#shes so silly without even trying | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tonycries · 2 months ago

Text

RAW-MANCE!

Synopsis. First time he can’t pull out = first time he’s losing his mind.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] 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, not pulling out, FÉRAL men, creampíes, heats (Choso), knots, squírting, running from it, he’s BIG, matíng presses, making it fit, true form Sukuna, dp, ínnapropríate use of jujutsu, cúmplay, overstím, jealousy (Nanami’s side), they get REALLY pússydrúnk, pull out game WEAK, pet names, swéaring.

A/N. AIpha Tony just started her shark week, F

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Tight fit!

“Toji, why are you so big- oh.”

Your tear-glazed eyes scrunch closed at the force of one of his roughened palms pressing down on your tummy. Jade eyes widening, gruff breath hitching- “C-can feel myself from the outside, doll.”

Voice breathy like even he couldn’t believe it.

He’s hypnotized. That bumpy bulge only makes him plug up more of your entrance with his red, weeping tip, he’s furiously pushing and pushing against that snug resistance from behind. “M’big, she’s tight.”

So feverishly hot, so stuffed- the only thing you can do is thrash your weakened legs against the dampening mattress, “I kn-know that- hck! But what if you’re too-”

“Too big?” Toji’s cutting you off with a roll of his dilated pupils, “Well duh- m’gonna make it fit, silly girl. The only problem will be…” Broad chest shuddering as one of his hands wrap ‘round his swollen hilt with a squelch! “-whether I’ll be able to pull out.”

And oh…he knew he was playing a dangerous game.

Because it was a joke- really, it was a joke to make your cute, split-slicked lips fall into his favorite lil’ ‘oh!’

But fuck- if the very second those thick, rasping words depart from his scarred lips, Toji’s chiseled body didn’t buck.

Without him planning it, without even realizing until a singular, sopping thrust rams his bulging inches into you thoroughly- the sudden warmth of your dewy insides making the hulking man gasp.

“Oh, fuck- oh, fuck.” Panting out a shocked breath, the edges of his raven lashes tickle his cheeks as he’s blinking them urgently. Trying to clear his vision, trying to clear his damn mind. “Yer sucking me up s-so much I can barely even move-”

Experimentally, he’s reeling backwards and watching as your maw sags further open. Your pretty gaze turning all cross-eyed and misty, “Oh please- ngh i-it feels so good, Toji.”

He didn’t even have to try.

Simply massaging your gummy walls with the winding curves of his veins, they’re so damn thick that you can feel him scraping just below your g-spot. Filling out every tiny crevice and nook inside of you with his meaty cock.

“Oh yeah? T-tight little thing ya are. Sooo fucking tight, mama.” Sinking the sharp points of his canines into his lower lip, Toji’s forced to cling into your hips with one hand in order to sensually ease himself in and out.

Prominent Adam’s apple bobbing greedily, “O-oooone…” He’s babbling out, teasingly letting the plump ridge of his cockhead snag against your quivering hole. “Two- three…” Whilst you whimper, he’s hiking up one of his muscular legs to angle himself deeper - counting each inch he rummages inside you. “Four- and what’s that?”

“F-five!”

In and out - even the tiniest movements left you seeing stars already. “Seven-” The rounded cap of his mushroomy tip scouring your cunt open like a searchlight, all it takes is the cutest lil’ smooch near your g-spot to make you clench.

“There–!” You’re keening, fingers digging into the softness of your pillows as you gyrate your hips back primally. “So close- ngh- so close there, Toji.”

“E-eight- oh.” It feels so good that he’s losing count. Stuttering and heaving.

Your head’s so heavy and fuzzy whilst being pounded that you can barely even lift it up. Whimpering, it’s just about all you can do to gently swerve your hips downwards until you’re hitting Toji’s tensed core with a spank of your ass.

Feeling so entirely full that your knees are buckling-

“No-” Just the slightest few centimeters forwards until Toji’s grip on your hips turns bruising, draaaagging you all the way back the distance you’d been driven forward. And more. “Nonono come back.”

Toji’s scratching the very globes of your ass cheeks with his dark happy trail, now damn near bottomed out and yet - it still wasn’t enough. He needed more more more- and he’s ready to plant one of his firm feet straight on top of your sweaty scalp to get you to hold still.

Seething, saliva-glossed lips pulling back into a snarl– “E-easy there, doll. Yer pussy’s so damn filthy s’driving me craaaazy.” And you could tell, his sloppy cadence was ramming into you even faster, probin’ the button of your g-spot with his slimy tip. “Just a little more a- a little more n’ let me pull out.”

The tight press of his balls aching when you only squeeze around his length tighter, he’s melting on top of you.

Grunting, “Doll-” Bulging his swabbing girth, and you’re tightening so firmly that your trembly legs push together. “-m’serious.” Before he seriously loses whatever’s left of his sanity, that is.

So big that he couldn’t pull out even if he wanted to, body refusing to - your bawling pussy too heavenly.

Tighter.

Tighter until his hoarse pleads stick clammily to your skin, “Let me pull out, mama–” The slightly broken crackle of his deep baritone was barely audible over the repeated squelch of his mazing cock. And oh- you’d made Toji’s voice break. “Let me pull out before I make a ngh- meeeess out of ya.”

Muffling something into the pillows-

He has to manually roam his foot off of your poor head, and you’re bolting up with a wettened pwah! of intaken breath. A puddle of saliva smearing down your lower face, “Want it inside, Tooooji.”

“I-inside?”

And before you know it, you’re being manhandled into a tough headlock by one of his swole arms, the muscles of Toji’s biceps dig into your neck, your throat, your pulse.

“Tell that to my hah- face-” Grouchy gusts of words strike your features, and you’re mewling as you feel his honed teeth gnaw on your sensitive ear lobe. This angle just perfect for him to smack sultry half-thrusts that make you dizzy.

Babbling, “Want- want it.” Keeping your body hostage even tighter.

Almost as if he was begging you to say otherwise, he’s giving you a taste of your own medicine and it makes your mouth flood with humid drool. Slobbering a slick sheen down the side of his vein-covered forearm, “Please, Toji…don’t pull out.”

“Don’t p-pull out.” Comes his echoing repetition, breathless. Shocked, gone at the very notion that he’s falling back on his knees ever-so-slightly - still unstopping with his cadence. In fact, going even harder. “I-if we make Megs a big brother then s’y-your fault- fuck!”

And Toji knew he was playing dangerously, he knew he could feel the feral twitch of his rock-hard length burying deeply against the door to your womb.

But what he didn’t know was that all it would take was that - the feeling of you getting even more lewdly wetter at the idea of him filling you up - for him to pump his hips in a vulgar stroke and cum. Heavy, hard.

More than he has in his entire life, Toji’s cumming and cumming so much that he’s almost dazed at how much webbed, white syrup sloshes into your readily awaiting pussy.

“Didn’t…pull out– oh, mama—” And it’s finally hitting him now, slithering down two of his knobbled fingers to toy open your saturated folds. Watching the mess triiiickle out, “Didn’t…pull out. S’really all inside.”

You’re whining, hazy pupils disappearing to the back of your head once he coats his fingerpads with a few sticky layers of cum n’ plugs it inside your mouth. Letting the salted caramel taste overtake your senses, “Don’t think you’re getting off easy now.”

And those words are abrupt - final.

“Wh-what?”

The questions rush to your larynx before he presses his fat, hefty cock further- “Gonna hafta let me feel her haaaa- alllll the time now-” Rutting, his sharp jaw droops pathetically open before he snaps it shut into a grin. “Gonna hafta let me fill her up. Hafta let me keep it-” Plop! He’s pushing a few dollops of dewy seed with his middle finger, “-inside now.”

Still painfully hard.

“Finish what you started, mama.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - Creampie cutiepie

“Haaaa– stay quiet, my love.” Nanami’s guttural plead scorches your ears, tugging back your restlessly squirming hips with a gentle pinch of your drenched panties.

Rubbin’ his thick fingers right down your dampened folds as he’s puuulling you further down the sleek office desk. Whispering urgently into your popped ears, “Don’t want them to hear- though, I wouldn’t mind…just don’t want them to ngh- hear the noises made by my favorite girls.”

And as if on cue, your needy pussy lets out a slurp of greedy wetness when Nanami drills his fattened cock into you sensually.

Making your back arch off the frigid table surface at the feeling of his puffy veins tapping your sweetest spots, “K-Ken—” Struggling to wind your boneless legs around his toned waist, “A-are you jealous?”

“Shush, darlin’. And focus on- hah- me. Your husband.”

Not a denial. Nothing but the way he was sagging your plush, puckered pussylips open with his wide girth. With a rude pull on your flimsy underwear as leverage, he’s practically spanking you with his chiseled pelvis.

Roughly, probin’ your cervix.

But you knew better - your gentle, sensible husband wasn’t the type to suddenly pull you into his office and pound you right into his desk. All without a condom.

Not until he’d seen that all-new intern ogling you a little too closely, that is-

“Stop thinking.” The cold band of Nanami’s wedding ring sizzles against your cheek as he’s cradling your cute cheeks and squeezing. Mean. “Wan’ you only thinking about- hah- me. About…”

Trailing off- but he didn’t even need to finish his sentence.

He’s pumping all his swollen, aching inches into you like a madman. The sheer raw force of it mussing up his blond hair, curtaining his half-lidded gaze that told you he wanted to devour you right here. Wouldn’t even mind him knowing-

“Kn-knowing?” You’re blinking up in shock at what’d just departed from your husband’s slurring mouth, your entrance saturating a fresh new wave of arousal at the mere notion.

“Oh, did I say that out loud, my love?” Was he serious? He couldn’t be- ah, but he was. So hazy with how it felt to finally be inside you raw, Nanami’s swabbing your drooling mouth open to suckle lightly on your tongue. Groaning, “Wouldn’t mind them allll knowing, actually-”

Now that he started, he couldn’t stop.

Tawny, tufted ends of his happy trail scratching your back. He’s bottomed-out and still pressing deeper, resting the chubby curve of his balls on your ass cheeks. Spanking- “Wouldn’t even mind them all seeing- because I’m one fucking this pretty pussy, my wife.”

Like he was proving it - to you, to himself, to your sloppy cunt.

Every rugged whack of Nanami’s curved length makes your mouth froth with saliva. He was just so damn hard that each pulse of his reddened, bruising crown made your walls stretch even further.

Again and again.

“Wouldn’t mind carrying you out like hck! this- my cum dripping down those pretty legs of yours…”

And then you’re clenching with your snug, velvety-feeling walls and he all but collapses on top of you. Shifting down with a grunt- Nanami’s sweat-slicked abs massaged your front, pearly whites sinking into your neck and marking. Holding himself back.

Choking out- guttural, as if it made him lose his very sanity to even ask, “You…like that, darling?

Nodding, “Y-yes.” Spearheading himself even deeper it felt like - or maybe he was just growing even bigger inside your cunt. Nanami’s hefty cock was so staggering that he’s bruising your sponged cervix with a round, circular stamp. “Please- oh, mmm Ken–”

“Say it- say it again.” Breaths striking out quicker, voice tilting until he sounded almost crazed. “Say you don’t want me to ngh- pull out.”

“I- I don’t want you to- fuck!”

Barely even able to speak with the way he’s fucking the words from your lungs, sounding as if he himself was barely keeping it together. “U-use your words, darling.” But how was that possible when Nanami’s rovering one of his hands to saddle your thighs on his broad shoulders. “Please- want to make sure you can take it all.”

Bending you in half like a lawn chair whilst your limbs dangle over his firm deltoids, he was ravenous.

Resting a capped knee up on the desk to give your sultry g-spot a loooong snog with his split-ended tip, you could feel the circlin’ of his sobbing orifice pushing inside.

“Because d-don’t get me wrong- love when I cum here–” Letting go of your face with a steaming hot handprint, Nanami brushes your hardened nipples with the band of his cold wedding ring. “And…here-” Lovingly, on your stomach. “And here.” Down, down, down to your clit. “But…”

“But?”

Leaning in even closer, you could practically taste his sweet, sweet desperation for you. Like he was dreaming, “But I’ve hah! always wanted to make your pretty body remember the taste of my c-cum. Mine.”

Stuttering - he was stuttering, begging to not pull out.

And how could you refuse?

“Ken—” You’re whining, eyes sliding backwards until they’re pure white- and Nanami Kento’s stern lips wobble oh-so-cutely once you’re tugging him in close with a hand around his gulping throat. “Don’t pull out.”

And he doesn’t- oh, he doesn’t.

“O-oh.”

Voice crackling. Those very words are more than enough to make the stoic man burn with a blush, the first time that he’s hearing those words - and he has no idea what to do other than bury his face between your jiggling tits and suck. Breathing, “I don’t…have to pull out.”

Hips thrusting so meanly between your legs that you’re fluttering important documents to the ground. Over and over and over—

Harder. Sloppier.

You’re realizing it before he does when he’s crashing the both of you into your highs with a slap of his cock into your slick g-spot. Skidding a line of precum straight down your walls and into your womb-

“O-oh, Kento- not gonna-” Head thrown back, toes curled, maw ajar with so many copious moans and lecherous noises. And yet you have nothing on the wet sounds pulled from your pussy, “Cum—ing–!”

“Yeah? Yeah? My pretty girl—” He’s murmuring breathlessly into your skin, cheek nuzzling where a neat little pool of drunken drool was starting to formulate. “I-I’m not gonna ngh! last either- oh.” Looking down, it’s only then that he’s catching the way your driveling cunt was already stuffed.

The way you’re struggling to hold in the thick, ribbony gushes of seed he’s spraying out. The way he didn’t even think - didn’t even register to pull out.

“Inside…it’s really- really…pinch me-” Endeared by his request, you’re just about to when- ah, when your husband catches sight of your matching wedding ring. Molten eyes widening, “We’re married?”

Then when you nod- Half-lidded eyes struggling to stay open, “Was already…gonna propose…”

Just that pussydrunk, he can’t even decide where he wanted to watch you more.

Your prettily fucked-out face, your glinting ring, or the way those gooey splotches of white were splashin’ around inside of you, slightly leaking outside as he moves to tug on your cute office skirt–

“How about we go outside and announce our baby shower in advance, my love?”

♡ GETO SUGURU - “Again?”

And Geto was being mean, Geto was being rude– spanking the quivering slope of your pussy whilst you clench and clench around his barreling, hot cock. Oh-so-lecherously pounding you through your nth high of the night-

“Awww, look- you’re cumming again.” He’s snickering from behind you, trapping you in a full nelson so tight that you could barely even squirm your hips back. Barely even breathe- “My gorgeous girl just can’t stop cumming, hmmm?”

You’re helplessly thrashing your legs, body aching for any kind of friction- before Geto’s inhuman reflexes work to curl underneath your thighs and pull.

The curving veins of his forearms digging into your mounds of flesh, he’s snickering as you start whining into the heady air. “Seriously- look at this hah- mess.” The low, sultry tone of his voice curdling against the crook of your neck, Geto rovers the doughy soft tips of his fingers over the dollops of cum staining your front and smears.

Drawing a few wet hearts on your tummy from all his own orgasm from rounds prior, “You look s-soooo fucking pretty like this. Almost makes me want to not pull out- oh-”

And Geto didn’t expect his ravaged cock to react like that.

The tenderly leaking orifice on top of his crownhead twitching, he feels his teeth sink into his plush lower lip with a hiss. Sensitive pink slit rubbing up against the top of your slippery cunt in a way that made him want to cum right then and there.

Inside.

“I- fuck!” Geto doesn’t even know what to say, long inky hair falling like a curtain around you two. Panting. Heaving. The muscles of his deltoids ripple as he perks himself up on his elbows to look downwards. Did he seriously almost cum from the thought? “Fuck- what have you done to me, gorgeous?”

“D-didn’t do- ngh! anything…” You’re babbling out stupidly, the gummy channel of your cunt milking his veined cock.

A slow trickle of drool drips down the side of your glossed lips, one that Geto smears away with a low ‘tch-’ Grunting gruffly, “Don’t even know what you fucking do t’me.”

Oh- oh.

He didn’t mean to say that out loud.

But right now he was so hypnotized on your drooling pussy, just so drunk on the way your walls tenderized so softly. Gulping him up with greedy squelches that leave your teeth on edge, he was driving his hips up until he was heart-eyed.

“Wh-what do you hngh! mean, Suguru–?” You’re humming, a smug smile plastering across your face as his words finally register.

“What are you smiling all cockily about?” He’s seething from behind, pointed chin spraying with a few glittering droplets of spittle. Geto furrows his dark brows and snarls, “J-just because I said I didn’t wanna pull out- that I didn’t wanna cum a-anywhere but inside- hck! that I wanna fuck this pretty pussy forever—”

And he was so big- but his swirlin’, bulbous tip was only throbbing bigger with each word spilling from his mouth. Nuzzling right against your cute lil’ g-spot to slip and slide in mindless half-ruts.

Warm tears of overstimulation well up in your eyes, “O-oh, right there- right there! Feels so good, Sugu-”

“Oh yeahhh- gonna squirt for me next?”

“Only if you don’t pull out.”

Oh, fuck.

Just those words were enough for Geto to pound all his rummaging inches between your swollen folds, spine arching powerfully off of the creaking mattress for a good few seconds as he buries himself and holds it there.

Words warbling with a slight chuckle, with a slight tinge of madness. “Y-you don’t really mean that-” He’s spitting, fighting to keep the dopey smile far, far away from his rosy lips. Jabbing his crowned mushroom tip, pressing. “-do you?”

And Geto didn’t even need to hear your response, he just needed to feel the way you were streaming out even more gushing waves of slick. Mewling, “N-not gonna last–”

“Nuh uh- not what I asked, gorgeous, need you to tell me-” He didn’t even know what he was babbling anymore, only that the way you were whining and the way you were grinding left his brain feeling overheated. “Want you to tell me- can I…really…inside?”

Voice hoarse, almost small like he didn’t even believe what he was asking.

And all Geto Suguru can do is roll one of his cum-topped digits to skid over your perked clit, swervin’ right on time with the pinpricks of his globed tip. Draaaagging his warm tongue over your throat, “Tell me-” He teases, reeling all the way out until his geysering orifice kissed your entrance, “-tell me.”

“Please-” You’re prattling away, and he’s hanging onto your every word as if he was still in disbelief. “-don’t pull out.”

And he doesn’t- he doesn’t, he doesn’t.

He’s sinking his fat, pounding cock even deeper and still bucking until he bottoms out. Even after.

Once. Twice. Thrice- treating your poor g-spot like a dartboard until you’re bursting straight into your orgasm. Cunt bawling with a sparkling squirt- it left your head all stupidly white-hot to throw your head back and cum.

“Fuck- f-fuuuck– Sugu–” Your breath catches, heart racing once you’re feeling a splattered puddle of something wet on your shoulder. “Cumming- o-oh my god-”

Sluggishly turning your head around to find that oh- Geto was tearing up, his sensitively stinging length rubbing your sappy walls raw. The red, sheeny curve of his cockhead flinches- and Geto feels fit to burst.

And he does - squirting, splurging out a few messy wads of translucent white.

There’s so much of it that you’re feeling a few wettened wads splash all over your cervix, Geto’s cock pushing your pussy so wiiidely agape that your walls struggle to take up all of him.

Panting- pushing his tensed abs into your back, higher and higher until the curve of his ballsack spanks your cunt. His sweatily flushed forehead falls onto your shoulder with a plop!

“Gorgeous…” Overstimulated, run raw. You were gulping out every droplet of cum he’s pumping out, and Geto thinks he must be in fucking heaven. Kiss-bitten lips wobbling, voice breathy - he was never going to be the same again. “M’never pulling out now.”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - HEAT

“This- this heat.” Choso’s spitting, the trembly curves of his fingertips latching underneath your thighs to hoist you into the sloppiest mating press possible. Bending you pliably into angles you didn’t even know were possible- you swear the cheeks of your ass weren’t touching the bed anymore. “It makes me so…”

Whimpering, you’re watching with unsteady breaths as Choso lazily falters his pummeling pace.

Letting his long, throbbing length slooow down, he’s making sure your hole can feel every carnal scratch of his zig-zagged veins, every pulse of his tip, every push.

Your sweet, half-curse boyfriend’s cock was so big that every reel backwards of his slender hips left your entrance flooding with syrupy slick. Pushed out of you once he’s filling up every nook and cranny-

Choso can’t help but swab his doughy fingerpads over that glittery gloss, lapping it into his mouth with a plop! “-thirsty, baby.”

“You’re so greedy, Cho.” You’re cooing out, wrapping your hands ‘round his neck and making him grunt. He was just too sexy whenever his cursed heat took over this time of year.

Fingers latching into his silken, brown hair, you’re using the lewd leverage to grind yourself down on his scouring cock. The dual spanks of skin-on-skin making Choso’s face droop into your neck and breeeeathe in that scent of you.

Slobbering with droplets of saliva, “N-ngh- I know, baby–” He’s whining, huffin’ and puffin’ in your saturated clouds of pheromones - he couldn’t get enough. “Can you p-please move your hips a little slower? S’gonna make me cum…”

“Awww, poor baby—”

“Don’t tease.” Nose crinkling, playfully caressing the splotchy area of your g-spot with a few more probing pushes, it’s like Choso was trying to make you just as drunken as he was.

But every thrust, every ram, every smooch into your deepest depths only made him more hypnotized. Push after push after push- he’s gnawing down on his cute pink cheeks to try and stop those wailing whimpers from leaving him.

Planting your feet flatly on the damp mattress, you can’t help but perk your hips and maze the bulging roundness of his mushroomed tip across your cervix. “Mmm– ngh, what’s that, baby?”

“No- n-nooooo, don’t do that- don’t look at me like that or m’gonna cum.” He’s squeezing his mahogany eyes shut, long lashes glinting with a polish of tears. Clamoring his v-line to glissade down your teary slit, “M’gonna cum m’gonna cum-”

And Choso’s just about to pull out his weeping shaft, he’s just about to let off the most pained grunt before he’s pouring out a steaming hot mess of seed all over your tummy- before–

“S’that sooo–?”

Without warning, without anything, you’re interlocking your ankles in a circle around his pretty waist. The flesh of your heels digging in deep against the dimples at the bottom of his spine, deeper.

“N-ngh- let me- pull out-” Choso whines, eyes frantic. Teeth snarling- his canines simply drip with mouth-watered saliva, “Pull out pull out– otherwise m’gonna make a mess of this pussy.”

You’re flinching once his thumb comes hovering back down on your sloppily lustrous pussylips, painting his digits in all the sap leaking from your entrance. Heaps of it.

Choso darts his half-lidded eyes away from your intense gaze and blushes such a bright, scorching red from the tips of his ears. “If I cover her in my cum I- hck! won’t be able to see her.” Another of his stray hands clawing onto your leg tight, his pace was hard.

Rough. More curse than man- every thrust of his powerful hips left you darting further up the mattress. And Choso with his urgent bucks followed- never letting you get away. “Can’t hold it in, baby—”

“Well what if I hngh- want it inside, Cho?”

His handsome jaw drops, he gapes- body moving before his mind as he shoves you down even deeper into this mating press, until your hamstrings were burning. Swollen lips moving up and down stupidly - soundless.

“Awww, do you want that too, baby?”

Yes- yes.

Stray strands of chestnut brown dangle to and fro once Choso can only nod fervently. Feverishly. And the only thing more out of control than him was his rummaging thrusts, leaving a firm thwack! on the door to your womb that just left you wanting more.

“She’s just so soooft n’ warm it makes me wanna make her- drool–” Drooling himself down the ends of his dopey grin, and it wasn’t just the heat talking. “Wanna make her a mama- s-so you better let me pull…unless…”

Swerving his hips into you even deeper, your ankles yank him until the ridges of his abs were bumping down your front.

“O-oh my god- ngh- baby–” He’s battering mindlessly, pre spilling out of him like a broken hose.

And you swear you see him slip out a few beaded tears at the raw tightness of your cunt. Jackhammering against the snug resistance of your hole-

Until you could feel his thighs shivering, until you were keening at the bulbous, utter fatness of Choso’s base.

“Y-you…” He croaks out, making you blink your heady eyes open in question.

Only to find Choso Kamo gaping down below.

“Baby…you just took my knot.”

Oh.

And it’s the last thing said before Choso lets his head fall back with a strangled jumble of your name. Over and over like a mantra while he cums–

“S-so this is what it feels like.” Looking genuinely dazed, eyes all glassy. “This- th-this? S’this even ngh! allowed? S’too good- m’filling you up. M’filling you up and it feels too good.”

“Fuck- fuck– m’so full, Cho.”

He’s shivering viscerally with your every squeeze, trying to claw down your legs. Nibbling on your throat, “You’re letting me cum- really? Really, really letting me cum just this once?” Watery eyes of his staring dead-on into yours, he’s letting his mouth drop into an oh! with every one of your nods. “R-really? But that means m’gonna cum inside you ngh- so fucking muuuch.”

“I-I know—” Body limp with the sheer pressure he was putting on you, scraping the ballooned-up curve of his crownhead down your mushy innards.

Your eyes roll back with a mewl just as soon as the splash of his ropey seed hits the bottom of your cervix, gluey wads of its sticking to your walls and making Choso shudder at the filthy second skin of it inside you.

“G-gonna pump you allll full-” Snarling, fighting against the way that the fat knot positioned on the base of his cock meant that he couldn’t properly fuck you into the bedsprings just the way he wanted to. Snagging on the tight hole of your cunt and gyrating to stir your goopy insides, “-fuck- fuck I can’t stand leaving this cute hole a-all lonely. Wanna fuck you properly soooo bad—”

You’re whimpering once one of Choso’s ringed fingers comes rovering down to squeeze his fattened hilt and swear.

Vision flashing white, blood manipulation seeping out, you can feel his barreling shaft harden-

He’s not even done with you before he’s preparing for more, “Knots o-only last haaaa– half an hour.” Before nudging your sultry folds apart to watch you drool. The hooded peripherals of his gaze locked onto where he’s pushing a knobbled thumb inside– “Until then…”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - You vs. Two

“Easy there- easy, brat.” Two of Sukuna’s big, beefy arms come curling around the small of your back, easily sprawling you out across his chiseled pecs with a simple tug. “Gonna fuck yourself stupid. Although-”

You’re whimpering, the only thing that you can manage to do right now while he’s manhandling you on top of his dual, throbbing cocks.

Clawing down a third of his palms on top of your sweat-matted crown to push you down his barreling lengths like some doll. It’s just so cute the way you’re shrilling yourself hoarse once he’s swirling your tight insides with both thick, globular tips.

Snickering, “-ya already are pretty fuckin’ dumb on my ngh– cocks, huh?”

Brows furrowing, you’re flapping your spit-glued lips a few times to slur out a coherent response. “F-fuck you–”

“Nooo, little human.” And the smile the King gives you is dangerous, both sets of his devilish lips quirking up into something sleazy. Sukuna slouches further backwards against the headboard and bounces his tattooed knees. Just once.

Just once to render you speechless on his plump lengths. So swollen that the tiniest rut leaves you arching your back and drooling– “I’m fucking you–”

“P-please-”

“Now now–” The pointed claws of his black fingernails scrape gently down your exposed throat, “Can ya feel me all the way up in that hah! pretty throat, huh?” Just probing your g-spot, once. Twice. Repeatedly. “Every vein? Every inch– heh, how about every drop?”

And you’re so far gone with just a few of his vulgar whacks to your sweetest, most tender spots.

Your heavy head is already starting to feel dizzy- so cockdrunk after every bullying ram that by this point Sukuna’s the one that’s moving you to meet his roughened tempo.

One clammy hand gripping either side of your restless hips, you ogle the sheer natural bulge of his biceps as he manhandles you. Draaaagging your dripping wet cunt all the way from the strawberry orifices of his tip n’ dooown to hug his twin bases.

Nestled cutely on the curve of his fattened balls, “I-I wan’ it, Kuna–”

“Want what?”

Lips wobbly once he knocks into your g-spot harder. He’s fucking you so thoroughly that you almost feel shy mumbling, “Want you to- mmm– not pull out.”

Oh.

His rude lips drop - both sets of them. Hips rutting, girths bulging to stretch your walls even further apart, the edges of his candyfloss hair beading with a lather of sweat. With only a few words you’d all but ruined him and fuck-

“What did you say?”

Sukuna wasn’t taking this lightly- no.

He’s promptly spanking the fourth n’ final of his hands across the lower half of your face, atoms in the air pressurizing with cursed energy when he manifests that infamous second mouth right across his palm to kiss you.

Sukuna watches you with a dazed glint in his crimson eyes as he thrusts. As he punishes your sopping wet pussy with his rummaging cocks, “Oooo- you need ta wash that mouth out, brat.” The slimy edge of his tongue slithers between your lips and makes you mewl- “What have I said about talking out of that ngh! pussy, hm?”

“But– mmpf–!”

“You better talk to me from this pair of lips, human.”

Knees weak with the sheerly raw points of stimulation everywhere, it takes you a few more gyratin’ bounces to gather your thoughts.

Maw ajar and stinging once he finally pulls his cursed mouth back with a claggy pwah! “B-but I want you to, Kuna.”

And shit- the minute those words register in his pussydrunken mind, the ancient lights of his chamber flicker. Some burst-

“F-fuck.” You’d made the King of Curses’ gruff baritone break, “Yer fucking serious about cumming…inside?”

“Yes- please.” You’re nodding, watching through your own hazy eyes as his mouth parts lewdly. “Not gonna l-last–!”

Sweltering breaths heaving, cocks fattening up until each nudging length was almost too much for your tight pussy to handle.

Lightning bolts of his veins bashing against your sides, he’s bumpin’ into his own pounding lengths and shivering. Two arms snaking up and down your arched spine, “Tch- d-don’t think m’this affected because of- of that. S’just so fucking tight I can barely even move.”

And it was true- he’s so big with both his twin, rock-hard cocks that Sukuna could only half-thrust into your gaping entrance at his point. The globular curves of his tips pushin’ into you so desperately that you could practically taste his neediness.

But you could see the way that the sharp edges of his ears painted a feverish red, tattooed inner-thighs glazing with so much of his syrupy, buttery precum.

Your jaw drops as you take in the sheer volume making you slip n’ slide into his battering rams, “Want it- want it, Kuna- ins-”

“Don’t.” Canines gnawing onto the plush edge of his bottom lip, one of his palms creeping up again to leave your babbling mouth slurping with kisses. He was ruined, bit by bit.

And he’s pumping his full, rounded crowns into your g-spot again. “Cum f’me instead, b-brat.” Making sure you won’t be remembering that little stutter with the way he was making your vision flash with pleasure. “Shut up and cum.”

When you did it was with Sukuna biting back a moan himself, guiding the mushy ends of his tips to swerve into your cervix once more. Your womb. Everywhere.

“Can’t pull out, huh?” He repeats to himself, almost breathless with a snicker. “Take it then- take it-”

It was bucketloads, absolute torrents of milky white that were flooding your tight channel. Sukuna wasn’t just covering your velvety cunt with all his seed, he was drenching you in it until it overspilled. Loaded up wads webbing down each of his lengths, soaking his pinkish happy trail completely.

So much of it that you can feel splosh around in your throat, that thickly cloying texture tasted on your tongue. “Th-there’s so much, Kuna–”

“Awww, c’mon girl. You can take- every- drop-” Punctuated with a rugged thrust that sent your spongy cervix bruising, the slightly-circular motions of his toned pelvis makes warm sap smear across spots you didn’t even know existed. “Fuck! Look at you- movin’ those ngh- hips like you’re swallowing it all up. Been greedy for it?”

Reaching your limp hands up to cradle his neck and hold on for dear life, Sukuna flinches at the splat! of cum that slips out of you and hits his v-line. “Can feel you mmm- filling me all inside, Kuna–”

“Oh…now that’s fun.”

Rapidly- urgently manifesting his second mouth to slash across his abs, “Looks so much better droolin’ from your cunt like this- n’not anywhere else, brat.” Monstrously tonguing the glutinous puddle formulating underneath you n’ your slick, “Look at it mixin’ all together-”

You’re sobbing out every time he slides the flattened edge of his tongue between your legs. Teasingly sliiiiding back and forth, “Tch- wish I had a third mouth.”

“For what?” As if you already didn’t know.

He was just hypnotized by what he saw below, only grinning- squeeeelch! goes the motion of his softened tastebuds slipping inside your hole. Fuck. “Itadakimasu”

♡ INO TAKUMA - Till it breaks?!

“Oh.” Comes out Ino’s dampened gasp, the soft puff of air scalding where his toned arms held you into a cute full nelson.

And your spine arches back into the way his washboard abs tense, into the way his broad chest heaves your boneless body up n’ down. Right in the very same angle that he first felt that heavenly taste of your slick, raw pussy walls. “O-oh.”

Startling your burning skin with a wet splatter! of drool from his ruby red lips, “I think the hah! condom broke, pretty.” Motioning to drag his sloppy length back, Ino bites back a sensitive hiss at the saccharine squeeeelch. “Lemme just-”

And then he does it again- that same little, addicted brush of the splotch where that flimsy rubber was torn. Right on top of where your sweet boyfriend’s flared mushroom tip was so big that he’d shattered the condom open, driving up a tentative dig into the bottom of your pussy.

You’re feeling your mouth drop into a softly panted oh! “T-Taku–?”

“Yes- yes!” Snapping right back into reality, Ino’s pressing the doughy fringes of his fingertips into your thighs to manhandle your hips. Almost as if he couldn’t bring himself to move.

“I should just-” Massaging and massaging the hot, reddened curve of his cockhead past your walls- it really doesn’t help that your sweet, sweet insides just kept on sucking him back up each time he’s carnally scraping his length down. Trying to pull out. “I reeeeeally should…”

Ah, he was so cute with his rosy lips wobbling in concentration. Chestnut brows furrowed whilst he tried to will himself to try and reel back from your dripping wet pussy.

You find yourself tittering, craning your neck to plant an innocent peck near the corner of his mouth. “You can just not pull out, baby-”

“B-but if I don’t pull out how will I- oh.”

You’re ogling at the exact moment it hits him.

When Ino’s molten eyes widen, his tawny lashes fluttering ever-so-slightly, the prettiest pink flush scorching all over the apples of his cheeks. And his cock- oh, his cock practically ravages your gooey innards with a throbbing jolt.

Mouth gaping open silently a few times before he’s finally, finally finding his voice. “Can I? I shouldn’t- I really sh-shouldn’t, sweetness-” And your heart almost pangs in disappointment when he’s pulling out of your dewy entrance with the loudest sluuuurp-

-only to toss away the useless remnants of that rubber and slam back in.

“B-but you just feel sh-shoooo good—!”

“Hck- oh!” Whines clog up in your throat once Ino’s pinning you to him with a strong forearm, the slippery glide of his length making sure you feel every patterned vein imprinted into your walls.

Ino swirls his cockhead in an experiment heart all over your cervix and gasps at the utter wetness that greets him. “H-how m’I even supposed to compete?” Comes out his pained whine, followed almost immediately by the thwack! of his rounded balls striking your treacly cunt.

Making him snap his head down- loud. Fuck- you were so much louder when he didn’t have a condom on. Squelch after squelch resounding like music in his ears every time he slams upwards. Scolding, “D-don’t talk back to me.”

“Taku, baby, are you okay–”

“That goes for ngh! you, too, pretty- do I look okay?” Hooded lids widened, his usual baritone was botched with cracks. Octaves higher. “R-raw? Seriously? S’fuckin’ unfair- who said you can feel this good- soooo fuh-fucking good.”

And you’ve never seen your gentle boyfriend like this before.

Never seen him so mindlessly rutting with his cadence, never seen him so feral every time he’s pummeling his hips into the mounds of your ass.

Bruising his thighs against yours, his ballsack against your entrance. Ino was balls-deep and still trying to rover his bawling orifice further across your plush cunt.

So harshly that you’re bowing your back and clamoring behind you to hold onto the headboard-

“Don’t run from me when you’ve been ngh! holding out-” Ino spits in a seething tone from behind, free palm gripping your wrists like adhesive. He tugs them down and hold you right at his complete n’ utter mercy, unmoving. “You’ve been holding out- th-this? Felt like this n’ you’ve been holding out, sweetness?”

“Fuck–!” Your spine aches with the white-hot ruts he’s bucking into you, the pointed globe of his shaft stirring your insides in a way that made you jostle with each swerve, too. “Mmm– right there, baby.”

And once he’s finding your g-spot he’s never leaving it alone.

Spraying out a thick battering of warm pre all over that particular bundle of nerves before he jerks his hips and bruises it. Making you throw your head back and clench–

“D-don’t!” Ino gasps, watery eyes drooping with the sheer heat inside your soppy pussy. He felt like he was just melting into you, abs almost melding into your back with each skim. “Makes me go crazy- m-makes me wanna haaaah- cum…inside.”

The very moment he admits this, you coo. Partially shifting your body around to take in his scorching blush, the way that Ino tries to hide away behind his unruly bangs.

You curl your fingers around one soft lock and pull- making him whine. “When I say don’t ngh- pull out- I mean don’t pull out, Taku–”

And that was it- that did it.

In all of two flutters of your lashes, Ino’s snapping.

All those long, hard years of training letting him trek his powerful forearms underneath your thighs and haul you all the way in half. The caps of your knees hitting your tits, his cock hitting the bottom of your pussy.

“Then…get ready.”

Crazed, babbling. It’s all the warning you’re getting before Ino froths out generous helpings of creamy white cum. The thickened dollops settling near your womb and sprinkling to and fro once he’s pumping it even deeper.

You’re whimpering, body jolting at the low hum of reverse cursed energy that seeps from Ino’s fingerpads. Without him even realizing.

“Taku– o-oh my god you’re ngh- cumming so much.”

More than usual - so much more than usual.

Ino’s wild tempo meant that your poor entrance was gaping with all the leaky knots of his seed, milking and milking every single ounce out of himself.

“Oh my god- you squeeze me even tighter when I cum inside, pretty- s-so I just have to…” Until his balls ached with nothing. The strawberry divot homed at the end of his length sputtering out once- twice- before Ino had wrung himself to cum dry. “Shit- don’t know if I can c-cum anymore. But I want to- I need to.”

“Nghhh– fuck!”

Every slurp! that echoed from your overspilling pussy whenever his cum leaked was speaking to him. And Ino was nodding– oh, what a monster you’ve created.

Lightly groaning as he finally pulls out with a filthy drag, it takes him all of two seconds to flip your buzzing body over and give you a pussydrunken grin. Raw n’ ravaged. “R-ride me dry, pretty?”

♡ GOJO SATORU - “J-just the tip.”

It’s about the fifth time Gojo’s breathily repeating that mantra - maybe even the fiftieth since he’d promised he could handle fucking you without a condom— with just the tip.

And your boyfriend’s deepened voice cracks numerous octaves higher every time he’s pinpointing your insides with the red, bulging tip of his cock. That rounded crown swirlin’ a sultry smooch right into the spots that make you cutely keen–

“T-Toru! Ngh- oh my god, you’re in so-”

“-deeeep, yeah?” He’s snickering from behind, clouded pants leaving the back of your neck humid. And your overworked bedsprings creak! once he’s sidling his shivering thighs from behind, jostling you up with each meaty limb. “S’alright, my girl. You can take it- you will. S’just the…”

And he can’t even hold his train of thought- can’t do anything but let the tender grooves of his veins tickle your pussy. Rubbing sweetly up n’ down across your walls, deeper. Harder.

“-tip.”

Teary eyes damn near bulging out of your head, “F-fuuuuck!”

So hard that you’re being driven further up the bed by his sharp hipbones - but he doesn’t let you move a millimeter. Immediately curling the right set of his long, pale fingers around your throat and draaaagging you backwards.

“J-just the tip.” Gojo’s gurgling - babbling. Syllables coming out just as unsteadily as he’s mindlessly rutting with his swollen, veiny cock. You’re so cute taking everything he gives that he can’t help but chuckle. “See? See?” Eyes wide, tone hoarse. “You’re gonna- hah! take it like my good girl. Take my fat fuckin’ tip until I pull out, m’kay?”

Splat! Splat! Splat! You’re so dazed that the only thing reeling you out of your cockdrunken little reverie is the spray of treacly saliva that leaks from between his clenched teeth.

He’s slobbering.

Your lips flap stupidly, sparkly beads of spittle decorating your own chin as you’re whirling your head over your shoulder. “H-huh? Oh.”

Oh, Gojo Satoru doesn’t look like he heard you.

He didn’t even look like he was breathing.

Half-lidded eyes oh-so-murky that it’s a goddamn miracle they’re even shifting downwards to stare at your puffy, puckered folds. Huffing out a little ‘oh’, Gojo’s slouching his toned bodyweight on top of yours n’ cradling you into a filthy, filthy French kiss as he pounds you silly.

“Just the tip-” And it’s a good thing he’s smearing his syrupy mouth over yours - because one particularly harsh ram leaves you screaming. Drinking in each of your pretty noises into his breathy mouth. “Shhh sh sh, s’alright s’alright. Don’t run.” You didn’t even realize that you were fisting the silky coverings of your pillowcase and attempting to crawl away until he clings tighter ‘round your throat, hauling you back down. “S’just the tip- just the- ngh-”

And usually - usually - you would’ve given him a piece of your mind.

Because it wasn’t just the tip. Gojo was so big - so long, and you could feel almost every inch of his hot, throbbing girth. Pushing open your plush walls until he’s filling up every nook and cranny; way, way past the flared ridge of his cockhead to stretch and stretch and stretch you out on his shaft.

Hell, you could almost feel the plump curve of his ballsack lazily nudging your puffy pussylips.

“Toru–!” Your lungs heave with the effort to raise your voice above a mewl, “This is more than the tip- hngh.”

“Wh-what do you…” Fat dollops of sweat beading down his temple, it takes him everything - every last shred of his sanity to finally look. To finally get his fuzzily sparking brain to realize- “…oh”

And you don’t know what you expected, but it certainly wasn’t for Gojo to plant yet another experimental whack to the bottom of your cervix. Letting your hips jitter underneath his palms, he’s groping a handful of your ass.

“Then…” You can only watch once he breaks away to tilt his head cutely, cherry-pink maw sagging as if he was hypnotized. “-halfway, sweetheart?”

Swervin’ straight into your g-spot with three spanks each second, he’s tunneling you open with such lecherous sluuurps. “Mhm, hngh- oh, halfway and-” Hissing, Gojo’s long, angelic lashes flutter once he’s feeling his aching balls squeeze. Close. “-and then I’ll pull out, okay?”

“But you’re shoooo—” It was music to his ears watching you stumble over your syllables with your adorable voice, and it only made him go harder.

“S-s-sooo mean, huh?” Mocking you, “But I hafta- can let myself go o-only halfway or I…won’t be able to pull out.” If he was in any better state of mind, he’d rather have died than confess to anything so pathetically drunk on your pussy. Laughing- “Just imagine, if I didn’t pull out…h-heh, imagine.”

Oh, that was a dangerous line of thought.

He’s never done that before. Anything more of that and he’s going to drive himself crazy already, feeling goosebumps raise on the back of his flushed neck as your cute, sappy insides clench.

Milking his prolonged length all the way from his fattened tip to the plump, split-ended circle of his tip. Still murmuring, “How cute- Imagine if I didn’t- pull- out-”

Deeper- he doesn’t even register it. Again and again until both you and the bed frame sing. Harder- he’s still thinking about what he said.

You’re almost sobbing once those tufts of ivory white at the base of his cock massage your skin raw, bullying you into the mattress with just his prominent v-line. You moan, “I-it’s more than- hck! halfway in, Satoru–!”

“Oh.” Gojo heaves, Gojo snickers. “F-fine. You win.”

And you didn’t even have the time to wonder what he meant by that before he tenses his abs and punishes your hole with a rugged slam. Animalistic.

“Y-you win- you win you win you- ngh- win-” He’s spitting through gritted teeth, so harshly that the strongest tastes pure metal on his sizzling tongue. “You win n’ this is what’cha gonna get.” Filling up with saccharine trickles of saliva, he scrunches his chin and now fully - mercilessly - gives you a solid few thrusts.

Gripping on tight to your left ass cheek with one hand, every hold he has on you is pulling you back after every recoil. A bubble of high-pitched laughter departs from his lips as soon as he watches himself siiink all the way in. Over. And over. And over again.

Groaning, “Can’t take it anymore- can’t- fuck!” He can’t even bear the thought of pulling out anymore-

“C-can’t pull out?” You’re whispering, eyes widening as soon as Gojo gasps, hit with the realization that he was rambling his thoughts out loud without even realizing. Just that pussydrunk.

“N-no.” Comes out the confessional response, brows furrowing as he’s reaching below to give your neglected clit a sweet, buzzing pinch. “You win, just don’t make me ngh…pull out. Please, sweetheart?”

You made the powerful, cocky strongest beg.

And as he says this he can feel himself cumming - can feel his cursed energy flare out of control. Bolts of tiny blue lightning straying from the edges of his peripherals, oh-so-thoroughly locked down on you and your sloppily thrusting cadence.

No- he was muuuch more focused on the way that he could see with his Six Eyes. Murked walls of your sopping pussy covering with layers of syrupy white cum as he counts underneath his breath, ‘one…two…’

Digging the clean-cut crescents of his nails into the side of your pulsating neck, harder. Sloppier. ‘…three.’

Exactly in time to watch you fall apart as your orgasm hits you like a damn freight train.

“Fuck- fuh-fuuuuck! Toru m’cumming m’cumming.” So pretty letting your thighs twitch with the white-hot pleasure, your toes curl in pleasure as you position your hips to let his steaming crownhead plunge.

Bottomed-out and still aching to go deeper.

Barrelling in a rummaging tempo so sinful that thick droplets of sap ooze out of you, sticky n’ pure white. It makes Gojo’s breath hitch to watch the slicked mess pouring from your stuffed hole, glazed shaft so blissfully reeling back- only to not pull out. “I…inside.”

“Y-yeah ngh-” You’re humming with delight at the cobwebs of cum his girth mixes like frosting, so warm and heavy inside of you. “A-all inside, Satoru.”

So far delayed - his melty brain stalls just a few more pumping shudders before he can even think of opening his mouth again. “Did you take the pill, sweetheart?”

“…no.”

And Gojo Satoru can only smile and oh- oh, the look in his eyes made you jolt right to your very core. You weren’t getting off easy. Or walking. “Good.”

A/N. Hope you have a lovely week!

Plagiarism not authorized.

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sakurarisen · 11 months ago

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mind: does my muse have any mental conditions that affect their lives? what are they? how do they handle them? what coping methods do they use most?

All About A Sera's Health~!

mind: does my muse have any mental conditions that affect their lives? what are they? how do they handle them? what coping methods do they use most?

Apologies for long ahead of time because wow this unintentionally is long XD

Sera does - She has anxiety, both general and a little social, some issues with depression, and PTSD, none of which are particularly diagnosed in most verses because Sera very much dislikes seeing doctors of any kind, but it's been brought up to her in most and she actually agrees with it, even if she won't say as much to most people. Even when she isn't aware there's names for it, she's more than aware she has something going on - But even in this case, she's prone to just calling it "her nightmare" and "the nightmare's voice", largely because she has nothing else to actually call it by. It keeps her constantly looking over her shoulder, afraid of thunderstorms, unable to handle large crowds of people on her own or tight things around her wrists, being alone with someone clearly scheming or giving her strange looks. and doesn't do well with people who've made their intention to hurt others clear, among other triggers.

As for dealing with it... That depends on what point in her life you're asking her. While she's usually good at hiding it and only breaking down in private, or excusing herself to deal with it alone, she's still dealing with it alone until she finds herself a home and settles down with Zack, and 'dealing with it alone' doesn't usually go well. She's prone to breaking down when she's alone, curling into a little ball and sobbing... For a long time, Sera would've - and did at one point to Zack - described herself as a 'broken porcelain doll stuck in a glass box', eventually progressing that to 'a broken doll played with and thrown aside out of the owner's boredom'. She may have seemed to have it under control, but in truth, her 'nightmare' controlled a lot of what she did and how she acted, and she just didn't have the words - or ability - to explain it.

As she grows into her 20's, however, and finally allows herself to develop a tight support network, she learns better ways to explain herself and her mental state and problems, and discovers better coping skills, as well as ways to combat 'the nightmare' that is her PTSD, fears, and anxiety. Grabbing or touching something physical - grabbing onto the hem of her shirt or the sides of her skit/pants, holding Zack's hand, touching his shoulder or arm, leaning against a tree and pressing her palms flat against it, etc - is a big way to keep her grounded and remembering what's real life and what's just her mind trying to run away with itself, the feeling of something solid and physical a wonderful way to help in re-focusing herself.

She's learned breathing exercises, and has anti-anxiety measures frequently nearby that change depending on verse, like squishy keychain toys, fidget toys, and in all verses, her stuffed husky, Zax. Zack and their closest friends who know of her traumas - a number of people she can count on one hand - are on speed dial on her phone, and reachable with the press of a button, or at least easily reachable in verses where phones don't exist (Genshin), ready to pose a 'rescue' and give her a safe place to break down if she can't avoid it, or help her fight off the 'nightmare', be it with distractions or helping to talk her through it.

To that, she's also learned how to talk through it, and while she doesn't have the 'proper words', persay, even now to explain how she feels or what's going on with her, she's taken to Zack's nickname for her of 'Kitten' and embraced the idea of 'I am a kitty' much like a child, and uses that to help explain herself when everything else fails. Sera is very much capable of being a mature adult and regularly is, only being childish around close friends and family who're okay with her being silly and embracing the childhood she never had, but even then, 'bad kitty' when she feels like she's screwed up something and can't figure out what or how is pretty self-explanatory, and so is 'Kitty doesn't feel good-'; if she's referring to herself as 'kitty', it's fairly known she's having trouble dealing with something really upsetting her she doesn't otherwise have the words to explain any better.

She doesn't have her mental state fully under control just yet - There's still a lot Sera doesn't know how to handle or how to word, and she's someone who will try to deal with things alone to avoid being a burden on others, but she's certainly come a long way and is still learning, each and every day.

#Questioning A Flower [Asks]#Colors Of Sakura [Sera Headcanons]#Long Post-#Warofthebeasts #And if my net would stop trying to kill itself today plzthx-#Sera deals with a LOT? Some of it is due to her past as Aria but for the most part #This is recent trauma from this/recent lifetimes #And she doesn't know how to properly explain it or what she can and can't say? She doesn't want to be 'pitied' either #She's surviving and that's what matters - Even though 'surviving' until Zack is really just powering through somehow #There's bigger issues in the world than what she went through? And she doesn't mind suffering if it means others don't #But now she's trying to learn how to cope and what's up with her and while she doesn't have 'proper' words #She's at least learned a way to communicate 'hey I'm not doing good and I need help' and learned how to talk about it a little #She doesn't need to do this alone anymore TwT <3 #She's a complex little flowercatbirb-#Also the usual reminder Sera is very much an adult woman and regularly acts it without issue - She doesn't think she's ACTUALLY a cat #But it's something of her 'last line of defense' so to speak and comforting? Cats have claws and can fight back! So can she if she's kitty!#But it's also the reminder of 'Zack calls me this' and that's something she can cling to even when she thinks the world is against her #She can be childish because she's been reassured it's okay to claim the childhood she never had and wants to experience #Sure she'll 'miao~!' at someone but it's playful and silly? And dropped in a heartbeat to be a mature woman if needed #She's still sorting herself out now that she's actually free to <3

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navybrat817 · 1 month ago

Text

Sharp Dressed Man

Pairing: Thunderbolts!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky looks good in a suit, and it isn't fair how easily he turns you on.

Word Count: Over 2k

Warnings: Unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), referenced oral sex (f. receiving), feels, sweet and spicy fic, established relationship, vulnerability, being in love, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: More Tower Shenanigans based on an anon ask. ❤️ Thank you to the lovely @buckybarnesfic, @soelstress, @mrsbuckybarnes1917 for looking it over and assuring me it wasn't garbage. Written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @saradika-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky was still getting ready for the day while you made him breakfast. It was the most important meal of the day, and neither of you would let the other skip it. Thankfully the rest of the team had already eaten and were elsewhere, otherwise everyone would try to steal something; except for Bob because he wouldn't take food without asking. Not to mention the last time John tried to steal one of Yelena’s meals he almost lost a finger.

The scent of freshly brewed coffee cut through the last traces of sleep, warming you up as you loaded the plates with various foods and set them on the island. You rinsed the dishes and cleaned the counters while you waited for Bucky, doing a silly little dance in-between tasks. It wasn't your day to tidy up the kitchen, but you weren't going to be a jerk and leave it a mess.

“Someone’s happy this morning,” Ava said from behind you, and you somehow didn't jump at the sound. You were all getting used to her phasing in and out of the rooms. “Let me guess. Morning sex?”

Was it obvious since you were only in your robe and underwear? “Maybe,” you teased.

The wonderful ache between your legs was a nice reminder of how Bucky woke you earlier, making you shiver. You felt his fingers and tongue working you over before you opened your eyes, and you barely recovered from your first orgasm before he had his cock in you. It wasn't rushed either. He took his time, making you feel every delicious inch as he thrust slow and deep. Even when you came again he didn't stop.

“‘Attagirl,” he smiled against your lips while you trembled beneath him, his body effectively caging you in. “But you can give me one more. I know you can.”

“Bucky,” you whined, wanting nothing more than for him to fill you to the brim.

“Just one more, sweetheart.” A hand moved between your bodies so he could play you like a well tuned instrument. “One more and I’ll give it to you.”

You did, and so did he, your name tumbling from his lips as he spilled into you. Who wouldn't give Bucky another orgasm if he gently demanded it? Three orgasms wasn't a bad way to start the day. A girl could do much worse.

“Lucky,” she smirked, snapping you out of your thoughts when she snatched a bite of food from Bucky’s plate. “Mmm. Remind me to have you make me breakfast the next time you have morning sex.”

“Hey!” you yelled, but there was laughter in your eyes when she took another bite and phased away. “You’ll pay for that!”

“Who will pay for what?” Bucky asked when he walked into the room, making your breath catch in your throat.

Bucky's hair was tucked behind his ears today, bringing your attention to his steel eyes before you took in the rest of him. His suit was tailored impeccably to his large frame, and he wore it well. He carried himself with composed ease, his steps deliberate and head held high. His presence demanded attention without appearing arrogant, which was tough to balance. He was all man.

He was your man.

“Fuck me,” you breathed.

Bucky may not be a Congressman anymore, but he would have had your vote for anything and everything he ever wanted.

His eyes flashed with unmistakable lust and pride as he walked toward you, making your stomach flip. “Already did.”

“You did, and you can do that again later,” you said, reaching up to trace his mouth.

You smiled when he kissed your fingers. It was an honor to touch him and that wasn't at all an exaggeration. You noticed how tense he got when some got too close to him, but not you. Never you.

“So, I look handsome?” he asked casually, adjusting his tie. “Not that I’m trying to look handsome. I’m only wearing this since I have a meeting, and I might get a few dirty looks if I show up in tactical gear.”

You almost teased that he was fishing for a compliment, but you saw just a flicker of his confidence waver as he waited for your answer. “Suit or tactical gear, you’re the most handsome man I've ever seen.”

He breathed out, his confidence back in full force. “I’m glad to hear that.” Sliding a hand over the curve of your hip, his fingers dug in, a protective and possessive touch, when he brought his mouth to your ear. “And I may have to wear suits around you more often since it turns you on so much.”

You tried to play coy, as if your nipples hadn’t peaked and your clit didn't throb. “Who said I'm turned on?”

Bucky chuckled and lowered his head, his teeth nipping your neck and drawing a whimper from you. His lips moved up to find your ear again while you tried to keep your breathing steady. “Don't have to say it, sweetheart. I can smell you,” he whispered. You couldn't hide anything with those heightened senses of his, a blessing or a curse depending on how you looked at it. “Ruined your panties the second I walked in here.”

Your eyes closed. He was right, the smug bastard. Damn him. Damn him to Hell. No, not there. That was too cruel. Your bed would do nicely.

It was insane the more you thought about it. The man could breathe and it would send your libido into overdrive. Feminism? Where did it go? One murder strut or grumpy stare and it went out the window along with your panties. One smile and it melted your insides.

What had he done to you?

“You're unbelievable,” you sighed.

He pulled back, searching your face. “What do you mean?”

“I was a strong and capable woman before I came here,” you said, the words sounding ridiculous as soon as they left your mouth.

“And you still are,” he assured you. Bucky was one of your biggest supporters, always.

“It’s just… Do you have any idea what that’s like? To just look at someone and get turned on?” You stepped out of reach and gestured to him. You asked yourself some days how Bucky Barnes could possibly be real. How did someone like him exist? “You breathe and I get aroused. That isn't normal.”

No other man had that kind of power over you, body or heart, until him.

The warm chuckle from your boyfriend had you fighting not to smile. “One, we’re not normal. Two, your breathing turns me on, too. And three, I do know it’s like to just look at someone and get aroused because that happens when I look at you,” he said, taking your hand to bring you back to him. He placed it against his crotch and grew harder under your touch. “We’re a match made in heaven, Hell, whatever you want to call it.”

Blood rushed to your cheeks. You two were a good match. “It isn't just arousal when I look at you. It’s…” You took a breath and gripped his jacket with your other hand, trying to be careful not to wrinkle it. “You smile at me and…”

“And what?” he asked, catching your eye and softly smiling.

You swallowed, your eyes suddenly misting over before you dropped your hands. It was alarming how quickly your emotions took over in regard to Bucky. “I see a future with you there.”

Bucky cupped your cheeks when you tried to duck your head. He had stripped you bare more than once, but saying something like that made you feel more vulnerable than when you were naked. “Oh, sweetheart.”

“You have the power to break me,” you whispered, your eyes shutting. Not to hide, but to keep the tears at bay. “Which should be terrifying, but it’s very exhilarating.”

To give that much of yourself to another, to trust them to that extent, wasn't easy. But if life taught you anything, it was that it was too short and you had to seize every opportunity to live it to the fullest. Who better to do that with than Bucky Barnes?

You cleared your throat when he didn't say anything, his eyes a storm of emotions when you opened yours. “Your breakfast is getting cold. You should-”

He surged forward, his lips covering yours. The pad of his thumbs brushed your cheeks when he deepened the kiss, coaxing you to open your mouth to his. Emotions surged through you, your heart nearly overflowing as you held onto each other. You felt everything all at once and let yourself be swept away.

He slowly broke the kiss allowing you both to savor the lingering touch of each other's lips and take a much needed breath. “You could break me, too, but you won't,” he said, his forehead resting against yours as you attempted to calm your racing heart. “Just like I'd never break you.”

It was a vow that resonated in your core, a declaration of love, one that had you kissing him again and silently promising the same. “Match made in heaven or Hell, huh?”

“And where you go, I’ll follow,” he smiled.

You'd follow him, too. “Well, right now you need to eat breakfast and head out so you aren't late for your meeting.”

He groaned and refrained from rolling his eyes. “This suit is coming off as soon as I get back,” he said, much to your disappointment. Or maybe your delight.

“Right when you get back?” You bit your lip. “Will you use the tie on me?”

“I can,” he smirked, making your body heat up all over again. “Can have a little fun in the office, too. Pretend I’m your boss and-”

“Or I could be your boss since I'm strong and capable,” you teased.

He moaned, seemingly into that idea as he backed you against the island. “Boss or not, I’ll still bend you over the desk or have you sit on it while I eat your pretty pussy.”

You whined. There was no stopping Bucky when he was hungry. He’d spread your legs and stay between them until you cried, lap up every drop and still want more.

His hands roamed your body, forgetting all about breakfast. “Fuck you raw and fill you up just the way you-”

Bob cleared his throat, both of you turning toward the sound. How long had the poor guy been standing there? “Just getting a drink,” he said, quickly going to the fridge and avoiding looking at you. “I’m not even here.”

“Sorry, Bob,” you smiled sheepishly when he grabbed his drink and bolted. “We should probably rent a hotel room or something soon and give the team a break.”

You and Bucky could be extremely private some days and others there was no stopping you. How the team put up with it you had no idea. Maybe because you made each other happy. It still had to be slightly obnoxious for them.

Bucky scratched the back of his neck, a sheepish smile on his handsome face, too. “Or we could always do a campout on the roof so we aren't too far away,” he suggested.

You smiled as you imagined it. Looking out over the city and watching the stars before cuddling up in a tent. A cabin getaway was also something to keep in mind for the future when you two could take a break together. Peaceful, quiet. Something just for the two of you.

“A roof campout sounds nice,” you said.

“Good,” Bucky smirked before he picked you up and set you on the island. “Campout later. Right now I want breakfast.”

“Bucky, your meeting.”

“I won't be late.”

You didn't resist when he opened your legs. “Ava said no more fooling around in the kitchen since we eat here,” you reminded him. Alexei would probably encourage it. “And I just cleaned up, and you haven't eaten the food I made.”

“I’ll clean up the mess,” he winked as he crouched down. “And I’ll eat after I eat.”

And he did.

We deserve this. Bucky deserves this. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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oowouwuowoo · 1 year ago

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like Maybe if her comments weren't repeating EXACTLY WHAT YOU CAME HERE FOR IN THE FIRST PLACE THAT SHE HERSELF DIRECTED YOU TO she would be f i n e . . .

teehee afternote from the tags below lmao

i maxxed out the tags by accident but it ended up being the last one i wanted to put in there anyways... but then i got sad i couldnt add more so that would've been another tag to add but then it wouldn't have been necessary? love that

i do like the posting ui. u can save drafts and it actually keeps ur tags, add the post to the post queue, also can set to post at a specific time/date very cool! there's good colors to choose from too! u can super easily add pictures gifs links audioclips make polls and you can make a break in the page for optional more content for the readers. that could negate the tag thing but we all know there's the shows and book and movies etc. that have a million characters and 30 wouldn't be enough for all the characters LMAOOO

ANYWHOOOOO time to learn how to fix this and get hired at tumblr to sort out the tag situation

also also first post that isn't a repost i think? omg mom look im doing it am i doing it right?

#loz skyward sword #skyward sword link #skyward sword fi #please nintendo why #teehee extra rant xPP #its not fine actually #she Also repeats exactly what you just learned Two Seconds Ago #she actually for real does that and its so aggravating #she makes this game so hard to play #its not a Difficult game its just So Hard to go through it and not want to chuck the wii remote at her face when she says stupid shit #AUGHHHHHH #im still forever obsessed with skyward sword its just so silly and goofy pilled #shout to my boy groose #the silliest and goofiest of guys #be like groose learn from your mistakes and change your ways #but seriously why is fi here #starting a gofundme to remaster the game Without fi or like idk maybe give her helpful dialogue or witty jokes like midna????!!!!!#man i love twilight princess #except for the stupid hard chase scene with Ilia and the sick zora prince in the cart going across hyrule field #shit suckkkkkeeeddddd and i did it with a gamepad for the gamecube its even Worse on the wii #but nonetheless twilight princess is so slay #im in love with the entire loz franchise tho so i cant say anything about favorites #i could Get Into That Shit And Talk All Damn Day if you let me cuz there are so many good ones and bad ones and nostalgic ones and blah bla #this shit took me like an hour to make #the picture was the easy part but DAMN the tagging ui on the tumblr mobile app is So Bad #why cant i edit tags after i see they're misspelled when i add them too quickly #AND WHY IS IS IMPOSSIBLE TO REARRANGE THE TAGS AFTER ADDING THEM #i try and move a tag up One and it goes All The Way To The Top then i try to move one down and it just Doesnt Move #WHY IS IT ALSO SO QUICK TO DELETE THE TAGS WITH THE BACKSPACE BUTTON WHYYYYY #discovering the pain of this app as we go but we go anyways 🤪

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nanamiskentos · 7 months ago

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MAMA, A DIVA BEHIND YOU! — toji fushiguro sfw!

prologue. → toji loves his son, he really does. unfortunately, young megumi is less than receptive when it comes to toji's efforts to impress the pretty neighbour who just moved into the apartment down the hall.

or five times megumi actively made toji's love life worse. and the one time he actually helped.

pairing. toji fushiguro x afab!reader

warnings. megumi is his own warning. mild age gap implied. non sorcerer au, toji is raising megumi on his own. reader has she/her pronouns. nothing else, just shenanigans :) toji gets knocked down a few pegs by his son 😭 mildly ooc toji <3

word count. song inspiration. paper rings — taylor swift

a/n. this is sooo silly and for fun lol 😭 i feel like you can tell this just isn't my genre or writing style 😭

mp3. i like shiny things, but i'd marry you with paper rings <3

TOJI FUSHIGURO didn't have a lot of treasures in life. he just wasn't that type of guy. treasures were for people with their lives together — the kind who budgeted for organic vegetables and owned matching socks. toji's list of prized possessions was short: a semi-reliable pay check, a fridge that kept his beer cold on a good day, and the one channel that aired late-night baseball games.

oh, and his kid. megumi fushiguro.

the little brat was the one thing in toji's life he could call a blessing without choking on the word. but lately? toji was seriously considering the logistics of international shipping. could you send a five year old punk to siberia? where was the paperwork for that?

everything had been fine. hell, downright manageable. until you moved in down the hall.

at first, toji didn't give a fuck. neighbours were usually either noisy or nosy, and sometimes the tragic combination of both. the last guy had banged on his door at least once a week, yelling about toji's late-night weightlifting sessions and muttering something about 'quiet hours.'

toji had pegged you for the same. maybe with a yoga met and too many scented candles.

but then, you showed up on his doorstep with a kind smile that could probably light up half the districts in the city. and a polite, sweet, "excuse me, but could you help me with my bed frame?"

and that was it.

the universe must've been real bored, because that was the moment it decided that toji fushiguro — self proclaimed expert on not giving a damn, was going to lose his damn mind like cupid has struck him with the painful arrows of a crush. and he was a goner.

take #1 — my neck, my back

spring in tokyo had come into full bloom, the kind of day where the air smelled faintly of sunshine, and the cherry blossoms drifted around like lazy, little freeloaders. below the apartment complex, the park wasn't much to write home about — a scrappy patch of grass, a couple of benches that looked like they'd seen some shit, and a swing set that squeaked like it had a vendetta against joy.

but for toji? it was good enough.

he'd figured this 'let me show you around because i'm so friendly' outing would be low effort. easy. casual and neighbourly, even. except now, he was leaning against a tree which was far harder than it sounded when his lower back was screaming at him louder than megumi had this morning about brushing his teeth.

but you stood nearby, smiling that damn warm and disarming smile of yours, gently plucking a stray blossom from megumi's messy hair. the kid, for his part, was pointedly ignoring you both, kicking rocks with the type of dedication usually reserved for a brat trying to avoid his homework.

toji cleared his throat, "so, uh, the area's not bad. quiet most of the time. that convenience store over there's open late. great for snacks. or milk. y'know, the owner's a bit of a bitc —"

"why are you standing like that?"

megumi's voice cut through his rehearsed tour like a rusty knife.

toji shot him a sharp glance. a look that screamed: keep your mouth shut, kid.

megumi just tilted his head, all faux innocence, and then delivered the killing blow with those sea-green eyes gleaming in what toji was certain was pure maliciousness, "dad, your back hurts again, doesn’t it?"

toji froze, scrambling for damage control, but you were already pressing your lips together, trying not to laugh. trying. but he could see the corners of your mouth twitching.

"back's fine," toji huffed, straightening up too fast. something in his spine must have popped loud enough to startle a crow off a branch, "solid a rock, hah! good as new."

megumi glanced at his scuffed sneakers, and then back up, "you said it was hard getting off the couch this morning. didn't you say you're old now and falling apart?"

toji's entire soul left his body. the punk was a traitor to a family name. he should have just sent megumi back to the clan long ago.

"don't you have a rock to kick?" he hissed.

"already did all that."

and that was it. your laugh finally burst out, bright and loud, ringing through the little patch of a park. toji found himself staring at you like some idiot in a rom-com who’d just realised he was completely doomed.

"kids, huh?" he muttered, throwing megumi a glare that promised revenge.

"kids," you agreed, eyes still sparkling as you excused yourself, something about leaving a pot on the stove. you gave toji one last look as you turned to go, warm and soft with that lingering amusement.

toji leaned back against the tree once you were gone, letting out a long sigh. megumi was still standing there, kicking the same patch of dirt, as though he were trying to discover unseen archaeological wonders underneath the earth.

"you're lucky i don’t sell you to a circus," toji grumbled under his breath.

megumi didn’t even look up, "you wouldn’t get that much for me."

smart-ass kid.

take #2 — the liar's pants are blazing on fire

walking someone home shouldn't have felt like scaling mount fuji, but toji fushiguro was now sweating bullet. the evening was crisp, the air cool enough to keep him from outright drowning in these stupid nerves, but it helped little.

the streetlights flickered on one by one, casting a faint yellow glow over the neighbourhood. nothing fancy — just rows of small apartments with laundry dangling off balconies and the occasional stray cat darting under parked car. it wasn't exactly romantic, but in the soft glow of the spring, it didn't look that bad.

you walked besides him, laughing at some half-assed joke he'd cracked earlier. and damn, toji liked that sound. more than he should've. more than he'd admit to anyone, including himself. now though, the silence had crept back in, and he was left psyching himself up for the move.

just hold her hand, his brain hissed, it's not rocket science. come on, man. no! wait, give her a compliment, call her hot. ugh, idiot. don't say that yet -

his thick fingers flexed awkwardly at this side as he tried to look natural. a valiant losing battle when every nerve in his body screamed, you have one job, fushiguro. don't ruin this.

"dad!"

toji's head snapped up like a startled animal, and there he was. megumi. his kid. his little shadow. gasping, clutching his throat, and staggering toward them like a samurai dying in glorious battle.

"dad! i — i can't breathe!" megumi wheezed, voice raspy as he doubled over in dramatic agony.

toji blinked. what the —

"i think i'm dying!" megumi croaked, collapsing onto the sidewalk with all the subtlety of a boulder tumbling down a hill.

toji sighed, already pinching the bridge of his nose. should’ve known. thid kid had been hanging around that white-haired freak downstairs too much. what had that gojo satoru been teaching him? shakespearean death monologues?

"what is it this time?" toji asked flatly, his voice like gravel.

"maybe, maybe it's the peanuts!" megumi sputtered, clutching his chest now, because why not? "the ones i ate at home! i think i'm allergic!"

toji stared at him, unimpressed. this was the same kid who could inhale salted peanuts by the handful, barely pausing for air, like he was training for some bizarre snack-eating championship.

"you're not allergic," toji deadpanned.

"i think i am!" megumi wheezed, dropping to his knees, his little hands shaking dramatically.

"oh my god!" you gasped, wide-eyed. "should we — i mean, do we need to take him to the hospital? i can drive —"

toji waved a rough hand, trying to salvage what little dignity he had left, "nah, kid’s fine. just go on home. i'll handle this."

"but —"

"it's fine," toji insisted, forcing what he hoped was a reassuring smile, even as megumi collapsed onto the pavement like he��d been struck by lightning.

you had hesitated, clearly torn, but eventually nodded, "okay… but call me if you need anything, okay?"

toji nodded, biting back the heat threatening to crawl up his neck. "yeah, yeah. go on."

the second you turned the corner, toji crouched next to his "dying" son, who immediately cracked one eye open and coughed weakly for good measure.

"what the hell was that?" toji grunted, "what did i say about huffing gasoline in the laundry?"

"don't do it."

toji flicked the punk's forehead, "mhm, so?"

megumi shrugged, sitting up and dusting off his pants. "thought i was allergic."

"to peanuts? that shit you eat everyday?"

"better safe than sorry, dad."

toji huffed, ruffling a hand through his choppy black hair. he glanced in the direction you’d gone, muttering under his breath, "you're lucky you’re cute, kid."

the next morning, toji opened his door to find a basket sitting on the mat. a pristine, gingham-lined basket packed with golden, buttery pastries and muffins that smelled like heaven. attached was a note:

for megumi! i hope he’s feeling better!

karmic justice demanded that toji sit down, scarf it entirely, and leave nothing but crumbs for the little brat. he'd earned that much.

take #3 — they didn't get my nose right!

toji fushiguro didn’t get flustered easily. fights? He could eat a punch for breakfast. bills? well, avoidance was a valid financial strategy. but you, sitting on his couch, smiling at him like you’d never met a red flag you didn’t want to rehabilitate, while unpacking groceries for him and megumi? that was uncharted territory.

terrifying.

the apartment was...presentable. which was more than he could say ten minutes before you arrived, when he'd barked at megumi like a drill sergeant to hide every suspicious stain and questionable stack of dishes. now, the faint sting of cleaning spray lingered in the air, and the tiny place almost looked cozy. not that toji would admit it.

"you didn’t have to bring anything," he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

"oh, it's no trouble!" you chirped, beaming like some kind of saint. "i thought you and megumi might like some fresh vegetables. and i couldn’t resist grabbing some sweets for him."

from the corner of the room, megumi's ears perked up at sweets. he dropped the crayon he’d been chewing (toji pretended not to see it) and padded over, all innocent wide eyes and suspiciously good behaviour.

"dad," megumi started, his tone way too angelic for a kid who regularly schemed like a demonic manga villain, “can i show her my drawing?"

toji utterly froze.

megumi never asked to show off his drawings. usually, he just thrust them into unsuspecting hands like a nosy salesman who couldn't take no for an answer. this? this was premeditated.

"uh," toji grunted, squinting at the kid. "maybe later. she’s busy."

but you, bless your overly trusting heart, smiled and said, "oh, i'd love to see it! i'm sure it's adorable."

toji didn’t even have time to stop him. megumi whipped out a crumpled paper from his pocket like he was smuggling state secrets and handed it to you with an air of triumph.

you unfolded it carefully, and toji wanted to crawl into the walls.

there it was: a chaotic, technicolor mess of lines and smudges.

and centre stage?

a terrifyingly accurate caricature of him labeled "dad," locked in what could only be described as a life-or-death struggle with a rabid raccoon twice his size. above his head, a speech bubble screamed, "no!" while the raccoon yelled back, "mine!"

toji groaned so loud it could’ve registered on the richter scale, "kid. seriously?"

your laughter was instant and loud, the kind that made you clutch your sides and tear up. "this — oh my god, this is amazing!" you wheezed, doubling over.

"it’s not even accurate," toji muttered, crossing his arms, his biceps straining against his shirt like they were trying to leave this embarrassing moment behind. "i won."

"dad didn’t win," megumi piped up, as smug as a kid who’d just blown up his old man’s spot in front of a pretty lady, "the raccoon stole the chips."

"megumi," toji growled, pinning him with a glare that would’ve made lesser beings tremble. the kid just shrugged, popping another crayon into his mouth like this was all part of his five-year master plan.

later, after you’d left, still giggling and promising to "treasure" the drawing, toji leaned over the kitchen table where megumi was innocently snacking on his candy.

'kid," toji said, his voice low and dangerous, "if you ever pull something like that again, i’ll eat your crayons. one by one. and i'll make you watch."

megumi didn’t even flinch, cool as a cucumber, "good luck. i hid all the good ones."

take #4 — take your broke ass home!

the neighborhood festival was the kind of event that came together with duct tape and misplaced enthusiasm. a few janky game booths, a cotton candy machine that looked like it ran on prayers, and a ferris wheel that creaked like it was auditioning for a horror movie. but toji didn’t mind. he had a plan.

this was going to be his moment.

he invited you under the pretense of "fun time" for megumi, but really, it was to show you what a catch he was. buff, capable, ruggedly charming — he was ready to prove it all. what better way than with a little festival bravado? he’d win you a giant stuffed panda or one of those oversized bears that could double as a couch. easy.

you and megumi stood by a booth plastered with painted bullseyes, rows of rubber balls stacked neatly on the counter. toji rolled up his sleeves, flexing his arms just enough to catch your attention. he reached into his pocket, pulling out a wad of crumpled cash like he was buying the entire festival, "watch this."

from beside him, megumi crossed his arms. his eyes squinted with the kind of judgment only an six-year-old could muster. then, like a sniper, he fired off the line that would ruin toji's day.

"careful, dad," megumi said, voice loud enough to turn a few heads. "that’s our grocery money for the week."

toji froze mid-reach for the first ball and his jaw clenched. slowly, painfully, he turned to face megumi, who was standing there with a look of angelic smugness.

"megumi," toji growled through gritted teeth, "let's remember who brought you here."

megumi didn’t miss a beat, "oh, right. i'm just worried that dinner tomorrow is soy sauce soup."

"kid’s got jokes," toji muttered, rubbing the back of his neck, his cocky energy now entirely replaced by something closer to "please make this stop."

"oh, i don’t think he’s joking," you teased, tears forming at the corners of your eyes from laughing too hard.

"yeah, definitely not joking," megumi deadpanned, "dad’s gonna start eating protein powder straight from the jar."

"megumi," toji barked, praying for divine intervention that would include his son being carried off by a stork, "you’re grounded."

"for what? telling the truth?"

before toji could escalate into full-on dad-mode, the game attendant — clearly desperate to avoid whatever domestic drama was brewing, handed toji a stuffed panda.

"here, sir, on the house," he said with a strained smile, like he was hoping toji wouldn’t throw a ball through the booth.

toji grabbed the panda and shoved it into your hands with all the grace of a man trying to save face, "here. told you i'd win ya something."

you had just hugged the panda, still grinning ear to ear, "who knew you had a sweet spot? i'll cherish it forever, especially after hearing how hard you worked for it."

megumi, the little bastard, had already wandered off to scope out the cotton candy stand.

toji watched him go, then glanced at you, feeling oddly resigned, "i’m never bringing him to one of these again."

"oh, come on," you said, nudging him playfully, "i'm glad we came. this was fun. besides, he's a sweet kid."

he wondered if you were half-blind, but held his tongue. instead toji groaned, rubbing his temples, 'kid’s not eating for a week."

take #5 — brought the heat back!

it was a quiet thursday evening, the kind of night that lured people into thinking life wasn’t a complete dumpster fire. the sky was fading into a smug sort of pink, and a light breeze was making it just nice enough to forget toji's apartment was a little too warm because he’d cheaped out on air conditioning.

you’d accepted his invitation for dinner, and now here he was, a grown man trying to pretend he wasn’t about to impress the hell out of you with his cooking.

see, toji wasn’t just some dude who could barely boil water. nah, this man knew his way around the kitchen — specifically around a bowl of spicy curry that could win hearts. but he couldn’t let you know that.

toji liked to think that he had a reputation to uphold: rough around the edges, dangerously hot, and way too casual about everything.

so when you walked in, he scratched the back of his head like he’d just thrown the recipe together from a vague memory, muttering, "i dunno, figured i'd try somethin’ new. if it’s bad, there’s takeout."

except this wasn’t new. toji knew exactly what he was doing. his curry was legendary in very specific circles — namely, his own ego.

meanwhile, megumi was hanging around the kitchen like a suspicious little gargoyle, all quiet and sneaky-eyed. that should’ve been the first warning sign.

and when dinner was served, toji had to admit it, it looked perfect. rich, golden curry with just the right balance of spice, heat curling off the plates like a victory lap. hah, an easy win.

you had taken a polite bite, smiling at first. until your face suddenly froze like you'd just been slapped by a fire demon.

"what, it's too spicy?" toji asked, as he watched you struggle to smile. your lips twitching like they were trying to run away.

"no, no!" you wheezed, "it's — it's really good. just got a lil' kick to it, that's all!"

kick? toji blinked. you looked as though you had been delivering a roundhouse to the face.

suspicious now, he scooped up a big bite himself. the moment it hit his tongue, he nearly choked. his sinuses exploded, his tongue went numb, and he could feel sweat instantly forming on his brow.

"what the fuck," he sputtered, slamming down his fork and lunging for his water. toji guzzled it like a man who’d just escaped a desert, while you valiantly kept nibbling as though your dignity depended on it.

megumi, sitting way too calmly at the table, didn’t even flinch. he was eating like the curry was perfectly fine, which made it even worse. this little freak.

toji squinted at his only child, "megumi. what did you do?"

"nothing," the kid said, wide-eyed and dripping with fake innocence. too fake, tsk, toji knew that look. "just...helped with the seasoning."

toji’s stomach dropped, as his blood pressure rose, "how much seasoning?"

megumi shrugged, stabbing at his rice like he wasn’t actively committing a felony, "i dunno. a lot. jus' wanted to be helpful, dad."

"y'trying to kill me? her? yourself?!"

you laughed nervously through the pain, "ah, toji. it’s really not that bad —"

"don’t lie, doll" toji snapped, shooting you a look, "sweatin' like you ran a marathon."

"so are you!" you shot back, snickering. and you weren’t wrong. toji's forehead looked like he’d just finished a full-body workout.

megumi leaned back in his chair, chewing slowly, and said with an infuriating amount of smugness, "i like spicy food."

toji pointed at him, wondering if it would be easier to pick up the kid and launch him out the window, "you better start liking ramen, ‘cause that’s all you’re eating for the next week."

"fine with that," megumi said, clearly unbothered, "isn't that what i eat all the time anyway?”

toji groaned, dragging a hand through his messy hair, which now stuck to his forehead in sweaty, choppy strands.hHe turned to you, desperate for some kind of redemption. "this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. it’s normally amazing. i swear."

"it’s fine," you laughed, even as you sipped water like your life depended on it. "honestly, i think it’s kinda cute."

that threw him for a loop. "cute? what’s cute about this? i just served you a bowl of liquid hell."

you grinned, a little too amused for his liking. "it’s the effort."

toji, for once in his life, had no comeback. he just sighed, defeated, and grabbed his phone to order takeout. megumi, meanwhile, looked entirely too pleased with himself, even lifting the bowl to his lips to smack away the remnants of the soup that he slurped.

interlude: the peace talks

you’re standing outside toji's dingy apartment building, where even the cracks in the walls look like they’ve seen some things. you’re not entirely sure why you’re here. okay, that’s a lie. you’re absolutely sure— it’s because of him. that rough-edged, broad-shouldered man who can bench press your common sense into oblivion. but of course, you’re telling yourself it’s "just to check in."

totally innocent.

you knock. a few beats of silence, then the door creaks open just wide enough for a face to peek out. it's megumi fushiguro, toji's odd kid, and his expression already screams ugh. the kind of look that says, "what does this clown want?"

"uh, hi," you say, suddenly unsure if you’re allowed to be nervous around a first grader, "is toji here?"

megumi stares at you like you just asked if the sky was plaid, "nope," he says flatly, but doesn’t move. he keeps the door partially open, like he’s either waiting for you to leave or deciding if you’re even worth his time.

"oh. okay, that's fine, i'll just —" you motion vaguely toward the stairs, already regretting this whole situation. but then the kid speaks up.

"why do you wanna see him?" his tone is casual, but his eyes? sharp like sea-glass. too sharp for someone so young. he’s leaning on the doorframe now.

you blink, mind going blank.

"i don’t...i mean, i was just dropping by to say hi. that’s all."

megumi tilts his head, scrutinising you like you’re a suspect in a crime only he knows about, "do you like my dad?"

you choke on what must be your last breath on this earth, "what?! no! i mean, what are you even saying, he's..."

you’re spiralling, and megumi's smug little smirk says he knows it. He’s enjoying this way too much.

"sure," he says with a shrug, stepping back into the apartment. he leaves the door wide open like it’s an invitation — or maybe a saw trap. against your better judgment, you follow him in.

megumi plops down on the couch, picking up a laptop like you’re not even there, "you’re not the first," he mutters without looking up.

"what’s that supposed to mean?" you ask, trying to sound casual but failing miserably.

he shrugs again, still not meeting your gaze, "just saying, dad’s got... fans." he says it with the kind of disdain only a kid can muster when talking about their parent, "but you’re, like... different."

"different how?" you ask, instantly regretting it. you shouldn’t engage. this is toji's kid, not your personal gossip columnist.

megumi finally looks up, one eyebrow raised, "you don’t seem as dumb as the other ones."

wow. compliment of the century. "that's way harsh. but thanks," you say dryly, crossing your arms. "and here i thought we were bonding."

there’s a flicker of something else in the child's eyes. a glimmer of protectiveness, maybe, "look, i'm just saying...don’t get your hopes up, okay? i don't think my dad's that type of guy."

you frown, perplexed at having this conversation with a child who barely comes up past your waist, "what makes you say that?"

megumi looks like he’s about to launch into a powerpoint presentation on why toji fushiguro Is a walking red flag, but then he stops. his petulant expression shifts, softens, just a little, "i don't anyone to be sad."

and there it is. the kid act drops for a split second, and you see it. he’s not just being a little punk — he's protecting himself. maybe he’s seen toji screw up one too many times, or maybe he’s tired of people coming and going from their lives. either way, you feel a pang of sympathy.

you sit down on the edge of the couch, careful not to invade his space, "i get it,” you say gently, "and i appreciate you looking out for me, and for your father. but...maybe your dad’s not as bad as you think."

megumi snorts, "yeah, right. i think he's a mess."

"well, sometimes messy people need someone to believe in them," you say, surprising even yourself with the honesty in your voice.

he doesn’t respond right away, just stares at the laptop screen like it holds the answers to life. finally, he sighs, closing it with a decisive snap.

"fine. you can...hang out with him. or whatever. i won't pull any dumb shit,” megumi suddenly pauses at the slip of his tongue, “wait, don't tell him i said that word. but if this screws up, i'm saying ‘I told you so."

he sounds like he’s just agreed to let you borrow his favourite video game.

you smile, relieved, "deal."

just then, the front door opens, and in walks toji, all feathery raven hair, sweat-slicked muscles, and a duffel bag slung over his shoulder like he’s just conquered a small country. he pauses when he sees you, eyebrows raising in surprise. "hey, didn’t expect to see you here," he says, voice rough but warm.

before you can respond, megumi pipes up from the couch, "we had important business."

megumi watches you leave, your footsteps echoing down the hallway. you turn back once, smiling at toji like he’s just said something funny — or maybe like he’s not completely hopeless. his dad stands in the doorway, looking uncharacteristically relaxed, a satisfied smirk on his face that makes megumi's stomach churn.

how disgusting.

the second the door clicks shut, toji sighs like some kind of romantic hero from the bad drama his dad loves to secretly watch, running a hand through his choppy black hair and scratching at the back of his neck.

"isn't she cute?" coming from a guy who once tried to flirt with a waitress by asking her how many push-ups she thought he could do.

toji disappears into his room, leaving young, burdened megumi stranded on the couch with his thoughts. his dad — the six-foot-four slab of muscle and bad decisions who calls protein shakes "wizard juice" — is clearly falling for you. and honestly? megumi doesn’t hate the idea. you’re nice. you don’t talk down to him like other adults, and you don’t smell like motor oil and regret like toji's usual crowd.

but toji? his dad couldn’t woo a cactus. if this is going to happen, megumi's going to have to step in. it's the responsible thing to do.

he grabs his laptop again, boots it up, and clicks on the email icon with all the gravitas of a general preparing for war.

to: [email protected] from: [email protected] subject: hey gojo i need help message: hey gojo i need help.

he hits send, satisfied. within ten minutes, there’s a reply. gojo's always on his computer nowadays, swamped by senior finals.

to: [email protected] from: [email protected] subject: re: hey gojo i need help message: why are u emailing me. i feel weird emailing a six year old.

megumi rolls his eyes. he’s six, not stupid. he definitely thinks he's smarter than gojo satoru.

to: [email protected] from: [email protected] subject: re: re: hey gojo i need help message: i think my dad has a crush.

there’s a pause. megumi imagines goji sitting in his weirdly pristine apartment downstairs, wearing those stupid sunglasses he insists are cool, trying to process what he just read.

the reply comes in two words.

to: [email protected] from: [email protected] subject: re: re: re: hey gojo i need help message: come downstairs.

then another one.

to: [email protected] from: [email protected] subject: re: re: re: hey gojo i need help message: let’s debrief. i got cookies.

megumi shuts his laptop, slides off the couch, and heads for the door. it's time someone with real intelligence got involved.

megumi fushiguro sits at the kitchen table, eating rainbow cereal and trying to ignore the way his dad is pacing the room like a stressed-out gorilla. toji fushiguro, a walking, grunting tank of a man, is mumbling under his breath about "women" and "bad timing" and something about his shirt being "too tight." not that his dad has any normal shirts — just those stupid gym shirts.

megumi, as the only person in this house with half a brain cell, knows exactly what’s going on. his dad's got it bad for you.

not that he thinks that his dad would admit it. no, his dad's strategy for dealing with his obvious feelings is to act like a complete idiot whenever you’re around. last time, he dropped a dumbbell on himself while trying to show off. the time before that, he laughed so hard at one of your jokes he spat coffee everywhere. megumi had to clean it up.

so yeah, his dad was hopeless, and apparently, it’s megumi's job to fix it.

but megumi doesn’t think of himself as a matchmaker. he thinks of himself as a tortured genius, forced to live among lesser idiots. and frankly, he doesn’t even like the idea of his dad dating. because that's gross.

but the truth is, megumi's tired of toji stomping around the apartment like a lovesick rhino, and if getting you and his dad together means toji might finally stop asking megumi if his hair looks "cool," then so be it.

he starts small. when you knock on the door that afternoon, megumi answers and blocks the entrance like a bouncer, just like gojo told him to.

"oh, dad's not here again," he says, casual.

your face falls, and megumi immediately clocks it. bingo.

"you're in luck today, lady. wait here," he interrupts, darting inside, "i'll grab him."

except his dad is in there, muttering something about a broken pipe in the kitchen, while tapping furiously on his phone. megumi marches in, hands on his hips.

"i let her in," he announces, like a town crier.

his dad looks up, like a deer caught in the headlights of his own stupidity, "what? why didn’t you tell me? damn punk," he scrambles for a shirt.

"i'm telling you now, dad," megumi says, dully, "also, you’re acting like a weirdo. just go talk to her. ask her out."

toji freezes, halfway into his shirt, "what's gotten into you, kid? gonna drop a knife on me, huh? what am i supposed to say?"

megumi resists the urge to roll his eyes so hard they fall out of his head, "i don't know. say hi to her. maybe don't mention the gym."

his dad frowns, "you're six, punk. what do you know? people like hearing about that shit."

"not normal people."

once toji is finally presentable — or as presentable as a man with permanent bedhead and a scar on his lip can be — megumi ushers him out of the room. then, like the misunderstood mastermind he is, megumi follows quietly, lurking behind the door to eavesdrop.

toji opens the door to find you standing there, fiddling with the strap of your bag. his usual dumb smirk creeps onto his face, "hey, didn’t expect to see you here," he says, leaning on the doorframe like he thinks he’s starring in a cologne commercial.

"yeah, i was just...in the neighborhood," you say, sounding way too nervous for someone who claims this is a casual visit.

megumi winces. they’re hopeless. this is your neighbourhood, too.

toji scratches the back of his neck, a nervous tick Megumi’s only seen when he’s trying not to embarrass himself, "well, uh, you wanna come in? i was just... doing some cleaning. we can...talk, or some shit like that."

megumi knows for a fact that there's a lie in toji's words. the only cleaning his dad's ever done is shoving everything into the closet and calling it "organised."

but somehow, it works. you step inside, smiling at him like he just offered you free ice cream. now, that would be a decent offer.

from his spot behind the door, megumi mentally pats himself on the back. phase one: complete. he decides to clock out, flopping back on his rumpled bed to pull his laptop back out, immediately logging back onto his game.

but by the time you leave an hour later, toji looks like he just won the lottery. you’re smiling too, waving awkwardly before heading down the stairs. and ugh, gross! you lean in and press a soft kiss to toji's cheek before you turn.

as soon as the door shuts, toji leans against it and lets out the most ridiculous sigh megumi has ever heard.

"hah, kid. she likes me," his dad says, grinning like a lovesick idiot.

megumi, standing in the doorway to the kitchen, crosses his arms, "that's foul. but no thanks to you."

his dad opens one sharp green eye at him, and scowls. "what’s that supposed to mean?"

"it means," megumi says, feeling a lifetime of bribery for ice-cream excite him, "you owe me. big time."

toji’s standing in the doorway, looking at megumi like he just asked him to join some cult. he scratches the back of his head, giving megumi that look — like he’s trying to figure out what the hell his kid is up to now.

"eh, you look weird today," toji mutters, a half-smirk tugging at his lips. he reaches down and ruffles megumi’s hair like it’s no big deal, making it stick up even more. his hair gets all spiky and untamable, and megumi scowls, smoothing it down, trying (and failing) to get his dark spikes to behave.

"yeah, whatever, dad," megumi mutters under his breath as toji turns and saunters off into his room. toji’s probably about to do a hundred push-ups and gloat to himself. megumi can already hear the dumb grunting from the other room.

as soon as toji’s gone, megumi sits back down at the table, shoveling a spoonful of cereal into his mouth.

for once, the apartment is quiet. no random phone calls, no weird people showing up, no random training sessions that sound more like a one-man wrecking crew than “exercise.” just peace.

it’s bliss.

he takes another bite of cereal, enjoying the calm and the fact that someone else is going to have to deal with toji’s nonsense for once. it’s about time.

to: [email protected] from: [email protected] subject: mission accomplished message: it worked. my dad's in love.

a few seconds later, gojo’s reply pops up.

to: [email protected] from: [email protected] subject: re: mission accomplished message: that's great! wanna help me with the guy i like?

megumi squints at the screen, blinking twice. he closes his laptop with all the gravity of someone who has just solved world peace.

to: [email protected] from: [email protected] subject: re: re: mission accomplished message: no.

#toji fushiguro #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #megumi fushiguro #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen fluff #toji x you #jjk toji #works #daphworks

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plethorawrites · 6 months ago

Note

Oh, I really, really like your recent blurb! Jason having a secret girlfriend/family is my favorite trope, but it is so hard to find!

Would you write about silly instances where Jason spots his family in public and tries to shuffle and guide you away without you noticing?

Ahh! I feel that validated in both my love of Jason and my love of the secret relationship trope! (This might not be exactly what you were looking for, but I hope you like it anyway!)

The first time it happened was a few weeks into your relationship, back When the two of you would meet for breakfast or brunch at the little cafe, a few blocks away from where you worked.

Jason Todd would always show up, yawning and exhausted from how tired he always was since he hadn't told you about his night job yet. But he was still on time, excited to see you even if he would go straight home and nap immediately afterwards.

The two of you would always spend more time talking getting to know one another than actually looking over the menu and ordering something to eat, but neither of you minded.

Then, one day, while he was looking away from you to hide the smile you had caused, he caught sight of Tim waiting in line to order a coffee.

Without really thinking about it, he grabbed both of your menus, propping them up and leaning over the table, trying to hide both your faces.

You frowned in confusion but leaned in too, until your faces were close together. "What are you doing?" You whispered.

"Nothing," he lied poorly, being his head over the top of a menu to see if his brother was still there and darting his head back down when Tim walked past the table. He let out a breath of relief, staring at you. "You look really pretty this close."

With an amused eye roll you leaned back in your chair, folding your arms and waiting for a better explanation. "You just wanted to talk really close for a moment?"

"Okay, fine," he sighed heavily. "I wanted to look at your freckles, alright? They're adorable. The ones on your nose are really cute."

It wasn't a lie, technically. He did love them. And you actually believed him, he thought. Or if you didn't, you didn't push the topic.

The next time you accidentally ran into somebody was at the mall, when you had dragged Jason along to help you look for a dress for a mystery date night he said nothing about, except for the fact that you had to wear something nice.

It was just his luck that you had picked the same store Stephanie happened to be shopping in as well. In most circumstances, she might not even notice him when they crossed paths in public, but in a woman's clothing store which was relatively empty, there was no way she wouldn't see him when she turned around.

Without warning, he tugged you away from rack you were looking at, pulling you into a cramped dressing room, locking it behind you.

"Wha-" You stared at him like he had lost his mind. "Why are we the dressing room?"

"How do women try stuff on when they can't turn around?" He countered, ignoring your question and planting his hand on the wall by your head to try to give himself more room in the tight space.

"It's typically not made for two people," you explained "Especially not 6'2 men."

He grinned a bit. "Do you like my height?" He asked, enjoying the proximity a bit more than he would admit.

Yes. Obviously. Who wouldn't? He towered over you. His arms could wrap around your entire body without even straining to cover more skin. Plus, he could reach the top shelf so you didn't have to climb on a chair.

But it was still too early in the relationship to tell him that.

"That's besides the point," you muttered. " Why are we in the dressing room?" You repeated.

"I just...always wanted to see a woman's dressing room," he told you, frowning at his own lie.

"Seriously?" You questioned. "You could have at least picked the big one at the end. And you didn't even let me pick anything to try on."

"Right, well..I figured we could try a different store," Jason explained, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. "Nothing here would do you justice."

You huffed, finding it slightly amusing how foolish he was acting. But frankly, it wasn't terribly bad to be stuck in a tight space with him. So, you waited a moment longer before unlocking the stall.

You still had to find a dress.

Things were peaceful for a bit, you and Jason seemed to be growing stronger in your relationship and things began to get a little bit more serious. Jason seemed to be growing stronger in your relationship and things began to get a little bit more intense.

He knew that eventually he'd have to tell his family about you, but the next time he saw one of his brothers in public, he couldn't help but shy away from the task of introducing you.

In his defense, Damian really wasn't the first sibling you would want to meet.

He'd taken you to a nature preserve, because you said you used to go all the time as a kid but stopped after getting older.

You were practically giddy, feeding the animals from your palm, scrunching your nose when their whiskers ticked you. Jason was enjoying it too, more so because of you than the animals.

But while he was mocking you for your squeals, he heard a familiar voice having a one sided conversation with a lemur.

He turned and there was Damian, having his biweekly visit to see the animals that Father wouldn't let him bring home.

Jason cursed internally, pulling you away from the animals, accidentally spilling the feed from your hand.

"Hey, I stillwanted to see the—"

"I'll bring you back, I promise," he said, cutting you off as he dragged you behind a tree.

You wiped off your hand on your jeans and tilted your head. "What is it?"

"I just think you've been giving the animals too much attention," Jason noted. "I feel left out."

"Oh, c'mon," you rolled your eyes.

"Really," he insisted. "You kissed a sloth and a goat but not me."

He pouted a bit and leaned back against the tree, still holding you arm, though loosening his grip before running his hand up and down your arm apologetically.

You sighed, glancing around briefly, not really taking notice of the small, angry child, yelling at some poor worker, before leaning up on your tip toes to kiss his lips very quickly. "Satisfied?"

He smiled softly. "No." He shook his head, pointing to the exit. "Can we leave?" He asked gently.

"Will you bring me back?"

Jason nodded immediately. "Whenever you want," he said.

You gave up and left with him.

Now, if you really thought about it, you could easily put two and two together, but really, the instances were so far apart that you didn't really question the strange behavior.

He had managed to be, for the most part, pretty subtle about pulling you away from his family whenever he encountered them, as few and far between as those moments were.

Like the time you were walking down the street while it was raining and he spotted Duke crossing the street towards your direction. Even though he knew you loved the rain and hated umbrellas, he still pulled his jacket off, covering your head.

"Jay, I told you, I'm fine," you assured him, trying to move it off of you.

"Yeah, but you'll catch a cold," he insisted, pulling even further over your head while blatantly stealing an umbrella from a small stand that was selling them.

He popped it open, covering his own face as you walked past Duke.

"I will not," you told him, finally tugging it off. You frowned, not feeling any rain on your skin. "Where the hell did the umbrella come from?"

"Uh- someone handed it to me," Jason muttered. "Nice man."

And even though he despised running into people he knew because it always put him on high alert, trying to figure out what to do or where to go to keep whoever they ran into from spotting them, sometimes, he actually rather enjoyed the chance to pull you away from the rest of the world.

For instance, when you insisted on going to a carnival, which he wasn't a big fan of at first, until you guys got there and he saw your eyes twinkling at all the lights.

Any thoughts of boredom were quickly drowned out by the sound of your screams on the scarier rides, when you'd reach for his hand. And he bought every single treat you so much as looked at— the funnel cakes, the fresh lemonade, the Carmel corn.

He was watching you pull fresh cotton candy from the stick it was spun around when out of the corner of his eye he caught his brother Dick, along with Wally walking across the fair grounds.

Jason was sure they wouldn't notice you with how far away they were, but he refused to take the chance. So, he interlocked your hands, tugging you into a nearby photo booth as you made a sound of confusion.

"Just thought we should grab a souvenir," he said, beating you to the punch before you could ask what he was doing.

"I'm still eating my cotton candy," You told him. "I should fix my hair too."

Jason got a devilish glint in his eye and ran his hand through your hair jostling it further as you screeched in disbelief. "I think it looks good like that," he admitted, staring at you now that it had a bit more volume.

You blew a loose strand from your face. "I can't believe you did that," you stated. "It's all disheveled."

He nodded, still thinking it looked beautiful. Sort of like how it was when you woke up next to him.

"C'mon," he urged, pulling you into his lap. "I like you this way." He threw a few quarters in the slot and before you knew it you had a strip of three pictures, none of which were appropriate to show to anyone.

A picture of him stealing your cotton candy, a picture of him nuzzling your neck while you scrunched your nose in the way that made his heart clench, and a picture of him tasting said cotton candy on your tongue.

So, maybe it was an over reaction to pull you away from the rest of his carnival when it was huge and chances were Dick never would have even seen you. But God, did he enjoy it.

Then, there were, of course, the far less subtle times which didn't end quite as well.

Like when you just so happened to be walking out of a movie at the same time Cassandra and Barbara were heading into one.

"I think the sequel might actually be better than the original," you told him, arms interlinked as you walked.

"Uh huh," he wasn't paying attention anymore after seeing his sister and Babs at the soda machine, filling up their drinks.

He couldn't exactly pull you into a different theater, especially since he didn't know which one they would be going into.

The next best option? Throwing the empty popcorn bucket over your head.

"Jay?!" You exclaimed.

"It's a discount thing," he muttered vaguely, grimacing at his own excuse. "Wear the bucket out and you get a free movie."

Okay, not the next best, probably. Maybe like...sixth best? Seventh at most.

He pulled you past them, keeping his hand on the top of the bucket to keep it in place while raising his hoodie and keeping on the 3D glasses from the movie until you were past them both.

Once you were, he pulled it off and you were...well, fuming. Rightfully so.

"What the hell was that?" You asked, a bit bitterly, not buying his excuse for a second. "I'm covered in popcorn butter.

He cleared his throat, kissing your greasy cheek and licking his lips tasting a salty popcorn and butter on your skin. "Tastes good, though," he mumbled.

You stormed out on him.

And then, when you chose to walk all the way back to your apartment in frustration, both with his actions and lies, he finally came clean.

"I just... don't want my family to mess anything up between us," he confessed, barely even looking at you.

Vulnerability wasn't his strongest asset, but he was trying. For you.

You washed your face off in the sink for the third time and still felt greasy. Even if you got it all off your face, you'd need a shower to get it out of your hair.

"Why couldn't you just tell me that?" You asked, still confused. It wasn't like you didn't already know who his family was.

"I just- I didn't want you to think I was hiding you," he muttered.

"Jason, you put a bowl of popcorn over my head so your sister wouldn't see me. That's hiding," you stated firmly.

"Yes but it's not hiding out of embarrassment!" He clarified. "My family can be a lot to handle and they might scare you off and they'd definitely mock me endlessly for being in love with you."

His eyes went wide. That...was an accident. He didn't mean to confess that.

You stared at him for a moment, blinking. "Did you just say what I think you did?"

"I uh- well that wasn't..." He cleared his throat. "Yeah," he finally agreed with a slight nod. "But you don't have to say it back or anything, I know I'm not the easiest person to love and it—"

You were already kissing him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer. He was caught off guard, but it didn't take him long before he kissed you back, his hands finding your waist and steadying you both.

"You're stupidly easy to love," you told him, resting your forehead on his.

(+Bonus)

It was a quiet Friday night when the two of you were at a nice restaurant, celebrating a year of being together. The food was good, the music was soft and nice, and Jason was practically a drooling mess over you, like usual.

So much so, he didn't even notice when his father walked into the restaurant with a date of his own.

You did, though. And in keeping with the spirit of what had apparently been a pretty large part of your relationship, even without you knowing it, you slid out of the booth quickly grabbing his hand and pulling him from his chair.

"Hey, wait a second!" He exclaimed as you rushed him out of the restaurant before he got to finish his dessert. "We still have to pay."

"We'll come back tomorrow and pay," you assured him, pushing open the door, into the cold evening.

"What the hell was that about?" Jason asked once you were outside and seemingly slowed down.

You pointed towards the window. "Your dad," you muttered.

He could see Bruce sitting at a table across from Selina, his eyes scanning a menu while occasionally looking up, probably to compliment her or something.

He huffed. "Add that restaurant to the list of places we can't go," he mumbled, shrugging off his jacket and handing it to you. "It got cold outside," he simply said when you frowned in confusion.

You pulled on the nice jacket that matched his suit. "Thanks," you said, wrapping your arm around his, tugging him away from the restaurant. "C'mon, I'll buy some more dessert."

He hummed, and pressed a kiss against your head. "Alright," he agreed, letting you lead him away from the restaurant and down the street.

#x reader #headcanon #jason todd #jason todd imagine #jason todd x reader #batboys #jason todd x you #dc comics #plethorawrites

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