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suguae · 7 months

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Haunted

part one

I tried my best to tag as many people!

The long awaited part two! I'm so sorry if this doesn't live up to your guys expectations! I really felt like so much people were waiting for a part two and I've been so busy, but hopefully you all enjoy!

You were like a shot of espresso, a ray of sunlight and one would be so lucky just to even be in your presence.

That's how he saw it at least. The gummy smile that was glued on your face as you listened to Megumi's silly stories he'd make up just to entertain you.

Wherever you stepped foot, the mood would lighten drastically.

He knew that because if you were here with him right now, Megumi wouldn't be crying his heart out begging his dad to call you. Toji wouldn't be struggling to fall asleep as he looked at your side of the bed imagining you there. He wouldn't be crossing his fingers hoping that every notification on his phone would be you.

"The princess and prince got married and lived happily ever after." You smiled as Megumi watched you close the book in awe. His cheeks were painted with a light pink, "You and Daddy?" You couldn't help but giggle at cute sleepy Megumi.

"No..." You whispered, noticing his eyes getting heavy.

Toji's eyes shifted towards you and his baby boy on the shared bed, Megumi of course having one of his fits and you never being able to say no to him. His heart felt heavy, hearing the cold truth slip from your mouth.

"You've been out of it Fushiguro..."

There he was back to reality in his cold—big office. Standing in front of him was Shiu, his best and his closest employee. "Zenin." Toji corrected which caught Shiu by surprise. Toji was proud to have his wife's last name, yet here he is using his last name.

No wedding ring? Shiu thought to himself, looking at Toji’s empty fingers. But in fact his fingers were not empty, because there sat the dark purple promise ring you had gotten him for your third year anniversary. Shiu smiled to himself, he was moving on—for the better.

“You and Y/n are doing better, I guess?” He sighs, taking a couple steps towards his boss’s desk and plopping himself on the chair in front of him. His smile fading hearing the vague no, coming from his boss.

“She left actually, but it’s better this way.”

“Is it?”

“No, it’s not.” You smiled as the soft yellow light from the candle illuminated onto your face. How Toji’s heart melted when he saw that little sparkle in your eyes. “I actually love kids.” Your eyes shifted to the little stroller after Toji mentioned how stupid it was to try to go on dates as he had a whole baby.

“It’s been rough ever since my wife passed.”

He remembers that look on your face when he told you how recently his wife had passed. It was the first date, he brought his son and mentioned his dead wife. There was no way he would ever see you again after that. But he was wrong because you always found your way back.

“Daddy—gumi hungry!” The little boy pouted as Toji noticed the burning smell of the food. It had been way too much now, spacing out every chance he had just to think about you.

Where are you?

Are you okay?

He wonders if you’re doing better now that you left him.

Probably, right?

Wrong.

“You need to clean this place up, it’s a mess y/n.” Your mom says entering your small apartment. The tiny cans of energy drinks scattered around the place, tissues and a pile of blankets on the couch.

She sighed watching your frail body sit up from the couch, her arm wrapped around your body and she placed small kisses on your forehead.

“It’s gonna take a while to get back on his feet. When your father passed away, it took years for me to officially realize that he was gone y/n.”

That’s what hurt the most, how long was Toji willing to take to realize? What if he forgets about you?

“Go back to your daily life, my baby he will call you when he’s ready. I see the love in his eyes.” She smiled once more before bringing you closer in her embrace.

This is what you needed.

The embrace of someone else’s while your life was slowly changing.

His thumb hovered over your contact. His hands shaking as the tears swell in his eyes. It’s been well over six months since the break up.

Toji was more than ready.

He was just afraid now, afraid of the fact that the women he had a past with moved on and would reject his return.

His thumb firmly pressing the dial button as he brings his phone up towards his ear. He could feel his throat closing and his stomach churning.

“Hello?”

<- previous next part ->

taglist: @ssc7514@utarts@my1guilty1pleasures@bangchansthings@nxxun-blog@sidelnes@khaleesihavilliard@wr4inn@r0ckst4rjk@iwishigotswallowed@ryumurin@traacy-lin@aikori6@slowlyswimmingmoon@mikyapixie@dreamlessnight@maliakealoha

#rosipuree #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x y/n #angst #jjk angst #fushiguro toji #toji fushiguro #jjk toji #toji x reader #fushiguro #toji x you

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peachesofteal · 4 months

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Through Me (The Flood) - secret baby fic Simon Riley / female reader requested by multiple: doctor visit

The pediatrician's office is very bright.

Bright walls, bright furniture, bright toys. The hallway is painted a bright blue, dotted with wispy, spongey clouds, spiraling in patterns from floor to ceiling.

The exam room is not much better. It's yellow. Supposed to be soothing, you tell him. It's anything but.

The bright colors unsettle him, but he shoves it down. Swallows the gnawing anxiety brewing in the back of his mind, forces away the spiral attempting to swallow him whole. He falls back on what gives him comfort, what allows him to sleep at night, what makes him feel whole. The only one who doesn't make him feel torn to shreds. The one who can touch his bare skin without making him shake. You.

You're nervous too. It started when you got the baby undressed, and has only gone downhill from there. He can see it in the way you pace back and forth in the room, holding Ry to your chest, bouncing him, rubbing his back. There's dread scrawled into your expression, grim unease radiating from your bones.

"C'mere mama." He reaches, pulling your forearm and tugging you close, resting his chin on top of your head. You relax, but barely. "Everything's going to be alright."

"He hates shots."

"He's a baby, course he does. Can't blame 'im. Huh bub?" He strokes Orion's chubby and round cheek, tilting his head to press a kiss to your temple.

Someone knocks on the door, and it creaks open.

"Hi!" A young woman in a white coat smiles at them, giving Simon an odd look before stepping forward. He swallows the acid burning the back of his throat.

"Hey, Dr. Marsh." You greet weakly, face pinched. She says hello, and washes her hands, keeping a stream of chatter until she's seated on a rolling stool with an iPad in her hand.

"How's our big man?"

"Still big." You quip drily, and she laughs, glancing up at Simon. You look at him too, and then your mouth drops into a little o. "Sorry, this is Simon. Orion's dad." She stands, extends her hand. He takes it, careful to not squeeze too tight before letting go and hanging his own rigidly by his side, tense, like he's priming for a fight of some kind.

"I guess we know where he gets his size from." Fingers tap across the screen, and then she sets it on the examination table. "So, how is it going?"

"Fine, good, I think. He's still feeding every three hours. I feel like he's gained ten pounds since our last visit." She nods. "I've been trying to pump as much as I can but... there's just... not as much."

"That can happen. If you're still happy with breastfeeding, I don't have any concerns. Of course, if you want to stop, that's more than okay. As long as he's getting what he needs, there's no wrong way to feed him." You nod, rubbing his back. Dr. Marsh asks about any other concerns, and after you say you have none, she reaches for him. "Let's see if our guy is still a ninety nine percenter, huh?" Simon frowns.

"Ninety nine percenter?"

"He's uh, in the ninety nine percentile. Very big."

"Very big, and very tall." Dr. Marsh says from over her shoulder, where she's now got Orion on the baby scale. "Born at what mum, four and a half kilograms?" Simon blanches. Bloody hell. You haven't really told him too much about the birth, and he hasn't pushed you on it. Maybe this is why. You don't have a c-section scar, and he winces thinking about you giving birth, naturally. He should have been there. Should have held your hand, told you how amazing you were. How strong. The familiar feeling of regret resurfaces, and he gives you an apologetic look. You shrug with a little smile.

"He looked like a giant in the nursery, next to all the... regular sized babies." Dr. Marsh laughs, but Simon grimaces. Guilt settles in his stomach like a rock.

"Sorry, mama." He apologizes sheepishly, squeezing your hand, and you rub your thumb over his knuckles.

"It's okay, I kinda," your eyes sweep over him from head to toe, "expected it."

"Alright, so," Dr. Marsh brings Ry back over, handing him to you, but Simon intervenes, pulling him into his arms. He worries about your back. She smiles again, types something into the tablet, and then clears her throat, "growth is slowing down."

"Is that bad?" You sound alarmed, and she shakes her head.

"Not bad, considering he's been outperforming in height and weight since he was born. This happens, it's normal, there's nothing to worry about. However, he's still in the nineties. Just shy of eight kilograms."

"What's normal?" He's curious now, wondering how big his son is really, compared to others. He'd even feel proud, if he wasn't worried about the trauma having him may have caused you.

"Fiftieth percentile is around six. Now," she rests her hands on her thighs, and levels a serious look at you. "How are you? Sleep getting any better? Are you keeping up on hydration?" Simon peeks down at you, lips tugged into a firm line.

"He still feeds every three hours, and I'm the source so... not really."

"Any more dizzy spells?" What? His head snaps your direction. Orion gurgles, and he pats his back absentmindedly. Dizzy spells? Why haven't you said anything?

"Uh, not really. Maybe a few."

"Breastfeeding can take a lot out of you. It uses a lot of metabolic energy, so try to make sure you're eating enough and drinking a lot of water. It's normal to feel exhausted or fatigued, but taking care of your nutritional needs will go a long way. I know I sound like a broken record but, I think it will help. You might also try talking to your OB, since you know... I'm only a little human doctor." You swallow.

"Okay." She gives you a serious look, and you nod.

"Alright then, let's move on to everyone's favorite part."

He holds Orion for the entirety of the rest of the visit. He squirms and screams as he gets his shots, crying at the top of his lungs, and Simon closes his eyes at one point to take a deep breath. He's okay. He's safe. They're both safe. They're here.

You take him afterward, lips to the top of his head, eyes closed as you whisper. "Shhh, I know baby, I know. It's over now. All done. You were so brave." Simon's heart aches. It hurts to know you're struggling, that you see yourself as a failure, when it's so blatant that you're anything but. He's going to fix that.

You stop at the reception desk, lingering until the girl behind it gets off the phone. "Um, can we update Orion's emergency contact list? I want his dad to be on there, too." Simon looks down at you, momentarily dumbstruck. Sweet, sweet girl. Sweet little kitten. The receptionist smiles brightly, taking the information he provides, phone number, back up phone number (work cell) and his name.

The two of you head towards the elevator, and you give him a hesitant look as you step inside. "You don't mind right? I didn't want to overstep but... you're his parent too, I thought you might want to be-" You don't get to finish before he's swooping down with a hand at the small of your back and another on the baby's head, slamming his lips to yours so fiercely your breath hitches.

"Mama," he kisses your forehead, and then cups your chin. "You and Orion are my family now. You're it for me, and I'm chuffed you'd think to put me down as an emergency contact." You jerk back at his words, eyes wide. Too much? Too soon? Too strong? He doesn't care. He needs to start easing you into it, getting you used to the new reality, before he's moving you and the baby out of your flat and giving you a new last name.

"Simon." You whisper, but he shakes his head.

"I told you. I wanted you the night we made him, and I still do. You're everything. You're mine. You and our boy." You don't say anything, and the silence kills him until you reach for his hand, interlacing your fingers with his. "An' we're going to have a talk about you getting dizzy and not saying anything to me. Alright?" You gulp.

"Alright."

#grits teeth #these are getting longer #through me (the flood)#peaches writes #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #unedited so mind the mistakes

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predestinatos · 6 months

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you mean everything - MV1 ೀ⋆｡🌷

summary: max needed a wedding date and you were used to being his fake partner.

tags: max verstappen x fem!reader, fake dating, friends to lovers, max is so whipped, fluff, a bit angsty maybe?, mentions of alcohol

word count: 2k

notes: i've been writing (and thinking) so much about max... my period is coming please give me a break i'm sensitive. also would love to get some feedback if possible so i know if it's worth making a series out of this!!!!

"If you want to make it believable at least hold my hand" you half-whispered to Max, who was buttoning his blazer while getting out of the car, you behind him.

"Sorry, I'm not used to this with you" he said chuckling. His sweaty palm held yours tightly, and the feeling of it was odd. Knowing Max for so long meant that these romantic gestures felt almost cringeworthy to you both, and you both had to put up award winning performances every time you played this game.

The game in question being fake-dating. It started as a funny joke where you both thought it would be great to test out the Get A Champagne Bottle For Free At This Restaurant If You Propose theory (which worked, by the way). From then onwards, you used each other as dates whenever asked by annoying family members, creepy coworkers, or just because you felt like lying.

The talking wasn't hard - you both felt comfortable in that part, lying with words coming off almost dangerously natural - but when it came to acting the part, both of you felt awkward, like kids who found relationships absolutely repulsive.

This time, though, the performance would last longer than usual: it was a wedding. Max's friend's wedding. Max could've just gone along, or bring a friend (even you as a friend). Yet he had told his friend, after one too many shots on his Bachelor's Party, and after being chosen as The Guy Who'll Take the Longest to Settle, that he had, in fact, a girlfriend. His friends didn't believe him, so he showed a picture of you two together - a selfie really, nothing much. And they still said they didn't believe it. So here you are.

You couldn't blame him, even if you wanted to. You agreed to use each other as a fake partner for as long as you could in as many situations as required, although when it all started none of you ever thought it would lead to wedding attendances.

So now there you were, Max's hand on yours, entering the small church. His eyes locked with the groom, who waved and called for you to sit near the altar.

"So you ARE real" he said, nervousness laced in his voice even as he tried to lighten the mood himself. You giggled at the irony of it, nodding as you said your congratulations.

"Just wait until the guys see this" he continued gesturing towards the bench where 3 other men around his age sat. Men you had seen before in some Instagram pictures, men you spent the previous night trying to memorize basic information about so you didn't sound suspicious.

Max's hand now fell on your waist almost instinctively - it wasn't instinctively, he told himself once he noticed its positioning. And if it was, it was only because he took this so seriously, almost as a sort of method acting. Sitting down next to his friends, he noticed how all of them seemed surprised at your presence, and something like pride filled his chest. He loved winning, loved being right even if he was lying; but most especially, he loved how jealous other men seemed to be over the fact that he was (at least in their minds) dating you.

He couldn't deny - though he tried, really - that you two looked good together. His rougher features mixed with your softer ones gave you both an aura of near unreachability, which yes, was pretentious of him to think but he thought nevertheless.

The ceremony was quick and endearing, a smile spread across everyone's faces at the shared loved between the bride and the groom. As the crowd clapped, Max leaned into you, "don't tell me you're crying". "I am, just to think that I'll have to keep pretending to date YOU for the next 10 hours" you replied, his mocking smile recognizing the joke.

The reception hall was beautifully decorated with shades of soft green and violet orchids. Max tried not to think about how much it matched the shade of your dress, how you looked like you had come to life from a classical novel. He tried to feel like anyone but Mr. Darcy as you felt so much like Elisabeth Bennett to him.

Sitting down next to him, you found this part easier - mingling and socializing was something you enjoyed more than he did - especially with alcohol in the mix. It's a wedding, you thought; this is what weddings are for.

So you drank the wine with the main course and sipper champagne to celebrate and ordered a few cocktails when it was time to dance and talk - and you felt it on your body almost as much as you felt Max's hand occasionally sitting on your thigh, but not even close to how strongly you felt his thumb caress your skin as he did so. Truth was, he too was drunk; his eyes looked smaller and his cheeks were flushed, and the amount of times he ran a hair through his dirty blonde hair had caused it to look messier. As you looked at him, you felt he never looks as attractive as when he is like this - loose and carefree, his shirt sleeves rolled up and a smile on his face when he notices people laugh at his joke.

"I have to admit I didn't think it was true" his friend said when Max left to go to the bathroom. He looked drunker than the two of you combined, his words hard to decypher, like a riddle. "He's been talking about you for months now and we never saw you for real so we thought you didn't exist" he laughed, and you laughed back before it registered.

"Months?" you asked him, eyebrows furrowed yet attempting to remain composed. You shouldn't have asked it - a supposedly month old girlfriend wouldn't be surprised but you were his fake month old girlfriend and you weren't understanding it anymore.

"Yeah. He talks about you so much all the time I think even we started to date you" he laughed again, yet this time you didn't find the joke so funny. You were frozen in your seat, merely blinking as if trying to put the confusing puzzle together, the pieces not quite fitting the way you thought they would.

A touch on your shoulder unfroze you, almost like magic, like a disney film come to life. You turned around to find the groom, somewhat sober, smiling at you while also looking somewhat concerned. "He's calling for you... And he's also absolutely wasted" he said, pointing to the door of the hall.

"Shit" you cursed, getting up from your seat at a speed you couldn't believe, worry filling your heart, making you forget the conversation you were just having.

Opening the door to the garden outside, you found Max sitting down against the wall, shirt partly unbuttoned and disheveled hair. When he saw you, he grinned, such genuine happiness laced with tipsiness.

"Lightweight" you mocked as you crouched in front of him, trying to balance yourself on your heels, somehow managing it despite your own drunkness.

"You're laughing at my mis- Shit- my misery" his throat bobbed up and down, exaggerating his own agony with a hand on his chest and another on his forehead like a Shakespeare character.

"I have to admit it's quite fun sometimes" you bit your lip as you fixed his hair as best as you could, hands brushing through its soft, blonde mess.

"You're so– you're so sweet" he said, his words dragged and messy. He brought a beer bottle to his lips but you stopped him before any liquid touched them.

"I think that's enough of that for tonight" you grabbed it and placed it behind you, sitting in front of him.

"See now... Now you're being mean" his hand grabbed a strand of your hair and played with it softly as he pouted.

"Okay big boy I'm gonna get you some water" you say, getting up once again, yet his hand stops you, grabbing your wrist tightly.

You looked at him, startled. His drunken state is visible, and it felt frustrating that you had to be the one sobering up for him. The music vibrated through the wall he leaned against, somehow tickling him, making him giggle.

"Stay," he managed to say, eyes half closed, "I'm so glad we're- Fuck things are spinning so much" his hands rushed to his eyes and his head hung low, "Ah fuck. I'm so glad we're datin- Fuck, no, oops-" he continued laughing despite how sick he felt, the whole situation sounding hilarious when filtered through alcohol.

You giggled along with him, mostly because you wanted to see if you could convince him to move, scared he might feel worse or pass out on the cold floor if he doesn't do so. "Fake dating. Fake dating, I know. I knowww" he continued, his words dragged and his finger pointing at you before poking your nose with such innocent sweetness you were taken aback.

"Max" you tried to sound more assertive but found it hard to do so, your own intoxicated state making the situation lighter than what it actually was. Your heart racing was a symptom of it, one you wouldn't feel if sobriety was an option, you thought. Max's eyes wouldn't seem to stare at you differently were he sober as well, and the way he scanned your features, his gaze staying on your lips for longer than expected, wouldn't affect you in the slightest had you not drank some alcohol.

"I like it when you say my name" he looked up at you innocently, pleading, almost.

"Want me to say it again?" you asked, smiling. You complied with these demands because you knew they were childish whims of an intoxicated man, his happiness a priority in times like these. Upon his nod, you started saying his name, half teasingly, half reassuringly, the leaves rustling in the garden behind you.

"Max... Max!! Max Max-"

He shouldn't. It would complicate things, and he liked when they were simple, clean and organized. He knew he shouldn't even when his whole vision spun and his brain convinced him that he should do things he would never do otherwise. But every time he refrained from saying something he would stumble across all his words and trip and fall and his head would only hurt more, and it seemed as if he could only focus if he kept listening to you and talking to you and looking at you.

The lights shone behind you in a way that made it feel as though he was dreaming, like you were a mirage, too good to be true. Maybe his friends were right - you weren't actually real. He wanted to be sure, in that moment. That you were real and that he wanted you as much as he thought. And though he shouldn't, though it was a terrible idea, he couldn't help but lean over to kiss you.

He tasted like champagne - bubbly and slightly sweet, his movements sloppy given his state, yet you couldn't help but drink it all in. Part of you - a big part - reciprocated the kiss, felt his fingers on the side of your neck, pulling you messily towards him, and tried to steady him, guiding him gently with your own lips.

It was odd, how this felt so right yet the fake hand holding didn't. As Max kissed you, that thought entered his clouded mind - did it feel wrong because it was fake and this was real? Your skin felt so soft, so much softer now he could touch it freely and unapologetically.

"Fuck-" he started, pulling away, his head resting against the wall once again as he stared at you, noticing how it hasn't hit you yet; what you just did, how it affected everything. "I fucking love you" he shrugged as you fixed your hair, pausing with arms raised for a few seconds before smiling softly.

"You're drunk" you replied, looking at his own grin, the gleam in his eyes making him appear both innocent and guilty of so many things.

"I'm drunk and I fucking love you"

"Max..." you started, and he said your name back to you with such tenderness you couldn't believe his lips tasted of alcohol earlier and not something sweet.

"We'll talk tomorrow, okay?" you continued, waiting for the silence to swallow you both.

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writingouthere · 7 months

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friendswithbenefits!Sukuna x reader

You go on a date with Yuuji's colleague from work and he's nice but you can't stop thinking of Sukuna, your 'friend' with benefits who has made it clear to you that the two of you are not in a relationship.

cw: possessive behavior, smut

"So then the kid and his friends tried to say that there must just be a fire somewhere."

You snort. "And what the fire just happened to smell like weed?"

You both laugh and you take another sip of your drink. It's a little milder than you usually like, but it's growing on you, kind of like your date.

His name is Yuuta and he's a teacher at the same school as Yuuji. He's cute, not much older than you and he's been polite to every member of staff you've encountered at this restaurant tonight. He teaches history to some of the older grades and it's clear he's passionate about what he does. He's spent the past half hour telling you funny stories about the kids he teaches and stories about his co-workers that have you almost choking on your drink. You've heard about a lot of the same staff members from Yuuji so they feel familiar, like you know them, even the ones you haven't actually met yet.

"Sorry, I think I've been going on for a while. I tend to ramble when I get nervous." He scratches the back of his head, the gesture self deprecating, but so charming, and you hate the guilt you feel at being charmed by it.

"I like your rambling, it's cute," you tell him and you find yourself fond of the way he blushes in response.

It's been a long time since you went on on a real date and you've missed the ritual of it. The typical questions and nerves are as banal as ever, but there were the good parts too.

The excitement of getting to know a new person, the way that over the course of the night you imagine how your life may fit with theirs. Which friends could you see them getting along with? Did he keep his apartment clean? How would he kiss you at the end of the night.

A look at his mouth had you thinking he had to be a great kisser.

"What about you? Any crazy co-workers?"

The rest of the night goes smoothly. The food is good, the drinks were lovely, he cuts himself off after his second.

Responsible. Kind. Funny.

He was everything you were looking for and yet.

And yet.

Sometimes when he laughs, you think about another man's laugh. One that's less kind, louder, and so expressive it takes over his whole face when he lets it out.

When Yuuta helps you with your coat, you can't help but imagine his face twisting up in derision at the sight.

What? Forget how to use your arms, princess?

Yuuta and you are talking about a movie you'd both seen recently and liked, and he's so perfect. But he's not yours.

"I had a great time, tonight." You both are taking the same subway home, but your stop comes up first. Your train car is empty and when Yuuta leans in to kiss you, you let him.

It's chaste, sweet and not what you're looking for tonight. The knowing smile he wears when he pulls away tells you he knows it too.

"I had a great time too, text me when you get home?" Your rejection, even an unsaid one, does nothing to change his temper towards you. It's almost a shame, you'd kind of like to see what he could be like with a little more of a spark to him.

"I will!"

You wave and step off the platform and walk home to your apartment. He'd sent you a text checking in earlier but you hadn't answered yet He hadn't sent a follow up, probably distracted. He'd gone out with Megumi and some guys from gym he trained at. He was probably well on his way to being throroughly trashed.

You turn your key in the lock and open the door to your apartment. It's dark and cold. You don't really want to spend the rest of your night alone with your thoughts. You shut the door, lock it and take out your phone. You think about sending a text to Yuuji to see where he is but then change your mind. You don't necessarily feel like sitting a sports bar on a Friday night listening to a bunch of gymbros talk about macros or their upper body circuit.

You could try texting one of your girlfriends, but then you'd have to actually have a meaningful conversation and your brain was one sharp tug away from unraveling.

You bite your lip. There was someone you'd like to see.

"This is a bad idea." You look down at your shoes. "Such a bad idea."

You find yourself outside of bad idea's apartment and your hand is knocking before you can second guess yourself.

The door swings open with your fist still poised to knock again.

"So the date didn't go too well then?"

You bring your arm down, fist still clenched. You had to at least give it to Sukuna, he was fucking consistent. He leaned against the doorway, looking comfortable with how the position allowed him to leer over you and with his choice of casual attire.

He was wearing an old tank top and sweats that looked like they were one wash away from just disintegrating. They did nothing to hide anything and you hated how you couldn't stop your gaze from going down.

"It was a nice date, actually." He hummed and looked over his nails, as if checking his cuticles.

"There's that word again." Sukuna still wasn't looking at you but his smugness filled the air like a pipe had burst that housed particularly toxic fumes. "If he was so nice," the sound came out like a hiss, "then why are you here?"

You didn't answer and when it was clear you weren't going to, Sukuna finally looked up at you.

"I'll tell you why you're here, you know, if you're curious." He stood up to his full height and grabbed your arm, pulling you close to him. When you were right next to each other, he grabbed your chin, pulling you up as he bent down so you were face to face.

His breath smelled like the ginger tea he always had before bed. It was spicy, familiar, it made your hands clench with the urge to hold him.

"You're here because that nice boy wasn't going to fuck you right and that's what you want isn't it," his hand cupped your face, his breath warm on your cheek as he cursed in your ear, "to get fucked?"

You couldn't help yourself from shivering and you nodded as he began to press kisses down your neck. Pulling down the neckline of your dress, probably stretching it, ruining it, and you don't even care, you just want his hands on you.

"Use your words, baby. Tell me is that why you came here? You needed to get fucked right and you knew that I was the only one who could do that for you, isn't that right?" He ends his words with a bite to your collarbone that stops your legs from working right.

You wrap your arms around his neck, your hands going into his soft hair that you know he uses conditioner on and you hate how just the smell of him sends a pulse to your core. That the familiarness of him is just as sexy as his words.

Something about the feel of him in your hands, his words in your ears, his teeth against your neck, it's the same dance you two have done dozens of times and it just keeps getting better. How are you supposed to be satisfied with someone else and when no one else has ever touched you like this, like they know every place that makes you weak, like they were put on this earth just to unmake you?

"Tell me," his words are more urgent now but he doesn't wait for you to answer, pulling you into his apartment and pushing you up against the door after he slams it so hard you're worried the hinges may have snapped. "Tell me, tell me princess. Tell me I'm the only one who can get you like this, the only one who can see you like this."

It's too possessive, too overwhelming. If your mind was still in working order, you may point out these are claims too heavy for a casual hookup. That he was not your boyfriend, or your husband, or anything to you and yet you found yourself nodding anyway.

"Just you, just you Sukuna." For a second he almost seems to freeze and you worry that you said something wrong despite him starting this. That worry is ripped from you when he smashes his mouth to yours, the force of it almost painful. It's an abrupt departure from the other kiss you'd gotten tonight and you wonder if the taste of another man on you fuels him as he starts to pull at your clothes.

You're both barely undressed, only removing what needs to be removed to get him inside you, when he presses his cock against your cunt. It's so hot and you'll never get over how good he fills you, how right it feels when he's inside you and Sukuna finally lets go of your mouth when you let out a moan you're sure they can hear in the hallway. You can feel his grin against your throat and you don't even mind as he settles in you, making you almost uncomfortably full.

"S-Sukuna!"

"Yeah, does that feel good? Like how my cock feels in you?" You don't answer him, not really capable of speech. He hums and pulls out of you just enough for you to feel it when he thrusts back in. You've fucked countless times, it's not even your first time fucking against the front door, which should embarrass you a little more, but something feels different.

Something feels different as Sukuna proceeds to fuck you hard, but somehow gentle, the beat between each thrust calculated for you to get overwhelmed by the feel of him to the point of it being too much just for him to pull away from you, but never fully leave you.

The kisses you exchange are sloppy, more a pressing of mouths together than real kissing and yet it's perfect and he's perfect and you could have tried this with the nice young man you'd gone on a date with tonight, who you're currently forgetting the name of, but what was the point? How could you try and find anyone to take Sukuna's place when he had carved it out himself inside you.

After you've both cum and you feel too tired to even attempt to collect your clothing or your dignity so you can leave, Sukuna lifts you up and carries you to his bedroom. The routine the two of you had previously established was off and you weren't sure what to do about it. You tried not to think about it as he carried you to the bathroom and cleaned you off or as he pulled an old t-shirt over your head. You tried not to think about it even more when he tucked you into bed.

He slid into the bed behind you and pulled you into his arms and you weren't sure how much more you could take before you could ignore it anymore.

He pressed his lips against the back of your neck, his arms tight around you. "Don't do that again."

"Dm mat?" Your words are muddled by sleepiness and the comforter that smells like him that you've pressed to your face.

"Don't go on dates with other guys."

It's not fair, he couldn't ask that of you and you shouldn't let him.

You grab his hands in yours and thread your fingers through them.

"In the morning."

You'll talk about this in the morning, about how you need boundaries and space and maybe this arrangement needs to end. Sukuna hums and presses closer to you, you can feel his lips in your hair.

The both of you can get on the same page in the morning.

Just a little something. Maybe this is a series now? Does the tense change partway through, yes. Does it change in fact multiple times, yes. Idk.

#jjk sukuna #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #ryomen sukuna #sukuna ryomen #sukuna x reader #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #jujutsu kaisen #friendswithbenefits!Sukuna x reader

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vivwritesfics · 5 months

Text

Quidditch Thighs

Lando and Max have big ol thighs from Quidditch. Charles and reader show them just how much they love them

Warnings: Smut, foursome, thigh riding

This was requested by @norrisleclercf1 and it's just been sitting here in my drafts for the longest bloody time, i legit can't believe it's taken me this long nat i'm so sorry i've been thinking about this fic daily

She loved to watch her boys playing quidditch. Especially in the summer, where she could sit outside on the grass and watch Lando and Max.

They always trained together. Whether the rest of the Slytherin team were with them or not, they always trained together. Charles, too, joined in, but that was a rarity. They had classes at different times, meaning the time they got to spend together was rare. Rare, but treasured.

She read on the grass as she watched them. It was quiet, with the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs still in classes. At the bottom of every page she looked up and watched as they raced each other to the snitch.

From her position on the grass she couldn't see the smiles on their faces as they chased each other. At one point the stitch was long forgotten and they just chased each other .

While she was reading, several of her fellow Ravenclaws came and sat by her. "We get why you sit here now," One of them said, wearing a smirk.

"Huh?" She asked as she looked up, slipping her bookmark between her pages. "What do you mean?"

"Well," another one began as she leaned back, propped up by her palms. "Look at their thighs. I wouldn't mind taking a seat there."

She was incredibly embarrassed as she looked between them. "W-what the hell, guys?" She cried, holding her book to her chest. "You know I'm dating both of them, right? Like, you're literally thirsting over my boyfriends in front of me."

"At least we haven't said anything about Charles," said the third. "Even though he is so hot."

Suddenly she was incredibly uncomfortable. Her grip on her book tightened and she looked at the Quidditch pitch. But even that felt wrong, especially with all of the things the other Ravenclaws had said.

She stop responding to them and they quickly stood up and walked off, clearly bored.

Eventually, Charles came and sat beside her. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close as he kissed the top of her head. "Hey, chérie," he said quietly as she leaned against him.

Her response was mumbled. "What's up?" He asked softly, kindly. That's how Charles always was with her. Sweet and kind and so loving.

So, she told him what the other Ravenclaws had said to her, how it made her feel. Charles listened, nodded along and kissed her head again.

"Want me to go, uh, have a word with them?" He offered and she shook her head. No, that would have only made things worse. Charles knew that, but he still offered, making her feel loved. "They are right, though," he said. "They have no right to say it to you about our boyfriends, but they do have really nice thighs. Really sexy thighs."

"Charlie, I know!" She cried, gently hitting his chest. "I know, but they our boyfriends. They can't say that about our boyfriends." The last part was said quietly, muttered as Charles pulled her into his chest.

He laughed and she smacked his shoulder. "Okay, okay. How about we go down to the dungeon and show them just how much we love those thighs?"

She thought about it. They had the password to get in (Max wrote it in the back of Charles's notebook every time it changed, and it would be a welcome surprise for their tired boys.

Slowly, she nodded, but it soon picked up speed. "Yeah, okay. Let do it, let go. Now, c'mon, lets go," she said in quick succession and pulled Charles to his feet.

It wasn't clear whether Max and Lando could see them go. They (being her and Charles) weren't to know that the boys stopped their quidditch practice the moment they saw their partners had gone.

Max and Lando didn't know why they didn't expect it, why they didn't expect to find their partners on their beds in the Slytherin common room. "Shit," Lando hissed as he watched them, tangled together, lips locked. "Did you guys want for us?"

She pulled away from Charles, his leg between her own. "We tried," she whispered and buried her face against Charles's neck.

Lando stripped himself out of his quidditch robes. He climbed onto the bed with them, gently pulling the two of them away, attaching his lips to Charles.

Max gently pulled her over to him. He sat her on his lap and stroked his thumb over her cheek. "You look so pretty," he whispered and kissed her. And, as he kissed her, his hands on her hips, gently moving her on his thigh.

Whines left her lips as Max moved her. He pulled away to kiss down her neck, his grip on her tightening. Where he moved her gently against his thigh, she sped up, gripping his shoulders. "Max," she whispered, eyes shutting as she rested her forehead against his chest.

Suddenly, a hand was holding her own. She raised her head, looked at Charles and Lando toyed with him. "What is it, Schat?" Max whispered against her neck.

She simply whined, and he had barely touched her.

The friction was getting to be too much and too little all at the same time. She let out a cry and tried to pull away from Max's thigh, but he held her there, held her still. "What do you need?" Lando asked as he looked away from Charles.

Breathlessly, she looked at Lando and Charles over Max's shoulder. "Touch me," she squeaked, breathlessly. "Please.

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