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gojonanami · 2 months

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❝ 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐃 𝐔𝐏 ? ❞

❝ THE SHIBUYA INCIDENT? MORE LIKE THE SHIBARI INCIDENT ! ❞

✧ summary: they got too touchy, so you tied them up! (anon request)

✧ pairings: s. gojo, s. geto, k. nanami, t. fushiguro, r. sukuna, c. kamo

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, tying up (m! receiving), overstimulation (gojo, nanami, choso), multiple orgasms, sub! gojo, choso, switch! geto, toji, nanami, oral (f! receiving) (toji), oral (m! receiving) (nanami), riding (gojo), face riding (toji), shibari (choso), true form sukuna, stomach mouth for sukuna makes an appearance, art by @ / innaillus

✧ w/c: 6,212

SATORU GOJO

“You have no one to blame but yourself, Toru,” you bounced slowly on his cock, twitching in your folds as if it could get deeper if only you would let him.

(You wouldn’t).

“I warned you that I’d tie you up if you kept teasing me all night,” your fingers trace the rope around his wrists, before sliding them up to behind his back, “and what did you do?”

“you tested me baby,” you lean closer, letting your pert nipples draw close to his lips, but still just out of reach, letting him sink down to the hilt. a whimper leaves his throat, muffled against your soaked panties shoved in his mouth, “but you’re so good now, when you’re like this,” your fingers card through his hair, before tugging hard on the silky strands and you feel him twitch deep inside your drenched folds.

His sky blue eyes are glassy, pretty tears pooling, as your lips press sweet kisses to his jaw, and he mumbles something against the fabric that sounds like ‘please’ and you’re smiling that lovely smile that he had been kissing only a few minutes before.

“Begging already? Didn’t know my pussy felt that good,” and you lift yourself up, so only his tip remains inside your warm folds before slamming down, making his head loll back, a muffled grunt making your walls clench, “you’re too fucking big, Toru,” you slide your hand down your stomach, “think you’re actually fucking my guts now,” and his eyes watch as your fingers ghost over the slight bulge his dick makes inside you, “knew you were the strongest, but I didn’t think you meant in bed too,”

Another whine is pulled from his throat, and you take pity on him, pulling the fabric from his mouth, drenched in your precum and his saliva. His pants are nearly enough to make you cum from the sound of it, the sounds that left his lips were yours and yours alone - because he may be the strongest, but he was yours all the same.

“What do you need?” You’re bouncing on his cock slowly, slower even now that you can clearly hear the whines leaving his throat, his engorged tip kissing your womb, “use your words, and maybe I’ll let you have it,”

“Please, baby, wanna cum in your princess cunt,” he whines, music to your ears, and only your ears — because only he would be such a mess for you, “wanna fill you up, feel you cum around me,”

“I’ll let you cum,” and he blinks up at you, a tear slipping down his cheek, “if you beg for it,” He whimpers, a pathetic noise that only makes your insides twitch, “you asked for this, you love it when I do this, maybe I should suck you off the next time you have a meeting with the higher ups — imagine their horror if they walked in on us like that, but you’d love that, wouldn’t you?”

You slam down on him, his head falling back, but you’re pulling him back into a messy kiss, all tongue and teeth and moans, “is this cunt that good for you, baby? Tell me how good it is,”

“S-so, good, fuck—“ and you know he’s close, from the way he’s keening and whining, the way his fat tip twitches against your cervix, and the way his pretty eyes glaze over from a clear cerulean to a cloudy blue. But you’re not far off either — the way his cock kisses every inch of you, bullying your sopping cunt open — it’s not gonna be much longer, “I’m—“

And you’re nodding, “Cum, fill me up, Toru, want you to fuck your cum inside me,” and that’s all it takes.

He cums, spurts of thick cum gushing inside your sloppy pussy, as you continue to ride him through his orgasm, until his tip finds that one spot that has you following him over the edge, cumming hard.

You’re panting, as you continue to ride him — bouncing again and again, until your knees give out, pleasure curling your toes, and flooding your body — just as his seed did.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Satoru looks up at you, fucked out gaze and smile on his lips, “didn’t know you could top me like that, otherwise, I would have had you done it a long time ago,”

“Shoulda known you of all people would like to get topped,” and he’s raising an eyebrow, before his cock twitches inside you, “already ready for round two—“

You squeak as he flips you over, the rope formerly holding him in hand, “wha—how?”

“Y’know as much as I liked you tying me up,” he pins your arms with one hand, and winding the rope with the other — not too toght, but enough that it burns into your skin, “think you’d look even prettier than I did.”

SUGURU GETO

“Fuck, Suguru, you look so good like this,”

And he did — especially handcuffed to your headboard— vulnerability suited Suguru Geto well — something reserved for you and only you. And something you definitely earned after all the games he had played with you all night long. Orgasm after orgasm pulled from you with a few fingers and laps of his tongue, until you fell apart under him, with nothing more than his smirk as your reward (aside from pleasure of course).

And you knew Suguru preferred your pleasure over your own — punishingly so, as he loved nothing more than to see you fall apart into a crying mess under his touch — fat tears and begging that only made him ready to cum in his boxers untouched.

But you were tired of not touching.

“We can agree to disagree, Princess,” he says through gritted teeth, as the clink of the handcuffs draws a small smile to your lips, “I think you’d look much prettier like this for me,” and the last word is more of a gasp, as you thumb his weeping tip, “fuck—”

“That’s what I’m trying to do,” and he glowers at you, a deep violet so dark it’s almost black with the way he stares at you, “Aw why so mad? You’re the one asking for it,”

“We’ll see who’s asking for it once you uncuff me—“

SMACK!

And he hissed as your palm came down on his thigh, hard, red blooming against his skin, “what was that?” he still glared all the same, but his anger came apart at the seams with the way your fingers grazed his clothed cock, growing harder by the second, and fuck, the way he pulsed in your fingers, as his fat tip twitched when your fingers grazed his slit, “poor Sugu, you complain so much, but you fucking love this don’t you? Love being at my mercy with nowhere to go and nothing else to do but get jerked off,”

You cut off his reply with a snap of the elastic of his boxers against his skin, a gasp parting his pretty lips. And when you finally the tugged the soaked fabric down, you saw his pretty cock was as flushed as his cheeks were — the tip a pretty scarlet, dripping with pearly precum that you were dying to suck off, and the lovely veins that wrapped around his length like a Christmas present you were dying to unwrap.

“Fuuuuuck, baby—“ he sucks air through his teeth, the rattle of the metal of the cuffs against your bedframe, breath shaky as he watches you with half lidded eyes. you’re still teasing him, fingers tracing along the toned muscles of his inner thighs, so close to where he wants you, but too fucking far, “you g’nna toy with me all night or are you going to give me what we both want?”

“What we both want?” You raise an eyebrow, and he scoffs, all too confident for a man handcuffed at your will.

“Know you love getting me to blow my load as much as you love getting off yourself,” and then your fingers wrap around his base and squeeze, head lolling back, lips parted in a groan, hips thrusting into your touch.

“Think you’re putting too much value on your dick, Suguru,” and your thumb rubs meanly at his weeping slit, making him twitch under your touch, cuffs straining with the way he tugs harder and harder at them, rubbing his wrists raw, “should I show you your place?”

And you start to pump his rock hard cock slowly, gathering his pre as makeshift lube, before spitting directly onto his dick.

“You fucker,” he moans, nearly coming right there at the sight — it was too much, tip twitching at the feeling as you continue your excruciatingly slow pace, “don’t be a tease or you know I’ll give it right back to you, but worse,”

“Oh, I know you will,” you grin back, but oblige him, fisting him faster, his body arching into nearly a crescent as he jerked his hips into your fingers. And god, he’s fuckinh close — you know he is by the way he’s twitching in your hand and groaning your name, “cum f’me, Suguru, cum all over me,”

And he does, and he cums all over your fingers, pumping him through his orgasm, as his thick release coats your hand, dripping onto the sheets, “fuck, Suguru, you came so much,” you pull your hand away, licking each cum covered digit clean, “gotta do this more often if you’re gonna—“

You yelp, as he flips you over onto your stomach, your head turning as he pins you with his body, hardening erection pressed against your ass, holding your broken handcuffs in one hand and pushing his long black locks back with the other, dark eyes half lidded in pleasure and satisfaction—

“You think I’m gonna let this slide Princess?” And he’s teasing your wet entrance with his tip, “better think again,” and he’s handcuffing you to the headboard, both wrists caught as the chain linked through the metal bars of your headboard

“Suguru—“ and the you hear the distinct snap of his phone camera, as he smirks at you when you turn your head to look at him, right as he guides the tip of his cock inside you, a moan leaving your lips.

“You were wrong sweetheart, maybe I look good handcuffed but you’re perfect.”

NANAMI KENTO

You were the perfect wife. Kento’s perfect wife.

Not a single bad word could be uttered about you, whether within his earshot or not, Kento would know — and no one wanted to get on his bad side. Or they would most certainly face a swift punishment with his blunt blade and tie wrapped around his knuckles.

But that didn’t mean you couldn’t turn the tables on him once in a while. Right?

It was the perfect anniversary — a day spent together, a dinner shared at a five star restaurant, and now a night spent together in bed. But Kento had done so much for you — he had planned the day and the dinner — so the least you could do is repay the favor with dessert.

Well, for you anyway.

“Baby, let me—“ Kento gritted his teeth, straining against his own tie, the one you had lovingly wrapped around his wrists, holding his arms behind his back.

“You can handle a few more, can’t you, Kento? We still haven’t gotten to seven,” you pressed a kiss to the tip of his oversensitive cock — and fuck, you loved seeing him like this. The always put together, always professional, always business-like ratio sorcerer falling apart from your touch. You loved seeing the way his flush crawled up his neck until his cheekbones were flushed beautifully, the way his pristine hair was mussed and messy from your fingers running through it, and the way his pretty light eyes were dark and colored with lust — just for you.

And all it took was this — your lithe fingers undoing the buttons of his shirt, kissing down his toned chest, paying special attention to every scar, until your hands found your buckle of his belt. You undo his belt with the same practiced ease, tugging down his slacks and boxers at once, until you see his pretty cock.

Or rather, your dessert.

How many times had he cum for you? Probably four or five times.

“Don’t tell me you’re already impatient, husband,” you suck at his weeping tip, making him grunt, thighs tensing as you let him slide past your lips into your warm mouth. And fuck, the heaviness of his cock against your tongue was nearly too much for you, pressing your thighs together, “after how long you spent fucking me last night, shouldn’t I repay the favor?”

And he had fucked you well — far too well. How many times did he make you beg for it — and yes it may have been at your request, but you also had wanted him to fuck you, fuck you with that dick you loved so much, but he spent so much of the night with his face buried in your cunt, not letting you get off the way you wanted, not until his perfect little wife was a blubbering mess for him.

So now it’s your turn.

You wouldn’t let him touch you, not until you had your fun — after all he had his dessert last night, and there’s more than you wanted right now than a stomach full of his cum.

He grunted, “Fuck sweetheart, how long are you gonna not let me touch you?” And you’re smirking against his length, humming around him, as you begin to bob up and down. And all he can do his watch you with half lidded eyes, “so fucking a mix of his precum and your saliva dripping from the corner of your mouth, “know you must be dripping, want to make you feel good too—“

And his sentence is cut off by you sucking hard, his balls grow tense, as he groans your name loudly, before he’s cumming again, thick release coating your throat. You swallow every drop, and each time he came, it was less, but it was still so much.

He’s panting and straining against his restraints, as you continue to suck and trace his dick through his orgasm, making him keen and moan at your touch, but almost flinch away all the same.

“Don’t run away from me, Kento,” you pull away from his cock, strings of cum and spit connecting his length to your lips, “my perfect man, there’s nothing more than I love to see you fall apart for me,” you lick your lips clean, palms sliding up his chest, as you lean over him, fingers carding through his blond locks again, before tugging hard, “you deserve to be taken care of, so I’ll let you choose,” he stares up at you, as your lips find his in a bruising kiss, your tongue dragging over the seam of his lips before slipping inside, letting him taste his cum on your mouth, “do you want to cum in my mouth or my cunt this time?”

His mouth opened, but no words came out for a moment, until he felt your fingers ghost over his overly sensitive cock again, “F-fuck—your cunt, sweetheart, need to be inside you, I can’t wait another—” and you’re on his lap in an instant, his swollen mushroom tip dragging against your sloppy cunt, and with the way he’s looking at you with dark, half lidded eyes, you knew his hands would have split you open on his cock in an instant, calloused palms from using his blunt blade using you as a glorified fuck toy, even as he whispered sweet nothings about how good you felt while fucking you like a whore.

So you would do the same for him.

You sunk onto him all at once, letting your hole engulf his length with the same eagerness you always had for him, so fucking good to watch his cock sink inside you, the curve of his length hitting places you could never reach, as if his ratio applied to your cunt too.

“Wanted this, didn’t you, love?” you ask, cupping his cheek to force him to meet your gaze, “wanted your wife’s pussy this bad? Is it that good for you?” And he’s groaning in reply, as you give a slow bounce, forcing his cock even deeper somehow, and he wants to touch you so bad, wants to grope your tits and squeeze your hips as his fingers dug into the soft flesh of your hips and forced you deeper onto him, “tell me how good it is, Kento, and maybe I’ll let you cum,”

“It’s good, it’s s’good,” and you’re beginning to fuck yourself open on his cock, fingers finding his broad shoulders as your nails dug pretty crescents into his back as you fucked his dick, the sounds of skin slapping together ringing in his ears, “So perfect, just like you,” he’s not going to last long with how sensitive he is. And he cums just as his tip brushes against your womb, shooting a near blank, as his head falls back, until you’re pulling him back to you to meet in a messy kiss that’s all tongue and teeth, until you fall over the edge, soaking his dick and lap in your juices as you continue to ride him, until you slump against him, panting in his ear, murmuring:

“Happy anniversary, Kento.”

RYOMEN SUKUNA

“Fuck, ngh, Sukuna, don’t use—hah—“

“You can take it, woman, you have before,” and his fingers fuck deeper into you, while his other hands grope at you — your chest, your hips, your ass, “gotta open you up if you’re gonna take both of my cocks, unless you want me to read you apart,” he’s sinking a third finger inside you, your head falling back, exposing your neck to his lips, leaning down to graze your pulse with his teeth.

He just loved to do this — fuck you wide open with his fingers, let each of them stretch you out to no end, until you were begging for something else — anything else.

“Motherfucker,” he’s bullying your cunt open with three of his fingers, but it’s more squeezing than stretching, as your slick drips down his large hand, “you’re gonna break me with your goddamn fingers,” and his other hands tweak your nipples, pinching and twisting them, making you yelp, as the pleasure builds, his fourth hand teasing your abused clit.

“You’d fucking cum either way, whore,” and you glare for a millisecond until your traitorous cunt climaxes all the same, a long whine parting your lips as he fucks you knuckle deep, knocking at your cervix, through your orgasm, “shit, I see at least your slutty cunt can listen, unlike you,” and he’s still curling and twisting his fingers, before finally pulling them from you as you gasp, pussy aching from his touch, “complaining and yet you pruned my fingers, didn’t you?” he gives a smack to your twitching pussy, drawing another yelp from your lips, heat flooding your cheeks and anger rushing to your lips.

“Talk awful big for someone who has four fucking arms and that’s the only way you know how to make me cum,” you spit venom without thought of who you’re spitting it at, until your body freezes, as he flips you over with ease, looming over you, all four of those same arms crossed, “Kuna—I—”

“Is that so, brat? My fingers are the only thing that’s made you cum recently?” you stumble over your words, but his lips only curl into a mean grin, and you know you fucked up, “then let’s see about that,”

“You can do better than that,” he grunts, a smirk on his lips as he watches you, riding his thigh lamely, drenched cunt making a mess, your slick running down the sides of his leg, “so fucking wet just from rubbing your cunt on me, don’t even to do anything to make my pussy cum, she does that all on her own,”

You whimper, “Kuna, please—“ and he clicks his tongue.

“Said you only came from my fingers, didn’t you?” He shows off his tied arms behind his back, the very same he had you tie while your pussy throbbed, wanting nothing more than his fingers stuffed up your hole again, “we gotta fix that, brat. Can’t have you saying I can only get this slutty cunt cumming one way,” he flexes his thigh, making you jerk against it, the wet squelch of your pussy dragging up and down his thigh, until he’s making you ride it, bouncing you on the muscle.

God, why was every part of his body so fucking big?

He could feel your puffy clit and lips open wide on his toned thigh, as if he could stuff his whole fucking knee in your hole, and you know he would if he could, but he settles for feeling your sloppy cunt flutter around nothing, slick dripping down his leg.

He chuckles darkly, watching every movement with you, lidded eyes far too pleased with the view in front of him, “Seems like you don’t even need my help to get you off, do you brat?” he stops his movements, making you whine, and you can’t stop yourself from grinding down on his thigh, “that’s it, whore, need you to fucking soak me — think you’re so good, but when it comes down to it, you just want to be fucked like the rest of them, don’t you?”

He uses his knee to catch your clit, rubbing meanly against it, and it’s too much, pleasure making your toes curl, as you can only moan his name again and again, “Fuck,” your fingers find purchase on his shoulders, chasing your high, as you fucked yourself open on his thigh.

“That’s it girl, cum for me, let me see you break,” and he jerks his thigh again right as your cunt grinds down on him at just the right angle that has you seeing stars, “say my name,”

And you do as you squirt all over his thigh, a gasp ripped from your throat as you moan his name, your eyes burning as your hips can’t stop riding him, seeking that high longer, the squelch of your messy cunt growing louder with every thrust of your hips.

“Shit, that was a good orgasm, wasn’t it, woman? Much better than my fingers,” he flexes his thigh again, pulling another whine from your throat, legs shaking, but he only hums, as your eyes meet his, desperate and wanting, one that he only meets with a laugh, “practically begging for my cocks now, aren’t you, brat?” but he only clicks his tongue, “straddle me,”

You hesitate, only for him to jerk his thigh, making you yelp once again, as you shift, and he does the same, moving back onto his plush bed, your cunt rubs against his cocks, soaking him with your slick, but he only smiles.

“Did you think I would let you fuck my cocks that easily?” he sighs, shaking his head, “since I haven’t given you a proper orgasm, I think I have a lot of making up to do—” and he’s reaching around, slipping from your restraints with ease, “you’ll have to excuse my use of my hand this once, but I promise, I won’t be lifting another finger—” and he guides you forward, until you’re perched on his stomach, your hands splayed on his chest, as his hands slip back behind him. You furrow your brow a moment, lips parting with protest that dies on your lips when his stomach parts open for his large tongue to lap at your cunt, “you made such a mess, woman, now,” he forces you in place with his gaze alone, as his tongue licks the length of your sloppy cunt, “let’s clean you up, hm?”

CHOSO KAMO

“We don’t have to do this, Cho,”

You always did anything for him. From the moment you met him, you were the one to dote on him — even with how clueless he was about most things, from holding hands to kissing to even sex — you were willing to take your time, teach him what it meant to love. And he loved you — and he loved this.

“N-no, I’m fine, it just—hah, it feels so good,” and he looked even better.

His dark locks were untied as he looked up at you, arms tied in scarlet silk behind his back, much like the blood he manipulated, but instead it was you that was controlling him. The delicate yet strong Shibari knot was nestled at the base of his wrists, deep red against pale skin, more intricate knots climbed the base of his spine until the silk split across his back and winded around the middle of his shoulders towards his neck.

A knot formed at the base of his neck, right between his collarbone, multiple other loops framed his body, a present not meant to be unwrapped. Knots placed intricately at every pleasure point meaning that even the slightest touch, movement, or even breath would send pleasure thrumming through his body.

“Doesn’t it feel good to take our time?” Your fingers brushed delicately over a knot placed against his nipple, making him jolt, sending ripples of heat across his body, as the rubbing of the knots sent arousal right to his erection, “you’re always in such a rush, so eager, but now,” your fingers follow the silk down his body, down to the knots settled on either side against the base of his cock, “we can take it slow,”

And he was always quick to have you — from the first time, Choso barely had lasted you grazing his raging hard erection while your lips found his, before spilling all over your fingers. And he had sputtered apologies, cheeks as red as the silk that now bound him, but you had only smiled and asked him if he liked it. He spent the rest of the night spilling over and over again in your cunt, and each time after, he barely needed foreplay, he could cum just by eating you out — all he wanted and needed was to be buried in your cunt.

But now, he was at your mercy.

“So pretty, Cho,” you cooed, eyes sliding over him just as sweat slipped down his neck — he was spread open by the loops of red forcing him into a kneel around his thighs and ankles, even ropes tied around his hips with knots placed perfectly against his inner thighs, “usually I can’t even touch you without you pinning me down, but now I can do all I want,”

“Please, love, I need—“ and you lean down to kiss the hollow of his throat, fingers toying with the silk between your fingers, and every little movement of the ropes sent pleasure cascading down his body, “ngh, want you—“

“What do you want, Choso?” Your fingers work your way down every inch of him, “because there’s so much I can give you—-“

“Anything,” he replies, as the knots rub against his leaking cock, precum slipping down his halls, “everything, please I just need—“ and you click your tongue.

“Still so impatient,” and your touch leaves him, making him whimper, “I guess we’ll have to work on that,”

“Baby, no, can’t. No more—“ a beautiful symphony of moans leaves his lips, as your lips find his to swallow his protests, a vibrator in hand pressed to the base of his cock, “I can’t—-“

“You can cum still, Cho, one more time f’me,” cum is splattered on your carpet, and runs down his dick, “you’re so good for me, such a good boy, aren’t you?” Your praise makes him keen all the same, “know you love this, love feeling good — you’re so needy, probably would just bury your cock in my cunt,” and he’s whining, as your fingers tug on his black locks, your tongue dragging up the side of his throat, before your teeth dig into the soft flesh of your neck, “but we can’t have that, not yet — gotta make you cum so much that just burying you in my pussy is enough to make you cum,”

And you’re turning up the vibrator, and he moans your name, a rush of heat sent right to your cunt. Your eyes watch his dick twitch — he’s more long than thick, his tip flushed an angry red as you work the vibrator up and down. You couldn’t wait to stuff him inside you, feel the curve of his cock reach every inch of your cunt, until he’s fucking your stomach.

“F-fuck, I’m close—I’m gonna—“ and you turn the vibrator higher, pressing it right between the base of his cock as you tug on the silk right against it, and he’s coming again, with a cry of your name, spilling all over his stomach and chest and the ropes, “sweets, fuck, hah, please, please, I can’t—”

You ease away the vibrator, the whirring quieting, as he looked up at you with his eyes, violet pupils so dark that they nearly look black, a trickle of his spit slipping from his lips.

“You did so good, baby, so so good,” and you’re pressing soft kisses to his face, fingers tracing over the hickies you had littered his neck with, “and now tell me what you want baby,”

“I want you, want you to fuck me, need you to—“ and you’re pushing him back, still spread open from the ropes before you settle on top of him, his needy dick already hard from the rubbing from the ropes and the feeling of your wet cunt against him.

And you grin, before letting his cock split you open, down to the base, making his back arch into you, the twitch of his tip telling you he would cum again in two seconds flat — just as he did for you, “Anything for you, Choso.”

TOJI FUSHIGURO

Toji loved it when you were desperate for him.

And you always nearly were. You had the habit of jumping his bones the minute he made his way back from another bounty, not to mention the times he feigned to be late, you were already an orgasm and half ahead of him in the bedroom, taunting him for being late. And it was the most mundane of things that could turn you on — the simple adjustment of his pants, a smile he flashed you after a joke, lifting his shirt to scratch his stomach, and even running his fingers through his hair.

Just one of those things would have you tugging him home and neither of you would see the outside of your bedroom for the next two days.

That being said, when he actually messed with you…well—

“Toji,” you glare at him, gaze a mixture of frustration and lust, “if you tease me on this car ride home, I swear to god—“

“Swear what, doll?” He drawled, eyes still fixed on the road, lips pulled into that same smirk he always had, “not like you won’t be able to resist fucking yourself stupid on my dick when we get home,”

“Fuck off,” you scowl out the window, and his smirk only grows larger, cock stirring in his pants. He loved riling you up — especially when it was so easy, but also because it made him want to fuck you all the same, until you were begging him with glassy eyes and slutty moans.

It had only started because he saw a man at the store eye you the wrong way. So his hand slid to the small of your back, turning to meet the gaze of the man leering before squeezing your ass, drawing a gasp from your lips and a pout. And he didn’t miss the subtle press of your thighs together as you walked off, the way your eyes lingered on him, dragging down until your teeth bore down on your bottom lip.

Fuck. And he couldn’t stop. Then it was him pressing up behind you while you were rifling through clothes, letting you feel his half hard erection. And then he was pressing open mouthed kisses to your neck in the changing room when you asked him to zip you up in a dress.

“That’s exactly what I wanna do, doll,” he turns the corner, “wanna fuck you open with my fingers until you beg me to stop, want our neighbors to hear how I slut you out every night,” your fingers curl into the fabric of your dress, and he knows you must be a mess under that thin fabric, soaking through your panties, “don’t make a fucking mess of your seat, car’s a loaner from Shiu,”

“And who’s fault is it that I’m making a mess in the first place, asshole?” And your husband shrugs, leaning back as he rolls to a stop at the last light before you rolled into your neighborhood. His hand reaches across the console, his large, calloused palm sliding up your bare thigh, until it breaches your edge of your underwear, making your body tense. And the pads of his fingers press against the soaking fabric of panties.

“Well, who’s the one who’s wet like a whore from a few words right now?” And finally the light turns green, and his hand retreats, instead resting on your thigh, drawing circles on your knee with his thumb, same smug grin on his lips, “almost home, and I’ll shut her up, won’t I?”

And he would — but you’d shut him up too.

“Hah, To-ji, fuck, s’good—“ and his lips close around your puffy clit and suck hard, his tongue slipping in and out of your messy hole, “k-knew your mouth was good for something,” and you yelp when you feel his teeth bite your clit, before he’s redoubling his efforts, swirling, sucking, and licking, “not so fucking annoying when your mouth is full,” your moans fill his ears, and he growls against your folds, his wrists bound with a cursed tool that neutralized his strength, one that you had slipped from his collection for a moment like this.

Shit, he was so fucking hard, and he couldn’t even fist himself, but more than that, he wanted to pin you down, stuff your cunt full of his fingers until you begged for him to stop. His tongue wasn’t enough for his slutty pussy, he wanted to fuck you right — the way he wanted. But if this was the game you wanted to play, he would — his wrists rubbed raw from trying to slip from his restraints — for now.

He slurps at your sweet cunt, large tongue licking a stripe after stripe up your messy cunt, grinding down, as his nose bumped and dragged against your clit, “Such a fucking slut, soaking my face like this — wanna cum so bad, g’nna tie me up just so you can get yourself off?”

“Ngh, it’s your fucking fault pulling that shit in the mall, if you hadn’t—” you moan, cutting you off by tongue fucking your cunt open, swallowing every drop of your juices as he bullied your walls open with that sharp tongue of his.

“It’s not my fault your fucking ass attracts the attention of every freak in sight—”

You scoff, “Like you?” and he chuckles darkly, making your smirk drop from your lips, as he grinds his face into your folds, his face glossy with your pre, as dark eyes meet yours, and you can feel the smirk against your needy pussy.

“But this is the freak that fucks you isn’t it?” his tongue traces fast circles around your clit, “the freak you beg to fuck you open every night, the one who’s dick you can’t enough of, the one who’s face you’re fucking, isn’t that right, wife?”

And you’re so fucking close, the way he ate you out was the same way he kissed you, as if he wanted to take you, all of you, until his jaw would ache, until tears ran down your face, until there was nothing left of you for him to taste.

“Toji, I’m close—I can’t—” and he’s grunting, as he sucks hard on your clit, licking and slurping at your pussy.

“Cum, make a fucking mess on my face,” and you do, cumming hard as you moan his name, but he continues to eat you out as you ride out your orgasm, not letting a single drop of your juices go to waste — lapping and sucking until you finally stilled, your panting filling the silence of the room.

Until you heard a rip.

And then you were on your back, ripped up parts of the cursed tool tossed aside, as Toji grinned down at you, lips and chin still shiny with your release, as his pink tongue darted out to collect it.

“Toji—I—” and he’s smirking down at you, tilting his head, as he forces your thighs apart to reveal your all too sensitive folds, “ngh, please, I can’t—”

He clicks his tongue, licking his lips agai, “Now, lemme show you how much of a freak I am, doll.”

✧ a/n: this was an anon request i got a while back and i've had gojo's written for so long, but i got hit hella by writer's block and imposter's syndrome so, well here it is now :). this is to tide you guys over as i work through some larger projects

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churipu · 7 months

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"SHUT UP, MAMA." 𓆝 ⋆｡𖦹°‧

ִ ࣪𖤐 featuring. gojo satoru, toji fushiguro, nanami kento

ִ ࣪𖤐 warnings. fem! reader, husband! au, i made names for your children but feel free to disregard it

note. i remembered this tiktok trend, just figured i should write about how the jjk men would react to their child doing this.

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

gojo had a day off. it's rare for a jujutsu sorcerer like him — being the strongest, he's an asset to the jujutsu world. so him being in a day off is like a miracle to both you and your seven year old son, who might i say, is an exact carbon copy of your husband.

"honey, you need to put your toys away. it's almost dinner time," you said from the kitchen, gojo by your side, ready to help you with anything.

"let me take that," he sings out, grabbing two plates from your grasp — you chuckled, letting him take the white colored ceramic disk, "looks good, baby."

as you and gojo walked out of the kitchen, placing the plates on top of the dining table. gojo pulled out your seat for you. habits die hard, the male has always pulled your seat out for you since the very first date.

your son. marise gojo. a boisterous little boy, absolutely loves to play with his rocket toys, and somehow believes he's a little astronaut. there he sat in front of the TV, playing with his toys, an astronaut helmet covering his small head.

"buddy," gojo calls out to the boy, "it's dinner time, clean up your toys. mama made some good food."

when gojo's call didn't work, you tried doing it next, "marise, your food's going to get cold, honey."

the young boy didn't make any visible movements, but you heard him yell out with his high pitched voice, "shut up, mama!"

gojo looks at you briefly. i mean — as a father, he couldn't believe his own son said that. to his mother. gojo wasn't one to get mad, in fact, marise is a total daddy's boy. but he felt angry, frustrated, annoyed, all at once.

he wasted no time leaping up from his seat, approaching the young boy. his smile no longer visible; gojo was unhappy. the male used one of his hands to take off marise's astronaut helmet, tossing it aside before grabbing the young boy by his small waist.

marise didn't complain, and he still has no idea of what his father is about to do. so he just sat still in gojo's embrace — until gojo puts him down beside you, "say sorry."

marise's bright blue eyes stared up at gojo in confusion, "say sorry to mama, marise."

it wasn't "baby" or "buddy" like gojo used to address him by, and marise wasn't stupid. he knew he did something wrong, but he just didn't get what or why his father is telling him to apologize to you.

"sorry mama . . ." marise's soft voice resounds.

"do you know what you did wrong?" gojo questions sternly.

marise shook his head, his eyes watering at gojo's tone of voice, "no papa . . ."

gojo sighs, he squats down and gazes into his son's eyes, "you should never say 'shut up' to mama or papa, okay? not to anyone, 'ts not polite. don't ever do that again, now say sorry to mama for saying that."

marise nods his head and turns to look at you, his eyes watering — it's not everyday that you get to see papa gojo get angry, "'m sorry mama, i will never do that again," the young boy finally cried, letting his tears fall out of his doe eyes.

you can't help but to smile at the young boy, pulling him onto your lap to cradle him, "don't do that again, baby. 'ts not polite," your fingers grazed his chubby cheeks, wiping his tears away, "and if mama or papa tells you to stop playing and eat, what do you do?"

marise sniffled, "stop playing and eat."

"good boy," you kissed his little forehead, "go give papa a kiss."

and that marise did, gojo immediately picking the boy into his arms with a big smile, "give papa two kisses, buddy."

sure, gojo is a fun parent. but he knows how to teach his children boundaries — what to do and what not to do. he's scary when he's angry.

𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎

megumi is the child that made you and toji think you both should have another child — fukuo is the child that made you and toji stop wanting more children. not saying that fukuo is a bad kid, but the boy is relentless.

with a pretty large age difference between megumi and fukuo with six years, sometimes megumi had to teach fukuo some manners, telling the younger boy what's right and wrong. when fukuo misbehaves, it's megumi and you to the rescue — while toji would usually chuckle it off since, well, he's a little minus on the manners part as well. but you're working on that.

toji said so himself, he wouldn't mind fukuo misbehaving on some things. but the male did set some boundaries up for both of his boys and how they should act well towards you (and him).

today, megumi is twelve and fukuo is six. both of your boys look alike, "mama, 'm gonna be staying late at school because we have a play coming, 'm gonna help my classmate decorate the stage," megumi tells you as he puts on his shoes.

"alright, baby. have a good day at school, i love you," you pressed a kiss on megumi's head, waving him goodbye.

as megumi disappears behind the front door, you walk back inside the house, "toji, wake fukuo up, please. 'm getting his breakfast ready," toji who had his eyes on the television curtly nodded, sluggishly walking towards the boy's room.

"hey, champ." toji approaches the boy, who was sleeping soundly, "your mother's made some good food f' you. if you're not gonna eat it, i'll steal your portion."

fukuo squirmed a bit, but his eyes were still shut tightly, "fukuo," toji gently shook the boy, poking his cheek.

like anyone, fukuo didn't like his sleep disturbed, "papa, stop . . ." he mumbled out, shifting his small body so his little back was facing toji, "five more minutes."

toji sighs, "five more minutes."

he then went out of the room, "he asked for five more minutes," he informs you — sitting back down on the couch.

"five more minutes," was not an unfamiliar statement to you, especially coming from fukuo who had always managed to, of course, butcher the concept of time right after. it was either an hour, or more.

so you waited five minutes, and when the young boy didn't emerge from his bedroom, you found yourself walking towards it, "fukuo? baby, come on, mama made you breakfast . . ." you turn on the light, which made fukuo subconsciously twitch.

"fukuo, come on, papa will eat your breakfast . . ." you shook the boy gently.

"shut up, mama."

you blinked in surprise, but only managed out an exasperated sigh at the boy's sudden outburst, until all of a sudden toji appears beside you — his hand wet, and he slides his palm across the boy's face with a serious look on his face.

"wake up, fukuo. i won't tell you this again," toji mutters out, "three."

oh, god. the countdown was every kid's nightmare, "two," including fukuo's — shown by how the young boy immediately sat up on his bed, "apologize to your mother."

fukuo furrowed his brows, "why?"

"you don't tell her to shut up. apologize." you were just there silently, a little shocked at how toji had become so serious when he's usually so laid-back with the boys, "say sorry and eat your breakfast."

fukuo swallows his saliva nervously and scoots over to you, "'m sorry for telling you to shut up mama, i promise i won't do that again . . ." he whispers, throwing his short arms around your neck — burying his face into the crook of your neck.

you pulled him close, carrying the young boy in your arms, "'ts okay baby, no more telling people to shut up, okay? 's not nice, it'll hurt people's feelings."

"okay mama . . . 'm sorry for hurting your feelings," fukuo pulls back slightly, pressing a chaste kiss on your cheek before facing toji, "'m sorry for hurting mama's feelings, papa."

toji placed his palm over the boy's face, covering it entirely, a sheepish smirk plastered on his lips, "go brush y'r teeth and eat your breakfast, mama made some pancakes."

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎

nanami is such a girl dad. ever since he found out that both of you were going to have a baby girl, he's delighted. just knowing that he'd have a mini version of the both of you made his stomach churn in happiness.

hoshi. nanami hoshi is her name. it was a very peaceful six years of raising her — but they said there will be a devil baby phase, and here she was. whining, throwing tantrums over things she didn't get. it was honestly tiring, but you knew this was a risk of raising a child.

"hoshi, baby, please stand up." you cooed down at the girl who was lying down on the ground. in the middle of a mall, "mama and papa will buy that toy for you next time, i promise."

nanami was by your side, holding onto the baby stroller. his eyes were unreadable, you don't know what he had in mind, but the look he peered at your daughter was plainly and eerily terrifying.

yes, there are moments where he spoils hoshi with what she wants. toys, food, drinks, you name it. but there are times where he declines because he didn't want her to grow up too spoiled, "i wan' that toy, mama!"

you inhaled sharply, trying to slide your hand underneath her armpits to pick her up, but hoshi refused by kicking your hands away. her little kicks barely scratched you — but the people looking at your small family as they passed by definitely got a little kick to you.

"baby, people are looking at you . . ." you whispered.

"i don't care, shut up, mama!"

that was the last straw for nanami who had been silent. he grabbed your arm and tugged you up gently, nodding at you as if telling you to leave this one to him.

you backed away slightly, taking a hold of the stroller nanami had let go a few seconds prior as he squats down. forcefully but gently slipping his hands underneath hoshi's armpits, carrying her into his arms.

"mama said we will buy that toy for you next time, okay?" he sternly said, eyeing his little girl who was now silent as she gazed into his eyes, "and you never. never tell mama to shut up, do you understand?"

hoshi nods her head slowly, lips quivering at her father's sudden lecture, nanami's eyes visibly softened and he rocked her in his arms, "papa's not angry at you, hoshi. but papa wants you to know that telling mama to shut up is not polite, okay?"

again hoshi nods her head.

"go and say that you're sorry to mama," he pecked her chubby cheeks before letting her down onto the ground.

hoshi's little legs ran towards you, hugging your leg, "'m so sorry mama," she muffles into your leg, "i don't want the toy anymore, mama. 'm sorry for being a bad girl."

you squat down, nuzzling your nose to her, "you're not a bad girl, baby . . . mama and papa will buy you that next time, okay? we promise."

"okay, mama. i love you."

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tonycries · 7 months

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Men In Uniform Do It Best!

Dirty Lil' Secrets

A Picture Lasts Long (But Not As Long As That D*ck)

I'm Addicted, I Admit It!

Give Me Tough Love

Never Ever Seen This Before!

We Don't Have No Babies!

Like A Fever

Bad Things (To You)

Prettier When Messy!

Care For You!

Green-eyed Monster

So Lonely In My Mansion!

Kiss Me More!

Girl, I Do This Often

Cause, I Love Freaks!

Sl*t Me Out!

Match My Freak!

WAP!

R U Mine?

Hot To Go!

Girl, You Earned It!

I'm A BIG Stepper!

BODY-ODY!

SOOO ANXIOUS

Long Overdue!

THIS P*SSY DEPRESSED!

The Family Matter?!

I-T G-I-R-L!

I Lasted Ten Rounds!

BRAT!

ONE-SHOTS

Three's a Crowd (But Four...) — “So, are they like holograms? Or can you really touch them?” “Why? Trynna cop a feel, sweetheart?” In which you and your boyfriend find very unconventional uses for his powers.

Why Can't I Keep My Fingers Off You? [Part 1] [Part 2] — There were two things missing in the scene in front of you: 1. The aphrodisiac chocolate your friends had given as a gag gift last Christmas that had been hidden away in the back of your refrigerator. 2. Your dear fiancé.

Dream A Little Dream — For the strongest, it was a privilege to dream. Especially when his dream is you.

Initiation! — “Just a small initiation, nothing too serious.” Couldn’t be too hard, right? So why are you - the all-new frat sweetheart - being pinned to the bed and stuffed full from all ends by your frat brothers?

One More? Please? — A kiss always solves everything! But when a kiss turns into something more…well, it’s only a desperate attempt to unseal yourselves from this damned prison realm, right? Right?

Everybody Knows That I'm a Good Girl, Officers... — You don’t know what’s faster - how fast you were speeding down the highway, or how fast you’re on your knees for the hot officers that just so happen to pull you over.

Hope They Catch Us — When you’re on-screen, it’s always a rivalry to see who’s best - you just never thought that it would be the same struggle in bed.

Unmistakably Yours — In which the strongest bends space and time - literally - after coming back from deatḣ, to do what he’s always wanted to do - you.

Madam Gojo — Gojo Satoru, the strongest clan leader in all of Japan - and the most dangerous, too. You, rejected by the elders, and totally not his future bride, right? Right?

Can't Touch Me (Like Gojo) — In which intentionally making your fríend-with-benefíts jealous ends up with more benefits than you’d think.

The Heir — No, your clan leader husband won’t stop until he gives you an heir. No, you don’t think you’ll make it out alive.

LONGFICS

The Call — After an explosive fight with your boyfriend, you really should feel sorry about being swept up by the blue-eyed stranger at the club - but it’s so hard when he kisses you like that.

Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy — He knows that you would be one of his favorite stories from his travels. And you know that you want nothing more than to stay by his side. After meeting an alluring cowboy at Ol’ Rustcliffe Saloon, both of you are sure of one thing - this must be fate.

Go For It, Gojo! [Part 1] [Part 2] — You wouldn’t fuck Gojo Satoru even if you were paid…is what you thought exactly five minutes before you were shoved against the wall of this cramped closet, his face stuffed in your soaked panties.

Unhoneymooners!? — The universe was surely playing a joke on you. Here you were, trapped on a luxury getaway with your - dangerously handsome, extremely obnoxious - ex. Either you were going to kill each other or end up pinned beneath him, split apart on his cóck. You just didn’t know what would come first.

AITA For F*cking My Sugar Daddy's Son?! — When your sugar daddy just isn’t paying attention to you, can you really be blamed for fúcking his son? Especially when his son is absolutely obsessed with you.

Bad Boys Bring Roses — You’ve never dealt with the yakuza - not once. So why is the future head of the Gojo clan suddenly coming up to you, demanding that you marry him for 30 days?

The Way You Kiss Me — The four times Satoru tries really hard not to kiss you - his best friend’s pretty younger sister. And the one time he doesn’t.

Isn't That Sweet? (I Guess So) — Oh no! Why do your pantíes keep disappearing? Well, maybe your hot roommate knows the answer…

Haunting You — A bIoody trail of vampire attácks, a political marriage, and four suitors you’re forced to choose from - all haunting you. But none as much as the mysterious stranger that makes everything in you scream that you might just be fated for the very thing your kingdom is trying to escape from.

You'll Taste Me Too! — How do you last three days on a work trip with the man you hate the most in the office? You don’t - you end up pinned underneath him, instead.

We Neva Play! — Turns out, the “r” in rivals stands for “really good séx” when a mission becomes a little too hot to handle.

ONE-SHOTS

Like An Animal — Of course Toji doesn’t want any more kids. Of course he’s lying as he stuffs your pretty cúnt full of his cúm for the third time tonight.

Whiskey, Neat, With a Side of You — When your date stands you up, you’re lucky that the hot bartender is more than happy to keep you company!

F*ck You! (Literally) — Of course, you hated your ex-husband. Of course, you found yourself in bed with him on your wedding anniversary.

LONGFICS

Government Hooker — With the fame and glory of being an international popstar comes the inevitable threat of an overzealous stalker. You just didn’t think that it would also come with a very sexy, buff bodyguard behind your every move.

Madam Zenin — There’s nothing that rouses Toji, the infamous head of the Zenin clan, nothing that will make him lose control - until they take what’s most important to him. You.

ONE-SHOTS

Brooklyn Baby — Everybody wanted to fuck Suguru Geto, lead bassist of Tokyo Special Grades. Said Suguru doesn’t want to fuck anyone else but you. He couldn’t give less of a fuck if anyone walked in right now. In fact, a small part of him wishes someone would.

Golden Boy — Falling right back in love with the cult leader you’re supposed to kíll? Happens more often than you’d think.

LONGFICS

ONE-SHOTS

A Million Dollar Baby! — Turns out, rent can be paid in much more than one way.

LONGFICS

ONE-SHOTS

Welcome To The Itadori's! — Three times Choso really, really wanted to hold you without his family barging in, and the one time he actually does.

FIVE! — Five hours - it’s all it takes for Choso’s baby fever to take over. After all, you’d look so pretty with his kid - five of them, in fact.

LONGFICS

Great With Kids? (You Can Have Mine) — When your younger brother gets a new babysitter, only two questions linger on your mind: 1. How come your parents didn’t trust you in charge? 2. How dare the sexy babysitter be so perfect - it made you want some attention too.

Freak On The Cam! — Choso always loved watching you - his pretty lil’ camgírl - from behind the screen. Who knew he’d love being on-screen with you even more?

ONE-SHOTS

Can't Touch Me (Like Gojo) — In which intentionally making your fríend-with-benefíts jealous ends up with more benefits than you’d think.

LONGFICS

Exes who...

Love Is Blind

“She My Best Friend, Yeah We Not a Couple.”

Wanna Do Bad Things To You

I Wanna Get Freaky On Camera

Lemme Ride, Baby!

Can I Fill You Up, Baby?

"Pull On It. Harder."

Little Heaven

#masterlist #jjk masterlist #jjk x reader #tonynavi

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bwabys-scenarios · 2 months

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NSFW

Gojo Satoru can be a bit… overprotective sometimes.

And when you become pregnant with his child, sometimes turns into all the time, and a bit becomes overwhelmingly so.

“Did you take your vitamins, sweetheart?”

You rubbed your temple as your husband hugged you from behind, placing his hand on your belly.

“Satoru, for the last time, I took it this morning.”

Even though you couldn’t see his pout, you could hear it in his voice. “Hmph… well, I just noticed you’ve been a bit lethargic today… was just worried for my baby…”

You barely held yourself back from rolling your eyes, an amused smile on your face. “Love, I’m lethargic because I’m carrying a big baby in my belly. Now go pick me up some more ice cream.”

For your entire pregnancy, he had been at your beck and call. Of course before he did anything you wanted, but now he waited on you hand and foot, always ready to take care of his beloved wife.

“Your feet are all swollen again…”

He massaged your ankles and heels as you scrolled on your phone, giving you a look. “If you don’t keep overexerting yourself, I’m going to chain you to the bed.”

You knew it was a joke… probably.

“Okay… I’ll try, but it’s hard not being able to do anything, you know? I hate sitting around all day.”

He frowned, shifting to pull you into his lap. When you felt his bulge against your ass, your cheeks heated up.

“How about I make sitting more fun?”

You bit back a moan as you settled into his cock, his finger rubbing circles into your clit. Watching your fat pussy swallow his cock had to be one of the best things he’d ever seen.

“There’s my girl… see, sitting around ain’t so bad, is it?”

He guided your hips back and forth, peppering kisses along your neck as his cock twitched inside of you. It was all he could do to hold himself back from fucking into you like an animal.

“‘T-toru… too much…”

Your whines made him smirk, one of his free hands moving up to your swollen, heavy breasts. “Shh, just keep being my good girl. Gotta make my pregnant wife cum, it’ll help you relax.”

Satoru sucked on your neck, leaning hickeys and soft bites on your neck. His hands shifted to hold onto your baby bump while you bounced on his cock lightly.

“I love you…”

As he neared his peak, he took control again, losing his mind a bit as he rammed his cock into you. Being the strongest meant having to control that strength, but god was it hard when his wife was crying out that you was about to cum.

He painted your walls white, continuing to thrust up into you while he came down from his high, breathing against your neck. You melted, laying in his lap lazily as he attempted to pull out.

“N-no… stay…”

Your whine caught him off guard, but who was he to deny his pregnant wife? It just felt so good to be so full, to have your husband’s cock twitching inside of you as he held you close and kissed your head.

What more could you want?

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ladysharmaa · 5 months

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Kate mini version

Anthony Bridgerton x Kate Sharma x Sharma!sis

Summary: Y/n adapted to the Bridgerton family dynamic. However, she remains a little fearful and shy. Could the arrival of a prince change that?

part 1 part 2 part 3

Ever since Kate and Anthony assured Y/n that they wanted her to live with them, things had gotten better. The girl felt more comfortable with them, and appreciated the effort the couple made to show that she was always welcome. Riding horses for the three of them was an almost regular activity now, and these afternoons were Y/n's favorite.

Anthony had given her a beautiful black mare, which she insisted on learning to wash and comb, even though there were servants for that purpose. The man then spent the rest of the month teaching her how to ride, and this was something that brought her very close to Anthony, who she now considered like a brother.

The truth was, living with her older sister and her husband was wonderful. There was never a dull moment and she always had someone to talk to. Furthermore, the relationship between her and Kate was the strongest, and they were more inseparable than ever. Y/n's mother had agreed that her daughter would stay at Viscount's house for a while and thus extended her stay in India.

However, even though she was comfortable in that smaller core, she still felt shy around Anthony's siblings. She loved them all, and they always treated her equally, but in the back of her head there was always that thought that she was intruding.

Now, the Bridgerton family plus Y/n were on their way to the park to have a picnic. The season was starting again and suitors from all over the world were arriving to try to find someone. On the way there, Y/n entertained herself by listening to Eloise's grumbling that she would be entering the season again, even if the last thing she wanted was to find a husband.

Bridgerton had made a point of giving Y/n her feminist speech, and despite the eye rolls she received from some of her siblings, Y/n agreed with everything she said. However, she always wanted to be married to a man who truly loved her, and that wasn't going to change.

It was a sunny day, perfect for staying right by the lake and enjoying the delicious food that the maids had prepared. Anthony and Kate were in their own world, whispering to each other with gigantic smiles, Benedict and Collin were appreciating the ladies passing by, and Eloise was reading her book while Violet had met Lady Danbury and the two were chatting animatedly. Daphne and Simon hadn't arrived with their son yet, but Y/n couldn't wait to play with the baby again.

Meanwhile, she, Hyacinth, Gregory and Francesca were walking around the lake, picking up rocks and seeing who could throw them the furthest. Probably not the most etiquette thing they could do, but Violet and Anthony hadn't stopped them yet so they continued.

"I'm starting to get tired." Y/n grumbled, rolling the shoulder of her arm that was starting to feel sore from throwing so many rocks. "I think I'll sit down and get some sun."

"We'll be right there and keep you company then. I just need to beat Gregory first!" Hyacinth promised.

Y/n smiled towards the three, then heading towards the lawn where the others were. She momentarily looked down, seeing that she had gotten a little dirty on her dress when she went up against someone. The force of the impact had been so great that she lost her balance and began to fall backwards. However, this never happened because someone managed to grab her arms and pull her up again.

When she opened her eyes, having closed them in preparation for the fall, she saw a young man, around her age, looking worriedly at her. "Are you alright? My apologies, Miss, I was distracted and didn't see you."

"I'm okay." she said a little breathlessly. Their proximity didn't help either. "I'm the one who apologizes. I should be looking ahead instead of at my dress."

"It is a beautiful dress." he said, taking the opportunity to look her up and down, letting a small smile form on his lips. Y/n's cheeks immediately started to turn pinker. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss…"

"Sharma." Y/n smiled. "I'm sorry, I don't recall who you are."

"Prince Charles, the youngest son of Queen Charlotte and King George." he chuckled when he saw Y/n's wide eyes, who quickly made a small bow. "Please, that's not necessary. On top of that, I was the one who almost made you fall to the ground."

"My apologies, Prince Charles. I returned from India only a few months ago and it seems that I still don't know everything I should know. This mistake will not be repeated."

"It wasn't anything serious. To be honest, I'm actually glad you didn't immediately know who I was. I went against you because I was running away from an Earl's daughters who were begging me to marry them." A silence fell over them. "Who are you here with?"

"My sister and her husband's family. Viscount Anthony Bridgerton and Viscountess Kate Bridgerton." Y/n looked over his shoulder, seeing Anthony staring in her direction, more specifically at the Prince. He was about to get up when Kate pulled him down again, sending Y/n a smile and a wink. "They're looking at us right now."

"Of course, I know who they are. My mother loved the love story between them. Since then, she has only told my older siblings that she wants them to have something like that too. But they are not very interested in getting married, much to the Queen's disappointment."

Y/n just let out a small chuckle in response, not really knowing what to say. The proximity to the prince was becoming increasingly intimidating, and it didn't help that the entire Bridgerton family had noticed that interaction and were now observing discreetly.

"I apologize, Prince Charles, but I must return to my sister's family. We came to take advantage of this beautiful day to have a picnic."

"Of course, Miss Sharma. I hope to see you again soon." he nodded with his hands clasped behind his back. With a smile, he went back on his way while Y/n walked over to where Kate and Anthony were, her cheeks painted a light pink.

"What were you talking about?" Anthony questioned without being able to control himself any longer, his half-closed eyes still focused on the back of the boy walking in the distance.

Kate rolled her eyes at Anthony's exaggerated protectiveness, but the truth is that her heart started to beat faster when she saw how Anthony had so much care and affection for Y/n. It made her imagine how protective he would be of their daughters.

"Don't pay attention to Anthony, Y/n. The prince seemed very interested in talking to you. You should have gone for a walk together."

"Sister!" the younger girl exclaimed with wide eyes, becoming even more embarrassed. "He was just apologizing for going against me."

"That boy, prince or not, should look where he is going! Irresponsible, that's what he is!" Anthony continued to mumble, ignoring the look his wife sent him.

"Well, I am delighted that you made a new friend, Y/n. Now come sit with us for a while and drink some water, it's very hot."

"You're getting worse than mother." Y/n rolled her eyes in amusement. She added with a wink, "I guess it's a good training for the future."

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

"I do not want to go." Y/n stated, crossing her arms defiantly.

"Sister, we've already had this conversation." Kate repeated for the thousandth time, but still with the same patience as the first time. The older woman sighed, looking understandingly at her sister who was looking at the floor with a pout. "What are you really afraid of? It's your first ball, it's normal for you to be nervous."

Y/n was going to be subject to the season for the first time, where she could meet her future husband. Despite all the nerves she felt, she was happy to have Kate, Anthony, and the rest of the Bridgerton family with her. Furthermore, she would be in the same situation as Francesca, except that the latter had been named diamond of the season.

"How's mother and Edwina?" Y/n tried to change the subject, instead asking about the two other Sharmas who were in Prussia. Edwina was pregnant with her first child with Prince Friedrich and Mary had gone there, after a brief stop in England, to support Edwina.

"Y/n, don't change the subject. You can talk to me."

"What if no one asks me to dance, Kate?" Y/n finally revealed her fears shyly. She spoke so quietly that Kate had to strain to understand her words, but when she did her eyebrows furrowed in sadness. "You and Anthony took me in, what if now no one asks me to dance and I make you look bad?"

"First of all, you could never make us look bad and we would never be disappointed in you. I even think Anthony's biggest dream would be if you and Francesca didn't dance with anyone." Kate chuckled knowing how protective her husband was. "And I don't want you to be forced to dance with anyone. You can say no if someone invites you to dance and you don't want to. And if anything happens, call Anthony or his brothers."

"I will." the girl nodded, seeing her sister's serious look. "I hope everything goes well."

"Of course it will! And you won't be alone, we'll all be there in case you need anything. And who knows, maybe you'll see a certain prince. I heard the queen is going to make him participate in this season."

Y/n didn't respond to the teasing, she just continued to get ready with the help of the maids. When Anthony called them from downstairs, the two sisters hurried to meet him, seeing that the rest of the family was already there with the exception of Francesca.

When they saw her, a big smile appeared on everyone's faces, Violet going to give her a hug as soon as she reached the end of the stairs and Daphne holding her hand. "You look beautiful."

"Thank you." she smiled at the women, and was later praised by Eloise, and the Bridgerton brothers.

Then, it was Francesca's turn to go down the stairs, catching their attention. After the compliments she received, the girl stood next to Y/n, the two holding hands as they walked to the carriages waiting for them.

"You look very beautiful, diamond of the season." Y/n said with a teasing smile, squeezing her hand in Francesca's in comfort.

"You do as well, Princess Sharma." Francesca giggled. To relieve the tension, the girl looked straight ahead at Anthony who was helping Kate into the carriage, his forehead dripping with sweat as he looked discreetly at the two teenagers. "I think my brother is going to pass out from how nervous he looks."

"Tonight promises to be quite interesting. At least he has my sister to control him a little, or I think he would be glaring at every suitor in the room, even if they didn't even want anything to do with us."

When they arrived at the Queen's castle, they were both amazed by the place. An orchestra played in the middle while some couples were already dancing, the space decorated with various details and chandeliers lighting up the room. When the Bridgerton family entered, everyone stopped to observe the diamond of the season, who was still clinging to Y/n.

To give her the focus of attention, Y/n tried to move away but Francesca just grabbed her hand tighter, sending her a look of fear. The Sharma girl nodded in understanding, then stood on Francesca's side, also being subjected to the curious looks of other people.

"Come on, girls." Anthony said, guiding the family to a corner while everyone analyzed the environment. He then turned to his two friends, who in his eyes were too young to be thinking about suitors, but he knew that this was the right age. "If you need anything, and I mean anything, go to one of us. We'll always be here to make sure you're okay. Now, all of you split up and socialize."

"They already look so nervous and you're going to scare them even more with your nerves." Benedict placed a hand on his older brother's shoulder. "Relax, brother. Go dance with your wife, we are also here to take care of them."

"I know." Anthony sighed, running a hand over his face. His tense muscles only relaxed when he felt Kate's hand caress his arm as she smiled understandingly. "Shall we dance, Viscountess Bridgerton?"

"We shall." she giggled, letting her husband guide her to the center of the room.

Meanwhile, Y/n watched the people at the ball nervously and curiously. They were all dressed to the nines, with the best fabrics and jewelry that showed the families' wealth and status. The Sharma smiled slightly when she noticed a girl being asked by a suitor. It was obvious that they were both nervous, but when he finally managed to ask the question, the girl blushed and accepted with a big smile.

Y/n sighed, turning her attention elsewhere. Her heart was beating heavily against her chest, wondering if she was going to experience the same situation as that girl.

A light touch on her shoulder made her snap out of her thoughts. Y/n turned to the side, her eyes widening when she saw Prince Charles standing there, both hands behind his back and a perfect smirk on his lips.

"Miss Sharma, what a pleasure to see you again."

"Prince Charles." she greeted, making a small bow. "This time I haven't forgotten my manners."

"I must say you look beautiful tonight." he praised, gently taking one of her delicate hands and bringing it to his lips, lightly kissing her skin. Y/n's cheeks immediately flushed, getting worse when she realized that they were attracting the attention of others. "Are you enjoying the ball?"

"Very much, thank you. The orchestra plays beautifully. It's lovely to see so many people dancing, especially my sister and Viscount Bridgerton. I have never seen them happier."

"Indeed. We could dance too… If you would like to, of course." Y/n didn't think she had ever seen the boy being shy, but she had to admit that it was really cute to see him like that.

"Are you sure? Many people are already looking at us… Including the Queen." she whispered the last part with a look of fear. "Are you supposed to find a lady to marry this year?"

"My mother hopes so, but she doesn't pressure me into anything. Right now, I just want to dance with you. Please? Don't pay attention to anyone else, just focus on me."

Y/n swallowed hard, but nodded, resting her hand on the arm Charles offered. The two walked to the dance floor as soon as the song ended, preparing for a new melody. The Sharma girl held her breath when she felt the boy's hand position itself on her waist, pulling her closer, while the other intertwined with hers.

The music started slowly and Y/n let the prince lead her, too nervous to even remember the choreography she had already practiced several times before. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Kate and Anthony looking at them as they danced, giving nods of encouragement but still keeping their attention on them.

The rest of the people looked in shock, seeing the youngest son of the Queen and the King dancing with the sister of Viscountess Bridgerton who had caused a lot of talk last season. The Queen was also watching them, a small smile appearing on her lips.

"You're not just focusing on me." Charles hummed, squeezing her waist to show she was just joking. "And on top of that I'm a great dancer."

"My apologies. But I can't agree with the last part. I think —" but she couldn't finish her sentence as Charles picked her up and twirled her around several times until her laughter could be heard above the music.

"Sorry, what were you saying?" he laughed teasingly, loving the blush on her cheeks. He wanted to make her blush all the time, he loved the effect he had on the girl who was constantly on his mind since that day in the park.

"Prince Charles, this will certainly not be seen very well by other people. They are all whispering about us now! More than they already were."

"Call me Charles." He said, ignoring the rest of what Y/n said. His eyes were intense, studying the girl's face and stopping on her lips before moving up to her eyes.

"No."

"No?" he raised his eyebrows, as if he wasn't expecting that answer. Y/n stepped away from him, making a small bow. And only then did he realize that the song had already ended.

"I really enjoyed this dance, thank you. I hope to meet you again. We keep crossing paths so who knows?" she smiled, turning her back and walking towards Francesca who was alone in the corner, a drink in her hand.

Prince Charles definitely wanted to see Y/n Sharma again, his gaze following the girl's movements as if in a trance. Surely him standing in the middle of the dance floor looking at Y/n would be the main topic in the paper of Lady Whistledown.

#anthony bridgerton #bridgerton #bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton x reader #collin bridgerton #daphne bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x you #bridgerton x reader #eloise bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #kate sharma x reader #kate sharma

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vagabond-umlaut · 5 months

Text

you kiss the back of my legs and i want to cry

only the sun has come this close, only the sun

gojo satoru x wife!reader; tooth-rotting domestic fluff; gojo LOVERBOY™️ satoru; you aren't any better than him [but less poetic abt the predicament]; tw: pregnancy, 1 tiny mention of throwing up; satoru calls you 'cookie'; and he redefines the word besotted here; his thoughts are also a little yandere-ish but tht's cute, methinks; 2.3k wc; i just wish satoru was real and in my arms rn T-T

belongs to the series 'you make my heart flutter and fibrillate' but can be read as a stand-alone fic if you wanna

the fic title and summary don't rly hv a very strong connection to the fic plot— except the fact they fit both satoru's & reader's characters in this series to a tee ^_^

fic title and summary from 'gps' by shauna barbosa // header frm pinterest // divider by @/benkeibear // jjk isn't mine

you are clingy.

always have been, in fact, now that gojo thinks about it. long before the two of you were married. long before you were engaged. quite a long time before the two of you were anything apart from friends at best, acquaintances at worst.

yet now, as he feels a pair of arms squeeze tighter around his middle, not really still very much squeezing the air out of him— your husband reckons you've grown loads clingier now—

and he loves you for this. loving you even more when he feels kisses being pressed into the space between his shoulder blades.

soft lips, a tad chapped. not without the shy grazing of your teeth.

just how he likes it.

very much how he adores you.

affection, settled deeper than should be feasible into the hollow of his chest, flutters a little when you nuzzle into his back; that pleased little hum of yours quick to follow it. smiling, gojo turns his head a touch to catch a glimpse of you. it takes a beat before you remove your face to lock eyes with him, before returning your face to his back.

he huffs a chuckle, sounding incredibly fond all the same. his feelings for you can never be suppressed anyway. time has proved this to him enough number of times.

he runs a finger down the length of your arm, relishing how it leaves a line of goosebumps in its wake—

"you wanna tell me something, cookie?" your husband finally asks.

your reply doesn't come immediately. and when it does, it is nothing more than a noncommittal noise. too spoiled. too stubborn. a bit too satisfied as well, the emotion further expressed when you nuzzle his back yet again.

gojo's smile grows bigger. his cheeks hurt a little.

he thinks he can live forever with this kind of pain, not even a sigh of complaint ever leaving him.

"aha—" he exclaims loudly, still soft enough to keep the quiet of this sweet bubble you've pulled you both into, "so it's just my irresistible charm that's making you so clingy tonight, hm?"

another beat passes.

and just when he thinks he might have to do with another one of your indistinct sounds for an answer, you speak. to be more precise, whine and grumble, everything so sweet in your adorable voice.

"it's not me being clingy, 'toru— it's the baby— the baby is making me so clingy. making me feel as if i can't live even for one second without squishing you like thisss!!!"

the first reaction your tightening grasp brings out is the wind getting knocked out of his lungs— the second reaction being all that oxygen, nitrogen and carbon dioxide being replaced by a feeling so fierce and so tender— the strongest thinks his knees would have buckled under its weight had he not been lying down but standing—

not that he really minds that, though.

for you, he's always on his knees. whether you ask it of him or not. the only light in this world he is willing to bow his eyes before.

it takes him not too much effort but gojo makes a point of struggling whilst he shifts in your hold. and grins when he finally comes face-to-face with you, drinking in the way your brows are puckered and lips a little parted in an incredulous expression.

his grin simmers down however, when his six eyes notice the spark in your tummy. so tiny. so blinding. so priceless— to him and you both— he knows this, surer than he is of the scars on his palms.

thumbing the hem of your t-shirt, he hums, dragging his eyes back to be drowned in yours, "how many weeks along are you, wifey?"

"satoru," you start, voice turning sharper and just as skeptical as your face was, still is— only to be shushed by a finger to your lips. the man addressed feels his heart skip a beat at your confused big scowl— it's got to be a crime to be as cute as you— really!!!

he pinches your cheek lightly.

"it isn't like i don't remember that, cookie. i just wanted you to say it— c'mon, tell me quickly!" he presses, noting then utilising the moment your face begins to lose its cynical hue over his words.

the scowl lingers there however, twisting your delectably pretty lips—

"nine weeks," you say, hooking a leg over his waist to pull him closer. can he be any closer to you, though? your answer is always a yes, he knows you well enough to know this.

"thirty-one weeks more before we meet our baby."

it's not exactly thirty-one weeks; it's thirty weeks and five days before either of you can meet the baby, but gojo decides not to point out the error. you always hate it when he points out your tiny errors and make a point of snarking about it every time he opens his mouth to speak a word next— the man is wary not to upset his wife, yes, thank you very much.

he offers a sage "hm" in response, one he observes you accept slowly. the scowl lifts itself into a curve so fond— gojo thinks once before he vaults his next query your way. not wanting to see that smile vanish in front of him—

the ask won't cause anything so. but he can never be too sure. he has read too many books and articles to not grasp how fragile pregnancy hormones can make one be.

he tucks a strand of hair behind the shell of your ear.

fingers tarrying there when he sees you lean into his touch— not akin a moth to a bright flame, no. he can never hurt you. not even for once in his wildest dreams—

but how the north pole of a magnet hurries towards the south pole of another magnet. so different in their nature, a perfect pair of opposite crafted by the nature— maybe that's why nothing can ever stop them from rushing to each other once they're proximated, the lines of their mutual attraction existing even when thousands of miles apart.

just like you and him.

contrasting, complementing, completing each other every instant, in every facet of life.

he lets his fingers dance through the tangles in your hair, unravelling the knots in there. that pleased little hum of yours reaches him once again.

stowing the sound away, later to be placed on a pedestal in an ornate glass case as the most valuable praise ever given to him for his effort, he runs a gentle hand, nails scratching your scalp carefully.

"and at nine weeks old, just how big might our baby be?"

"i think there is a chart comparing our baby's size to fruits..." syllables unhurried and a pinch mumbled, you press your heel to draw him in a little more. "i did not really read that too attentively— oh. but. yeah!" a grin forms on your features, sleepy still twinkling in excitement.

"shoko sent me a link to this website earlier today— any ideas, 'toru, what it might be about?"

gojo does have an idea. he has a very, very good idea.

but he chooses not to say that aloud. you look so extremely adorable when you are being this excited. he would hate nothing more than to see your amped up self getting interrupted by him.

he shakes his head. your grin brightens. eyes crinkling with a glint, he can tell even without looking, is knowing.

the tips of your fingers caress his bare back, softer than a breath. "it's about when our baby forms which organs— our baby's eyes are being formed now!!! isn't that too cute, 'toru?"

"it is, cookie," he hums without any hesitation, six eyes activating one more time to zero in on that teeny-tiny spark. then deactivating when he looks back up to your sleepy eyes. a terribly tickled, equally wicked glimmer creeps into his grin. "so our baby is just like a tiny ball of cells with two big blue eyes, huh? they must look so scary, heh— ouch!"

your pinch did not really pain him, but gojo does his best to mimic an awfully wounded puppy, sogging wet from the rain and waiting at the doorstep with his moving blue eyes— it takes less than three seconds before you let go of your glare with a sigh.

you massaging the sore spot on his arm, your husband watches you give yet another sigh.

"first of all, there's no guarantee our baby will have your eye color and not mine, 'toru," you explain, pinning him under your drowsy stare, "it is very difficult to predict that for sure— and secondly: i'll punch you if you ever call our baby scary— sure, they don't really look like a human in this moment, but they'll slowly get there in forty weeks— as per the website, their face, hands and feet are forming in the ninth—"

"okay, alright!! i get your point, my insanely smart, insanely beautiful, insanely sexy wife," gojo cuts in, smiling while warning bells chime in his head at the faintest gloss in your eyes—

but maybe they weren't noisy enough. that is why he doesn't bite his tongue, rather continuing, "but you weren't actually blaming our poor human-ey baby for your clinginess, were you? it's not like they have a telepathic communication set up with you— hell, maybe they haven't even started forming their brain!"

"the baby's brain starts forming by the fifth week, satoru," your quiet reply reaches him exactly when he gets his last giggle out. the moist sheen in your eyes grows more prominent.

and his insides begin to twist—

one-third helpless. two-thirds contrite.

you don't stop talking, tone lower than he has heard you use in nearly forever, "and you better not comment on my bond with our baby— i'll punch you twice if you—"

"i wasn't doing that and i promise to never make you feel that way, my cutie-pie cookie," gojo interrupts, voice far gentler than earlier, just as low as yours, "but feel free to throw me out the house if i ever do that, even accidentally. okay?"

you're not okay.

you never are, when it comes to you being actually harsh to him, even when he's the one asking you to be— shakespeare once called love to be blind— your husband doesn't think you're blind, however. it is your well-contemplated decision to see his mistakes and see each of them as excusable, perfectly pardonable, no matter how silly or serious the world might regard them to be—

you make a noise. somewhat annoyed. unhappy too, yeah. before you push your face into the crook of his neck, nose nuzzling into the flesh there.

you would have bitten him by now. but he reckons you might be a bit too tired for all that. you couldn't even finish your dinner before facing the urge to throw up tonight, yet again.

feeling sorry, almost, gojo resumes his ministrations to your hair, half because you need to fall asleep now; the hands on the clock are close to striking midnight. the other half because he just loves playing with your hair— only to still when you suddenly pull your head back.

brows furrowed as you peer at him, eyes big and earnest.

"you don't really mind when i hug you like this, do you, 'toru?"

"no, cookie!! of course not!!" the man wastes not even a breath before he rushes to explain— because seriously, what!??

sure, he wasn't the first one to fall between you two. but ever since he did fall, he has never not expressed how every second away from you, every fraction of an instant away from you, causes him pain.

and yeah, he might have been a tad too dramatic whilst doing so, but you've always been so good at reading him— then why on earth can't you read him now? why don't you read, he loves it when you seek him out, he loves you more than anyone and anything else??

"good," your satisfied little chirp gives him a light shove away from his frantic thoughts. something tells him he should be put on alert by the way your lips curve into a smug smile next.

but gojo finds himself uncaring. just immensely relieved as he trails his fingers from the back of your head to your chin. thumb reaching out to brush the corner of your infectious smile. you continue.

"but even if you did mind, sorry not sorry— you were the one who put the ring on my finger, so you have to deal with everything i'm, mister!! no refunds nor complaints can be filed here, gojo-san~"

and neither refunds nor complaints he wishes to file, satoru muses to himself as he cups your cheek in one hand. bending down to steal the taste of your beam, your tease, your love for him on his tongue—

not when he has received the world in exchange for letting go of that poor splintered mess of a heart, he used to call his, but is now yours.

and will always stay yours—

"hey 'toru— what will you do if i chomp on your fingers right now, like really hard? will you yell? or will you be the freak that you're and enjoy it, huh?"

gojo pauses.

and wonders.

is there any binding vow one can make to secure oneself to another in every lifetime, for all eternity?

he hopes there is.

your husband really, seriously hopes there is—

'cause no way in heaven, earth or hell, does gojo satoru want to let go of you— and he will not let go of you.

this idea was ROTTING in my brain for ages, but wht gave me the spark– the boost to write this was the wonderful sukuna fic written by ari @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat ❤️❤️❤️ i seriously love u & ur writings sm, babes 🥹🥹 everyone pls go check their masterlist out. it's studded w diamonds and pearls 😌😌🥰

and this is also for my sweet & sour bestie mimi @avatarofstars 🤭🤭— u 🤝 me in being clingy af towards our fictional hubbies 😂😂🥰

hope this was an enjoyable read! pls don't plagiarise, translate or repost this ❤️❤️

masterlist

#gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x you #gojo x reader #jjk x you #jjk x reader #kit posts 📝

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evilminji · 5 months

Text

Okay, so maybe it's just me? Projecting my new Tea Phase?

Cause for med reasons, no more energy drinks, only Teeeeeeaaaaa~☆

But honestly? Now that I am an adult and ACTUALLY KNOW HOW TO MAKE IT? Really digging it! Am enjoying the Teas. Mmmmmmm~ leaf broth. I like the fruity ones.

So! IMAGINE~☆ If you will:

Danny. 14 and his parents are LOUD AS FUCK (CRASH BANG SMASH BANG WHIIII-) dispite it being, once again, a school night. This has been going one For Years. That STUPID fucking machine. All God damned hours. Crashes and bangs and powertools. Explosions.

When will it ever end!

He's... he's honestly used it.

Unknowingly? This is is a skill that will come in handy later. Living and functioning while sleep deprived. Healthy? Fuck no. But it's USEFUL. He IS the ten year old downing Monster drinks in the parking lot before school.

It makes him a jittery weirdo. Twitchy. Too much caffeine, not enough sleep, his parents either blew up or TOOK APART the washing machine AGAIN. He... he never stood a chance. It's a miracle the indoor plumbing hasn't been compromised yet... AGAIN.

His blood is more sugar, caffeine, and guarana or whatever those other things in the can are, then actual human blood. He doesn't CARE. He just needs too get decent grades, graduate, and become an astronaut. It's... it's FINE. This is normal. They're FINE.

(If they weren't... someone would have noticed, right? Would have DONE something. Cared. So it HAS to be fine. His family's just weird. It's FINE.)

But THEN...

The Accident.

And his biology CHANGES. Green goo, wrapped vicious and loving, around his very DNA. Like Kintsugi of the body and soul. In green, Green, GREEN. It... it's a lot. Everything changing all at once. Maybe that's why it takes him so long to notice.

Why he thinks "oh, I'm just tired cause I'm running more then usual. Fighting and flying. Doing ghost stuff."

When... when honestly? Some part of him always kinda KNEW. From the very moment he stumbled out of the portal. The aftershocks. The pain. Sam and Tucker crying, scrambling to help him up the stairs. Sam tearing her bag apart looking for her cramps medicine. Because... because pain medication is pain medication.

"It's gonna be okay, Danny. Please. Please god, just take it! I promise it's gonna be okay!"

How do you look your panicked, crying, strongest-person-you-know best friend in the eyes and tell her... you can FEEL it dissolving in your throat. Like the pills were dumped in a human shaped pot of acid. That... that the pain isn't changing... and you... you don't think it's going too.

When you're scared. Might be dying. And you can already tell they think it's their fault. W... when you're all just KIDS. And all you can think is... you can let them know how bad... how bad it hurts...

They'd never be able to live with that knowledge.

Yeah. Yeah, Sam. Thanks. T... The pills helped a lot. He feels better. You really saved the day. He lo... loves you guys so much.

...

.....

He thinks about that moment A LOT. About how much he realized and knew, before the denial kicked in. Before he got so... Tired. Fresh of all that energy. And? You'd think he realize. The mood swings. The irritability. The headaches that disappear the SECOND he goes ghost. That he's in caffeine withdrawal. But? Nope.

He kinda blames the constant ghost attacks for distracting him.

But see... Sam? Doesn't drink tea. Goes against her diet. Tucker was where he GOT his illicit borderline illegal energy drinks. And his sister? Big on flavored sparkling waters. Which are gross to him.

His PARENTS drink a thick tar they insist is coffee. It might be liquid fudge. Zone knows its nearly the same consistency. It's horrifying. No thanks, he wants to LIVE.

It's? Ironically? Mr. Lancer and his constant detentions, that help Danny realize somethings up. Because Mr. Lancer shares. If he makes a cup for himself, he'll make one for you. It's how he was raised. And, yeah, the after school detentions? Those were herbal blends. No caffeine.

But...

But they tasted nice. Were warm. The classroom was quiet and as frustrating as it was? The tea itself? Was always... the one exception to how shit the situation was. So Danny finally broke down and asked about it. Learned Mr. Lancer knew a? Surprisingly LOT about tea. Huh.

Then one day he gets SATURDAY detention. Oh joy!

Bright and early. One of the few times he could be trying, desperately, to be sleeping through his parents cacophony. Catching up on his desperately needed Zzz's. Here he is... getting a handed a new cup of different tea?

Breakfast blend? And a bagel..

N...none hostile breakfast? A quiet space to catch up on his homework? No Dash? Just... just a quiet classroom, some tea, and the sounds on a peaceful morning outside?

......oh.

It's the best time he's had in school in... God, in YEARS. He gets so MUCH done. For once can concentrate. And? Actually, now that he thinks about it? Feels... awake? Or at the very least, not as sleepy. And being a Fenton, whom to the LAST are a genius if eccentric family, it's pretty damn easy to put two and two together.

Tea.

He felt more awake after having Lancer's breakfast blend tea.

He obviously asks about it. Then, after detention is done. Calm packs up. Goes home. Drops his back in his room. Goes ghost. And SHOOTS for the Far Frozen with his phone and an energy drink. Because clearly he's missing something and it's time to ask.

The good doctors of the Frozen are... gently horrified. Clawed hands steeples infront of their mouths as they try to tactfully figure out how to word "Great One, WHAT THE FUCK!?!? Why would you DO THIS TO YOURSELF!?" Because that... is not professional. Breathe. In, out, in, out. We can do this.

They get the most patient and restrained of their elders to... CALMLY, very VERY Calmly, ask some medical questions. Listen. Without judgements! Because they are medical professionals. Who do NOT want to scream, forever, into the void. Certainly not. So Calm! (They are going to BURN THAT CAN IN-)

Which! Huh. Yeah, that explains the constant exhaustion. He was poisoning himself. Kinda. Not so much the GHOST but the human half. Putting to much strain and too much trace chemicals, minerals, and buckets of sugar. General "mmmm :/ Don't Like THAT ™" energy from the Goo causing it too try and constantly burning it all out of existence. Endlessly.

The more he put in, the more there was to burn. The more there was to burn, the more tired he became. The more tired he became... well, the more he put in. It was a slowly lethal starvation cycle. Big Yikes.

The TEA on the other hand? Those are leaves. The good recognizes leaves and water. Other various plants, dried or otherwise. It ignores them as "fine" until they reach a "problematic" threshold, apparently? So... *blank look at the doctor*

*sighs in medical professional*

Tea? Good. Satan Can of Halfa Poison? Bad. Please drink tea.

👍🏻👍🏻👍🏻

And it's like MAGIC. He's suddenly BACK, baby! Ha ha ha! Skulker you fuckin THOUGHT?! Oh it's 2am? Well SUPRISE bitch! He's bright eyed and bushy tailed! His grades are up AND he's beating you like a drum! He has ice breakers for old people discussions now!! The local Tea Shops have NEVER been so well protected.

He actually manages to graduate with not just decent grades? But GOOD ones.

And the second. The INSTANT. He is legally his own man? Has his important paperwork squirrelled away and the go bags safely WELL outside of Amity. It's time. He meets OUTSIDE the house, because he's not an idiot. He's been practicing his Clones and has them ready to grab his parents so he can get out of there alive. Jazz is on video call from Star city.

His parents... suspected. Not at first, but as goofy as they are? They aren't ACTUALLY idiots. They've been watching, going over old research. Trying, failing, to get in touch with the League to have THEIR team test their research. Peer review is critical after all. They... they had been so certain. Are still somewhat certain.

But their research doesn't exactly ACCOUNT for this "halfa" phenomenon. So, there is a very real chance they are missing something. The one thing the DO know? Danny is their son. Stuck in some eternal mortally wounded state or not, he is a hero. And they weren't there for him.

They can't change their beliefs on a dime. But they've clearly missed a great deal. And refuse to fall to academic bias. The very thing that got them LAUGHED AT for decades. Mocked and belittled. This is their life's work. By God they WILL find out the truth.

It's? Better then he could have hoped. Not perfect. But better.

He helps set up safeties and a security check point at the portal. Both sides. He's kinda a big deal these days, mom, dad. Ghost scientists eager to work with them. A whole TEAM under their command. It certain endears ghosts to them a whole lot more. Then?

Copy of the blue prints, go bag turned into normal bags, Danny's off to college.

Bounces from major to major. Nothing really capturing his interest. As he aged, he's need less sleep. Gotten stronger. Grown into his father's height and grandfathers build. Tucker keeps calling him a dorito. Danny retaliates with Ancient Egyptian Cyber/Pharoah Twink allegations. According to SAM they are both dumbasses.

She's not WRONG... but hey D:<

Eventually? A really niche botany seminar run by Pamela Isely catches the attention of Tucker, who forwards it to him n Sam. Nice ™. It's being held in her Murder Park! Cool! Obviously they have to go. So off to Gotham they go. And? When they get there? Sam is APPALLED.

She may HATE landlords as much as the next activist.... but LOOK at all these run down, foreclosed, rotting buildings! Beautiful gothic infrastructure! Those could be businesses or homes! Danny, busy with signing them up, makes the mistake of tuning her out as she rants in fury. She does this some times. Needs to vent. Uh huh, you're very right. You should contact somebody. I agree. Mmmhmmm.

Hey, Sam, Ms. Isely needs your-....

Sam?

Oh FUCK ™.

By the time the Seminar come around? Sam has violently kicked in the door of more then a feel reality offices. Owns QUITE a few buildings. Danny is sweating. She... she's doing the THING again. The "gimme your Ghost Crew, I KNOW you have a highly specific Ghost Crew, don't you DARE lie to me or I take your knee caps, Danny" stare.

>.> Sam you can't keep doin- *stare intensifies* Yes Ma'am. *Pulls out Fenton phone* and so? Here come the renovation crew. The ONLY honest building Crew in all of Gotham. They cut no corners. Can't be threatened. Gangs, villians, and even local government office try to arrange... accidents on the build sites.

Nothing. Nada. In fact, it turns out more dangerous for THEM then this crew of outsiders!

Wtf!

Then? After these two College age weirdos finish Poison Fuckin Ivys HIGHLY SUSPECT biology seminar? Manson fucks off to who knows where! Leaving what HAS to be "the muscle" behind. Cause I mean? Look, at the guy! He's huge! And what does he do?

Goes building to building. Rents them out to low income families. Honest, hard working shop keepers. And? Eventually decides to settle smack dab in the middle of Gotham, in the shadow of Wayne fuckin tower, spitting distance from the Space museum..... and open? A tea shop? The FUCK?

"The Zone".

In a weird shade of green. With little ghosts, wearing crowns, because and I quote "it's funny"? Certainly crazy enough for Gotham. But like, it's loud as FUCK here. Crowded. There are gas attacks and shit. It'll never las-....

It stays untouched for MONTHS.

Sometimes being the ONLY building near it to be untouched. Gas NEVER getting in. The damn place a BUNKER. And? Despite looking like it's two floors? It's three. You enter and your actually on the second floor. No one's even sure where the fuck the guy LIVES, since he never seems to leave.

Not only THAT. But it... it's like one of those old school apothecaries. Big ol bank of drawers. Guy'll mix up your blend for you right as you watch. Tea nuts are actually risking COMING to Gotham to try his stuff. Writing articles. Apparently he has some pretty rare shit in those drawers.

Some UNKNOWN shit, according to one guy on ViewTube.

There's this whole debate on if it's Ultra Super Rare or that means it's just super cheap knock off crap. Some of them he won't make for people, even if they ask. There's a rumor it's for Meta's with specific diets. Or alien blends. But no one can verify that. Cause like?

Anyone who tries to cause trouble?

Can't fucking FIND the place. And if you're already inside? You just... drop. Stone cold unconscious. It's definitely magic but no one knows if it's HIS or Manson's? You know? He won't talk. Gets annoyed when harrased.

Which off course!

Leaves Only ONE gentleman for the job. An elite special forces trained expert. Polite, dignified, enjoyer of fine Teas. Alfred "Why do you chucklefucks keep forgetting I was in the Queens Service and a Registered Badass" Pennyworth.

After all! He DOES have the days shopping to do.

@babbling-babull @the-witchhunter @hdgnj @legitimatesatanspawn @lolottes

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp #dcxdp #dc x dp prompt #danny phantom #Tea Shop of Mysteries AU #alfred pennyworth

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badxwolf · 1 year

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"[Russell T Davies] made Rose an equal, not a sidekick. It is she who, on several occasions, saves the Doctor, rather than the other way round. As any parent with a daughter, I now look at Esme and think 'you could be the Doctor'. In 2005, as recently as that, such a thought would have been a pipe dream.

[Rose is] a woman with an independent mind, willing to confront received wisdom. Rose arrives on screen fully formed, one of the strongest female characters of any show, any year, painting a solid line directly to Jodie Whittaker.

If you think about it, the relaunch in 2005 was actually the first chance to create the first female Doctor. Why not do it then? Perhaps we should be looking back on Billie Piper not as Rose, but as the Doctor."

- Christopher Eccleston in his memoir I Love The Bones Of You

#i cannot find words to articulate how profoundly this affected me #i think all i can say is THIS is why i love rose. this is why she means so much to me.#he gets it. he gets her.#and he gets thirteen too #also the fact that he's said jodie is his favourite doctor <3 #i love him aah #christopher eccleston #ninth doctor #rose tyler #billie piper #jodie whittaker #thirteenth doctor #doctor who

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bunicate · 6 months

Text

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི ₊˚ 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒂 𝒃𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍. lucifer x fem reader

warnings ꒱ྀི daddy kink. prbly excessive use of princess/little girl/human. size kink. praise. nipple sucking. fingering. possessive luci. unedited as usual. wc ꒱ 6k ﾉ 18+

note . . ᘏ⑅ᘏ ﾉ i dunno if this is even a repost anymore bcuz the original fic was only 2k words :c . . i also thought I wasn’t cwazy abt luci anymore but boy . . wus i wrong. i still luv him dearly. i hope anyone who reads this enjoys. thankuuu ^_^

lucifer could never understand why humans, beings fettered by something as meaningless as mortality, could possess the ties to control and bind demons.

how such frail bodies of small messes, succumbing to sicknesses, phobias, and other little weirds are able to form pacts with such powerful creatures

it’s a polarizing thought that he’s never challenged or sought to change. he understands them for what they are. arguably worse than demons, and he wants nothing to do with them. they are violent, weak, and fickle, and somehow—in the irony of it all—the universe plays a trick on him.

he lowered his defenses and foolishly got ahead of himself. he was unlike his brothers; he didn’t need love or companionship, and yet, of all the powerful beings and creatures, it’s a human that turned him into something unrecognizable.

it was faceless, sneaking up on him, and he was unable to remedy it as he slowly felt it consume him whole.

a bond was webbed between the two of you, and he’s certain, frighteningly so, that nothing could break it.

granted, that level of trust surely didn’t form overnight, as you proved to be quite troublesome. you were used to peeking your nose where it didn’t belong and going into places mortals should never be, making his job more difficult, but still, he trusts you.

with six younger demon brothers and a human to look after, discord became frequent. secrets wrapped tightly were easily unveiled just from your existence in devildom.

he kept a mental checklist of all your wrongdoings, and now your invasion of his heart was another.

his heart.

nothing but proof of his existence, only meant to pump blood and oxygen, has now expanded far too much to fit within his ribcage. it was suffocating.

it made room for a different kind of love, for someone else, and he didn’t think it was possible. he became spoiled by your affections.

he yearned so much for you that he was convinced that his carnage and sadism might have withered. at least, that's what he thought, only to realize it’s been tucked away in a cavity that you simultaneously filled.

he’s unfortunately reminded that it never really went anywhere. he’s respected and feared by all, and yet it wasn’t enough to deter his brothers from causing any mishaps, especially one in particular.

♡ . . ♡

it’s dinner when lucifer decides to strike.

chatter and the smell of only the best food in devildom fill the room. he almost feels bad for souring the joyful atmosphere—almost, but as always, there's an impending conflict that would render him irritable for the rest of the night.

he sits at the head of the table as the eldest brother and strongest demon, earning everyone's stare from the shift in the atmosphere. you and his brothers could sense that he wasn’t going to make a meager announcement. lucifer moves slowly, careful to prevent any of his heedless anger from slipping through.

he looks at everyone in the room, but his gaze lingers on you a bit longer.

“forgive me for interrupting dinner, but it’s come to my attention that someone here has stolen something valuable of mine.” his voice is deep, stern, and accusing. it echoes in the candle-lit hall.

“my credit card.”

maybe it's his sadistic streak, but he knew asking that question was ultimately trivial. he knows which of his brothers is guilty; you all did.

there’s only one demon dumb and desperate enough to steal from lucifer of all people, and while the perpetrator was obvious, it didn’t make anyone any less anxious.

the avatar of pride is infamous for his punishments, and no one wanted to be on the receiving end. when anything goes amiss, they must answer to him, and you were no exception to that rule.

you point your manicured finger at mammon, and his expression morphs into utter terror. he yelps at your tattling, already plotting at least three different ways to make his escape.

“oh my,” asmo laughs.

belphie yawns obnoxiously, unamused by the series of events. it was just another typical night in the house of lamentation; nothing should surprise anyone, and still, lucifer let a troubled sigh escape.

mammon throws a fit of indignation, as if his culpability wasn’t already obvious.

tossing his hands in the air, he whines, “damn it. why’d ya’ have to tell?” he slides down the seat of the chair, trying to avoid lucifer’s angered stare as much as possible.

you don’t think to reply, almost even rolling your eyes at him. everyone knows it’s him, and like the well-behaved girl you are, you figure it makes no sense to drag out the inevitable.

but when everyone’s eyes settle on you in curiosity, you slouch in your chair and blush at the sudden attention. you feel nervous, like you made a blunder of some sort.

they expectantly await your answer, but you don't have one.

“s-sorry, mammon,” you squeak out.

your hands in between your thighs and fidget under their stares.

you couldn’t, at least not confidently, admit that lucifer has you wrapped around his finger. he expects far too much of you, and you couldn’t possibly ruin that because of mammon, but that didn’t lessen the slight guilt from easing in.

“don’t apologize,” lucifer says, bolstering his voice—his attempt at scolding mammon while reassuring you.

“it’s not up to her to entertain your lies. perhaps if you weren’t always up to no good, she wouldn’t have to confess to your wrongdoings,” he lectures.

he sneers at him, and you watch as the younger demon slinks back further. “you’re the second oldest. act like it.”

mammon huffs.

“ahhh, lucifer, you’re no fun.”

admittedly, the brothers would get away with a lot more if it weren’t for your honesty.

make no mistake, they all love you dearly, but the troublemakers couldn’t tolerate your obedience when it comes to lucifer.

when he asked you who ate all the food satan prepared for breakfast the next day, you didn’t hesitate to say it was beel. when he asks you who wrote ‘lucifer sucks :p’ on his wall, you don’t stutter to inform him of satan’s and belphie’s not-so-secretive plan of his tormentation.

anything he wants, anything he asks, you obey. that was just the nature of your relationship.

after mammon realizes pouting won’t get him out of trouble with lucifer, he goes back to eating, and the others follow suit. soon the lively atmosphere returned, but you felt rather self-conscious.

you looked over at lucifer in the hope of finding something that you're weren't sure of yet, only to see that he was already staring at you. you nibble on your spoon, suddenly feeling bare from his lowered gaze.

there is a sense of security that you crave. his look of approval serves as a reminder of why you’re faithful to him. it was rewarding to know that your loyalty didn’t go unnoticed.

you look away quickly to hide your flusteredness by sipping on your tea, but the sweet taste of earl gray isn’t enough to distract you.

dinner begins to slow and wrap up. one by one, everyone bids their goodbyes. mammon is the first to depart, knowing he’d need as much of a head start as possible. when you finish the remainder of your dinner, you get up to leave as well.

you think about how to spend the rest of your evening, and your mind wanders to cramped thighs and ruined pillows.

you grow heated by the memory of previous nights. you touched yourself too many times to count after constantly witnessing lucifer’s disheveled state after his long day of reprimanding.

you stuffed your cunt with your fingers nightly, trying to mimic the feeling of something much larger. it was difficult to commit such acts quietly in a home full of creatures with nearly perfect hearing, and still, you wonder what fantasy will tether you tonight.

maybe the one when he fucks you in diavolo’s office, or your personal favorite, he punishes you.

you fantasize about him pulling up your dainty dress to put you over his lap and spank your plump ass until cum soaks your thighs, but tonight, you don’t have to conjure up anything.

lucifer stops you in the middle of your daydream. grabbing your wrist gently, he catches you by surprise.

you clumsily turn. frazzled eyes meet unwavering carmines. you’re almost certain he could hear the thump beating between your legs.

the prideful demon pulls you close, forcing your bodies to collide and connect like missing pieces. his breath is warm against your ear.

“would you like to come by my chambers later tonight?”

you look up to search his face, wondering if there’s even a sign of doubt. after countless days and nights and all sorts of muddled feelings between sheets, there is a part of you that can’t truly accept that he sought you.

one of the most eligible bachelors in all of devildom, known for his fearsomeness, is holding you like you were glass, asking for your company.

you soak in his expression, and it’s nothing less than firm and impenetrable, and it's then that you realize it was not a question. he was not asking.

struck with a whirlwind of desire from that revelation, you nod weakly, but the demon only shakes his head in response.

“words, my little human.”

your head tilts on its axis only for a moment. your chest had to be wide open, bearing your insides to him. the effect he had on you must have been that obvious. you’re a puddle.

was it normal to feel the static every time he was around, after every word he spoke?

you feel hazy, but also a small sense of relief that you no longer have to question if he still wants you. you’ve exhausted your fingers and toys, and finally, what you have been needlessly craving would be fulfilled in a room only a few doors down. his gaze flickers to your lips, and they shine with promise.

you mustered up all the courage you had left.

“yes, i would love to come by later.”

you’re amazed that it didn’t come out as wobbly as you anticipated. you’ve gotten better at pretending, you suppose.

lucifer gives you a sweet smile. he’s pleased with your answer, and butterflies erupt in your full belly.

his gloved hand then completely engulfs yours to bring it to his lips. not once breaking eye contact, he kisses your knuckle before he departs. a hopeless romantic.

he sets out to find mammon, and that gives you enough time to prepare.

you stalk up the stairs, declining levi’s invitation for a night of competitive gaming pitifully on the way. you’ll make it up to him next time.

by ushering yourself into your room, you act immediately. you don’t spend too long getting ready. a steaming, hot shower would suffice. you wash up with a bar of gentle soap, then follow through with too many to-count spritzes of perfume and faint-smelling lotion.

white with pastel pink trim.

your night clothes are simple and short enough to keep him on his toes. you look over at yourself in the mirror.

when did you become so daring ? you didn’t know. maybe asmo’s tips on charm and seduction were finally rubbing off on you. you wonder what his reaction would be if you told him you were using them on his brother. maybe he already knew.

you turn off your light and open your door. you peek down the hall.

it’s silent and empty, just as you predicted.

quietly, you shut the door, cursing to yourself when you hear the faint cry of the rusty hinges. your trek down to his room was anxiety-inducing, but in a good way. you feel refreshed, your body is more than ready, and you’re excited.

you hoped no one would drop by unexpectedly. beel would most likely wake up in the middle of the night for a snack, but the kitchen was in the opposite direction of lucifer’s room. not that it mattered anyway.

it wasn’t really a secret—not that those lasted with you around—but it would be. . . awkward. you’d much rather not have to deal with anyone overhearing all the naughty things you’ll beg him to do.

you stop your train of thought when you reach the end of the hallway. you’re in front of his door, and you sway from your heels to your tippy toes. the fluttery ache in your chest was making you skittish.

you take a breath to compose yourself, and then you knock with three light taps.

“come in”

it takes a good chunk of your strength to open his heavy door, but you appreciate the time it grants you. it gives you the space to calm yourself down and ease your prickly nerves.

when you enter, you let your eyes wander around the room first. nothing but books, old records, and silhouettes of things you couldn’t make out in the dark. you walk in and find him leaning against his unusually messy desk.

there's soft light from the lamp that hugs his frame and illuminates his coat discarded on the nearby dresser.

he fiddles with the strap of his gloves, giving you a small smile at the sight of your presence.

“you don’t have to knock, my love.”

he allows his gaze to explore, drinking in the outfit you picked out specifically for him. already, his trousers are suffocating and distracting him, but he’s quick to recover.

you bite your lip out of habit under his lustful stare.

“i know, but i wanted to just in case you were busy . . .”

there’s an amused huff.

his long legs carry him over to where you stand swiftly. his thumbs caress the apples of your cheeks, and he presses a kiss against your forehead.

“sweet girl.” and the way it skirts the edge of sensuality could make you melt. “even if i am, feel free to steal me away,” he whispers.

you swallow down a moan at the thought. maybe one day he'll eat those words.

his hand trails from your face to the nape of your neck and pauses.

“you washed your hair,” he observes.

you shake your head.

“it got a little wet in the shower so I’m just letting it air dry for a bit, luci.”

you pull at a wet strand and watch it dutifully bounce back in place. “ i was too lazy to dry it.“

he watches the notion with careful eyes. you wanted to giggle at how serious he looked.

“i wish you would’ve asked me to help you. i don’t want you getting a cold.”

you smile at his sincerity. you realized very early on that lucifer enjoyed tending to you. he likes consistency and being depended on.

‘it’s for your own well-being,’ he says, but you think he likes to have a pretty girl to fuss over

you offer him a small pout. “i did think about it, but i assumed you were still scolding mammon. i didn’t want to bother you.”

“besides.” you turn away, “i don’t think he wants to see me right now”

already, you’re embarrassed by the thought of facing mammon again. flustered, you recall tonight’s dinner and the look on their faces. you are definitely going to avoid them at school tomorrow.

you slouch, "he totally hates me.”

you say it half-heartedly, but lucifer looks at you with seriousness.

he softly grabs you by your chin. “don’t speak like that. he doesn’t hate you—none of us do, and i’m not sure we are capable of harboring such thoughts.”

you smile. “i dunno. i’m pretty sure you guys hated my guts when i first came.” you chuckle, thinking he’d at least join in, but he frowns. his heavy hand strokes the top of your head in an affectionate rhythm.

“we had our differences, and i was far too harsh. that i know.”

there’s a faraway look in his eye, and you know there’s a silent storm forming. you reach out to cup his cheek, and he melts into your touch.

“i never hated you,” he says.

you knew that your actions played a part in straining the early stages of your relationship. you also had to come to terms that not only lucifer, but multiple brothers harbored resentment towards humans,

its not a perfect story, but everything about this was completely unconventional. you’re just a woman who somehow found herself stuck in an attempt at other-worldly diplomacy, now sandwiched between the trying relationships of seven powerful demons.

things are rocky, but it’s the happiest you’ve ever been.

“i was only teasing, luci. i'm not mad or scared anymore.”

the hand you rested on his cheeks gets gripped by his larger ones, and he kisses your palm fondly.

“besides, i think we both know i wasn’t completely innocent.”

he takes a deep inhale.

“still, i think about how things were before.” he recalls the past in disdain; he blames his pride and then himself.

“my brothers and i . . . we are devoted to you, and we have the pacts to prove it.”

it’s a provocation you’re still not entirely used to. you had 7 demons who offered themselves to you, and the proof is imprinted on their skin.

in the human world, you’re everything and nothing at the same time. feelings of loneliness and insecurity that are far too loud and are still not enough to matter. you realized everyone lived selfishly, and your heart wasn’t hardened enough to follow suit.

lucifer's thoughts about humans didn’t change, despite his proximity to you. talks of your life as a young girl only cemented his thinking.

you were far too perfect for humans, too devious for angels, and too innocent for demons.

you were an entity on your own, and scarily he worshiped you. all of you.

he’d never tire of sinking his cock into your wet cunt, filling you with his seed, and hearing those saccharine moans that fall from glossed lips. he was ravenous, but you truly didn’t know the extent of it.

“my brothers care for you deeply, as do i, but you must know.” his eyes seem darker and much more predatory, and you can’t bring yourself to look away. like a bunny trapped in a hunter's cage, your doe eyes double in size and tremors rattle through your frame.

“you’re mine alone. your mind and body belong to only me.”

lucifer is well aware that six other cocks competed for your attention. a crass choice of words, but nothing less than true. they vied for the human girl, with nearly everyone wrapped around her dainty fingers. you are a color in the world shrouded in sisyphean darkness.

his lips part on your skin. “they can touch and taste you because i allow it.”

rough hands pull up your skirt, and he grabs a handful of your ass. “this . . . this is all mine.”

you make sure to turn and give your butt a little wiggle. it's more than a sultry gesture, and lucifer thinks a human so docile posing erotically might be the one thing to kill him.

how do you make soiled underwear look so pretty and enticing? there’s a possessive streak, a soft darkness that opens its curtains upon your presence. it peers over his shoulder, urging him to devour you. to pick at your remains until he’s consumed you.

“you're beautiful,” he groans. he inches close to you, and you think your lips are going to meet halfway, but he kisses your forehead.

then, your eyelids, your nose, and the side of your mouth, you look at him with half-lidded eyes, and he doesn’t budge when you try to squirm.

lucifer steps back and leads you to his chair. he settles into the squeaky leather until his back is comfortably cushioned.

he pats his firm lap.

“come.”

you know he’s holding back. his muscles ripple beneath you, he slouches farther into his chair, his legs spread to give his groin space to freely twitch against the slackness of his pants, and it only invites you

you struggle to decide where to sit. his knee or over his lap, both very promising positions, but he decides for you. he pulls your hip so your cunt is nestled right up against his cock. you sigh breathily, already your brain turning to mush.

“i didn’t even touch you, and you’re already making such a mess, sweet girl.”

the angle you tilt your head hides your expression, but from the flutter of your lashes and the purses of your lips, he knows you’ve grown shy.

"you kissed me,”

your sweet tone and your faint aroma of honeysuckle and jasmine make his cock stir.

“is that why you’re so worked up? just from my kiss?”

not even on the lips—not yet at least, and you’ve already wetted the fabric with your sticky arousal.

“what will happen when daddy touches right here?”

it’s a feathery graze against your protruding bud. his knuckles nudge the seat of the moist cotton, right where the white turned nearly transparent against your swollen cunt.

“it aches, doesn’t it?”

slender fingers slip under the band teasingly. he studies the subtle twitch of your hole, pumping a stream of glossy slick.

“do you want me to make it go away, hm? do you want daddy to make it better?”

you nod, a broken moan falling from your trembling lips.

“ i wantmore daddy.”

you spread your legs wider, hoping he’d be more generous with his caress.

“soon, my love.”

his hands trail from your pants to your stomach to your shoulders.

his hands rub your stomach and under your breast, settling right on your hip. you know he is hyper-aware of the thin fabric separating his cock from your heat.

even in his lap, he’s taller than you, but only by a few inches. his eyes are low and hazy.

“i wish to take my time with you.”

his thumb trails over your nipple.

“you have no idea how much i missed you.”

his other fingers pull at the other nipple.

you’ve felt those same digits on your neck, in your mouth, curled around your wrist and threaded between your fingers, and now between your thighs

he begins to grope at your exposed flesh. he admires how supple they appear, and he has to restrain himself from sinking his teeth into them.

your body never falters, and it responds so well to his hot and addicting touch. lucifer tries not to tease you; after all, he is rewarding you, but the little sounds and pants that leave your lips almost make him rethink.

your skirt is wrinkled, and he flips it at your hip, and your entire bottom half is almost fully exposed. your bare legs are on display, and so is your clothed mound. he mumbles sweet praises into the side of your breast while tracing the outline of your pussy through your pants with his finger.

you pull him away from your chest to kiss him, and lucifer has to remember that you’re human. that your small and pouty mouth, which struggles to swallow, is as fragile as the rest of you. palms splayed about on your back remind him he can mold you.

his hands are in a constant of motion, tugging and squeezing at your flesh. it feels like he’s in awe of every part of your body no matter how it differs from his. his touches are messy and yet controlled. they search you in subtle restraint, fearful that they’ll hurt you.

you’ve never been touched this way. to have someone want you so desperately— to possess you almost. his hands are burning you and you feel on top of the world.

you moan at his caress and feel heat rush through your body. if it weren’t for the lack of air in his lungs, he’d never pull away but eventually he does. lucifer experimentally probes your clit and looks up at your face to admire your expression.

“do you like that?” he whispers. you bite your lip, and your voice raises in pitch, “mhm.”

lucifer smirks to himself and kisses your nipple. “what did i say about words, little one?”

he stops his ministrations on your cunt and licks at your areola teasingly. he settles the tip of his tongue on your heated bud, flicking it, sending a shiver down your spine.

“is my good girl acting up?.”

“n-no, daddy, never.”

between each breath, he plants open-mouthed kisses across your chest.

“i hope so. i would hate to have to punish you.”

he sucks diligently and roughly. his tongue aggressively strokes your nipple, addicted to how it feels in his mouth. he closes his eyes and continues his assault on your chest.

your soft cries filled his room, and the feeling of your teat on the surface of his wet muscles pleased him. the aforementioned headache was long gone because the plushness of your body took over his mind and soul.

you may feel an indescribable urge to obey him, but he's just as much under your spell as you’re under his. he’s the embodiment of pride, but he’s not against admitting that you invade every inch of him. you don’t know it yet, but anything you ask of him, he will deliver. he wonders if you could hear his heart thrumming against his chest.

you’re naked, but he feels equally as exposed.

he continues sucking on one breast, his other hand busied itself, rubbing the neglected one. you arch into his touch, your tit spilling out of his hand. the weight of it feels secure in his large palm.

the stimulation has you unruly within his embrace. one minute, your hips are still from his flicks at your pussy, and then it jerks up, wanting more from his skilled and wandering hands.

lucifer likes this side of you, desperate and unashamed of how you wanted him to use your body.

you’re so sensitive that any subtle movement sends pressure to your clit. every time you whimper, especially loudly, he's quick to praise you.

“such lovely noises. i bet you’d do anything to please me, hm?” he hums.

you remember his earlier warning eager to be on your best behavior. “yes, daddy.”

it was hard to verbalize but you were at his mercy. anything for his approval, anything for his praise, you’d do it, especially if it meant you’d get rewarded like this.

he then pulls up your soaked panties, and you gasp at the sudden gesture. they stretch across the surface of your wet pussy, and they snap from his brute strength. the break in the fabric spanking your cunt.

“what a pretty thing.”

he tosses your ripped panties to the floor, ruining your perfect set. but he’d buy you another.

“i just want to be your good girl,” you say, rubbing your legs together in anticipation.

“you’re always my good girl. isn’t that right?”

you nod and feel happiness bloom.

“the best girl for daddy,” lucifer sensually encourages.

at this rate, you’re dizzy and drunk on his intoxicating words and erotic touch. you’re babbling, and lucifer finds it endearing.

you whine when he finally takes his gloved finger and rubs slow and tight circles on your slippery bud. “dada—.” you cry especially loud.

“i know, i know,” he shushes.

you felt relief consume you at the friction of his gloves on your trembling cunny. he continues to rub and fiddle with it until you’re forced to bury your mewls into the crook of his neck.

he takes another finger and presses down on your twitchy button, and you flinch at the sudden burst of pleasure.

he knows your body like the back of his hand, and he knows how to make you fall apart. his finger continues to work on your sensitive nub, and you gradually begin to soak his lap with your arousal.

he drags his fingers over your labia and grazes over your desperate hole.

within a few strokes, he plunges two fingers into your heat. he watches you push your tits into his face from the pleasure that forces the arch in your back. and he takes a deep inhale. your pussy greedily latches onto his fingers, and you’re practically fucking his hand.

“you look so delicious in my lap. such a beautiful sight, and it's reserved for only me.”

the depth of his voice sends shudders through your body

he loved how his fingers slid right in. it felt like your pussy was made to take what he gave you. his big fingers fervently stroke your insides, and your legs shake.

just watching your tiny hole stretch to the width of his fingers threatened his self-control. he wanted to fill you with something much bigger, and he’d know you would take it because you're his precious girl.

he wants to see your cunt wrapped around his heavy cock, but he’d settle for now.

just seeing you so pliant in his arms from his tongue lapping at your breast and his large fingers was enough for him.

you drip all over his wrist, and it darkens his gloves.

lucifer’s fingers rub every soft ridge, and your cunt is more than happy for it. the wetness, the squelch, the tightness—it’s overwhelming for you. you feel as if you’re finally unraveling.

"i'm going to cum, daddy. please." you don’t know what you're begging for, but whatever he was willing to do, you needed it now.

lucifer knows you’re close—very close. you’ve nearly gone stiff, and you’re shaking against him. your toes are curled, and your first is clutched.

“oh, is this princess’ pussy going to make a mess?” he coaxes. you open your mouth, moaning, and lucifer leans down. your foreheads are touching, and you unabashedly mewl, your minty breath fanning his face. “is she going to cream for me?”

you feel your orgasm sneaking up on you. lucifer only increases the pace of his fingers thrusting in and out of your cunny. he becomes more brutal, only wanting you to be within his arms as his only goal.

he’s so close to you that your lashes touch his skin. sweat simmers on your chest, and he sucks on your now bruised bottom lip from all your biting.

with two fingers still buried inside you, stroking your walls, he presses his thumb to your clit once more.

“that’s it, it’s pretty girl.”

you felt it coming; you had ample time, and you tried to keep yourself contained, but the force was still too unbearable. you had no idea how much he was holding back.

“i’m so much bigger than you. so much stronger, and you’re so little, princess.” he chuckles in a state of disbelief.

“and you’re not even scared.”

“you’re too trusting, but i suppose that’s why i love you so much. daddy’s brave little girl.”

like a lick of lightning, lucifer feels his desire threaten to snap. his human—his sweet mess full of little weirds, kind eyes, and a soft mouth was going to make him lose himself. he's growling like a beast with every chant of his name.

“daddydaddydaddy —hiccup— love you lots, b-but. i-i can’t think anymore. can’t take it.”

drool collects on the side of your mouth.

“i know it’s a lot for you right now, but you’re doing so well, princess.”

he re-adjusts your body on his lap. “just think about daddy and his fingers.”

the appendages stretching your cunt pull out briefly.

“look at that precious pussy.”

he spreads your labia watching the uneasy throb of your hole that begged to be stuffed.

lucifer wants to mount you, but he remembers what he is when he can smell the blood pumping through veins and the feeling of your heartbeat under the tips of his fingers.

he needs to treat you like a prized dolly to dress up, to kiss, and to fuck.

you don’t need to think; he knows what’s best, and he wants to keep you on a shelf for his own use.

you made him a beast, luring him into darkness, but he was never good at hiding. he felt like he was defiling you. you were truly an entity different from anything he’s ever known. sweet as brown sugar, and he’s tainting you.

still, the thrust of his arms grows stronger. nothing but the milky, wet sounds of your drenched cunt

“your little pussy is crying. you can let go for me.”

your hearts swell with another wave of heat. the sweet babbles of you wanting to reciprocate his love die on your tongue when your body stills. you toss your head back with a pretty wail nearing your crescendo. noisily, his fingers pump your pussy with trickles of wetness spurting out.

your hips jolt forward and erratically hump the heel of his palm, hoping to reach your end much sooner.

“m right there, —!”

he's going to make you cum hard. everything from the sound of his voice to his rough fingers to the shape of his cock could make you cream. his skill never fails you, always leaving you nearly boneless. you’re always going to come crawling back for more, without a doubt.

lucifer feels your walls pulsate around him, warning him of your impending orgasm, and it strokes his ego.

“daddyyyy,” you pant deliriously. his thumb drags at your clit repeatedly and with the sensation of your insides being drained, you sob. you’re too loud, but you can't remain silent any longer.

lucifer kisses your forehead to soothe you, and with a slight pinch of your throbbing cunt, you erupt in the middle of his embrace. the dam finally breaks, and your pussy convulses angrily like it's trying to push his fingers out.

“thaaaaat’s it, baby. daddy is so proud of you.”

he increases his pace, draining you of all the cum your cunny could pump out. until your knees buckle around his wrists.

your chest expands, desperate for more air. your head is fogging up, and you’re exhausted. your limbs are strewn across the demon, lacking complete strength.

lucifer lets you cool off from your high, and he slips his fingers out of you. without hesitation, he buries them into his mouth. the taste of you fills his taste buds to utter satisfaction. you're delicious, sweet and sour, and addicting. he would inject the very essence of you into his veins if he could. but maybe he's already hooked on you; that would explain his racing mind filled with thoughts of only you.

this demon that he’s become terrifies him, but he doesn't want to change. his family and his precious human are all he needs.

he wraps you up in his arms and hugs you. your back is now pressed into his chest, eyes closed blissfully. lucifer tucks your head under his chin, and you rest safely in his hold.

he silently admires the number he did on your body and feels the familiar feeling of pride bursts within him. he looks at your beautiful face, your puffy nipples, and used pussy and he feels gratified fulfillment engulf him.

“perfect human,” he mumbles.

he graces you with another kiss on your heated skin.

“my obedient little girl.”

#૮꒰ ๑´ତ `๑ ꒱ྀིა #lucifer x reader #lucifer x reader smut #obey me lucifer #omswd lucifer #obey me smut #obey me x reader #obey me x reader smut #lucifer x you #lucifer x y/n #lucifer x female reader #female reader #divider from @cafekitsune

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k4g3hika · 1 year

Text

CONSUME ━ imagine!

suna rintarou x fem!reader

summary: suna rintarou was hard to love, you knew this from the beginning. but when you overhear him admitting how he truly felt about you, it hurt to decide whether to let him go, or let your love for him continuously consume you.

genre: hurt/comfort

wc: 6.2k

tags: this is the longest imagine that i’ve ever written 😭 it was a pain in the ass to write but i hope you guys like it :)

Sometimes, you think it’s hard to love Suna.

Suna is calculating and quiet, the reasons exactly why you find it difficult to continuously pine for him. Though, you already knew he was going to act like this. You’ve gone to school with Suna since elementary, and have even lived in the same neighbourhood since childhood, but you don’t think he knows that.

The thing is, you know Suna, but you don’t think he knows you. Every morning since you were six years old, you’ve seen him make his way to school, but you’ve never had the courage to walk up to him and say ‘hi’. For years, the only parts of Suna that you were able to truly admire were his back and his hair, from behind. The both of you have never been in the same friend group, class, or extra-curricular activity, until your second-year of high school.

You precisely remember the moment you stepped into the gymnasium to introduce yourself as the new manager of the team. It was a rainy day and you were excited, albeit, a little nervous, but irregardless, excited because you know and love volleyball. The sport connected with some of your childhood memories, as you recall playing it with your older brother. Too bad your physical skills weren’t up to par with the school’s expectations, or else you would’ve been on the team. Their loss though, because you found your strategy and knowledge of the sport to be your strongest feature as a player.

As a result of the girl’s team already having a manager, the coach recommended you to try signing up for the role of manager for the boy’s team. Now, you didn’t mind being around boys. Your older brother was enough for you to build up the courage against the challenge that is the hygiene and personality, or well, lack thereof, of boys.

However, the courage built over the years was not enough to stop your surprise at seeing none other than Suna Rintarou, from the front.

He looked completely different from what you remember him looking like. For some reason, you still had the young image of Suna in your head. The Suna you remember had puffy cheeks and neat hair, but this new Suna, was mature, older, and way more handsome. His cheeks thinned out and highlighted a sharp jawline that made his face look so clean-cut, unlike his hair that was messy and all over the place. But, if anything, you think that you prefer this Suna.

Because, God, it made him so much more attractive.

Now, it’s been about three months since you’ve become manager, and in those three months, you’ve tried to show Suna just how much you love him. The years of no talking and never meeting each other were all building up for you, and you just wanted to show him all of the care and affection you’ve held for him over the years.

You’ve cooked bento boxes and given them to him, you’ve filled his water bottle with the expensive electrolytes from the convenience store ten minutes away from the school before every practice, and who couldn’t forget, you make sure that his towel was clean and warm beside his gym bag, so that he wouldn’t use the same one for weeks until it reeked. Your affection was clearly shown through your actions and you prayed to the heavens that he would just notice you. Maybe say a ‘thank you’ or even a little head pat, you really don’t care, just some recognition would make you feel rewarded after all the hard work you’ve done for him.

But, the bento boxes were returned to you either by, Atsumu or Osamu, Suna drank the expensive electrolyte water, however, he seemed to not notice that it was you who put all the thought and care behind the action, and his towel was always just thrown to the side alongside the other towels. Even though the towel you prepped was a personal one from home that had your initials hand sewn in the corner. You thought that at one point he would’ve acknowledged you, but the gratefulness never came.

It didn’t matter though. Because you knew in your heart that you loved Suna Rintarou, and there was nothing that could change that. Even if you did all the sincere actions for him until the both of you graduated and he never noticed you, just knowing that he at least saw the bento box, the water bottle, and your towel, was enough to put a smile on your face. You would show Suna that you love him, ten times over.

“Y/N! Earth to Y/N!” Your head snaps over to your right, seeing the coach look at you with concern. Embarrassed that he caught you in your daily Suna trance, your cheeks heats up and you push yourself to your feet.

“Coach!”

“I thought you would never hear me. Listen, I don’t know what’s taking all your attention away, but can you please head down to the locker room and tell the boys that they need to make their way over here. The drill we spoke about yesterday is a bit complicated, so I would like to get started as soon as possible.” Nodding, you bow and begin to make your way over to the club room.

Your heart begins to speed up a bit, as the thought of seeing Suna shirtless makes your chest burn and your face hot. By all means, you are not a pervert! But just seeing him with all his muscles in the bright fluorescent light of the locker room looked like a cover of a sports magazine.

Suna Rintarou makes you feel so nervous. Unfortunately, you find yourself relishing in the minimal acknowledgement that he gives you, thriving off of the fact that you were in a club that just allowed you to be around him. Maybe it was a sign from the heavens that you weren’t physically athletic, but strategically, which resulted in your application as Boys Volleyball team manager. You’d like to think that despite his ignorance, it was in both of your guys’ destinies to end up with another.

Maybe the both of you were the main characters of a drama, where, despite all the bumps in the plot, you will always find each other being drawn to one another. Yet again, that was all just your stupid imagination, but one can dream, right?

Giggling to yourself, you were about to knock on the locker room door, before you heard loud voices through the small space between the door and the wall. It sounded like they were bickering with one another, and you begin to wonder if it’s Atsumu and Osamu fighting again, while everyone just stood around and observed. Normally, you would be the one to beg them to stop while Kita jumped in after you to pull them apart. But, now that you weren’t inside, you begin to push open the door at the possibility.

“...Y/N?” Your actions falter at the sound of your name.

‘Are they talking about me?’ Before you could do anything, you lean your ear in just to get a snippet of what they were talking about. You know what they say though, curiosity was what killed the cat.

“Come on Sunarin! You have to like Y/N! She’s so cute, and she cooks you all those bento boxes! If that isn’t girlfriend material, then I don’t know what is.” Hearing Atsumu praise you for your efforts made you smile, trying to hide it by covering your mouth with your hand.

“And, let’s not forget how she already likes you. C’mon Rintarou, we’ve seen her personally hand you your water bottle,” The voice you assume to be Ojiro teases, while everyone in the room laughs.

“Oh yeah!! I’ve seen those expensive electrolyte packets in her bag, man, how does it feel to receive such special treatment from Y/N?”

‘So my actions don’t go unnoticed.’ Your smile grows bigger, clutching your clipboard closer to your chest when feeling just how full your heart is with everyone’s recognition.

“Stop it guys.” Suna’s smooth voice finally enters the picture and you try to stop yourself from giggling out loud. “She’s our manager.”

“So?!? Man, that’s even better! You won’t have a girlfriend who doesn’t understand the importance of the sport. If anything, Y/N is more committed than you, maybe you will be the one competing for her attention against the club,” you hear smooching sounds and Atsumu speaks in a voice that tries to mock Suna’s, but did a terrible job.

“Y/N~ don’t forget all about me!! I love you Y/N~!” More kissing sounds can be heard, and everyone in the room laughs one more time.

The joy in your heart would’ve been extended, if it weren’t for the sudden aggravated scoff from Suna, and the slapping of a towel on bare skin. Atsumu yelps and the room suddenly dies down from the initial humorous atmosphere.

“Man, shut up. I don’t like Y/N. She’s alright, I guess.” a locker door slams shut, “But sometimes, she's just so... annoying. I don't know how much longer I can put up with it. And you know, after a while, it just comes off as desperate.”

‘Desperate? I’m not desperate.’ You weren’t keen on Suna noticing you. You just liked doing all those things for him, it showed you cared, and that he was at least deserving of some special treatment, because he was a very special person in your life.

“I feel bad for her,” he continues, “spending all that time doing shit for someone that doesn’t even like her. I can’t say anything though, cause she’s our manager and I don’t want the team to feel awkward. I guess I just have to suffer with her smothering me all the damn time.”

At that, you feel your once fluttering heart stop. You feel tears beginning to make their way to fall from your eyes, as your face begins to feel hot, but not in a blushing way. More like in a, you were about to sob out loud and the tears probably wouldn’t stop for a while, way.

You loved Suna. He didn’t have to love you back, the least you were asking for was for him to say ‘thank you’. But it appeared that your affection didn’t appear as a display of your love, but something that bothered him. Annoying him to the point of seeing your actions as suffocating. But that didn’t entirely bother you.

It was the fact that he didn’t even want to tell you to stop. He was going to live like that until high school was over, because you were the team’s manager, and it would be ‘awkward’. You begin to overthink.

What if you kept on going about cooking those bento boxes for him, filling his water up with electrolytes, and bringing a special towel from home, all warm and clean, without knowing what he actually thought of your displays of affection? You would’ve lived thinking that Suna somewhat appreciated it. Possibly having the idiotic thought that he was just shy, and maybe didn’t know how to exactly tell you that he liked you.

You are such a dumbass.

You begin to tremble, the pen that was once held up by your clipboard clattering to the ground and startling you. It brought you back to your situation, seeing the door still somewhat closed in front of you. Out of fear that they were going to see you and realise that you were eavesdropping, you ditch the pen and begin to run back to the gym.

You were going to tell the coach that you were feeling sick. You hope the teary eyes and flushed cheeks will do you justice, and he’ll send you home without any repercussions. But as of right now, nothing matters, all that did was the fact that you were annoying the boy you loved, and that your pillows were waiting to welcome your tears until tomorrow morning.

—

It’s been two days. Have you missed school for the past two days? Absolutely not. Suna wasn’t going to make you miss class, as much as you wanted to, you know that if you were going to skip, the school will inform your parents, and that last thing you want is your parents to get involved.

It’s just been two days since you’ve been to volleyball practice. You haven’t been missing your duties at all though. Yes, you’ve been in contact with the coach and Kita, with them informing you on the notes of the team and each player’s performance. The reason for that being, some coaches from Tokyo were planning to head down to Hyogo for a volleyball camp. The team needs to know what they have to improve on, and unfortunately, though you felt as if you weren’t in the right state of mind, you had to fulfil your duties as a manager.

You’re not over Suna, and to be honest, you don’t think you ever will be. He’s been such a constant force in your life, that a lifetime without his presence captivating your mind felt impossible to even conjure. You love Suna Rintarou, but you guess you would just have to hold it inside until the both of you go your separate ways. Maybe then you’ll get over him, but the possibility seemed unlikely.

You just have to give up expecting the response to your love that you’ve been hoping for your entire life.

Checking the cafeteria and seeing if you had enough food supply for three volleyball teams, their respective coaches, and their managers. It seemed like a chore to do all on your own, and it was. But you committed to being the team manager. Suna wasn’t going to change that whether he liked it or not.

“Y/N, the Tokyo teams will be arriving soon. Coach says you need to head to the front and help him with dorm placement.” Sighing and nodding, you get up from your squatting position from the bottom shelf. Kita notices your negative mood, by being the observant asshole that he is. As you were about to exit out the only doorway, he grabs your forearm, holding you back from actually leaving. His sudden touch surprised you, resulting in you jolting back. “I’ve been meaning to ask, are you okay?”

His concern falters your thoughts and movements. In all the time that you’ve been manager of the volleyball team, Kita has never really shown you that much care for how you felt. It surprised you a bit, seeing how concerned he looked for your wellbeing.

Yet again, he’s Suna’s friend.

“I’m okay, why do you ask?” He didn’t believe you, that was clear. It was so obvious when his facial expression did not change, Kita was still staring intently at you. It almost felt like he was trying to read your mind.

“You dropped your pen, by the way.” Taking it out of his pocket, Kita hands you your familiar piece of stationary, not thinking about it, you grab it from his hand. “I know you were by the locker room when Suna said what he said.”

‘Oh shit.’ You felt your heart come to a stop, yet again.

“W-What? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“So it’s just a coincidence that after Suna said that about you, I found your pen in front of the locker room door, and you didn’t show up to practise till today? Y/N, I’m not sure if you’ve failed to learn something about me, but I can tell you that I am not an idiot.”

His words caught you off-guard. Kita managed to figure out what was wrong with you, without even knowing who you were. To be honest, it scared you a bit, getting a glimpse of what Kita can truly find out when he concentrated hard enough. You admire that about him.

Taking your silence as you not knowing what to say, Kita lets go of your forearm and sighs.

“Suna didn’t mean what he said. He’s a very thoughtful individual who was pressured into saying those things by the team. You know how they are. Please try to see things from his perspective, as Suna is often misunderstood.” He begins to walk away, but leaves with a final word, “I’m not telling you to change how you feel about the situation. You have a right to feel how you feel. But, don’t take Suna’s words too seriously.” Kita walks away, leaving you alone in the cafeteria.

‘Did he just say not to take the insults Suna threw at you seriously?’ The aggression left behind the negativity a few days ago wants to say, absolutely not. What Kita said is unfair, to you and your feelings. Suna called you annoying and said you were smothering him, how can you jump around that? So far you haven’t had a night where you haven’t thought about how…mean Suna was. You thought that he only would’ve been mean to Atsumu or the others, but not you, never you.

It’s safe to say that your mind felt like it was on the verge of exploding. It was so stressful to choose whether or not you should believe Kita and show Suna your love again, or just ignore him like what you’ve been doing for the past couple of days.

You think that it’s best to just…not think about the problem. It’s a situation for later, for now, the camp and most importantly, the team needs your utmost attention.

‘God, I hate high school.’

—

“Hey Suna, you good?” Suna takes a sip of water from his bottle, noting that it tasted different from usual. Nodding, he wipes his sweat off with a spare shirt from his bag, also becoming aware that the towel that he was given wasn’t the usual soft one that he had from the beginning of the year. This one was coarse and rough, making him pick up the shirt he intended to wear if he got too sweaty.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Hey, does the water taste a bit weird? Like, spoiled or somethin’ cause it doesn’t taste like how it usually does.” Osamu’s eyebrow raises, grabbing the bottle from Suna’s hands despite his protests, and tasting his friend’s drink. To him, it tasted normal, like the normal water that came from the water fountain.

“No…it tastes like how it usually does?”

“Nah, can’t be man. The water I usually have is sweeter and it tastes like fruit juice. This shit tastes weird.” Suna’s face scrunches up, tasting his water again to see if he was just hallucinating the lack of flavour in his water. It’s stupid, how much he’s overthinking the flavour of something that he shouldn’t think that much about. But he hates how regular water tastes like, only really drinking it if he has to.

Observing Suna, it clicks in Osamu’s head what was missing from the water.

In the past, he has noticed you getting out a packet of electrolytes and putting it into Suna’s bottle with a sincere smile on your face. You looked so cute and happy, it puzzled him why you didn’t tell Suna that it was you that was making his water suitable to his tastes. The silent display of affection made him so jealous, he could only wish that he had someone that cared that much.

“What if you ask Y/N? She’s the one who fills up the water bottles anyway, she should know.” Osamu jogs back to the court, practising once more with the team captain. Inquisitively, Suna does remember that you fill up the water bottles. He also remembered how you asked him once at the beginning of the school year what his favourite drink was, and he only shrugged, saying that he likes fruit chuupets, and ever since then, his water tasted like the familiar fruity taste. Wanting to know why his water hasn’t been tasting like it as of late, it prompted him to go on a search for you. Damn warmups, he needs to know why his water doesn’t have the same taste than it usually does.

Looking around the gym, he sees your figure turn into the hallway. Following you, he begins to walk faster in order to catch up to you, thinking about what to say to you in his head, without coming across as mean.

‘Y/N, why does my water taste bad?’ No. ‘Y/N, why doesn’t my water taste like fruit?’ No, he’s going to sound stuck up. ‘Y/N, why does my water taste like everyone else’s?’ Oh God no, that sounds even worse.

‘Y/N, is there something different about my water?’ There you go. That should sound right.

He was ready to confront you, preparing himself to call out your name. But before he could do so,

“Dove!” Suna’s head snaps to the loud voice in front of him, and so does yours, as a tall, lanky, goofy-looking boy makes his way towards you. Much to Suna’s dismay, for some reason, a smile etches itself onto your face as the other man approaches you. “I thought I would never find you.”

“Tetsu, aren’t you supposed to be practising with your team? You shouldn’t be behind here.”

“Well, I just wanted to see my girl. Is there any harm in that, Dove?”

“Tetsu, stop,” you mutter, a bit shy, “I don’t want people from my school to hear you call me that.”

“Aw, you’re still cute as ever. Here, let me help you with that.” Suna sees the guy, ‘Tetsu’, grab the basket of water bottles from your hands. You protest, pouting a bit as Kuroo brings the case above your reach so that you wouldn’t be able to get it back. “I haven’t seen you in awhile Dove, let me be nice, okay?”

Honestly, he personally doesn’t know what overcame him, but out of nowhere Suna coughed loud enough for the pair to hear. He sees you jump a bit, seeing that one of your teammates, catching you in the midst of a conversation while you were supposed to be doing your duties. And it was even worse for you, as not only was it a teammate, but it was Suna. You assume that he probably hates your guts, based on what he said before. Even so, his glare started to make you feel a bit nervous.

“Can I help you?” Kuroo asks Suna as walks up to the both of them.

“I should be asking you that question. Do you need something from my team manager?” Embarrassed, you look down at your feet, trying to avert your eyes from Suna or Kuroo’s.

Kuroo’s eyes squint, looking at the middle-blocker who, to his surprise, matches his height. The both of them begin to have a staring competition, as one or the other refuses to tear away the eye contact. It started to worry you, because it’s almost been two minutes of harsh breathing and aggressive stares.

“O-Okay, I’ll be taking these then.” You grab the crate from Kuroo and begin to make your way to your original location. “Get back to practise guys! Lunch is in thirty!”

“Who are you and why were you talking to Y/N?”

“Woah, woah, buddy, why are you getting protective? Y/N, is a very, very, close friend of mine, so I think that I have a right to approach her right?” Kuroo smirks, stepping closer to Suna as a form of intimidation. “How about you? Are you her boyfriend or something?”

Suna glares at Kuroo, wanting nothing more than to hit him in the jaw. He would, but one, that would take too much of his energy, and two, he’s pretty sure you would hate him if he does. Still, something in Suna just wanted to tell Kuroo that he was your boyfriend just for him to back off.

But he wasn’t. Because he doesn’t like you. He’s sure of that.

“No.” Kuroo laughs, stepping back before turning to make his way back to the gym.

“Well then, that means nothing is stopping me right?” Kuroo walks away, but not before aggressively pushing Suna’s shoulder back with his own. Though, Suna was too concentrated on what the other boy said to even progress the aggression from the other side.

‘What did he mean ‘nothing is stopping him? Is Kuroo going to do something to you? What will Kuroo do that’ll result in Suna blocking him?’

“Sunarin! What are you still doing out here?!” Atsumu shriek could be heard from down the hall, making Suna jump out of his train of thought. He completely forgot that he was even standing here just staring at a wall and thinking of you. That was weird.

He usually never did.

—

The practice game against Inarizaki and Nekoma was…tense.

You could feel the passive aggressiveness coming strangely, from Kuroo and Suna across the net. Everyone else was curious as well, wondering exactly why these two, who’ve never met before, suddenly have a feud similar to that of a world war. At first, you were completely clueless, but then began to wonder if something happened in the hallway after you left.

Maybe Suna said something to tease Kuroo? Or maybe, it was the other way around and now they just want to kill each other.

In the third set at twenty-two points to Inarizaki and twenty-four points to Nekoma, the stakes and the nerves were equally as high. Nekoma has one win and Inarizaki has the other. It seems that this practice game was being played for far more than it actually was, since Kuroo and Suna never acknowledged each other apart from glaring and swearing at each other under their breath. Their respective teams kept asking them if they were okay, both replying with, “yeah, let’s just win.”

“Do you think something happened between Suna and that Nekoma player?” The coach asks you, leaning in and whispering it so that others wouldn’t hear.

“I’m not sure…but they do seem pretty aggressive with one another.”

Then, as you look away for just a moment, a spike comes from Nekoma, but was thankfully received by Kita. Following a set by Atsumu, Osamu jumped to spike it down, but was then blocked by none other than Kuroo himself.

At the brink of time, Ojiro retrieves it back, calling Atsumu to set it once more, this time for Suna to powerfully spike it down, aiding them in their two point loss between them and Nekoma. As Suna jumps up, you see Kuroo and Kenma jump as well.

A feeling of failure begins to settle in your heart.

Suna hits the ball, powerfully, the first time you’ve seen him hit a ball with so much energy.

But the ball immediately lands back down onto the same side, Kita not able to have caught up to it in time. Nekoma cheers out loud, congratulating each other on their hard work.

While Inarizaki lost, they began to support each other for their efforts, but you notice that Suna didn’t look as relieved as the others. His stare is hostile, facing towards the otherside where you see Kuroo looking at him with the same confrontational gaze. You swallow nervously, beginning to make your way towards Suna to pull him back. The Inarizaki boys take notice as well, observing how Suna and Kuroo were both stomping their way to each other. The same feeling of failure seeps into your chest again and you could sense something was going to go terribly wrong–

Suna punched Kuroo in the jaw!

Out of nowhere, a fight begins between the two players, both of them tussling with one another in the middle of the court. Kuroo lands a punch on Suna but is equally stunned when Suna fights back almost immediately after. You notice how Kuroo was pulling at his shirt, trying to bring him closer to land another blow, but fails as Suna strikes him one after the other. Both Nekoma and Inarizaki run up to their players, trying to pull them apart from one another.

The coaches start to shout at their players, ordering them to stop what they were doing at once.

Successfully, they both are torn apart from one another, but still continue to fight the air as they try to continue their brawl.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” Your coach asks, trying to instill some discipline into his player. Unfortunately, your heart fails to calm down after witnessing the both of them fight so aggressively. You’ve never seen Suna fight someone, or him be so mad.

Suna looks up, pulling his arms away from his teammates and stares at you.

As the both of you make eye-contact, you refuse to move from your position and remain shaking. Almost as if you gave him an answer to something, Suna walks away, leaving behind everyone in awe.

Just then, you look up at Kita, who nods for you to go.

‘Should I go?’

The memory of him calling you annoying and smothering comes back in your mind.

‘Does he deserve my comfort?’

“Please try to see things from his perspective, as Suna is often misunderstood.”

Putting down the clipboard on the bench, you run outside to try and find Suna. Fall has never been kind to Hyogo, as rain pelts down from the sky, fogging your ability to try and see Suna. You call out his name, but your volume is minute in comparison to the strength of the rain.

Running into the open hallway, you look left and right to try and find the familiar boy. But, no luck. Your heart begins to ache at the realisation that you had no idea where Suna is. You didn’t know what he was doing all by himself in weather like this. Inside, you sincerely hope that he didn’t run out in the street.

‘Oh God, what if he did?’

Out of sheer panic, you run towards the direction of the gate, praying to the heavens that he didn’t do the latter. With rain coming down this hard, you knew that driver’s wouldn’t be able to see as clearly as they usually do. And the thought of Suna running into the street in hopes of getting his comfort jelly chuupets at the convenience store down the road doesn’t make you feel better at all.

You run out the gate, looking towards the direction of the store, failing to catch Suna or any person resembling him standing in the vicinity of it. Trying to get nearer and get a closer look, the sound of a blaring horn fills your ears. Turning to the left, you see a car heading your way, swerving side to side in a skidding motion. The road was so slippery in this type of weather, but why couldn’t you move?

The car was getting closer and your feet felt like they were stuck on the ground.

‘Why can’t I move?’

“Y/N!” Your body jerks back to the side. The car swiftly passes the both of you, getting back onto its regular general direction before driving further down the road. You feel your heart beating profusely, your heaving chest moving up and down in hopes of slowing it. “Are you stupid?! What do you think you’re doing?!?”

Looking up to thank your saviour, Suna’s panicked face greets you causing you to go silent. Both at the same time, you feel relief and stress seeing his face. Mostly relief because you’ve finally found him after all the events that occured today.

“Answer me—“

“Idiot!” Pushing him back, Suna stands there stunned while you clench your fists by your sides. “What—What do you think you’re doing, getting into fights, running out in the rain…are you a child?!? What is going on with you??”

Suna stands there silently.

“And don’t just stand there, I ran out in the road because, because I thought you went to buy your stupid chuupets that you love so much down at the convenience store! You are like a child, wanting fucking food when you’re angry or stressed. You know, I shouldn’t have come out here. In the rain, getting all wet. But you know what Suna, you know what’s pathetic? This, running in shitty weather like this, wouldn’t only be the most drastic thing I do for you.

Suna, for months, I-I’ve been buying expensive ass electrolyte packets, because I know you wouldn’t drink regular water. You only drink water that tastes like fruit juice. That’s from my own money by the way! I also cook you food, that I spend time out of my nights, and sometimes mornings, because you are picky! I know you don’t like cafeteria food, so I just threw my food into the circle, hoping to God that you just might like it! And-And let’s not forget about my towel, my hand sewn, hand washed, machine dried towel. I bring it for you fresh everyday Suna! I know you don’t like the rough school towels, so I brought mine with my initials!

And do I get noticed? No! I never got a ‘thank you’, or even a nod of recognition?! I have Atsumu or Osamu return my bento box in silence, even my towel, thrown into the pile with the rest of the team’s towels, and I get called annoying. I slave myself every day, Suna, just to get your attention. But I don’t think you realise that, I don’t have to do these things. I have never, ever, forced myself to do these things.

I am sorry, if I smother you Suna. I just love you so fucking much that I don’t realise the things I do to care for you, are exhausting.

But now, I’m exhausted. Of not receiving the gratitude I expect for the things I do. I was fine for awhile Suna, but now I’m—“

Then, you feel yourself being pushed onto his chest. One of Suna’s arms wrap around your waist, while the other holds your head down gently, as if silencing you from saying the rest of what you wanted to say. You feel shock course through your veins as the last thing you expected was a hug from the Suna Rintarou.

You and Suna stood under the harsh rain, their heartbeats echoing the drumming of waterdrops around them. The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them in that intimate moment.

“Don’t get tired Y/N, please don’t get tired of me.” Out of nowhere, you feel yourself begin to cry. Wiping your tears onto Suna’s already wet jersey, he manages to sense your exhaustion, urging him to glide his hand on top of your head continuously. “I am grateful Y/N, that you do all these things for me without me having to ask.”

Suna pulls the both of you apart, cradling your face as he attempts to wipe your tears off. Despite his efforts however, you continue to cry, meanwhile struggling to breathe as you attempt to catch your breath. It feels like despite all the tears you’ve cried in private, seeing Suna recognise you brought a whole different wave of emotions.

“Don’t cry, I don’t want to see you crying because of me.” At that moment, Suna ponders for a bit as you see him look at you. You feel yourself freeze as he leans down to plant two kisses on both of your cheeks, an effort to dry your tears. Putting his forehead on yours, his thumbs continuously brush your jawline, as if he was admiring you. “It’s difficult for me to say Y/N, but I love you.”

Your eyes widen.

“I’ve loved you since elementary when you pushed that little boy off the swing after he pushed me off. I’ve loved you since middle school when you would sneakily put chuupets on my desk, even if you thought I didn’t know. You’re beautiful Y/N. And, I’m sorry for not thanking you earlier for everything you’ve done for me. I’m not brave like you, I can’t show the people I love that I care for them.”

“B-But the bento…”

“Of course I ate it. It hurts me to think that I didn’t, I just always asked Atsumu or Osamu to bring it back. You make me nervous Y/N. I can’t confidently walk up to you when you get prettier every time my eyes turn to you.

You make me weak, Y/N.” You huff, sniffling as Suna lands another kiss on the tip of your nose. He smiles and brings you in for another hug, but this time, your arms wrap around him tightly.

It is difficult to love Suna Rintarou.

It was a path fraught with uncertainties and moments of doubt. But as you stood there, holding the rain-soaked figure before you, you knew that the journey was worth it. Because in the depths of his guarded heart, you had found a love that was as powerful as it was fragile, as beautiful as it was challenging. And you were determined to weather the storm, to be the unwavering presence that helped him navigate the complexities of love and vulnerability.

#haikyuu #haikyuu anime #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu angst #haikyuu hurt/comfort #suna rintarou #suna rintaro x you #suna rintaro x reader #suna rintaro fic #suna rintaro haikyuu #suna rintarou angst #suna rintarou fluff #suna rintarou hurt/comfort #suna rintarō #suna rintaro imagine #suna rintaro x y/n #suna rintaro scenarios

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misswynters · 2 months

Text

Tamed Targaryen Heart

Aemond Targaryen x fem!wife! reader

[warnings: pregnancy, difficult birth

[word count: 1.1k

[a/n: maybe i will turn this into a series…

[note | pls don’t just like, reblog & give me feedback. i don’t want to get shadowbanned

The dimly lit chamber was filled with the scent of lavender and the muffled sound of Aemond Targaryen’s pacing footsteps. He glanced over at you, lying on the bed, sweat beading on your forehead as you gripped the bed sheets tightly. Your two sons, Aerys and Daeron, were asleep in their chambers, blissfully unaware of the turmoil that you were enduring.

“Aemond,” you groaned, your voice strained with frustration and pain, “I can’t take this anymore. This girl is taking her sweet time.”

Aemond moved swiftly to your side, his single eye filled with concern. He brushed a damp strand of hair from your face. “You are strong, my love. She will come when she is ready.”

“I’m tired of waiting!” you snapped, your patience long gone. “I just want her out. Now!”

The midwives and nurses exchanged wary glances but kept their focus on preparing for the birth. Your irritation was palpable, and the tension in the room thickened with each passing moment.

“Why don’t we try going for a walk?” you suggested suddenly, struggling to sit up. “Maybe that will help get things moving.”

Aemond hesitated. “Are you sure that’s wise? Perhaps we should bring one of the nurses.”

“No,” you insisted, your eyes blazing with determination. “Just you and me. I need to get out of this room.”

Aemond nodded, knowing better than to argue when you were in this state. He helped you to your feet, supporting you as you made your way out of the chamber and into the dimly lit corridors of the Red Keep. The familiar halls were quiet, the stillness broken only by the occasional flicker of torchlight and the distant murmur of guards on patrol.

As you walked, Aemond kept a steadying arm around your waist, his presence a comforting anchor. “What shall we name her?” he asked softly, hoping to distract you from the pain.

“I don’t know,” you admitted, leaning heavily on him. “I haven’t been able to think of anything that feels right.”

“How about Visenya?” Aemond suggested, his voice thoughtful. “After the conqueror queen.”

You shook your head. “That’s a cursed name. Even so, it doesn’t fit. She needs a name that’s isn’t so common.” You continued your slow pace, Aemond offering more suggestions: Rhaella, Alysanne, Naerys. Each name was met with a thoughtful pause, then a gentle shake of your head.

Finally, as you turned a corner, you stopped abruptly. “Aemond, what about Aelora?”

“Aelora,” he repeated, testing the name on his tongue. “Aelora Targaryen. It’s beautiful.”

You smiled faintly, a glimmer of excitement breaking through your exhaustion. “Aelora it is.”

Suddenly, a sharp pain gripped you, and you doubled over with a cry. Aemond’s grip tightened as he steadied you. “What is it?”

A pool of water began to form as it dripped down your leg. “My water just broke,” you gasped, clutching your swollen belly. “Its time now…she likes the name Aelora.” You slightly chuckled in pain.

Panic and excitement surged through Aemond as he helped you back towards your chambers, shouting for the midwives as you neared. The nurses rushed to your side, guiding you back to the bed and preparing for the final stages of labor.

The next few hours were a blur of pain and struggle. You gripped Aemond’s hand tightly, your nails digging into his skin as you fought to bring your daughter into the world. Aemond stayed by your side, whispering words of encouragement and love, his own heart aching to see you in such pain.

“Come on, my love,” he urged softly, brushing his lips against your forehead. “You can do this. She’s almost here.”

“I can’t,” you cried out, tears streaming down your face. “It hurts too much.”

“You can,” he insisted, his voice firm but gentle. “You are the strongest woman I know. Just a little more.”

With one final, agonizing push, a wail filled the room, and your daughter was born. You collapsed back against the pillows, sobbing with relief and exhaustion. Aemond’s eye shone with pride and joy as the midwife placed the tiny, crying bundle into your arms.

“Look, Aemond,” you whispered, your voice choked with emotion. “She’s finally here. Our little Aelora.”

Aemond gazed down at the newborn, his heart swelling with love. He gently touched the baby’s cheek, awed by the miracle in his arms. “She’s perfect,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “You did it, my love. You brought her into the world.”

You held Aelora close, tears of happiness mingling with the sweat on your face. Aemond wrapped his arms around both of you, a rare, genuine smile spreading across his face.

Once the midwives had cleaned and tended to both you and the baby, Aemond and you made your way to your sons’ chambers, eager to introduce them to their baby sister. Aerys and Daeron, roused from their sleep, looked up in wonder as their parents entered with the tiny bundle.

“This is your sister, Aelora,” Aemond said softly, kneeling down to their level. “Say hello.”

Aerys, the elder of the two, reached out a tentative hand to touch his sister’s tiny fingers. “She’s so small,” he whispered in awe.

Daeron, younger but no less curious, leaned in to peer at the baby. “Can we hold her?”

“Of course,” you said, carefully transferring Aelora into Aerys’s waiting arms. The boys’ faces lit up with joy as they cradled their sister, their excitement infectious.

Aemond watched his family with a sense of profound contentment, a rare, unguarded smile gracing his lips. For this moment, all was right in their world. His heart swelled with love and pride, knowing that together, he had a beautiful family. And so, in the heart of the Red Keep, surrounded by the warmth of your family, you both welcomed your daughter into the world. Your hearts full of hope and love for the days to come.

banner by: @cafekitsune

#house of the dragon #hotd fanfic #hotd imagine #hotd season 2 #house targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond fanfiction #prince aemond #aemond x you #aemond fic #viserys targaryen

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adiadagaki · 3 months

Text

"Can I have all of your hoodies?"

Incl: Gojo, Geto, Toji, Megumi, Sukuna (18+)

Megumi

"Megs, can I have all of your hoodies?" Burying your head into the black fabric you sighed, a drowsiness emerging from his clean scent. Your nostrils sung.

But the actual source was much better.

Hugging your boyfriend you whispered thanks into his bare chest. He made many sacrifices (which weren't actually sacrifices in his eyee) to ensure you are happy.

"No problem." He mumbled, trying to hide how bashful you made him. Hugging you back to hide said embarrassed face, he kissed your forehead.

"Come on baby, bed time." Snuggling closer you soughed, "Megs can you carry me to bed?" Humoured by your ask he couldn't help but point out you were five feet from the bed, "Please Megs, my legs are tired and you are strong and comfy." Giving in, as he was always going to, he wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted you.

Coiling your legs around his waist you hummed happily, portraying your thanks. Three seconds later and you were safely tucked under the sheets, latched onto Megumi.

"Thanks Megs, for carrying me and-" A yawn escaped your lips, "And your hoodies." Sliding a hand under his - your - hoodie he pawed at your hip, your heart fluttering at his touch.

"Any time baby."

Sukuna

"Sukuna?" Plucking at the appetising hoodie on his chest, you batted your lashes. The curse gazed down at you, curious as to what you could possibly want.

You were fed, fucked and showered.

"Yes princess?" Straddling his lap, you slid your hands onto his lower abs, "Can I have your hoodies?" A single, attractive brow cocked, "All of them?" A cheeky smile and a nod, "Not sure princess. I like my hoodies." He was only teasing, he had enough hoodies to clothe a small village, but he loved seeing the little pout on your lips as you asked him.

"But they are so comfortable, and they smell just like you." Cute, Sukuna thought you were cute.

"That is a good reason princess. But what will I get in return for losing all of my hoodies, hm?" Chewing on your lip you wandered into thought.

What would pursude the King of curses to hand over his hoodies?

Sukuna watched with a lazy smirk on his face. If only you understood everything that was his was yours you wouldn't ask him for things all the time. If he didn't enjoy how you did it he would drill the fact into you like an owner training a puppy.

"How about you let me finally take your ass princess?" Your pout deepend, "That doesn't seem like a fair trade." Tugging you up off his lap, ready to deposit you at the side he bit back a laugh at how your hands flailed.

Adorable.

"How about I let you take my ass with your fingers. Ease me into it?" That was good enough for him. He would have you taking both of his cocks soon enough, in his true form.

"I guess that will have to do princess." Shoving your hand in front of his face, you wiggled your fingers, "You can only actually take my ass when you out a ring on it." Digging his fingers into your hips, he flipped you, his cock hardening in his pants.

"What type of ring do you want princess?"

Satoru

Leaving your shared closet, you halted at the foot of Satoru's abnormally large bed and crossed your arms.

"Something wrong sweetheart?" Looking up from his phone fully (away from the designer dress he was looking to buy you), he drank in your adorable pout, "Where is my favourite hoodie?" Ah. That's why you were pouting so adorably for him.

"I put it in the wash sweetheart." Throwing your hands in the air you wondered how he could be so stupid, "Satoru!" Internally he was laughing at your elaborate reaction but externally he had on a poker face. He couldn't risk you withholding sex again.

"I'm sorry sweetheart, but it needed washing." That didn't improve your mood. "There is only one solution to this." Intrigued, Satoru played along, "Oh?"

"I need you to give me all of your hoodies." That did make Satoru smirk, even the strongest had his limits. "Is that so?" A firm nod only caused his smirk to tug wider.

"In that case sweetheart, they are all yours. Now c'mere and give me a kiss." Now all of his hoodies were yours, who were you to say no?

Suguru

Freezing didn't even describe the chill that racked your bones as you stepped inside yours and Suguru's apartment. The rain had lashed against you mercilessly leaving you sodden, as though you'd just showered.

At the sight of you Suguru frowned, concerned your weaker immune system would catch a cold.

"What happened pretty girl? Why didn't you ring me to pick you up?" You cast your eyes down at the little scalding your boyfriend was giving you, "I didn't want to bother you on your day off." That reminded Suguru why he loved you so much, "Pretty girl, you are never a bother. I'd have happily picked you up if I'd known you were walking in this weather." His words touched you.

But not as much as his actions.

He immediately stripped you of your drenched clothes, numerous kisses placed on your face, lastly your lips.

"Warm bath or shower?" He breathed against your now swollen lips, "Shower please. And Suguru?"

"Yes pretty girl." Perching your chin on his chest, you smiled wanting to weaken his resolve, "Can I have all of your hoodies?" A laugh broke free from his chest at the question, shaking not only his body but yours.

You loved that sound from him.

"All of my hoodies were already yours pretty girl. Always have been, always will be. No need to ask." Grinning, you pecked his lips, "I love you Sugu."

"I love you too pretty girl."

Toji

"Why do you never buy me new clothes Toji?" A little humour packed huff left his lips, "I do buy you clothes doll." That displeased you a whole bunch, a very deep frown settling on your lips.

If Toji had bothered to look away from the TV he would have seen that.

"Dresses and lingerie are not clothes. I need things to wear on regular days." If Toji had his way you'd only wear lingerie around the house, but you were resistant to the idea. He couldn't help that.

A lazy smirk crawled up his lips at the idea of you in some cute white lingerie, cooking for him, cleaning around, bending over so that tight, perky ass of yours was on full display.

He really didn't see why you hated the idea.

"You don't need any more regular clothes doll." His continued refusal had a plan surfacing in your mind.

If he wasn't going to buy you new clothes then you'd just have to share. What else could you do?

"So I can't have new clothes?" His answer remained constant, 'no'. "Then, can I have your hoodies?" Crawling onto his lap, you toyed with a strand of his hair, biting onto your bottom lip in an enticing display. Hoping - needing - for him to agree.

You were fast running out of options.

"My hoodies?" Nodding, you gave him bedroom eyes, "Fuck." He grumbled, his resolve ever thinning.

Just one little push, "Please Toji, I need-" Pressing your hips down into his you smirked internally at how he jolted, desire beginning to plague him.

Grinding your hips, you kissed his jaw, devious in every move. "Shit, shit, alright doll they are yours. Now ride my fucking cock and finish what you started."

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