yunieeee

[yunieeee]

family: “why are you just sitting in ur room smiling at ur phone?”

me who’s been reading smut about fictional characters for the past 6 hours:

[yunieeee]

Respectful older man 🤝 sweet younger girl

[yunieeee]

. ۫ ꣑ৎ . ❝ 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐔𝐏, 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘...❞

wc: 628. not proofread. anon.

you were not much of a talker. and you boyfriend suguru knew that. he understood that. and because of that, he learned that small actions were signals that you wanted something.

you would stare at something for way too long at the store and he knew you liked it. you wouldn't take your eyes off of it until he grabbed your attention. "you like it, baby", he would ask, his height towering over you and playing with your hair.

"yeah..."

"do you want it?", you only stare at him, not really wanting to say anything. you didn't want to be ungrateful. "it's okay I'll buy it for you", he flashed you a smile and gave you a small peck on the cheek before taking it off the shelf and paying for it.

when you want to cuddle, you would walk up to hin and grab his hand then lead him onto the bed or the couch. he would lay with you, your head resting on his chest listening to his heartbeat as he's caressing your thigh and kissing the top of your heard occasionally whispering sweet nothings.

sometimes you just sit on his lap when you want attention while he's either working or playing video games. he smiles and presses a soft kiss on your lips as you make yourself comfy. "you're gonna have all my attention when i'm done, cutie"

suguru almost always catches you staring at his food whenever you're out to eat. your boyfriend's food just looks so much more scrumptious. you try to make it subtle but he sees it. he picks some up with his fork/spoon/chopsticks and places it near your mouth. "say ahhhh....", he says and you open your mouth taking a bite of his food. it really was delicious.

"it's really good", you say and he smiles.

"mhmmm... if you want we can eat together", he pushes his plate between the both of you. you just can't help but think how sweet he is.

you always help suguru relax after he comes back from work. completely exhausted and all suguru can think of is enjoying a nice dinner and bath then cuddling with you on your shared bed.

although he understands that you're too shy to express yourself to him at times, that doesn't mean he's not gonna tease you.

you walk up to suguru and tug on his sleeve. he knows that means that you want a kiss, but he's gonna act clueless, just because he can. "what's the matter sweatheart?", he asks a stupid smirk on his face.

"uhh...", you're trying to come up with words but nothing. so you just stare at him and tug at his sleeve again, hoping he got the message this time.

"sweetie, i'm not just gonna understand you if you don't talk", he plays with the ends of your hair and you feel lile combusting. why was he doing this to you?

you sat in silence again but nothing. realizing that he really wasn't gonna do anything, you breathe out and gather your words. "i-i....want a...kiss", you say quietly.

"what's that? i didn't hear you. speak up pretty...", your heart is beating more rapidly now and your cheeks are getting warmer. but he's not showing signs of mercy.

frustrated you let it all out. "i want a kiss, suguru", he chuckles.

"you could've just said so", he pulls you by your waist, placing one hand behind your neck and placing a soft but passionate kiss on your awaiting lips. he pulls you impossibly closer to you, deepening the kiss only letting go to take in a breathe before tasting your addictive lips again.

suguru pulls away, the both of you breatheless, his forehead on yours. "that wasn't so hard now was it?..."

. ۫ ꣑ৎ . 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃 © 𝐅𝐋𝐕𝐕𝐅𝐅𝐘

[yunieeee]

@wickedmovie :

"You will be changed. #WickedForGood trailer tonight."

[yunieeee]

I just think, Sukana likes to carry you around.

He doesn’t like you being on your feet, even though you say ‘I can’t sit in your lap all day, I have to earn my keep’ whatever that means.

When you’re not off in the garden picking fruits or vegetables, or tending to the castle, or by the beach playing with the children, playing in the sand— Sukana will personally come and sweep you off your feet.

Literally.

Why would you need to walk from the yard to library? Why would you need to walk from the bedroom to the dining room? And why would you dare think to put two feet to the ground and move them up and down to get to the bath?

Sukuna will carry you Princess style, in one of his arm, piggy back, over his shoulder— whatever it may be. You don’t need to walk when your with Sukana, all and powerful King of Curses.

Your delicate feet need a break, you’ve “worked” long enough (a long and treacherous five hours away from him).

And when you get up to go be on your lonesome, which isn’t apart of your “work” schedule, he has that all but irritated look on his face. Gripping at your hips to settle you back down into his lap, ignoring his underlings now irrelevant chatter.

“Pet, where do you think are you going?”

You blink, give him a confused look, “I have to go to the bathroom.”

And he’ll let out a disgruntled sigh, waving you off and looking away displeased, “Go quickly brat.”

Sukuna knows human lives are short and fragile, it’s best to take care of your human with care and kindness so they can live a long life and reincarnate to come back to him. You’ve promised your lives to the God. He must keep you in the best condition.

So at the end of the day, when he’s been stuck in meetings, or giving orders all day, he still rubs the soles of your feet like you’ve done years of work.

“Such a strong little thing, aren’t you pet?”

And when you moan at the ache leaving your feet the large man grunts smugly— “Maybe you shouldn’t leave my lap too often, hm little one?”

a/n: the first Sukuna draft to get out the dungeon. I fucking love him, I wanna write more soon.

[yunieeee]

you always knew you had a thing for older men.

It wasn’t just the salt-and-pepper stubble or the slow, practiced way they carried themselves. it was the stillness. the grounded energy. the calm. like nothing could touch them. like they’d been through hell and came back clean, sharper for it.

nanami kento was the embodiment of that.

you weren’t supposed to end up in his bed. it started with drinks after a shared mission, a conversation that lingered longer than expected. you were tipsy. he wasn’t. and yet he watched you like you were a puzzle worth solving. carefully, patiently, without a single wasted glance.

you’d had sex before. enough to know what you liked. enough to know that most guys your age didn’t really care about what that was. they rushed. they fumbled. Some were sweet, but rarely satisfying. even the slightly older ones, 25, 26, still had the attention span of a squirrel and the emotional intelligence of a wet sock.

but nanami?

nanami touched you like he’d studied you. like he had time. like he didn’t need to prove anything because he already knew he could ruin you. and would. he took off your clothes like unwrapping a gift he’d waited patiently to open. every touch was intentional. every kiss a quiet promise.

you thought you were prepared.

you weren’t.

his mouth on your neck, your chest, between your legs. devastating. the kind of slow burn that made you forget your name, arching into him with a gasp so raw you almost felt embarrassed. until you looked up and saw the way he was watching you. focused. like he needed to see what he did to you..

you expected him to be good. he was older, refined, deliberate in everything he did. from the way he sipped his whiskey to the way he looked at you, like he could read every need you hadn’t voiced. But this?

this was beyond anything your imagination had dared to stretch toward.

you're on your back, legs spread and trembling over Nanami’s shoulders, body pinned to the mattress like you were meant to be there. like he built this exact moment out of patience and control and years of knowing exactly what he was doing.

his cock stretches you open with a slow, thick thrust that makes your spine arch off the bed. he’s not fast. not frantic. he moves like a man who knows he doesn’t have to rush, because you’re already falling apart under him.

“good girl,” he murmurs, voice low and steady, as if he’s rewarding you for every helpless sound you make. “you can take it. i’ve got you.”

and you do. you take him. inch by devastating inch. because you can’t not. he fills you in a way no one else ever has. deep. heavy. the kind of depth that forces a raw, gasping whine from your throat with every stroke.

your nails claw weakly at his forearms, the only parts of him you can reach in this position. he’s got you folded open, helpless, a mess of sweat and slick and trembling limbs beneath him. his hips grind slow, controlled, like he’s studying how each angle wrecks you.

“too much?” he asks, and it’s maddening how composed he sounds while you’re unraveling like silk in his hands.

you try to answer, but nothing comes out but a high-pitched, wrecked little moan. your head tilts back. eyes flutter shut. brain static.

he leans in closer, the weight of him pressing into you deliciously, lips grazing your jaw. “words, sweetheart.”

you manage a shaky, whined: “don’t stop. please. don’t stop.”

his lips curve into the faintest smirk against your cheek, and suddenly his thrusts get deeper. not harder. not faster. just…more intentional. perfectly timed to make you feel every ridge, every drag of him against that sensitive spot inside you that makes your thighs shake.

your vision goes blurry. your mouth drops open in a silent gasp. And then it happens: Your brain short-circuits.

everything goes white-hot, your body locking around him with a desperate cry you barely hear. your climax rips through you with a sharp, clenching heat that leaves you breathless and boneless, twitching beneath him as he fucks you through it with devastating care.

“beautiful,” he breathes, watching you crumble.

you’re too far gone to even feel embarrassed at how wrecked you sound. you’re crying a little overstimulated, completely taken, the term “fucked dumb” no longer a meme, but a diagnosis.

he slows down. pulls out just enough to let you breathe, but not leave. his hands slide down your thighs, soothing, grounding.

and then, without warning, he’s back inside you. slower this time. softer. but it still hurts, in the way pleasure hurts when you’ve already come once and your nerves are still singing. you whimper, and he kisses your shoulder.

“i know, i know,” he whispers. “just one more. you can do one more.”

you don't know if you're nodding or crying, but it doesn’t matter. he keeps praising you, guiding you back to that high again with practiced care and relentless control. and when you finally collapse beneath him, thighs shaking, tears wet on your cheeks, he kisses you like you’re something fragile he’s honored to break.

he doesn’t leave right after.

he wraps you in a warm, damp towel and carries you to the bath. cleans you gently. makes you tea. sits beside you as your body catches up with your soul.

and when he says, “you’re safe,” you believe him.

and you realized then: you’d never be able to go back.

how could you? to twenty-something-year-old men who needed validation, who didn’t know what to do with a woman who needed to be held, not just touched? who didn’t understand the ache that came from deeper wounds. wounds that wanted comfort, not conquest?

nanami wasn’t just good in bed.

he understood. he moved with restraint, with precision. the kind of man who didn’t need to be loud to leave a mark.

you looked up at him. his calm, unreadable expression softened only by the way his thumb brushed over your hip. and it hit you:

you weren’t just ruined for boys.

you were recalibrated.

no one else would ever compare.

[yunieeee]

toji twirling a curl around his finger as he listens to you talk about your day . toji tucking your hair behind your ear as he leans in to kiss you . toji pushing away your hair so he can press kisses against your nape . toji holding back the stray strands that keep falling in front of your pretty face with his big hands while fucking up into you . toji moving your hair out of the way so he can properly watch you fall asleep . toji tojitoji toji

[yunieeee]

Poor Satoru doesn’t know what to do with himself when you get like this.

When you're too sleepy and too stressed to play with him, when your eyes are heavy and your voice is sharp, snapping out little “not now”s and “please, Satoru”s that sting far more than you'd ever intend. He knows it’s not about him. He knows. But still.

He stands there awkwardly at the edge of the bed, fingers twitching at his sides, his usual brightness dulled into something quiet and anxious. You’re lying on your stomach, cheek pressed to the pillow, body still and closed off in a way that tells him you’ve hit your limit.

But he still needs to touch you. He has to.

“Is... is two finger touch okay?” he asks, voice unusually soft. Baby blues raking your body.

You don’t answer, not really. Just make a tiny noise, more exhale than anything. But it’s not a no.

So he climbs into bed with a surprising amount of gentleness. No attempts at disturbing your peace. And then he reaches out, dragging just two slender fingers down the curve of your spine. Featherlight. Barely there. Up and down. Up and down. Sometimes he traces your sides, and when you twitch or tense, he’s quick to shush you, soft, pink lips brushing your shoulder.

“I’m not gonna do anything,” he murmurs. “Just touching. Just this.”

Eventually, when you don’t push him away, he lets out a quiet breath and shifts. Lays down beside you - not quite beside, really. More like on you, curling his long frame to fit your back like a blanket. His cheek finds home against your lower back, arms tucked in as he breathes you in.

“I love you,” he whispers into the silence. “Even when you’re crabby. Even when you’re too tired to look at me. I love you, I love you, I love you.”

He stays like that, still and soft, waiting. Waiting until you’re ready to turn around. Until your hand reaches back to tangle in his tousled white hair. Until you mumble that you're sorry, or maybe just press your face into his chest without saying a word.

He’ll wait forever, if that’s what it takes.

Because sure, he doesn’t like it when you’re cranky. But loving you means being close even when you can’t meet him halfway. And if this is all you’ll let him have for now - two fingers and a cheek pressed to your back- then he’ll take it, gratefully.

Because that’s still you. And Satoru doesn’t know how to be without you.

[yunieeee]

Part I

"Hey, uh-uh. What did we say about stealth-ing in the house?"

Crap. You stand in the kitchen for a few seconds longer, thinking about how you're going to play this off.

"I didn't even make a sound, your hearing is amazing, baby!" You say, attempting to boost your lover's ego to distract him from this for now.

"Didn't hear you, I saw your shadow scurrying after you into the kitchen. Now quit stalling and come here."

"I reek of sweat and blood. Maybe I should shower first," you divert once again.

"Get over here or I'm coming to you, and I'm not gonna be a teddy bear about it."

You sigh and put your duffel bag down, dragging your tired feet to the living room. Before Toji can get a look at your mug, you put a hand over your mouth, not touching, just hovering over it. Finally, you step out into the bright, warm toned light, and look at Toji, like a bunny in the face of an enormous bear that could crush it with a single paw.

He crooks a finger, beckoning for you to come closer. From where he sits, he can see a scratch beneath your eye and one on your cheek.

"I know you're tired, but I need to see my girl," he says, making your heart shake like a rattle.

You drop your hand and take more purposeful steps towards him, ready to crawl into his embrace like you always do after the day begins to close out.

"Yeah, come here, baby," he says, making room for you on his lap, and sure enough, you weren't lying. As you settle onto his lap, the combination of your sweat and the irony smell of the dried blood on your clothes is potent. Does that stop him from holding you tight? Hell no, he handles you like you're fragile, because he knows you are. Your tiredness allows you to be that way after a long day of showing the contrary. He can't ever stress enough to you how much he understands that.

"What'd you eat for lunch?" Toji asks, rubbing your back while you rest your head on his shoulder.

"Lance and his wife invited me to go get ramen with them, but I wasn't that hungry then, so they gave me a couple granola bars," you mumble.

"Nice people. They really do treat you like you're one of their own kids."

"Mhm," you hum, turning your head to bury your face in his neck. He smells like safety and comfort. You come home to this every day.

"Let me see your face, doll," he murmurs. "I'm not gonna yell at you or get you in trouble or whatever bad thing you think is gonna happen. Just wanna see your pretty face," he says, in response to your hesitance.

You sigh, nervous for no reason. It's really not that bad, but it is noticeable. Slowly, you pull away from his neck and sit up for something you think will be incredibly anticlimactic, but... anything for Toji.

He stares at you, long and hard, inspecting every inch of your face for deep serious cuts. So far the only major damage is your busted lip.

"Are you mad?" You ask, as he runs the pad of his thumb over a thin, jagged cut on your cheek.

"No reason for me to be. Does your lip still hurt?" He asks, unable to look away for too long. Your lips are one of his favorite things to look at and he stares at them plenty, so it's not unusual for you.

"Not really," you respond, shaking your head. "It hurt like a bitch when it happened, but not so much anymore. Lance had some extra disinfecting wipes in his glove compartment so I cleaned it up a little on the way here. I'm fine."

"Hm. Any serious damage to your body?" Toji asks, massaging your shoulder blades, instinctively. "Arms, legs? How's your back?"

"I'm fine, baby," you insist, smiling at all the concern he's showing.

"Any scrapes on your hands or knees?"

"Probably, but i'm okay. Seriously, i'm fine."

"How 'bout a warm bath?" He suggests.

"I'm f--" you start, expecting another question of concern. "Wait, um..."

"A nice... toasty bath," he utters softly, carefully, to further entice you. "with those relaxing bubbles you love so much."

It sounds amazing, but only one thing could make it perfect.

"Can you stay with me? In the tub, I mean," you clarify. "I'll do a pre-wash. Get all the nasty off and... and i'll call you in once i'm done. You don't have to, of course," you add, a sheepish laugh following. "But, I would love you a million, billion, gajillion, if you did.

"Sounds perfect, doll," he agrees, leaning forward to kiss your cheek. Normally he would turn that last bit into a full fledged banter about you loving him when it's convenient to you, but your energy is limited, so he'll put it on hold for now. "You let me know when you're ready."

Despite him asking that of you, he does not let you out of his sight at all. He leans against the doorframe of the bathroom and watches you. Watches you remove your worn, filthy clothes. Watches you scrub your body down, head to toe. Your back has faded scars scattered over it, you have little cuts just below your ribs and scratches on your waist, and yet Toji thinks you've never looked more beautiful. He can't imagine you without a few scuff marks. He met you that way, he knows you that way, but all in all, he loves you in all ways, whether you've been grazed, you're healing, or scarred.

This may be one of his favorite rituals to do with you. Lying back against the tub with you sitting between his legs and resting against his chest, you jump between guessing how you both got your scars...

"Hm... severe rope burn?"

"Yeah! How'd you know?"

"You know the one I have on my ankle? Yeah, rope burn. Your turn."

"That's a blade's doing, isn't it?"

"Nope, this is my chains' doing. Yeah, I know, I know. Laugh it up, doll. Even the best mess up sometimes."

...and appreciating the fact that you're both so good at what you do, that you're still here.

"Gimme a kiss, baby," Toji requests, smirking fiendishly as his gaze darts between your eyes and your lips.

"Mm-mm," you say, shaking your head with a teasing grin. "Not with my lip all ugly like this."

"Not ugly. You look hot as fuck. Now give me a damn kiss."

You give him a quick peck, and he scoffs like you offended him with something so chaste.

"You wanna try that again, and give me a chance to, you know... be ready?"

"No, not really," you jest, gasping when he pinches your butt under the foamy water to show his disapproval of your response. "Alright, alright. Just be gentle," you plead, caving in to his needs, as usual.

"Yes, ma'am," he responds, grinning victoriously as he pulls you in closer to get a proper taste of your lips. They're soft as ever, despite their current, temporary appearance, and kissing you is as sweet and satisfying as it's always been. Nothing will ever change that for him.

"Fucking love you," he murmurs, the words a soft breath against your lips.

"Love you, too, baby," you respond, before going in for more.

A/N: Reader and Toji have different handlers. Lance is reader's handler, Toji still works with Shiu.

[yunieeee]

old repost!

thinking about sunarin x “pretty girl” reader. it’s his favorite nickname for you, partly because it makes you get all blushy and cute, and partly because he needs you to hear it. in his eyes, you’re the most gorgeous thing to have ever walked this planet, no matter how he sees you. it’s early in the morning and your hair is messed up, and he wants to grab your face and plant kisses all over your soft skin. it’s late at night and you’re yawning, trying to cram for an exam, and he wants to sit behind you to hug you and massage your shoulders. he looks at you through his phone lens. through his glasses. through his vintage camera that he only uses to take photos of you. it’s all rose-tinted glasses to him, only it’s real. you are real, and so ethereal, and so beautiful. “pretty” actually doesn’t even begin to summarize what you are to him. he only chose it because the first time he called you that, your reaction was so adorable. your nose kind of scrunched up, and a blush spread across your face, and you looked away as you mumbled “‘m not pretty”.

so now he makes it his goal every day to tell you that you are. scratch pet names like “baby”, “pretty girl” is now the definition of you and you are the definition of “pretty girl”. but when he calls you that, it’s not with the nonchalance that he normally speaks, or the nonchalance that one would usually employ when saying that phrase. in just two words, he’ll pour his heart out to you, claiming you as his and declaring him as yours. you are his. you will always be his.

pretty girl.

divider credit to @enchanthings-a

[yunieeee]

𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎

tags: ★; fluff + sfw ／ ☁︎; angst + sfw ／ ꩜; smut + nsfw.

| ONE SHOTS

morning after. ★

do not interrupt // part two. ꩜

bills, bills, bills. ꩜

do not touch. ꩜

smoke break. ★

me and my husband. ☁︎

first time aftercare. ☁︎ & ★

expressing himself. ☁︎ & ★

happy birthday ★ & ꩜

coming home ꩜

perv roommate ꩜

virgin!gf ꩜

| DRABBLES

what is love? ★

late night drive. ★

grumpy + sunshine. ★

watching tv shows ★

crack a smile ! ★

w/ bratty & whiny reader. ꩜

gym instructor toji. ꩜

pervert toji. ꩜

finger sucking ꩜

realising he’s in love ꩜

measuring ꩜

outlaw!toji ★

helping him work out ★

first thing in the morning ꩜

| HCS

driving me insane; fetishes ꩜

no panties, no problem; in public. ꩜

w/ nympho reader \\ nympho reader part two. ꩜

pussy slapping ꩜

height difference ★

| SERIES

parenting 101. ★

heartstrings ‘n bullets ★ ☁︎ ꩜

[yunieeee]

She’s like Sonic

[yunieeee]

just don't imagine him moving your hair away from your neck so he could kiss it

[yunieeee]

she gets it

[yunieeee]

*squeaky toy noises*

[yunieeee]

im like a kitten, i need attention and i need to curl up next to you and i need you to pet me and tell me im cute

[yunieeee]

I WANT THIS SONG PLAYING WHILE I DO THIS MAN

ALEXA PLAY DRESS 10 HOUR VERSION