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forlix · 1 year

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𝘀𝘂𝗯𝘁𝗲𝘅𝘁・l.f.

— in which you forget that your hot housemate follows you on twitter.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀・1.1k 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴・roommate!felix x gn!streamer!reader 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲𝘀・fluff, flirting, kind of an smau, implied friends to lovers, humor if u count jeongin being a piece of shit

𝗮/𝗻・saw this tweet the other day and it was so painfully lix coded that i knew i had to write something asap. contains a tiny bit of gaming jargon but is hopefully comprehensible. ENJOY ♡

y/n ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹ @ y/nxx

if someone brings you fresh cut fruit to your table when you're gaming, they either like LIKE you or it's your mom

11:23 A.M.・Oct. 2023・220.2K Views

bokkie 🐣 liked your post.

“My tweet?”

You read aloud the newest text in your chatroom, and your face brightens when you remember the one in question.

“Oh, about the fruit—no, it’s so true though. And I love my mom, don't get me wrong, but I have an inkling she did it to guilt trip me." You change your posture and adopt your best motherly tone of voice. "‘This is your tenth consecutive hour wasting your young adulthood in front of that damn screen. I am now going to hand deliver apple slices straight to your mouth.’ That kind of vibe, y'know?"

A slew of messages follows your anecdote, but it is a comment from one of your moderators that catches your eye first:

je0ng1n: what about the other option tho 👀

You groan at the sight of his username. “Man, why are you always here? Don't you have a job?"

je0ng1n: i’m on break je0ng1n: taking a dump je0ng1n: ungrateful bitch

You brandish a middle finger to the camera. “Hope the dump sucks."

je0ng1n: HEY je0ng1n: don’t even joke about that :(

An involuntary cackle precedes your next words. “If you’re actually wondering, though, the only person who’s brought me fruit while I’m playing video games is indeed my mother. Heartbreaking, I know.”

At this, the steady flow of messages morphs into a gallery of depressed cat emoticons; your audience never fails to impress you with their way with words.

“But if someone other than your disappointed parent is bringing you fruit,” you go on, “they might as well get on one knee in the process, honestly. That's such an adorable, loving thing to do.”

Suddenly, the words MATCH FOUND splash across your monitor, and you move your cursor to accept the game invite—only to be met with a pop-up window and a familiar error sound that grates on your ears like screeching tires.

You know how this story ends: the lights in your mouse go dark, and you look on in dejected silence.

je0ng1n: LMFAOOOOO je0ng1n: bro’s mouse definitely just exploded again

“You guessed it," you sigh. “Hang tight for a sec, guys."

Half an hour ago, you could’ve sworn you heard sneakers being kicked off, a set of keys falling against plastic. Now, you pull one side of your headphones off and roll your chair a few feet backward, calling through your half-open door: “Lix, are you home?”

You pick up on a soft clunk that sounds like metal hitting wood—the cutting board, maybe?—and then your housemate's low, accented answer bounces off the walls of your shared hallway.

“Yeah, you alright?”

“The mouse,” you say helplessly.

“Ah.” It’s not the first time you’ve summoned him for this. “Be right there.”

A few seconds later, you remember to tack on a hurried disclaimer: “I’m live, by the way!”

“I know.”

This brings a bashful smile to your face, though the expression quickly turns to one of pure dismay when you return to your desk and witness the disastrous state of your chat.

Felix has become a regular guest on your stream by now, always popping in to show you a TikTok or ask for your opinion on a new pair of jeans or simply give your camera an awkward wave—but he may as well own your channel with how completely and unequivocally he has captured the hearts of your viewers. They’re convinced he’s the sexiest person to ever grace the earth, with his chiseled features and coffee-colored eyes; with a grin that could set entire estates on fire and a voice that could scrape the nadir of the Grand Canyon.

Do you agree? Absolutely.

Do you have any intention of voicing this sentiment, so long as you’re splitting rent with him? Absolutely the hell not.

Another of Jeongin’s messages—GET ME HIS NUMBER OR I GET VIOLENT—inspires you to minimize the stream window before Felix gets here. It’s for the best.

A few moments later, the door opens, and the air shifts inside your room. A hand comes to rest on the top of your head; a familiar silhouette appears in your periphery. There is a fond grin plastered across your face and a bright greeting sitting readily on the tip of your tongue.

But then, Felix places a plate of freshly cut fruit in the empty space to the left of your keyboard—here, he hums, the sound falling against the shell of your ear like a drop of melted chocolate. And the gears of your brain grind to a complete stop.

There is no further acknowledgment; no supplementary explanation for what he's just done. He simply picks up your mouse and gets to work.

The words of your tweet swim dizzyingly before your eyes, not unlike those halos of stars and birds that revolve around disoriented cartoon characters. And you’re suddenly, achingly aware of your roommate's arm nudging against yours as he tinkers away; of the aromas of vanilla and laundry detergent that always come with his proximity; of the heat that’s risen to your face, and the plethora of questions that have surfaced to your mind.

A soft huff of laughter follows a gentle utterance of your name, and you snap out of your trance. Felix’s eyes are glinting with amusement when you meet them.

“It’s been recalibrated,” he says, handing back your mouse. “Just give it a few minutes.”

Your fingertips brush over his palm when you accept the object, and even this blink of contact has your heart performing an elaborate hopscotch routine across the plane of your chest.

It’s either your mom, or…

“Thank you,” you mumble, finally retrieving your larynx from the bottom of the Atlantic.

“Anytime,” Felix returns, and you know he means it. “You need a duo, by the way?"

“Yes, please.”

He gives you a warm smile at this, and there’s a hint of something else—something new—in the curve of his lips. “Give me two.” And he’s gone as quickly as he'd come.

You will never know how Felix slips his phone out of his pocket the second he emerges from your room, his pulse hounding his ears as he turns a nervous gaze upon his screen.

There is now a supersonic blur of messages saturating your chatroom, a colorful cacophony of moving emotes and capital letters, but he is focused wholly on the person in front of the camera and how you slowly lift a hand to your mouth, deathly silent despite your every viewer demanding your comment on the matter, your sanguine cheeks visible even through the gaps of your fingers.

That is all he needs to know.

Felix sinks into the leather of his gaming chair and bends to power on his computer. Only after a deep breath blows past his lips does his smile start to stretch into a grin, every bit as embarrassed as it is relieved.

je0ng1n: no way je0ng1n: no fucking way je0ng1n: my heart fluttered je0ng1n: wtf je0ng1n: how’d you pull HIM??

y/nxx has removed je0ng1n as a moderator of this channel.

𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other works here. thanks so much for the support ♡

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universalitgirlsblog2 · 5 months

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🧁🍥STOP BEING LAZY AND PATHETIC🧁🍥

This post is my notes of Thewizardliz video on how to stop being lazy and pathetic. This account will be my digital notebook where I will write notes from Liz and Tam Kaur's videos ( LOL ) .

🧁WHO ARE LAZY PEOPLE ?

Lazy people are the forgotten ones. People that don't want to do anything with their lives, they will always end up on a sideline.

🍥REALIZE THAT NO ONE CARES IF YOU ARE LAZY

Everybody has problems. No one cares about your victim mindset and about how life was hard or unfair for you. Life is unfair to everyone . Life goes on. Everyone is busy with their own lives. We got to get moving !

🧁YOU AREN'T LAZY , YOU ARE PRIVILEGED

People that need to survive have no option to be lazy . People that are walking up the stairs and they can barely breathe , they have no option anymore than to lose that weight. People that are so vulnerable and their bodies cannot handle of them being so underweight have no option but to lose weight. People that have to go to work otherwise there is no food on the table. They have no option to be lazy. If you have the option to be lazy, you are privileged.

🍥THE HALO EFFECT

The halo effect is when we see a beautiful person , we will think that they are less likely to do something bad because we associate someone beautiful with being a good person. Its the same way with successful person. If we see a successful person in any field , we will assume that they are successful in all their aspects of life. Suppose if a person have a successful business , we will automatically think that they are successful in their relationships and everywhere. If you are lazy , you can't benefit from the halo effect . It takes effort to be beautiful and to maintain beauty. We only see these successes , we don't see the progress. Most people are privileged and have it all but most people come from zero and create it for themselves. It takes discipline.

🧁FOCUS ON YOUR LIFE FORCE : HEALTH , DIET AND RELATIONSHIPS

When you feel that you are lazy , focus on your life force . What is your life force ? Health and diet. Focus on moving your body and eat foods that don't spike your insulin and eat food that nourish your body. When you feel lazy or don't feel good , don't isolate yourself. Connect with your family and friends. Also focus on your relationship with yourself. What are you engaging your mind in ? Be connected to your own energy. Journal. Sometimes God or your guides are speaking to you but because your mind is constantly racing , you can't listen to them.

🍥CREATE ROUTINES AND STICK TO THEM

Humans need routines. You need a structurised routine. Sometimes we can't stick to routines but we need a base so we have something to go back to. I would like to add something here , I am reading a book by Brianna Wiest , it's called 101 essays that will change the way you think. There was line in the book . " As children, routine gives us a feeling of safety. As adults , it gives us a feeling of purpose ."

🧁CLEAN SPACE IS SELF RESPECT

Clean space is a clean mind. Not even cleaning after yourself is a sign of huge disrespect to yourself. Stop reading this and clean your room right now !!!!!

🍥THERE IS REASON WHY YOU MADE THAT COMMITMENT TO YOURSELF

Remember the reason . Remind yourself, " Why did I even start ? " " Why did I even want this goal ?" . If you don't want the goal anymore then do something else.

🧁THINK ABOUT WHAT STORY ARE YOU TELLING YOURSELF

If you are telling yourself that you are a lazy person , you will act like one. Your mom didn't carry you for 9 months just for you to say that you are lazy. Get a hold of yourself. Don't complain about how you don't have your dream life if you are lazy.

🍥REALISE YOU CAN CHANGE YOUR REALITY ANY SECOND

You can change your realities really fast if you start acting like the person you want to become.

🧁HEAL THE PAST AND MOVE ON

Go to therapy and heal from the past. You can change your story around . If you are a victim of trauma or abuse , don't just go around and tell people because they lose respect for you .

🍥YOUR BODY RESPONDS TO YOUR THOUGHTS AND FEELINGS

If you are constantly living in the past , reliving it , your body will make you ill. If you want a different outcome and different future, you have to do things differently. People around you don't need to change, you have the power to control that. You have the responsibility to heal yourself. What others did to you , it is on them . They will get their karma.

🧁ARE YOU LAZY OR DID YOU STOP PROGRESSING ?

People become happy when they start progressing. We constantly need that drive or something to strive for. Create a new project . Find a new hobby. Learn a new skill. Do something that you haven't tried before or pick something you used to love.

🍥TOO MUCH INFORMATION MAKES US LAZY

There is so much information on the internet to the point we don't know what to do. There are so many videos on the best diet , skincare or workout , we get consumed in other people's opinions and lives. We start filling their lives with our energy. ( Just a suggestion; you can search workout or skincare recommendations but at the end you should choose a diet or skincare or workout which suits you , not others )

🧁ARE YOU TOO CONSUMED IN OTHER PEOPLE'S LIVES ?

If you wonder to yourself : Why do I not have any energy left for myself ? Because you are too consumed in other people's lives so you aren't living your own.

🍥FEELINGS ARE NOT ALWAYS RIGHT

Feelings are just feelings. If we all just react to go out of emotions we would all unalive each other.

🧁ALLOW YOUR FEELINGS TO PURGE AND YOUR BODY TO HEAL.

Feelings purge by you feeling them. Release your emotions , don't suppress them . If you suppress those Feelings, they will get stored in your body and might show up later as physical illness. Sleeping is also healing. Let your body heal. Once that's done , get up and do something . Don't dwell there for too long.

🍥WHAT DO YOU FEEL VS WHAT DO YOU WANT ?

If you feel like eating unhealthy food but then you want your dream body. It doesn't correlate. You need to have discipline.

🧁COURAGE IS BEING VULNERABLE

Go outside and try to meet new people. Do something which you wouldn't normally do .

🍥LEARN TO ASK FOR HELP.

Learn to accept help. Sometimes God send people to help you. Ask help from God and you will receive help in miraculous ways.

🧁BE PRODUCTIVE ON YOUR OWN TERMS.

What does productivity look like for you ? What are your goals? Create that productivity mindset and visions. What works for others may not work for you.

🍥ARE THE PEOPLE AROUND YOU DRAINING YOUR ENERGY ?

If you have toxic people around you , you are constantly around them , you are going to feel bad. Distance yourself. No one can make you feel upset, you have the control over how you feel.

🧁CHANGE YOUR PERSPECTIVE ON SITUATIONS.

Most people are projecting their insecurities. Instead of feeling angry, have compassion for them. Similiarily , if you are going through a break up instead of thinking that they were the last person on earth. Think that your souls were meant to cross and then meant to separate. You learnt your lesson and they learn their lesson.Change your perspective on things .

🍥FOCUS ON THE THINGS YOU CAN DO

Think about three things you can do . What is your passion ? What makes you happy ? Who makes you happy ? Be grateful for these things. Realise that you can do alot and remind yourself of what you can actually do.

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dcxdpdabbles · 4 months

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Mr Flavor Soda Part 2

Mr. Flavor's Soda gains traction once the creator starts selling in a fixed place. Anthony's Pasta also grows in customers when word gets out that there is a surefire way of crossing paths with Mr. Flavor on Mondays and Fridays.

It's mainly because Mr. Flavor has gained a reputation for being hard to find. It was almost as if he vanished from one side of the city to the next without so much as a hint of how he got there.

However, that didn't mean he wasn't well known. He was a young teenager, likely fifteen or so, who always rushed about Gotham doing questionable parkour.

People had seen him climb up fire escapes only to do crazy leaps, looking to be aiming for his knees to break on each landing. He was spotted doing cartwheels across walking lanes, sometimes going over the hoods of cars that stopped on the lines instead of around.

He deliberately looked for the most haunted places in Gotham, walking with a traveling tea set because "the ghosts like to have tea parties." He had picnics in the middle of dark alleys, asking the air if it would like a second cup but pouring nothing from his teacup.

People were often confused by his responses when speaking to him. Nothing he said was particularly bad, but it showed his severe social awkwardness.

Customers walked away bemused but holding bottles of delicious beverages.

Another odd thing about the boy was his refusal to sell any of his creations for more than a single dollar. Nothing in Gotham was cheap. A regular Zesti was at least two dollars and nineteen cents, but Mr. Flavor looked appalled to charge so much.

A kid claiming to be among the original group that discovered Mr. Flavor, bestowing him the nickname, quoted the strange soda maker as saying, "If someone gives me a dollar, then I am one dollar richer. But if someone gives me two dollars, then they are two dollars poorer instead of only one."

It sounded humble on the surface, but it didn't really answer the questions the kid had originally asked him which were: "Why do you only charge a dollar? Why not more?"

Some people in Gotham were weary of Mr. Flavor. He didn't sound all quite there in the head. He wasn't near the level of insanity of the supervillains running around, but it wouldn't be a surprise if they all woke up one day to find out Mr. Flavor had snapped.

The remaining skeptics also regarded his drinks with cautious eyes. Despite his claims and the word of Red Hood, many wondered if Mr. Flavor was putting some kind of drug in his drink, hoping to spread it to the masses with his cheap prices.

If he was even selling soda at all.

Zesti is a familiar and beloved brand, but Mr. Flavor was once seen tasting the beverage and shouting, "Is this cream soda?!" He then bought one bottle or can of every soda option from the same gas station.

Each one was apparent "cream soda" according to Mr. Flavor. It was confirmed that the drinks the young boy made were far from the flavor of what they considered soda.

Now, Tim didn't see anything wrong with that. Jason had brought back samples of the other's work, and though the ingredients were interesting, they were ultimately confirmed to be soda. Or as close to soda as Mr. Flavor claimed it was.

He was just a bit eccentric while wandering Gotham. Nothing to worry about. Tim, knowing Jason, Bruce- and maybe even Dick with how determined his eldest brother was to try one of the sodas- had everything regarding Mr. Flavor under control; he chose to turn his attention to a series of missing people reports hitting Old Gotham.

There was no visible connection with the victims besides all having long chestnut hair. Age, gender, and social class didn't matter to whoever was taking these people- and Tim knew they were being taken. Tim found it strange that people who vanished were last seen near the same area, having built a map showcasing they were being targeted within a triangle that covered well-known shopping districts.

It was a bit of ground to cover, but Tim figured if he wandered around there long enough, he would attract the kidnapper's attention. He opened his closet, dusted off his old wig, and an hour later, Caroline Hill made her way over to Old Gotham.

Tim originally hated his Caroline Hill as he did not like disguising himself as a woman, but over time, he grew to adore how easily he could change her backstory and his mannerisms to fit with whoever Caroline was that day.

Sometimes, Caroline was a first-year medical student working through clinicals and rotations. She was overworked, under a lot of stress from her assignments, and didn't have time to be distracted by a social life, much less a man asking her out.

Sometimes Caroline was a highschool student who enjoyed community service. She was friendly, outgoing, and more then willing to take the lead in projects. She was naive and sheltered not losing faith in people quite yet.

Other times, Caroline was a high school dropout who didn't know what she wanted. She would apply to any job that would hire her, dreaming of leaving Gotham one day to find a dream to chase. To her, life was dull and meaningless.

Caroline was even a fashion model once. She was famous for her streetwear outfits and gorgeous selt-taken shots. Tim was proud to say her submission to LexCorp's phone promotion contest was still being broadcast, and she received checks for her work. She oozed confidence as a woman who knew what and when she wanted it.

It showed in her walk as she strutted down Old Gotham, stopping to enter any clothing Boutique she saw under the pretense of looking for an outfit for a big-shot party. She was dressed like the world was her runway, but not a red carpet.

If anything, she dressed like a woman who used to live in Old Gotham during its glory days, gracefully wearing the vintage outfit.

Her attire drew the eye of more than one person, especially when she ran her hand through her long, lush hair, making it fall smoothly against her lower back.

Tim figured model Caroline would be a much more tempting target, mainly because she carelessly browsed the various shops and little cafes. Anyone who watched her could tell she was unaware of her surroundings, and Tim had to carefully ensure they never doubted her blindness for even a second.

It was well; he was in an antique shop, glancing at lipstick holders, when something finally happened. The door swung open with a bang, and he allowed himself to jump as it would be something Caroline would do.

"Sorry! I gave the door a little too much razzle instead of dazzle!" a voice yells. Tim twists around to see a boy his age, with wild black hair—as if he did try to run a comb through it, but the strains refused to yield—and big, sparkling, far too aqua eyes.

Was he wearing cheap color contacts? Or was he a meta?

"No problem, Danny." Ms. Pinkney, the owner, a sweet woman who had refused to marry and was now approaching her sixties, smiled back. "Are you here again to play with Cyrus?"

"Yup, I'm going to beat him today." The boy chirps, walking over to a display that was roped off. He didn't seem to care for the sign on the red rope that read "WARNING: HAUNTED BY ANGRY SPIRIT" as he stepped over it.

It was the notoriously cursed chessboard and the two original armchairs from the eighteen hundreds.

Tim knew of the rumor that the man responsible for Gotham's architectural style- Cysrus Pinkney- had been in the middle of a chess game with his friend Solomon Wayne on the eve of his fortieth birthday when he had died.

He had been poisoned in the middle of a large party thrown by Henry Cobblepot, and no one to this day knew who his murder had been. Following Pinkney's death, terrible things happened to anyone who tried to sit or even move the chessboard. Sounds of chess pieces clicking on the board, low mutters in a man's voice, and even the chair moving back and forth began to appear.

Figthen that Cysrus still lingered; Henry had gifted Cysrus's wife the two chairs, the board, and the table it sat on. She took it home and learned that only she and her children were allowed near Cysrus.

He attacked all the others, including Solomon and his other best friend, Amadeus Arkham. The attacks were so bad that everyone eventually knew not to bother Cysrus.

He became an Urban Legend of Gotham, and many tourists would travel to Old Gotham just to gawk at the Pinkey's haunted family heirlooms.

Tim watched him confidently sit in an armchair before a chessboard. He gave the opposite chair across from him a wide smile. "Hiya Cyrus."

A lamp near Tim was flung at the boy, who took the hit with a laugh. "No need to be rude."

The lamp shattered against the ground, appearing to have been lifted again, only to fall as the boy reached out and moved a pawn. Tim's stomach dropped. His experience with Greta had taught him that ghosts were very real and, when their deaths were left unsolved, often very violent.

This guy had no idea what he was dealing with.

He opens his mouth when the teenager is suddenly flung from his seat, flying across the room and smashing against the wall. Ms. Pinkney laughs as if she just saw a toddler throw a fit.

"Honestly, grandfather, must you be so rude? Danny is just trying to play with you."

Tim watches her hair shift as if someone- or something- was ruffling her hair. Yikes, it was a poltergeist who unliked Greta was not visible but able to touch anything he pleased.

"Knight G1 to F3!" Danny yells, climbing to his feet. The scraping sounds of something being dragged across the floor as Danny twists around with his arms spread wide as a very large wardrobe rushes at him. He welcomed the attack like an old friend, nose cracking as it broke.

"Going Ghost!" Danny screams through his blood, landing on the ground as the wardrobe nearly crushes him.

Tim's mouth drops open. He's taunting Cyrus!? Not challenging his existence but straight up taunting the angered spirit?!

"Grandfather!" Ms. Pinkney scowls. "Stop this at once! You're usually more friendly than this. Danny is a guest!"

"It's okay, Ms. P! I think it's almost Cyrus' death day. All ghosts tend to get a little cranky around that time. Besides we're scaring the lady."

It takes an embarrassing amount of time for " lady" Danny to refer to him as he still wears Caroline. It's enough for the boy to leap to his feet, pat himself down—ignoring the broken nose—and strut to Tim.

Before the undercover man can say anything, Danny yanks out a bottle and hands it over. "Sorry about that, ma'am. Here, I have one on the house."

A Mr.Flavor bottle is thrust into his hands; the bubbling clear water with the leaping boy has green and yellow undertones. It's the only difference to the bottle Jason showed him not too long ago.

The teenager smiles, his teeth colored red. "You're quite pretty. Have a good day! Don't let your drink get warm!"

Then he skipped right out.

"Wha?" He blinks, and Ms. Pinkney slides right up to him with a ruthful smile.

"I know what you're thinking. I don't believe Danny is eccentric, but he has a good heart." She starts carefully, studying Tim's face with far too much intensity. It's not the kind of attention that one gives someone who they are just trying to convince to leave someone else alone. Her eyes linger on his wing for a few seconds too long.

Isn't her shop smack in the middle of the missing people's map? Interesting.

"Who was that?" He says instead, making sure Caroline's voice sounds breathy and sweet.

She smiles "Danny. But most know him as Mr.Flavor."

Tim looks at the bottle in his hands, feeling the ice-cold beverage- did he just pull it out of a freezer?- and unclips it to have a sip. It's nothing like soda, but it is at the same time.

It was far smoother than other sodas, with far more bubbles, and the flavor made his tastebuds sing.

"Oh, looks like you got Sprite. That's one of my favorites," Ms Pinkney comments. "Rare that one. Danny usually sells out by now."

"Does he come here often?"

The old woman laughs. "I'm afraid you're barking up the wrong tree, dearie."

Not what he meant, but if it kept his new number one suspect to chat more, he is fine with the assumption.

"Does he not like girls?" Tim asks, allowing his features to pull into a pout. He is very grateful that her made Caroline young enough to pass for his own real age.

"I don't believe he likes humans, I'm afraid. Male or female."

Huh?

But Ms. Pinkney's attention was distracted by the chess board, which shook slightly as the pieces previously moved by Mr. Flavor returned to their starting positions. She walked over to carefully lift up the thrown wardrobe.

Tim is quick to help her, slowly restoring the shop to its former glory. It's only after they finish that the old lady glances in the direction in which Mr. Flavor disappeared.

"Grandfather Cyrus is my great-great-great-great-grandfather. It's easier for me to call him grandfather since he's been around for generations, but his closeness has made the family tree a bit sensitive to the paranormal. I'm unsure what Danny is, but he doesn't feel human." She sighs. "I doubt he will find what he is looking for if he continues going about things like this."

"Like what?" Tim asks, stepping closer. "What's Danny looking for?"

The old woman's dark eyes chill down his spine as she gazes at him. "Death."

In the corner of Tim's eye, a man sitting at a chess set nods his head. He decides it's a good time to end his daily undercover work. Tim leaves, strutting with less grace as his mind recounts everything he knows about Mr. Flavor.

He is unaware of the person watching him from the alley, eyes tracing the lovely mane of chestnut hair. The grin that blooms over their face is nothing else but hungry.

#dcxdpdabbles #dcxdp crossover #Mr.Flavor #Part 2 #Tim's pov #Danny is really weird #a true Willy Wonka #Tim is on a case #And Danny is still trying to force his other form #Picking fights with ghosts should work #Not sure if I'll make this Dead Tired or gen yet #Hope I made the haunting a little creepy

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eff-plays · 1 year

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The way Astarion reacts depending on how you compliment him in the mirror scene (I have no interest in insulting him so I won't be covering that here, have fun though!) drives me fucking insane.

"I want to know what the world sees when it looks at me. What you see."

And you get two types of responses. First, your choices for compliments are

Strong, piercing eyes.

The creases when you laugh.

Pick the first, and he's pleased. "Go on," he says, sounding very seductive. You're giving him exactly what he wants, and he's encouraging it.

Pick the second, and he gets upset. He's an eternally young vampire, not your doting grandmother! You can do better than that. Even if you meant it as a compliment (I know my Tav definitely did), he doesn't seem to take it that way.

Your second options are

That dangerous smile.

The way your hair curls around your ears.

Once again, the first one pleases him, and he even praises your efforts. Very good. Now finish the scene and tell him he's beautiful.

But if you say the second, he gets exasperated. This is meant to be flattery, not poetry. Just tell him he's beautiful and we can call it a day, he says with a dismissive wave of his hand. He doesn't need to hear this crap, just tell him what he wants and fuck off.

Of course, it doesn't matter how you get to this point, and every dialogue option at the end of the scene nets you the same amount of approval. If you call him beautiful, it's +1. Call someone else beautiful, it's +1. If you ask whether he just wants shallow praise (aka don't call him beautiful), you get +1. So this is me pulling this out of my ass I guess.

I always choose to call him beautiful becuase 1) he is and 2) my Tav thinks so too and would oblige him if he asked for it that directly.

But I am obsessed with the different routes you can take to get to this point and what they imply.

Strong, piercing eyes and dangerous smile pleases him more outwardly, but doesn't actually affect the outcome. He's satisfied and confident with these compliments. They confirm what he's trying to project into the world, what he aspires to have and to be.

The creases when he laughs? The hair curling around his ears? Those are things he can't control, can't use against someone else. But he asked to be seen, and if this is what Tav sees, then what does that mean for him?

Why are they complimenting his laugh lines? Why are they speaking poetry at him? Why are they seeing things he has no control over, and why are they revealing them to him?

He doesn't want shallow praise. Questioning this nets approval, and giving it to him doesn't increase approval. What he wants is assurance that what he's trying to be is what the world sees, that he's in control.

And if you actually act as a mirror, point out the things unique to him that you see, he gets uncomfortable, because you're showing a reflection of someone he thinks he's not, of someone he has no control over. And that's scary, even if it's supposedly complimentary.

Because what's scarier than losing control?

But then, compared to how genuinely upset he seems when you insult him (I looked these up on YT for context), the laugh lines and hair curls are still accepted as compliments. So what does he think when Tav says these things?

They see past his piercing eyes and dangerous smile. They see something else that they like even more, things he's not aware of or doesn't appreciate as much. What does that feel like, to cultivate such a perfect image of oneself for the purposes of seducing and tricking others, and then be stumped when someone walks past all that and points out something entirely different that they noticed and found endearing?

Do you do him a favor, and tell him you see only what he wants to be? Or do you speak the truth, and show him what he actually is? Which one is better? Which one is worse?

#i have my own headcanons of course and this is influenced by those #but i just ... AUGH the mirror scene!!!#bg3 #bg3 meta #astarion #baldur's gate 3 #long post #also 'strong piercing eyes' lmao #sad wet puppy eyes more like #also he says he feels seen with tav later on like!! AUGH #DO YOU SEE HIS WANT FOR CONTROL!! OR DO YOU SEE HIS NEED FOR RECOGNITION!! WHICH ONE DO YOU ENFORCE!!

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girlokwhatever · 5 months

Text

late nights,,

paige bueckers x fem!reader

“paige move. my arm fell asleep.”

you can see her dimly from the streetlights shining through the window, not missing the way she rolls her eyes. you know she heard you, yet chooses to pretend like she didn’t. at her response, or lack thereof, you roll your eyes as well.

“paige i literally saw you roll your eyes..” when she doesn’t answer again, you start pushing on her shoulder in attempt to break your arm free. you catch a glimpse of the time on her bedside table,

1:33 am.

your girlfriend starts to groan, not happy with the new method. instead of sitting up like you want her to, she just rolls on top of you. you let out a huff at her weight fully resting on the entirety of your body. paige is a solid few inches taller than you and very, very muscular, which only adds to her weight. though you’re always happy to be close to her, her antics weren’t amusing.

“aw thanks paigey, now i just can’t breathe.”

“you’re welcome honey.”

she lifts her head, probably just so you can see the smug grin on her face. she pecks your lips and puts her head right back down into the crevice between your neck and shoulder.

you begin to feel the pins and needles in your arms from the new blood flow. it only makes you wince, and as if all the stars aligned for you tonight, paige decides to roll back to her previous spot. right on top of your arm.

“paige! get off or i swear-“ she huffs and sits up, side-eyeing you from her position.

though she’s getting on your absolute last nerve, she does look beautiful. her black sports bra and pajama pants, hair in a bun, and her skin glowing so nice in the orange from the streetlight outside.

“why do you hate me?” her tone is laced with attitude, fronting a persona you and kk like to call “snarky and sassy.” and boy, does she live up to the name.

“i don’t hate you paige.”

“oh really? but you don’t want to cuddle me”

“i do, c’mere. you were just-“ when she lays back down, intertwining your bodies together, you feel the pressure of her knee against your crotch. you don’t know if she did it on purpose or not, but it makes your face grow hot and you thank the lord above you’re facing away from the light. if she saw, she’d definitely tease you about it.

“um.. baby..”

“hm?” you feel her breath hot against your neck, which only adds to your new found body heat.

“your leg is in my vagina right now.”

“s’okay.”

“alright. just jam your knee into my crotch. it’s fine.” she lets out a loud huff, sitting up again. even through her huff, you don’t miss the way her stomach growls.

“hey babe?”

“yes paige?” you already know what she’s gonna say, and you also know how you’re going to respond. she’s interrupted your sleep for too long.

“i’m really hungry-“

“i’m not getting up.”

she stops for a minute, contemplating her options. she stands up, and for a second you believe she might just let you sleep,

but no.

she circles to the end of the bed, grabbing your feet and yanking you towards her. without hesitation, she wraps her arms around your back and lifts you up. you know your fate now, so you opt for wrapping your legs around her and accepting it.

“’m takin you with me.”

she carries you with ease through the darkness and into the kitchen. setting you down on the counter, she moves to the freezer and grabs the box of frozen sausage biscuits. she plops two on a plate and into the microwave and then quickly returns to the space between your parted legs.

“y’know.. i could’ve eaten you instead and we wouldn’t’ve had to get up” she says it with a smug little smirk, the one she has when she knows what she’s doing. she knows the affect she has on you.

her hands are on your thighs now, inching up under her shirt that you’re wearing and her fingers trail the line of your underwear. you’re so entrapped by her tactics that you realize you’ve been holding your breath. her whole hand is almost buried in your panties when the microwave beeps. she slowly pulls away and leaves you sitting there, burning alive. surely now she can see you blushing.

she sets the plate down beside you on the counter once she returns. still smirking, she runs her hands up your sides and they settle on your hips, pulling you closer to her and towards the edge of the counter. her fingers trace shapes on you, you think she’s drawing hearts but you’re honestly too tired to know.

she thinks to herself how beautiful you are and how lucky she is to have you. your skin is soft under her fingertips and she admires the scent of your body wash. she loves everything about you, can’t ever get enough. her skin tingles when you wrap your hands around her neck, playing with the loose hairs on the back of her neck.

she’s so entranced by you she almost forgets the biscuits growing cold. she motions the plate to you, a silent question ‘do you want one?’ but you shake your head no. deep down she’s sorry for making you lose sleep, but she remembers if she didn’t then she wouldn’t get to see you like this, so the thought leaves as quickly as it came.

when shes washing her plate, she almost misses your little “love you.”

her heart pounds, her stomach flutters, and she swears no one has ever made her feel this way before. she wants to crawl under your skin so she never has to be without you.

“i love you too”

now she’s carrying you back to bed, tucking you in and fighting the urge to keep you awake so she can hear your voice all night. but you’re both tired now, so there’s no point.

your back is facing her and she pulls you into her chest, wrapping her arms around you so she knows you’re safe. and you are. with paige you’ll always be safe. the last thing you remember before drifting off is her lips kissing behind your ear and her nose nuzzling into your hair.

“goodnight pretty girl.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:**ੈ✩‧₊˚☽｡⋆🀥⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

FIRST FIC WHATTTT

you know i had to hop on the paige train

i hope it’s bearable

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #uconn huskies #uconn wbb #paige buckets

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mywritersmind · 2 days

Text

TOUCH ME - LN4

summary : y/n shows her affection through hugs, kisses, and just plain touching. lando is sad when he realizes that she does this with everyone but him.

listen up : no warnings!! cuteness!! singapore win!

word count : 747

⋆｡‧˚⋆

It had been bothering him for months. Lando noticed when he and Y/n started becoming friends. After a long period of not liking each other, the two finally agreed to put their differences aside because of all their mutual friends.

Their mutual friends started becoming the issue for Lando.

She touches everyone. Not in a weird way, she just shows affection through touch… Through touching anyone but him.

Lando watches her in his drivers room, she’s drawing on the small whiteboard; a tiny lando and a tiny y/n in the corner.

“Why do you touch everyone?” He asks out of nowhere, she turns back slightly, giving him a look before turning back to the board.

“My love language is touch… I guess? At least that’s what people tell me.” She shrugs, coming to the end of the drawing.

“But you don’t touch me.” This makes her pause for a moment before finishing off the drawing and turning back around to face the man.

He's sitting on his drivers bed, race suit unzipped half way and water bottle in hand.

“You want me to touch you?” she raises a brow, teasing him a bit.

He looks down at his water, fiddling with the straw, “I just mean- we’re friends, right? You seem to kiss and hug everyone except for me.”

This makes her more uncomfortable, she slips her hands in her pockets and shrugs, “I don’t mean to not. I guess it’s just different with you.”

“How am I different from Oscar or Charles?” He looks up at her again, his eyes so bright, “They both have girlfriends and you don’t seem bothered.”

Y/n laughs, not thinking before speaking, “Yeah because I’m not into them like that.”

Lando’s eyes widen a bit, “But- you’re into me… like that?” Y/n decides there is two options,

1. Confess her feelings for Lando, ruining all the progress they’ve made to have a good and comfortable friendship while simultaneously risking rejection from someone she really cares about.

2. Lie.

Two seems safer.

“Of course not.” she shakes her head.

Lando doesn’t believe her, or he just doesn’t want to believe her, “So why don’t you touch me? Even after I won in Zandvoort you didn’t hug me.” she hadn't realized how much this had hurt him. She was simply thinking about the hundreds of cameras facing them and how she was already blushing.

Someone knocks on the door then, calling out, “Lando, Warm up starting now.” He swallows, looking up at Y/n.

“I��ll go.” She says quietly, wondering how everything so quickly went south, “Good Luck, Lan.”

⋆｡‧˚⋆

Y/n watched the race with Max, on the edge of her seat and sweating. The moment Lando crossed the finish line, a grin was permanently planted onto her face.

After every interview, the podium, a shower, and change of clothes, he walked out to the track where Y/n sat.

She jumped up and hugged him.

“You’re so fucking amazing.” Lando’s heart skipped a beat.

“Enjoy the race?” He smiles as she pulls away, her hands joining and clapping.

“Duh! Everyone else was all boring and whatever but you did so well! Twenty seconds ahead- shit!” even though he was in the race and just had a thirty minute meeting about it, he could listen to her talk about it for hours. “And Lan, about before- I really didn’t mean to hurt you it’s just different and I don’t know why but I swear it’s not to be mean! You’re my friend and-”

“Just friend?” Lando stops her immediately.

She looks up at him, “Well… I always thought-”

“I fancy you. I have for a while.” He just spits it out, his hands on her elbows as she stares blankly at him.

She blinks, “You’re not taking the piss are you because I swear!” He kisses her then.

She’s laughing against him as he pulls her closer, touching her softly and savoring it.

“I like you too.” She blushes. “And fuck you for not telling me sooner!”

He scoffs, “You could have as well! Plus you’re so damn mysterious I couldn’t tell if I should be flattered at your yelling or scared.”

She laughs, kissing his cheek before resting her head on his chest.

He puts his arms around her, his heart beating rapidly, “If you touch your friends like that then i’m damn excited to see how you treat your boyfriend.”

#fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #lando norris #lando norris fanfic #f1 imagine #lando x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #lando imagine #f1 fic

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yuujispinkhair · 4 days

Text

I WANNA BE YOUR ENDGAME – Chapter 05

🏒❤️ A Hockey Romance feat. modern!Sukuna

Pairing: HockeyPlayer!Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: College AU, Hockey AU, fluff + smut Playlist: I wanna be your Endgame Word Count: 5k Warnings: 18+, smut, cigarettes. Fuckbuddies to lovers. Reader is a creative writing student. Sukuna is an ice hockey player + history student. This story will have approximately 10 chapters. Minors don't interact. Header by me. Divider @/benkeibear

MASTERLIST

You spend the Sunday in bed, trying to watch a TV show to shut up your mind, which keeps coming up with all too vivid images of what Sukuna and you did in the locker room. But you can't focus on the show. Instead, your gaze wanders distractedly through your room and brushes over the white, too-large hoodie that is draped over the backrest of your chair. Sukuna's hoodie. And you are mentally back where you started: In the locker room on Sukuna's lap.

You groan and bury your face in your hands. You will have to go to your classes again tomorrow, which means there is a high chance you will bump into a certain pink-haired, tattooed hockey player. But you have no idea how to act around Sukuna after this! Hopefully, you won't run into him, at least for a few days!

But of course, it doesn't work like that. You haven't even started your first class of the week before you see Sukuna again. He is leaning against one of the vending machines in the hallway that leads to your creative writing class, talking to one of his teammates while looking gorgeous as always, with his pink hair slicked back, tight black jeans that accentuate his muscular thighs, and a white team hoodie, just like the one that is waiting for you in your room.

You duck behind a large plant, groaning inwardly at how insane you must look to everyone around you. But you simply cannot face Sukuna right now! Just one look at him brings back the memories of those firm muscles under your fingers and how those large, calloused hands trailed all over your skin, and how good that thick cock felt inside you.

You make a strangled noise as you try to determine whether Sukuna already saw you or whether you can still turn around and run the other way. You are about to give in to the second option. But it's already too late.

"Hey, princess!"

You draw in a sharp breath as you clutch your books to your chest and slowly turn around again. Sukuna is casually strolling over to you, his hands shoved into the pockets of his black jeans, his typical arrogant smirk on his handsome, tattooed face.

You exhale slowly, lifting your head and straightening your shoulders, trying to will your embarrassment away as Sukuna stops in front of you.

Act cool, act cool, act cool!

"Hey, Ice Prince."

Sukuna's eyes sparkle in amusement, and he laughs that sexy low laugh and runs a tattooed hand through his pink hair as he cocks his head,

"Prince? I'd rather think I am the Ice King. But of course, I can be anything you want, princess."

Suddenly, he is so close to you again, towering over you, tall and big, and your back bumps against the wall behind you. Your heart is racing wildly as you look at Sukuna. At his lips precisely. Lips that lift in that sexy, rude smirk. Lips that you know feel so hot and soft against yours when they kiss you. Your breath hitches. And Sukuna laughs softly.

He leans down, his sexy cologne filling your nose, and his warm breath is on your neck when he whispers in your ear,

"Do I make you nervous?"

You grit your teeth and bring a hand up to push weakly against his broad chest, not really trying to push him away (not that you could move him an inch anyway), but in a helpless attempt to cover up your embarrassment. Why does he have to be like this? Why isn't he nervous, too? You shake your head, eyes burning into Sukuna's,

"No, of course not!"

But Sukuna huffs, leaning even closer, his voice full of smug amusement,

"Liar."

He smirks at you, his maroon eyes filled with a far too knowing look, when he adds in a teasing voice,

"Why do you act so flustered then? Like a scared little bunny. Is it maybe because you can't stop thinking about what we did in the locker room? How you bounced on my cock and how my cum was dripping down your hand and..."

You make a squeaking sound and reach up to press your hand over Sukuna's mouth to shut him up. And he laughs. You feel his lips move against your palm, feel his smirk, and then something warm and wet.

You jump, and your gaze snaps to Sukuna's eyes. He is staring right at you, a teasing, amused spark in his eyes while he is licking your palm.

There's another slow, teasing flick of his tongue, and much to your horror, it sends bolts of electricity and desire through you, making you press your thighs together involuntarily. But at least you finally come to your senses and quickly pull your hand away, wiping it on your jeans while you roll your eyes at Sukuna.

"Stop it!"

Sukuna grins broadly at you, his tattooed face still full of mischief, but at least he lowers his voice when he says,

"It's fine, princess. I enjoyed our little locker room fuck, too."

You restrain yourself from pressing your hand on his mouth again, and Sukuna adds smoothly,

"How about we make this a regular thing? It doesn't have to be exclusive to the locker room. We could also use a bed next time, or a shower, or anywhere else you like. You and I get along, and the sex is good, so why not have some fun together? It doesn't have to be a big deal. What do you say?"

You stare at him, your pulse racing and your head spinning at his offer, unable to form a response.

Sukuna smirks and touches your shoulder, letting his large hand trail down your arm until he reaches the pocket of your cardigan, where your phone is sitting. Sukuna pulls it out and holds it out to you,

"Unlock it."

You do as he says as if on autopilot and watch as Sukuna types in his number before handing the phone back to you. He takes a step away from you, slinging his backpack casually over one broad shoulder, and jerks his chin at you,

"Think about my offer, princess, and hit me up if you crave a little fun in your life."

He winks at you before he turns around and strolls away, leaving you standing there leaning bonelessly against the wall with your heart beating up to your throat and your mind whirling.

Did Sukuna just offer me a fuck-buddies arrangement?

This new development turns you into a distracted mess for the rest of the day. You get into trouble with your grumpy professor once again when you fail to reply to her question because your mind is too occupied thinking about Sukuna and what to do about this whole arrangement he is offering you.

You drop your books and forget your jacket and curse yourself for being such a flustered idiot just because some hot hockey boy blessed you with the best dick of your life and is asking for a repeat!

Get a grip!

But even when you are back in your dorm, you can't stop obsessing over this whole situation with Sukuna. You keep playing with your phone, unlocking it to stare at the new contact.

Sukuna 🏒👑

Your lips twitch when you see the hockey stick and crown emoji next to his name.

Your fingers hover over the message icon several times, but you always lock your screen again before you can write anything.

You throw your phone onto your bed with a heavy sigh. You are too flustered and too shy to text Sukuna and agree to whatever it is he is offering. But at the same time, there's this excited tingle in your veins that screams at you to text him and just enjoy that star player dick.

Isn't this the kind of exciting thing you dreamed about happening to you when coming to this college? And now you get it presented to you on a silver platter, but you are too chicken to take it?

You groan and bury your burning face in your hands. Maybe you can make a decision tomorrow. You need some time to think, or rather overthink.

You manage to avoid Sukuna the whole next day during classes, feeling like a complete fool with the way you sneak through the hallways, always checking if you see his pink hair somewhere. Your lunchtime is spent in your classic literature classroom, munching on some sandwich you hastily prepared this morning. Hiding away like a coward.

You feel relieved when your last class of the day is over. Now you just have to head to the library to get some research material for a new assignment, and then you can go back to the safety of your dorm, where you can lock yourself in your room and obsess in peace over a phone contact with a hockey stick and a crown.

You roll your eyes at yourself, and the librarian tells you to stop giving her such mean looks. Your eyes widen, and you hastily apologize, fleeing towards the section she told you the book you are looking for is.

The old floorboards creak beneath your feet, the smell of old books fills your nostrils, and you feel at least part of the familiar comfort the library always offers you. You scan the bookshelves, looking for the number the librarian gave you. And sigh in annoyance when you finally spot the title you were looking for.

Of course, it has to be on one of the higher shelves, and you can't see a ladder anywhere! You get on your tiptoes, bracing yourself on the shelf with one hand while you try to reach the book you want. You curse softly when your fingertips barely manage to graze the wooden shelf on which the book is standing.

And suddenly a familiar smug, low voice speaks up behind you,

"Need help, princess?"

You whip your head around, looking over your shoulder at the very person you have been avoiding all day. He has that typical, lazy smirk on his tattooed face, and there's an amused glint in his maroon eyes.

"Sukuna?"

You blink at him in surprise, and Sukuna's grin grows broader.

He steps closer, closing the distance between you so his body presses lightly against your back, making your heart race like crazy. Even if you wanted to, you wouldn't be able to run from him anymore with the way you are trapped between the bookshelf and Sukuna's tall, muscular body. You gulp hard, pulse fluttering at the feeling of Sukuna pressed against you and the enticing smell of his cologne and the cigarette smoke on his clothes filling your nose.

Sukuna reaches above your head, effortlessly plucking the book from the shelf.

He doesn't pull away immediately but stays right there, pressed lightly against you, his buff body caging you in while his warm breath brushes over your earlobe. His velvety voice has dropped to a low, seductive murmur that makes goosebumps appear on your arms,

"I haven't seen you all day. Where were you hiding, princess?"

You huff, trying to sound casual, but you cringe inwardly when you hear how breathy your voice comes out,

"What do you mean? I wasn't hiding."

Sukuna finally steps away, and you let out a breath and turn around to look at him. He is holding the book you need in his large hand, and you reach for it, but you see a shit-eating grin spread over Sukuna's face, and even as you reach out, you know it means trouble.

And, of course, right before you can grab the book, Sukuna lifts his arm above his head, letting your book dangle from his long tattooed fingers out of reach for you.

"Uh uh, not so fast."

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms in front of your chest,

"What are you doing? Give me the book!"

Sukuna laughs softly, smirking at you in that rude and sexy way that infuriates you and turns you on at the same time. He shakes his head and drawls in a low, amused voice,

"I'll give you your book if you promise to see me tonight. My dorm, 8 p.m. We can just talk if you want. Or we can do more than that. It's your choice, princess."

Heat throbs between your thighs as your mind provides you with an image of the two of you on Sukuna's bed, naked bodies moving rhythmically against each other. Your hands trailing over Sukuna's smooth tattooed skin, your fingers feeling up his buff muscles... You draw in a sharp breath and look up at him with big eyes and a face that feels way too hot.

"I..."

Sukuna laughs softly, his cat-like eyes gazing deeply into yours, completely shameless, far too arrogant, but damn, it drives you crazy in a very good way. One corner of his lips lifts in that sexy smirk, and he cocks his head,

"Is that a yes?"

It's not fair how charming and sexy he looks and how he is tempting you with a good time. The kind of good time you really want. The thought of meeting him again, knowing what it will lead to, still makes you flustered and feel like some shy little virgin, but you really like what he is offering you. And so you nod and mutter a soft,

"Y.. yes."

And Sukuna looks so pleased.

"Hmm, smart girl."

He leans down, his grin downright devilish now, and his breath brushes over your neck, making your skin tingle everywhere. And it gets even worse when Sukuna's tongue darts out and licks a slow, wet trail up your neck while you feel his rude smirk against your skin.

You screech and push at his broad chest,

"Hey! Don't drool on me!"

But you can't hide how playful and amused your voice sounds. You shake your head and laugh breathlessly as you look up at Sukuna's grinning face and he laughs and pulls away. He lowers his hand, holding the book out for you to take.

You quickly snatch it from his tattooed fingers. But Sukuna is fast. It must be his hockey-player-reflexes. He manages to grab your hand before you can pull away, holding onto it while his maroon eyes gaze deeply into yours.

"8 p.m. at my dorm. Don't keep me waiting, princess."

He doesn't wait for an answer but lets go of you, leaving you standing in the middle of the library with wobbly knees and wide eyes.

You are a nervous, excited, giggly mess when you make your way over campus and to Sukuna's dorm.

You feel embarrassed and exposed when you slip through the front door of the large dorm building, thinking that everyone who sees you must know exactly what you are up to. As if you are holding a blinking red sign that reads, "I am going to have sex with your star player."

But at the same time, your veins are singing with excitement. You feel almost high. You are meeting a super hot hockey player/the resident bad boy to get into a fuckbuddy arrangement with him or something like that! It's the kind of crazy thing you would have never thought you would ever get to experience.

You, who were always too scared, too anxious, too careful to experience anything exciting. But somehow, Sukuna made that whole cardhouse tumble down so easily, and suddenly, you feel so light, with your pulse racing and your whole body buzzing.

Your heart is pounding wildly in your chest when you reach the Itadori twins' apartment. You need a moment before you finally make up the courage to lift your hand and knock on the door. The seconds tick away, and your breath comes out in nervous, quick huffs as you wait for Sukuna to let you in.

Finally, the door swings open, and Sukuna stands in the doorway in low-hanging grey sweatpants, a black t-shirt, and that damn boyish smirk on his handsome face.

"Hey, my lucky charm."

He waves you inside, and you slip off your shoes and follow Sukuna into the apartment. It's bigger than the one you and Nobara share, which is probably a bonus the beloved hockey players get. The living area and open kitchen look clean but a bit chaotic, with hockey equipment, weights, and other gym stuff strewn everywhere. A red hoodie is hanging over the backrest of the couch, and various video games and manga are scattered all over the couch table next to several empty protein shake containers.

"Ignore the mess. I just came back from practice and didn't have time to clean. It's not my mess, by the way. My brother can't keep a clean room."

You smile to yourself, thinking that it's kind of cute that big bad hockey star Sukuna apologizes for how his living room looks. But before you can tease him about it, Sukuna already pushes open the door to his bedroom and ushers you inside.

It's surprisingly neat compared to the mess in the shared living area. The first thing you see is Sukuna's bed, which is actually made and suits him really well with the all-black bedding. On the left side of the room is a window and a desk with neatly stacked books. Above it is a shelf with trophies and next to that, a big pinboard with some hockey tactics written in Sukuna's elegant handwriting and a few pictures of Yuuji and Sukuna and an old man with a face shape that looks very similar to Sukuna's and Yuuji's, so you assume it must be their grandpa.

You look curiously around the rest of the room. A flag with the team crest is hanging on the wall behind the bed, and on the right side of the room, you can see a half-opened closet. The clothes you can spot in it are all black, with the exception of some white and red, which you assume must be Tigers merch.

A stack of cigarette packages and some energy drinks sit on a shelf next to a whole array of hair products (cherry flavored, like you already assumed), as well as several big bottles of cologne and a smaller bottle of black nail polish. You smile to yourself.

Vain idiot.

"So, did you think about my offer? About our little arrangement? You okay with it, princess?"

Sukuna's low voice interrupts your nosiness, and you whip around to look at him, feeling flustered again. You shrug and tug nervously on your fingers,

"What does it include exactly?"

Sukuna laughs and shrugs,

"Anything you want. We just have fun."

He has taken a step closer to you, and his low voice is smooth and velvety like a caress. You feel nervous, intimidated, and overwhelmed by the way your mind screams at you: You had sex with him! He was inside you. And you know you want it again. You are in his room. You just have to reach out and touch him!

A shaky laugh comes out of your mouth, but you nod and smile nervously at Sukuna,

"Okay, sounds good."

You gulp hard and lick your lips. They feel too dry suddenly as you look up at Sukuna's tattooed face, too aware of how small the room seems all of a sudden, and how good he smells, and how tall and strong he is. You add shyly,

"So... um, how do we go about this?"

You gesture helplessly at the bed and at Sukuna, suddenly ready to just run from his room and hide away forever. But Sukuna laughs softly and cocks his head, his face softer than usual, as if he feels bad for you.

He puts a hand on your waist.

"No need to be so nervous, princess. It's easy. Just come here, and I assure you, you will know what to do. It worked really fine the last time, don't you agree? Our chemistry is good."

He is right.

The moment Sukuna wraps an arm around you and pulls you against him, it's really easy.

Your hands automatically wrap around his neck, and you get on your tiptoes, pressing your body against Sukuna's, sighing when you feel his warm, firm body against yours. Your lips crash into his, kissing him hard as if to make up for your shyness a moment ago. And Sukuna kisses you back, his tongue licking hungrily into your mouth, both of you instantly overcome with the same craving you felt in the locker room.

Sukuna's large, warm hands are on your hips, steering you to his bed, while your lips trail from his mouth down his jaw, kissing his sexy tattoos before they close around his Adam's apple and suck on it, smiling when you hear the soft growl coming from Sukuna.

You tumble onto Sukuna's bed, and everything feels completely natural. As if you have never done anything other than make out with Sukuna. It's as easy as breathing.

Your hands slip so naturally under Sukuna's t-shirt and explore his abs and pecs before you tug on the soft cotton shirt, and Sukuna helps you pull it off.

It's the most natural thing ever to lift your arms above your head when Sukuna tells you to do so, letting him undress you too, pulling off your shirt, and then opening your bra expertly with one hand. He lets your bra drop to the floor before he replaces it with his large tattooed hands, cupping your tits and brushing his thumbs over your hardened nipples while his lips find yours in a sloppy, wet, open-mouthed tongue kiss.

From that moment on, the only thing you know are passionate, wet kisses and wandering hands, tearing at each other's clothes until you are both naked and writhing against each other on Sukuna's bed. You don't have to think. You just have to feel. And it's really as easy as he said. No shame, no worries, just pleasure.

Soon you are on all fours, your ass up, your face pressed into Sukuna's pillow, which smells so intoxicatingly like him. And you mewl loudly into that pillow because Sukuna dicks you down so good that you feel like you will melt.

He is kneeling behind you, one foot placed on the mattress, his large, strong hands on your hips as he takes you from behind, fucking you hard and fast and so deep. Dominant, in control, and knowing exactly how to fuck you right.

His strong hands hold your hips tightly, pulling you closer again anytime you try to get away when you think the pleasure becomes too much. But Sukuna won't have it and just holds you in place while his sexy, low voice tells you,

"Stay here, princess. I'm gonna make you feel so fucking good. Just be my good girl and let go. You can be as messy and loud in my bed as you want."

His words drag a loud, desperate cry from your lips as Sukuna's hips hump against your ass and your swollen pussy, fucking his thick cock deep into you, hitting your sweet spot in a maddeningly delicious rhythm.

You feel tears run down your cheeks from how good you are getting fucked, and you do as Sukuna says. You relax and let him take full control.

You are a babbling, sobbing mess, but it's just like Sukuna said, you know, here with him, you don't have to be embarrassed or shy. You eagerly lift your ass, pushing back against Sukuna's body, taking his thick cock deeper, begging him for more, whining loudly anytime his thick mushroom head hits your sweet spot.

And Sukuna laughs and moans, and it's so sexy that it makes your pussy clench around his gorgeous, talented cock, making him groan that sexy breathless "fuuuck" that drives you absolutely wild.

The way Sukuna fucks you with those deep, hard strokes makes you almost delirious. His gorgeous cock is giving you such a fluttery feeling in your stomach and in your pussy, growing more blissful every moment.

You let out a high-pitched squeal when you cum, muffling the noise by pressing your face deeper into Sukuna's pillow. And Sukuna fucks you through it, groaning in that sexy low voice,

"Fuck yeah, princess. Cum on my fucking cock!"

Your breath hitches, and you scream and kick your legs, cumming so hard and intense that you think you will lose your mind.

And Sukuna groans and grabs your wrists with his large rough hands, keeping them in place as he pushes you down on the bed with his heavy body, mounting you, fucking you into the mattress. He snaps his hips faster, fucking his twitching cock into you at a maddening pace that makes the headboard of the bed bang loudly against the wall.

You whimper needily at the feeling of Sukuna's heavy weight on top of you and the switch of position it brings with it. The earlier doggy turned into a deep, intense prone bone that makes Sukuna's cock push even deeper into your sensitive pussy.

One of Sukuna's large hands grabs your chin roughly, turning your head to the side so he can give you nasty deep tongue kisses while he fucks you with those deep, intense strokes that grow harder and become more erratic as he nears his orgasm.

You mewl under him when you hear him growl and feel him push his cock deep inside you. And then Sukuna stills his movements, cumming inside you, fucking his cum into the condom he put on this time.

His hand around your wrists squeezes them tightly. His breath is loud and harsh, and a low, sexy moan falls from his lips only centimeters from your lips before Sukuna kisses you again.

A breathless laugh escapes his lips, and you feel his smirk against your mouth as Sukuna starts to move again, slow, shallow thrusts, fucking his whole orgasm into you while you mewl softly beneath him and squeeze your pussy around him.

With a last, teasing flick of his tongue, Sukuna pulls away.

He rolls off you and lets his heavy body fall onto the mattress next to you, a broad, satisfied grin on his tattooed face and a low laugh falling from his lips.

One of his large hands lands on your naked ass giving it a squeeze, and then his tattooed fingers trail slowly up and down your thigh, caressing it as if you are a beloved pet he is pleased with.

You still feel dazed when Sukuna gets up after a moment, shamelessly walking around his room completely naked, throwing the condom into the trash bin before he bends down to pick up his black boxer briefs from his bedroom floor.

He pulls them up lazily with one tattooed hand as he walks over to his desk, making you lick your lips as you watch his gorgeous muscles flex while he moves. He grabs his cigarettes and a lighter from his desk and opens the window next to it, leaning casually against the window frame as he lights a cigarette and brings it to his lips, inhaling the smoke with a soft little hum.

Sukuna turns his head, looking at you with heavy-lidded maroon eyes and a lazy smirk.

"See, I told you it's easy."

And you laugh and roll on your side, pulling Sukuna's blanket over your naked body, feeling exhilarated and a bit dreamy after such amazing sex.

"Yeah, you were right."

Sukuna smirks, getting that smug expression on his tattooed face again.

"I know. I am always right."

He turns his face to blow his cigarette smoke out the window while you groan in playful annoyance.

You walk out of Sukuna's bedroom fifteen minutes later, after you both got dressed again, and Sukuna showed you the various medals and trophies on the small shelf above his desk and explained what he got them for. It felt less awkward than after your locker room fuck, though it still makes you a bit shy to just talk to him like you are friends after he was balls-deep in you and you cried into his pillow from how good he fucked you.

Sukuna is close behind you, bumping into you when you stop short as your gaze lands on Yuuji.

Sukuna's twin is lounging on the couch in the shared living area, his feet resting on the couch table while he watches TV. Yuuji turns his head to greet you and smiles his big sunshine smile at you, honey eyes wandering from you to his brother and back again.

And you smile back awkwardly, feeling your face get hot again,

"Hey, Yuuji."

How long has he been here? Did he hear you? Does he know what you did in Sukuna's room?

You quickly flee towards the door, but before you can leave, Yuuji laughs happily and says,

"So Kuna found you! He was complaining the whole day because he hadn't seen you. I'm glad you came over!"

You blink and look back over your shoulder just in time to see a protein bar getting thrown at Yuuji's head while Sukuna yells at his brother to shut the fuck up.

And you quickly slip out the door, grinning from ear to ear as you hear the twins bickering. Your steps feel incredibly light as you jog down the staircase, snickering to yourself the whole way to the front door.

I FELT THE FLUTTERY FEELING IN MY STOMACH AND MY PUSSY TOO 😭😭💗💗

Here we are in a fuckbuddies arrangement with our sexy hockey boy ;) Also, big applause to Yuuji for exposing his dear brother. I know you are obsessed with us, Kuna. It's ok, baby 😘

I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Comments and reblogs would be very sweet!

In Chapter 6, Reader and Sukuna have some more fun with each other + also some bonding moments.

Thank you so much for all the love on this story!! It makes me so happy 💗💗

#sukuna x reader #sukuna fluff #sukuna smut #sukuna #sukuna x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk smut #jjk fluff #sukuna x y/n #jjk x y/n #ryomen sukuna #{🏒❤️} hockey au

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