adoring-jjk

alyssa • 24 • follow from @marvelousmain

[adoring-jjk]

ADORING-JJK ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ alyssa ⋆ ★ black ⋆· ༘ twenty-four

❏ masterlists | [ inbox is: open to suggestions] ★ my recs! + smau recs!

→ hq blog : @adoringhaikyuu | mha blog : @adoringmha

recent works:

⇢ sukuna is always fixing your clothes for you

⇢ sukuna doesn't want you to be quiet in bed *

⇢ nanami really likes you in tights *

⇢ sukuna doesn't like when you talk bad about yourself

[gojosteddy]

⋆˖ you’re mad at husband!kuna for teaching your teenage son how to flirt like a certified player (ꐦ ¬_¬) 🗯️

you were in the kitchen washing dishes when you heard it.

the low rumble of sukuna’s voice drifting from the living room, talking to your sixteen-year-old son like he was passing down sacred wisdom.

“listen, kid. if you want her to notice you, stop acting like a nervous fool. remember that confidence is everything. walk up to her like you already know she wants you. maintain eye contact. smirk a little. tell her she looks good but make it specific. not some generic ‘you look pretty today’ crap— she’s heard that a thousand times before. instead, look her in the eyes and say ‘you’re a distraction & it’s making me act up’ trust me, girls eat that up everytime.”

your son’s voice came next, sounding like he was genuinely considering this terrible advice. “… and if she laughs?”

“then you’re already halfway there. laugh with her, lean in closer, drop your voice a little. make her feel like she’s the only one in the room. and if she touches your arm? you’ve won. that’s when you ask for her number. don’t hesitate, strike while she’s interested.”

you stood there, sponge frozen in your hand, listening to your beloved husband teach your son how to flirt like a certified fuckboy. by the time sukuna started going on about— ‘if she bites her lip, she’s probably thinking about kissing you’, you’ve had enough.

the dish towel barely had time to touch your hands before you tossed it aside and headed straight towards the source of your headache. a few seconds later, you were standing in front of the living room couch with your arms folded tightly across your chest.

“ryomen sukuna!”

both father & son looked up at the same time. your son immediately looked guilty while sukuna only raised an eyebrow, not looking remotely concerned by your presence.

“yes, wife?”

you pointed at your son. “go to your room!”

he didn’t even argue. he scrambled up the stairs like the couch was on fire. once he was gone, you turned back to your husband, eyes narrowed.

“our bedroom. now.”

sukuna pushed himself off the couch, trailing after you with the confidence of a man who thought he’d done nothing wrong. as soon as the door clicked shut behind you, you hissed. “are you serious right now?!”

“you’re teaching our sixteen-year-old son how to flirt like some sleazy player? ‘you’re a distraction & it’s making me act up’ seriously, kuna?”

sukuna leaned back against the headboard, arms spread along the mattress; looking completely unrepentant. “what? the kid asked for advice & i only gave him good advice.”

“… good advice?” you stepped closer, jabbing a finger at his muscular chest. “you’re deliberately teaching him corny pick-up lines while convincing him that every conversation with a girl is some kind of strategy game. do you want him turning into you?”

sukuna’s smirk widened, clearly amused by your scolding.

“and what’s wrong with turning into me?” he asked, voice dropping into that low, sultry tone he knew had an effect on you. “i got you, didn’t i?”

you glared at him, refusing to let him charm his way out of this.

“you got me after years of being an absolute menace. i don’t want our son learning how to be a menace too. he should be respectful, sweet & genuine. instead of using corny pick-up lines on poor girls who don’t know any better!”

sukuna reached out, grabbing your waist and pulling you down onto his lap despite your half-hearted protest. “… relax, woman,” he murmured, beefy arms wrapping around you. “i only told him the truth that girls do like confidence. but i also told him if he ever makes a girl cry, i’ll kick his ass myself.”

you rolled your eyes, still sitting stiffly on his lap.

“you better have.”

he chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to your neck— slow and tender, the way he always did when he was trying to butter you up (which somehow always works). “… you’re cute when you’re mad at me for corrupting our son,” he whispered against your skin, voice gravelly.

“it makes me wanna remind you exactly who you married.”

you smacked his chest at that, but you didn’t pull away.

“s-shut up…”

“you love me,” he teased, grinning against your neck. “admit it, you fell for a menace.”

you rolled your eyes, but your arms found their way around his shoulders anyway.

“unfortunately, yes. but that’s not the point right now.”

he let out a dry chuckle, arms tightening around you. “good... now will you stop being mad at me?”

⨳ 𝓷𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: thank you to those who gave me suggestions on what to include for the blank line 😚 i ended up going with @user020707 (idky i’m not able to tag :c) line!!!

© gojosteddy | please do not repost, plagiarise or modify any of my works

[paperellina]

distracting toji while he's on the phone...♡ (rough!toji x sweet!fem reader)

tojis halfway through a phone call when you climb onto the couch beside him, immediately curling into his side while he keeps talking, one arm stretched across the back of the cushions behind you and his phone pressed to his ear.

its something about money, something about work, something thats got his brows pulled together while he listens with that oh so familiar rough expression.

"yeah, I heard you," he mutters "then tell 'im I aint payin extra."

meanwhile, youre completely occupied with him.

your fingers find the side of his hair first, gently combing through the shorter strands near his temple while your cheek rests against his shoulder. toji keeps listening while you continue absent mindedly playing with him. your hand drifts lower, tracing the line of his jaw before finding his collar, smoothing it down and then fiddling with it again for no reason other than you just felt like touching it.

"because that aint what we agreed on." he says into the phone, voice steady despite the fact youve now moved on to his hands.

you turn one of them over in your lap, running your thumb along old scars and rough knuckles, tracing every line in his skin with a quiet concentration while the conversation continues.

the man on the other end keeps talking, and toji tries listening.

then your fingers slide to the rolled sleeves of his top, adjusting them before trailing slowly down his forearm, following the muscle there with light touches that dont mean much to you and mean everything to him.

his jaw tightens slightly. "yeah," he mutters into the phone, "mhm"

by now youve found his hand again, interwining your fingers with his, turning them, tracing the shape of his thumb while leaning a little more heavily into his side.

youre not even looking at him, youre just happy sitting there, all soft and sweet, quietly occupying yourself with whatever part of him happens to be within your reach.

the silence on the other end of the call stretches.

"...you still there?" the guy asks.

toji blinks once, realizing he hasnt heard a godamn thing for the last minute. his eyes drop to you where youre curled against him, happily playing with his fingers while resting your cheek on his shoulder.

"yeah." he says "keep talkin."

but his free hand is already settling over yours, thumb brushing across your knuckles while he looks down at you for a second longer than necessary, then he leans over and presses a rough distracted kiss against the top of your head without interrupting the call, squeezing your hand once before settling back into the couch.

toji still isnt listening to the man on the phone, not with you tucked into his side playing with his hair, his sleeves, his hands, every soft little touch way too distracting.

taglist: @@jjakeysheart @rkivesvs7 @c6choso @shea354 @kiwicherry04 @choco-chipp @tojibunnyy @tojisgdgirl @xoxocherrybabyy @dearwyn @pigtaileddolliee @tojiful @heartcandyslxt @lisabelhyhn @chaeisrichnow @chewiebee @tojisfiancee @retiredpanda @bbvvvy @princesplatano @jaehyunsleftnut @lightandfuryauthor @fysalia @alinacoke @ssrist @bl1ndv3lvet @lisa200976 @vheartsfushi @amarislovesmcdonalds @1ana22 @cherrieslovess @arcanehellokittyforlife69 @lov-3-x @str4wb3rrylife @whoiskaykay @sugurusbun @tojioppshotta @yumyumyu @yvesapple4 @733164 @peonysecret @pr1ncessthug @magicalpeenpoo @unknownowlbokutoswifeyy @eepynataly @bowiesprettieststar2 @bagleaf @lacedwithsarcasm @wholemeltt @ipoopedmypants47

© 2026 paperellina - all rights reserved. do not plagiarise, translate, or feed into any form of ai.

[kamislop]

long distance relationship - suguru g. 18+ MDNI!!!

“i missed you so fucking much, suguru,” you throw your arms around his neck, burying your face in his neck. “gosh, it feels like it’s been centuries.”

“oh baby, i’ve missed you too,” he coos, pressing his lips to your hair. one of his arms envelop you, the other still holding the heavy duffel bag around his shoulder. “can i put down my stuff? or are you going to cling to me like a baby monkey?”

you whine something unintelligible into his skin, making him laugh. oh, how he’d missed you. rubbing your back in soothing circles with his thumb, he lowers his head closer to your ear. “just let me take my coat off and i’m all yours, okay? i’ll unpack later.”

you unlink your arms and take a step back, watching suguru shed his long coat, revealing a navy blue turtleneck sweater and black slacks. the apartment finally feels right with him filling the space again, carrying that familiar, comforting scent that you associate with home.

just a little longer of this, you remind yourself, and the next plane will be a one-way ticket.

“hey, something’s wrong?” suguru’s honeyed voice pulls you back from your thoughts, and you shake your head. “not at all. you’re here, how could anything be wrong?”

he smiles, then open his arms for you to throw yourself into them again, and he can finally hold you right. every inch of you molding perfectly to every inch of him, as if it was exactly where you belonged, all along. you breathe in the scent of his cologne, face smushed into his chest like you needed it to breathe.

his long fingers map out the outline of your waist, soothing in their trail, committing everything to memory even if he knows you better than he knows himself. “missed you so much, pretty girl,” suguru peppers light kisses over the crown of your head. “have you been good while i was gone?”

you look up at him with a grin. “mhm!” but once you meet his face, half-lidded eyes and the corner of his mouth curled up slightly with that smile. “yeah?” he hums. “want to show me?”

apparently your bedroom was too far for suguru’s liking, the couch a much more appropriate solution to have your pretty body folded in two, knees grazing just shy of your ears like he instructed your to hold them. his nose is pressing against your clit, puffy and sensitive after your orgasm, but his tongue is still deep in your hole, drawing out the lewdest squelches.

“s-suguuuu—” you sob, choking on your own breaths. “fuck, ngh— ‘s too much!” you wish you could card your fingers through his silky, raven hair, but he keeps it tied in a messy ponytail to keep it out of his face, the whole lower half glistening with your slick.

and you wouldn’t be able to move your hands even if you wanted, keeping them tightly wrapped around the underside of your knees. your hamstrings have been screaming in protest, but the way suguru’s greedy tongue is lapping at your soppy cunt overrides the pain.

“suguru,” you plead again, a salty tear trailing down your parted lips. “p-please…wan’ your cock now, please—”

“oh really?” he purrs, finally withdrawing, big hands are still cupping the globes of your ass. “you know i just wanted to make sure my pretty girl was ready to take me properly.”

your clothes - along with his - lie in a messy puddle on the floor, but suguru still has his boxers on, stretching across his throbbing erection when he stands back up on his feet. you’ll never get tired of this sight— all chiselled muscles, the fine work of art of some power up above, no doubt.

“—because there’s something i’ve been meaning to keep as a surprise, so i hope you’ll be able to forgive me,” his words pull you away from your daydreaming once more, brows furrowing in a questioning look. you finally relax your legs a bit, shifting from your cramped position.

“a surprise?” you tilt your head, eyes following suguru’s descending hand, fingers hooking into the waistband of his boxers before he tugs them down. “it’s…it’s still a bit sensitive, i honestly don’t know why i listened to satoru’s dumb idea but i thought—”

”oh. my. god.”

your jaw is positively unhinged, eyes wide and focused on the metal bars protruding from underneath the skin of the underside of suguru’s cock.

“you got a fucking jacob’s ladder!?”

his cheeks turn a pretty shade of dark pink, suddenly feeling too self-aware and flustered. “is it…is it bad? i didn’t really have any feedback on it since i got it other than watching myself in the mirror, it’s not like i was going to snap pictures and send them to satoru.”

“let’s be real, he would’ve done it,” you snort. suguru chuckles, “yeah, he would’ve.”

you sit up, face only inches away from his pierced shaft. “did it hurt when you got it?” you ask, fingers coming up but not quite touching just yet. “a bit…” he pauses. “a lot. but it’s fine now, it healed pretty well, you can touch it.”

your hand tentatively wraps around the base of suguru’s cock, the hiss he draws in between clenched teeth causing a wave of heat to rush deep in your belly. you angle it forwards, then lean over to press the lightest kiss to each piercing, smiling when he starts huffing n’ puffing.

“baby…” he whispers, hips jerking involuntarily, body craving more of your touch. your tongue rolls out, licking a looong stripe along his pretty flushed tip, collecting a salty bead of pre. your eyes gleam with something feral when you look up.

“i want it inside, suguru.”

he doesn’t waste a moment, shedding his boxers in record time before he’s manhandling you on all fours. the cushions force your back into an almost painful arch, cheek pressed into the leather of the backrest. you hear suguru spit once— twice, the first to coat his tip, the second right in your hole, still shiny from your earlier release.

“i have no idea how this might feel for either of us, so tell me if it hurts or if it’s uncomfortable, okay pretty? fuck…so pretty and wet for me.”

your answer slurs into a moan when the fat head of his cock presses against your cunt, velvety walls fluttering with hunger, already trying to suck him in. “oh fuck, suguru!” your hips move backwards, needing him to stuff you full, but he stops you with a large palm smacking! down on your ass.

“aht, aht,” he warns. “patience, my love. pussy’s been missing her sugu this much?”

but you can tell he’s holding back as well, allowing himself slow half-thrusts, easing into your drooling cunt little by little. you bite into your bottom lip with a whine, then comes the stretch.

”fuck!” you’re moaning out unanimously, the first pierced portion of his length slipping in. “did i hurt you?” he manages to ask. “n-no,” you shake your head. “feels a bit weird…g-good weird, though. does it hurt for you?”

“never felt…fucking…better.”

each word is followed by more of his cock filling you up until he’s fully sheathed inside. your walls clench against the textured ridges. “o-oh my god, suguru,” you gasp. “please fuck me or i think i’ll go insane.”

“yes ma’am,” he chuckles, both hands gripping your hips before he goes all in, setting a punishing pace. your hands hold on for dear life to the backrest of the couch, your shrills muffled by the thick leather, and you’re sure the crescent indents aren’t going to leave anytime soon.

the slap of skin against skin is lewd, your pussy gushing with each thrust and forming a frothy ring around the base of suguru’s cock. “so loud, baby…” he stutters between groans, hunching over until his chest is almost flush against your arched back. “don’t want the neighbors to make a noise complaint, now do we?”

one of his hands leave your hips, and soon two of his thick digits are filling your mouth. your lips close and start sucking shamelessly, coating his fingers in copious amounts of spit. “shit, haah— dirty girl,” suguru grunts, head falling on top of yours as he keeps drilling into you.

the piercings have made him way more sensitive, the coil of his orgasm dangerously tight. he doesn’t want to embarrass himself by cumming too soon, but when you’re so deliciously snug around him he can only resist for so long. “forgive me, my love, but i think i’m gonna—”

“please, please suguru!” you cry out, spluttering around his fingers. “please cum inside, i’m close too!”

you’ll be the death of him, he’s sure.

his body start convulsing, a loud groan of your name announcing his release, spurts of thick, white seed spilling deep inside, coating your gummy walls. you topple over alongside him, milking every last drop.

once you both manage to come back to your senses, suguru picks you up and walks you to the bathroom to draw a warm bath. when you’re both submerged in the bubbly water, he holds you tight to his chest, peppering the sides of your neck and shoulders with kisses as you update each other on your lives.

“you know, that was a very pleasant surprise. you should do it more often,” you say playfully, looking over your shoulder as he dutifully washes your hair. he mirrors your grin. “i’ll keep that in mind.”

now he’s worried the engagement ring in his suitcase will be anticlimactic.

┊┊a/n. i have no idea how i keep ending up with almost 2k words every time i want to write a quick drabble but oh well

@ kamislop || masterlist ◦ Ko-fi ◦ commissions ◦ requests ◦ taglist

┊┊taglist: @tentypos, @simbaruto, @somethingwebs, @27-awesome-ham-sandwiches, @nightmarenyxx, @vlinzoi, @updownandbatty, @levertons, @zmbkats, @lonelyfooryouonly, @abadbitchblogs, @hairiane-ari, @plutooowo, @mo072806, @taintedsturns, @xoxocelestial, @da1ntyli1ly, @mamashima, @v4mp1r3b4tzz, @love-d-luxe, @tokkushin, @moviecritc, @rengoatku, @amberr0ckz, @satorusane, @spookyeomgoose, @6x-x9, @wannasleeppls, @skybluesskin, @indisuki (thx for beta reading this for me bbg!!)

©kamislop 2026, do not copy, translate or upload my works without credit, do not use for AI training

[paperellina]

gruff toji w his younger gf who triggers the hell out of his cuteness aggression ☹️

gruff toji x younger gf who triggers his cuteness aggression ♡

the couch creaks under both your weight while you stay tucked into tojis side, practically melted against him beneath his arm, cheek warm against his chest while your fingers lazily toy with the collar of his shirt.

tojis trying real hard to ignore how cute you look.

but then you tilt your head up at him with that soft little smile, all warm eyes and sleepy affection, and something in him immediately snaps.

"fuckin’ hell," he mutters.

before you can even react, his hand grabs your face, squishing your cheeks together while he glares down at you like this is somehow your fault. you squeal instantly, giggling when he manhandles you closer, and that only makes it worse.

"aint nothin funny," he grumbles, voice rough while he drags you fully into his lap, one big arm locking around your waist tight enough to keep you pinned against him.

then he starts biting you.

rough little bites against your cheek, your jaw, your shoulder when he buries his face against your neck, all low irritated muttering under his breath while you squirm and laugh in his hold.

every squeal just makes him hold you tighter, and every giggle gets another bite.

he grumbles against your cheek before biting there again. "got me actin insane."

youre laughing so hard you can barely sit still, hands pushing weakly at his shoulders while he keeps mouthing at your face and neck like some irritated oversized dog taking all that cuteness aggression out on you.

his grip never loosens once, and If anything, he keeps dragging you closer every time you laugh, like he physically cannot get enough of you pressed against him.

taglist: @@jjakeysheart @rkivesvs7 @c6choso @shea354 @kiwicherry04 @choco-chipp @tojibunnyy @tojisgdgirl @xoxocherrybabyy @dearwyn @pigtaileddolliee @tojiful @heartcandyslxt @lisabelhyhn @chaeisrichnow @chewiebee @tojisfiancee @retiredpanda @bbvvvy @princesplatano @jaehyunsleftnut @lightandfuryauthor @fysalia @alinacoke @ssrist @bl1ndv3lvet @lisa200976 @vheartsfushi @amarislovesmcdonalds @1ana22 @cherrieslovess @arcanehellokittyforlife69 @lov-3-x @str4wb3rrylife @whoiskaykay @sugurusbun @tojioppshotta @yumyumyu @yvesapple4 @733164 @peonysecret @pr1ncessthug @magicalpeenpoo @unknownowlbokutoswifeyy @eepynataly @bowiesprettieststar2 @bagleaf @lacedwithsarcasm @wholemeltt @ipoopedmypants47

© 2026 paperellina - all rights reserved. do not plagiarise, translate, or feed into any form of ai.

[tteokdoroki]

aali speaking of meeting yuuji during the summer: at my pho place there are like 10 single people that eat there by themselves and the owner is always trying to set us up with each other :sob: anyways. sumemrtime yuuji and u end up really hitting it off

✩꒱ hot girl summer — ft. yuuji itadori .ᐟ

🏁 ꒰ ✩ suggestive ⋆ mdni ⋆ characters are adults. yuuji itadori & fem!reader. summer flings, flirting, confident reader, beach boy yuuji !! -> your summer plans of take out pho and otome games and love island are put on hold when a scheming restaurant owner decides to play matchmaker.

my head is literally spinninggggg oh my god!!!

sobs imagine ordering pho on the hottest day of summer so far, there are electric fans buzzing throughout the restaurant— chirping in between pockets of conversation as you wait for your food to arrive. it lands on the counter with a thunk! and you blink up from your phone where you’ve been checking the temperatures for your walk home — sheepish.

“uh… i ordered to go?”

“not today,” the old lady who knows you so well — who has your order memorised and charged you less on your bad days — shakes her head firmly. “eat in today. come sit.”

“but i have places to be —!” you nearly whine because all you want to do is go home, but you’re already wrapping your wired headphones around your phone and tucking it into the back pocket of your shorts.

she pushes your tray further along the island, hobbling along at a surprising pace for someone much older than you. “no you don’t. you’re going home to play your sad little boyfriend games and your sad little dating shows.” her tone as she directs you isn’t scathing but still firm, reminiscent of your elder relatives back home. “you’ve not no air con. sit. eat. the food is hot.”

for a moment, your mouth opens and closes — agape with shock. because it’s not just any dating show it’s love island … the hottest show of the summer! hot boys and hot girls and a love you can only dream of. any retort you had planned dies on your tongue as you clamber into the squeaky high top chair, red leather peeling and clinging to the backs of your thighs because of sweat. you sit. you eat. and then:

a laugh.

in search of the voice your head turns slightly — catching plumes of pink hair against golden skin, a boy with big Sony headphones wrapped around his neck and his shirt bunched up by his collarbones too. he’s laughing. at you!

and he’s hot. the kind of hot that feels hard to come by these days, he’s relaxed in nature, stylish from what you can tell — you count two ear piercings on the first look and two silvery ones on his chest if you ogle further — he dresses like the kind of boys you’d see on your screen in 2003. not to mention, the angle of his jaw is defined and sharp enough that it could cut if your finger dragged across its edge. you feel like he could be fun, something to tide you over until the easy breeze of september comes.

“somethin’ funny, pretty boy?” deciding to chance it, like one would when they decide to slip from the shade into the summer sun, you clear your throat and reach out to beach boy beside you.

yuuji looks up from his own steaming bowl of pho, grin loose on his lips that are lined with a gentle rouge from the spice. “you think ‘m pretty?”

“as much as you think i’m funny.” you snap your wooden chopsticks in two, rubbing them against each other. “i’m funny, right?”

he’s like a puppy, spine straightening at full alert in the same way a puppy would when offered a treat. “super, soo funny,” the pink haired boy grins, your stomach curls in on itself with want. he’s so fucking cute. “whatcha got there?”

“the special!” a shuffle of your seat and you’re near, sneakers kicking his under the table, knees close to touching. chopsticks swirl in your bowl and fresh coriander seeps into the heat of the air. who would have thought pho could be an aphrodisiac. “it’s the—”

“best thing on the menu, right?” yuuji laughs again and finishes for you — pressing his body closer into your little bubble. the boy smells like beach waves and sea air, he looks like your next catch. “my name’s—”

that old lady comes shuffling back as if she’s part of the conversation, an expert pulling her strings, which is working by the way. if you’d had any less decency you’d be walking him back to your apartment and keeping him there until you’re slick with a different kind of heat.

“his name is yuuji itadori. he comes here everyday. same time. he needs a girlfriend.” the old lady nonchalantly pushes a bottle of chilli sauce towards yuuji. “tired of seeing him in my shop.”

“gee thanks! i bring you good business!”

to bring him back to your conversation, you smile softly and slip your hands over his knees — playfully, feeling his skin burn under your touch. “you on the market, yuuji?”

“for you? any day,” attention returns to you, but he takes a long slurp of his noodles too. melting chocolate brown eyes traversing down your frame in an obvious manner. for once you understand what it feels like to be desired a tall glass of water. yuuji watches the twitch of your thighs as you cross your legs, beads of sweat that run down your tank top as you eat alongside him. “i like funny girls. pretty too.”

“so now i’m the pretty one?”

“the prettiest girl,” he checks you out once more, raw lips between his teeth whilst he ponders his next question. “you got a boyfriend?”

“shit, maybe i’m about to,” it slips out before you can stop it, that giddy giggle you get when you think you’ve met your soulmate in a stranger passing by. “he’s kinda cute. got pho on his face.”

“wipe it off for me?” yuuji leans in and you lick your thumb, swiping the corner of his mouth where sauce lies. “i want your number. be free on saturday for me please, i’m taking you out. you can’t say no.”

someone in the kitchen makes a sound of elation, the chatter in the restaurant ceases inquisitively but you’re too busy nodding a long with dream boat yuuji to care. you put your number in his phone and he texts you a time for your date so that you have his contact too.

“saturday, don’t be late.”

consider hot single girl summer cancelled.

end ! likes are appreciated, but just liking doesn’t do much on tumblr! to support and motivate myself and other writers, reply, reblog and comment if you'd like to see more!! — asks are open to thirsts and thoughts! join my taglist ! love you!

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED © TTEOKDOROKI 2020-26. all fanfics & layouts belong to me. do not copy, repost, translate, feed into ai, or recommend elsewhere.

[adoring-jjk]

sukuna is jealous?

heian!sukuna feels something nasty and angering in the pit of his stomach and he doesn't know what it is. but all he feels as he watches the greenskeeper talk to you is disgust. and a desire to kill.

the lowlife has a pathetic smile on his face and glimmer in his eyes sukuna wants to snuff out for good. and you? you're giving him the time of day, for lord knows what, an irritatingly polite smile on your face as you look him in the eyes.

that peasant doesn't deserve to even breathe the same air as you, let alone look you in your precious eyes. in fact, sukuna should carve his out and feed them to the birds.

you catch your husband's eye and frown in question when he snarls, his eyes even more red than usual.

you excuse yourself and go to your angry lord, placing a hand on his jaw when he continues to glare at the gardener, making the poor man trip over his own feet in fear when he notices.

you turn him to face you and he leans into your touch subconsciously, arms still crossed in annoyance.

"what's wrong?"

"why do you engage with that rat?"

"our gardener?"

"same thing."

you pause, biting your tongue. you'd rather he not refer to people that way, but you know how he is.

"i know that look in your eye." he glances down at you. your voice is soft but knowing, "are you maybe jealous?"

his eyes narrow. "i don't feel pathetic human emotions."

"he's the fifth one this month kuna."

he raises a brow, "and?"

"you can't kill him."

he snarls, "why not?"

you can tell his mind is running dozens of possibilities, the main one being that you'd maybe taken a liking to him. why else would you want to spare him?

"i talk to all the workers, you know."

"they shouldn't even have the privilege of hearing your voice."

you shake your head fondly at his ridiculousness. you lean up for a kiss which he reciprocates immediately, bending down to press his lips against yours, his arms finally unfolding to wrap around you and lift you up.

your legs wrap around his waist as he sighs, squeezing you tight as he licks into your mouth, hungry.

when you pull away, he grunts as if to say, you're not done, but you ignore it, playing with his hair to soothe and distract him. "please, my lord? at least give him another week."

he's about to retort, clearly not happy, but you kiss him before he can get a word out. "he does a good job. and he's finally got those flowers i love to bloom and stay. don't you want me to be happy?" it's a cheap shot, but it's not a lie.

sukuna's jaw clenches. he stares at you for a moment. "...fine."

your smile shines so bright it pierces through his chest. "thank you, my love." you lean in and bite his ear teasingly before you whisper, "i promise i'll make it up to you."

his hands grip you tighter in response. maybe he'll let the idiot live just a little longer.

[adoring-jjk]

ceo!nanami x reader • nsfw

thinking of ceo!nanami taking you on a business trip with him and absolutely pounding you into the mattress of the hotel.

he’s letting off steam after an annoyingly strenuous day of meetings, and you’re so completely submerged into your pleasure you can’t tell how loud you’re being.

your next door neighbor slams their fist on the wall to tell you to lower your volume and have some decorum but you’re too far gone to hear it over your own moans and the sound of your ass slamming into your husband’s hips.

but he can hear it loud and clear and it pisses him off. it makes him glance up at the wall for a split second before defiance takes over. he slaps your ass, knowing it makes you even louder, smirking when your voice echoes through the walls.

he starts going harder and faster, mouth open as he focuses on you, gripping your waist tighter and growling as he fucks you.

“that’s it honey- fuck. oh you take it so well, god. let me hear you.”

[rllyobsessedgirlie]

3 times Frat!Kuna clocks misogynistic fratboys

Summary: Dating a women’s studies major has turned Sukuna into the frat house’s most feared feminist. Now the frat boys can’t make a sexist comment without getting a lecture, while you sit back and watch.

A/n: just fun lil thing i thought of :)

The frat house was unusually quiet, no music, no party, no sports discussions.

This was because Ryomen Sukuna was standing in the living room with his arms crossed, looking genuinely disappointed.

“Did you just call her a bitch?”

Satoru Gojo, halfway through stealing someone’s energy drink from the fridge, blinked. “What?”

“You called that girl a bitch.”

“She literally stole my hoodie after our hookup,” he shrugged him off.

Sukuna pointed at him. “And? Speak like a man. Have some respect.”

The room went silent.

Satoru looked around. “Did anyone else hear that?”

“No, seriously.” Sukuna continued. “You don’t get to call women bitches because you’re annoyed.”

Satoru stared. “Who are you?”

“My girlfriend says that’s misogynistic.”

“Your girlfriend also made you stop saying ‘females.’”

“And she was right, it’s disrespectful. Some shit incels say.”

The entire frat house collectively recoiled.

Across the room, you sat on the couch, sipping an iced coffee and watching the chaos unfold. A smile on your face, because god were you enjoying this.

This was better than reality TV.

Satoru pointed at you. “YOU DID THIS.”

You raised your coffee in acknowledgment.“Damn right.”

———————————————————————————————

The frat party was loud enough to shake the walls. Music blasted through the speakers.

Drinking games to your left, a fist fight to your right; and you were just observing from the kitchen.

And in the middle of it all, Toji was sprawled across the couch with a beer in hand.

His girlfriend was standing nearby talking to some friends when Toji waved his empty can in the air. “Hey.”

She glanced over. “Yeah?”

“Grab me another beer.”

A few people looked over.

She frowned. “What?”

“You heard me.” Toji pointed toward the kitchen. “Get me another beer.”

Before she could argue, another voice cut through the room.

“No.”

Toji closed his eyes. “…God.”

Across the room, Sukuna was already walking over.

You perked up immediately, ready for your boyfriend to set Toji straight.

Sukuna stopped directly in front of Toji. “Hell no.”

Toji looked exhausted. “No what?”

“No disrespecting your girl in front of me.”

A few people turned their attention to the potential altercation.

Toji rubbed his forehead. “I asked her to get me a beer.”

“You ordered her.”

“It’s not that serious, right baby?” He said, trying to save his ass.

Sukuna crossed his arms. “If you want a beer, use your legs, or ask nicely.”

Toji stared, “You cannot be real.”

His girlfriend was already trying not to laugh.

Sukuna pointed toward the kitchen, “Go get your own drink.”

“Or what?”

The entire room collectively leaned forward.

Sukuna grinned. “Or I’ll disrespect your face by punching it.”

You giggled. Only Sukuna could point out misogyny while trying to solve the issue with violence.

A guy standing nearby immediately whispered, “That’s the most Sukuna version of feminism I’ve ever heard.”

Toji looked around the room. Nobody was helping him. Not even a little, most probably in fear of Sukuna.

Finally, Toji sighed. “Fine.”

Sukuna nodded. “Good choice.”

Toji turned toward his girlfriend. “Sorry.”

She raised an eyebrow, suddenly she had more confidence than before. “Sorry for what?”

Toji was clearly embarrassed now, “Sorry for talking to you like that.”

“Thank you.”

Sukuna gave an approving nod. “There. Growth.”

“Shut it,” he said staring down Sukuna. “You know what? I’m getting my own beer.”

As Toji disappeared into the kitchen, the room broke into applause.

His girlfriend laughed and shook her head.

Then she turned to Sukuna. “Thanks.”

Sukuna shrugged. “Don’t thank me.”

He pointed across the room toward you. “Thank her.”

Everyone looked.

You were sitting comfortably on a stool in the kitchen; chin in hand, eating chips like you’d been watching a sporting event.

You gave a little wave.

“Kuna’s a women’s studies soldier ,” she said proudly. “I teach him everything I know.”

———————————————————————————————

The fraternity and sorority had gathered in one room to brainstorm ideas for a charity fundraiser. People were throwing out suggestions.

Raffles. Bake sales. Auctions.

Then Satoru snapped his fingers. “I got it.”

Immediately, you looked concerned, because he never had good ideas.

“We do a joint event with the sorority.” Satoru grinned. “The girls wear maid outfits and serve drinks.”

The room erupted into approval.

“That’s genius.”

“People would love that.”

“Easy money.”

Across the room, Sukuna slowly lowered the energy drink from his hand.

“Interesting.”

“NO,” Gojo yelled. “Let me have this one good idea,” he groans.

Sukuna stood. “Let me understand… the women wear maid costumes.”

“Yeah.”

“And serve drinks.”

“Yeah.”

“And what are the men doing?”

Toji shrugged. “We could do some strength challenge.”

“What kind?”

“I don’t know. Lifting something heavy.” Several people nodded.

“Classic.” Sukuna stared. Then looked at you, looking for approval to go on a rant.

Sukuna turned back to the room. “The women get assigned a service role. The men get assigned a strength role.”

More silence.

“Based on gender.”

The room collectively sighed.

Sukuna pointed dramatically. “Why.”

Satoru finally spoke. “Because that’s what people want.”

Sukuna gasped.

You smiled proudly at your boyfriend, waiting for him to call out their blatant sexism.

“PEOPLE EXPECT IT?”

“Yeah?”

“So we’re just reinforcing traditional gender roles for profit now?”

The room erupted.

“IT’S A CHARITY EVENT.”

“YOU’RE MAKING IT SOUND EVIL.”

Sukuna ignored them. “Misogyny is evil.” He pointed toward the sorority members.

“Why are they the ones serving drinks?”

One of the sorority girls raised her hand. “Honestly, I don’t want to wear a maid costume.”

“THANK YOU.” Sukuna was fully activated.

You were delighted to see how this was playing out.

“Explain to me,” Sukuna continued, “why the men can’t wear maid costumes and serve drinks.”

The room went dead silent, and you almost spit out your drink.

Toji blinked.

Satoru blinked.

The sorority sisters were stunned. “What?”

“The men.” Sukuna spread his arms.

“No.”

“Why not?”

The room burst into laughter.

“If serving drinks is easy money, then congratulations.” He slapped the table.

“The fraternity is serving drinks.”

The sorority girls immediately started cheering.

“YES.”

“MAKE THEM DO IT.”

Toji looked horrified. “Absolutely not, I’m not wearing a maid outfit.”

Sukuna leaned forward. “Fragile, typical response from men. Toxic masculinity, machismo, societal expectations.” He says pointing a finger at different men around the room.

You had your face in your hands, trying to hide your laughter. You had to show support for your boyfriend, but couldn’t handle him naming every term he could think of.

Sukuna pointed around the room. “If the costumes aren’t degrading, wear them.”

Silence.

The sorority girls were having the time of their lives. One of them pulled out her phone. “I’m ordering maid costumes right now.”

The fraternity erupted in panic.

“STOP HER.”

“WE CAN STILL NEGOTIATE.”

——-

Two weeks later, the fundraiser ended up being the most successful event in frat history.

Mostly because nobody could resist paying money to watch a group of deeply embarrassed frat bros serve spiked lemonade in maid outfits.

Toji looked dead inside.

Satoru refused to make eye contact with anyone.

Meanwhile Sukuna carried a tray through the crowd completely unbothered.

His maid outfit fit surprisingly well, as he served you a drink.

Across the lawn, Satoru was being forced to say “Welcome home, master” for a twenty-dollar donation.

The sorority was making a fortune.

Sukuna took one look at the donation total and smiled. “Look how good we’ve done so far,” he said enthusiastically.

“I’m so proud of you,” you said before leaning in for a kiss.

“By the way, I think you should bring home this costume when you’re done here,” you said; snapping the thigh high sock on Sukuna’s thigh.

“Whatever you want baby,” he winked.

Dividers by: @cursed-carmine

[gojosconsort]

︵ ೀ mdni. casual with satoru ( but it’s actually not casual at all )

“stop talking and take off your clothes.”

you cut satoru off, staring at him from the edge of the bed. he showed up at your place talking about some mission, some curse, some dumb shit that happened with his students like you two were actually dating.

“why are you telling me this?” you ask, again. “we’re here to fuck, right? not play boyfriend and girlfriend.”

satoru pauses, then that lazy smirk spreads across his face. “yeah. you’re right.”

he doesn’t waste time. he pulls his shirt off, drops his pants, and pushes you back onto the bed. before you can say anything else he’s between your thighs, spreading them wide. he drags your panties down and buries his face in your pussy like he’s starving.

“fuck,” you moan as his tongue slides up and down, hot and wet. he licks broad and messy, then sucks your clit between his lips. you grip the sheets, hips bucking against his mouth. he eats you like he always does—greedy, sloppy, perfect.

but something feels different tonight.

every time you look down, his bright blue eyes are locked on yours. he doesn’t close them. he watches you the whole time, pupils wide while his tongue works your clit and two thick fingers push inside you. there’s heat there, sure, but something softer too. something that looks way too much like love.

you try to ignore it, but you can’t. not when he stares at you like that.

satoru curls his fingers and sucks harder. you whimper, thighs shaking around his head. without breaking eye contact he reaches up and grabs both your hands, locking his long fingers with yours. he pins your hands to the bed beside your hips and holds them tight while he devours your pussy.

“satoru—”

he hums against your clit, the vibration making your back arch. his grip on your hands stays firm, warm, almost possessive. those eyes never leave your face, even when your thighs squeeze around him and you start grinding against his tongue.

you can’t shake the feeling. it’s not just hunger in his gaze. it’s more. and it scares you how much you like it while he fucks you with his mouth and fingers, holding your hands like he never wants to let go.

[tteokdoroki]

I LOVE YOUR YUJI WORKS and i see u love yuji sm sm sm and i’m here to share a little earworm cuz it’s got me in a chokehold

yuji in boxers… like…. those tight boxers that don’t do anything to hide his outline……

AAUFHFHFHF FAT COCK YUJI

✩꒱ tighty whities — ft. yuuji itadori .ᐟ

🏁 ꒰ ✩ smut ⋆ mdni ⋆ characters are adults. yuuji itadori & fem!reader. handjobs, big dick yuuji, counting the inches, roommates to lovers -> every once in a while yuuji pulls out his tightest, teeniest pair of underwear and every once in a while you’re get curious enough to see what they’re hiding.

thank you sm friend! i love him so much i want to live between his heart and lungs sooo bad idk what this is im feeling Lustful.

yes yes yuuji in those sickening tight white undies. i feel like perhaps he bought them by mistake and only wears them when he’s out of his usual boxers. super tight, hugging the slender curve of his waist and perfectly outlining his girth even though it’s tucked away. you can clearly see whenever he leaks through them because the thin white fabric stretched over the meatiest parts of him barely conceals anything. a darkness patch at the seam always gives yuuji away.

he’d be kind of embarrassed about them, constantly adjusting himself around you, shifting because his balls are practically bursting through the threads. if you’re roommates or best friends, you’ve definitely seen them in the wash or the laundry you do together and he always snatches them up with blatantly obvious red cheeks because they’re stupidly small for him.

and for a while, you think that yuuji really is that small.

until you hear the way his short-term flings cry his name in bed like it’s the only prayer they know. until you start listening out for the quiet, whimpering praise he offers them when they take all of him so well, inch by inch like good girls.

one girl stops you by the fridge one morning, yuuji’s shirt clinging to her curves and covering the fingerpad shaped bruises on her hips. “i don’t know how you live with him without jumping his bones,” she’d giggled, reaching for your milk. “he’s got the whole package, you know?”

you start looking at itadori a little differently. your eyes fall from his face to his print when you greet him after work or in the mornings when he’s back from the gym — attempting to discern the type of underwear he’s wearing based on what shows through his sweats. and you’ve always been touchy with each other, you’re friends and he’s great for cuddles, but now when you’re relegated to his lap during movie nights with fushiguro and his girlfriend, todo and nobara, oh! and maki and yuuta — you can feel the difference in his girth pressed against every time he shifts.

when he’s got those little tight boxers on that struggle to contain his hard on. the one you both ignore.

it’s one of those same movie nights where you cross boundaries for the first time. nobara stays over, too drunk to go home and be on her own, so you offer up your room and hunker down with yuuji because todo’s got the couch this time. in the mix, you some how manage to convince your pink haired roommate that you sleep better when he’s around. not just because he sleeps naked, you know this — you’ve been waiting on it just to see if the rumours are true.

yuuji scratches the back of his neck sheepishly with a soft blooming blush as you undress for bed and you try not to be obvious when your eyes trace the hardlines of his body right down to his crotch. those stupid tight white boxers you can’t seem to ignore now.

“sorry, know it’s a lot.” because you keep staring and he keeps twitching underneath the fabric and you have no idea how to tell him he’s making your mouth water. “i can put some sweats on—?”

you’re all too eager when shake your head no. “i-it’s your room. sleep however you’re most comfortable!”

naturally you end up snuggled with itadori in bed. surrounded by him. an excuse to be close. yuuji in nothing but those evil little boxers and you in morning but his shirt. your face in his neck for safety from the horror movie you’re watching and his arm loose around your waist. and you really can’t help it, when his cock is sitting there all fat and heavy and weepy, kicking because the air in the room is against his feverish skin — your fingers dance down to the waist band playfully at first. you’re touchy. friends do this… but then they hit the sinful swirl of his pink happy trail and everything shifts.

lust starts to bubble within your eyes, usually so sweet and innocent. you just have to know if he feels as big as he looks in them.

yuuji exhales shakily. not looking at you. “you’re not watching the movie, are you?”

a hint. a chance. you take it. “can i touch it?” your ask is a breathless whisper — as light as summer’s breeze and barely there. like a figure in the night. touch him, rub on him, do everything you’ve been thinking about for months.

he’s already straining, clenched at the abdomen to keep himself from cumming from the friction against his inner seam. yet he grows under your inquisitive attention, throbbing in a dull rhythm that calls up your greed as though it were following the beating lull of a siren’s song.

yuuji’s cheeks glow warm in the dimness, a rose tinted flame in the dark. he swallows. “if you wanna… j-just be careful, yeah?”

that’s all it takes.

his head tips back in a filthy shameful moan — pink hair askew like the flutter of petals — and his throat bobs as he swallows down a flurry of curse words once your hand slips past the waistband. your grip curiously stretches the tightness of boxers as your tiny hand wraps around his fat girth. sticky, pulsing with arousal, prominent veins forming indents in your palm.

“you feel so big, yuuji,” your nose brushes his pulse point with the same gentleness you would with your lips for a kiss. it’s as if you’re trying to inhale his life force, tuck yourself impossibly closer. he feels swollen in your hand, cock beating as unsteadily as his heart, and he oozes premature white into the crevices of your finger prints. “sensitive too.”

“nngh, i know,” whilst itadori’s hips jump without his control and forces his length through your first, the weight of his crown drops to yours. the two of you share a view, your slippery hand in his near-see-through boxers doused with slick and precum beading from his sappy mushroomed tip. “s-sorry, fuck. ‘m just so hard and you’re so pretty and you smell so good.” he admits to you quietly in a high pitched whine, like a secret exchanged between two lovers at a rendezvous point. for your ears only. no one else gets to know how wrecked you have him.

the bulbous head of his cock is raw and red, shiny, as it peaks out from the elasticated band of his boxers — only because you’ve stroked him to full hardness. he no longer fits in the fabric. you thumb him there in comforting circles, spreading his arousal in the same manner that drool spreads across your tongue.

long, dark lashes flutter against your forehead like angel’s kisses and you squeeze around every inch that slides through your hold — sharing airy moans the more yuuji leaks against your tight knuckles. “you could make me cum like this, y-y’know? in my boxers like a — fuck — like a teenager,” yuuji stutters, chasing words that don’t make sense on his tongue. hips running after the solace your soft strokes. “makes me feel so filthy, but i’ve been waiting for you. t-to notice? how badly i’ve wanted it to be you touching me like this. i’d do anything for you. anything, baby girl.”

his honesty turns and twists your guts into feverish knots.

“then will you?” you purr artlessly. eyes on the string of drooly white leaking from his sensitive tip. “wanna see how much you cum too.”

“god yes, i can cum. i’ll cum for you. just —!” yuuji’s large hand slips around your wrist and he guides you. helps you tug on the parts of his dick that make him gargle and struggle for breath. he bucks upwards, chasing pleasure and the heavenly solace your fist has to offer. “that’s it, just like that. make me cum, been waiting for so long.”

you’re in awe of it all. the ripple of his abs as he thrusts, the way moans coil in between the letters of your name as they leave his lips. you touch yuuji like you were made for it, jerk him off as though it were instinct. squeezing him every time his hips draw back, circling his tip over and over in languid runs of your thumb around the world.

he takes that as a sign, permission to let go of the unravelling knot he’s been trying to hold together since first laying beside you. on instinct, like his body knows nothing else, he squeezes you tight against him — cheek smooshed against your crown, shaky loud and whimpers in your ear that have your own underwear damp and he snaps.

like a twig with little resistance to pressure.

“oh my god — baby, shit!”

yuuji’s release is sizeable, viscous like lava flow as it rockets hotly up his abdomen and pools amongst the ridges of his abs and belly button. white against gold. his underwear is positively soiled all the way through, crude stringy cum gathering amongst his balls and your wriggling fingers as you jerk him through his high. where his back bows towards the ceiling as though the heavens have come to collect his sweet soul and his thighs shake like his foundations are unsteady.

and even after all that, all the ropes of hot white that hit his skin — he’s still hard and swollen, monstrous in size that suddenly dawns on you as yuuji rolls you onto your back. landing on top.

his shoulders, as they heave, block out the glow of the movie playing behind him — crowding you against the pillows, acting as a shield to hide you away from the world and you feel him heavy against your tummy. cold with slick but heated with arousal at the same time.

your roommate grins, buzzing and slow. “how many inches is the biggest dick you’ve ever taken?”

“i don’t… know? i’ve never measured?” you squeak, suddenly flushed with a delicious mix of horniness and fear. “why?”

yuuji clicks his tongue then, big hand sliding up your face to cover your mouth — his free one guiding his erection between your now parted thighs.

“just wondering, how much of me you’ll be able to take tonight.”

end ! likes are appreciated, but just liking doesn’t do much on tumblr! to support and motivate myself and other writers, reply, reblog and comment if you'd like to see more!! — asks are open to thirsts and thoughts! join my taglist ! love you!

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED © TTEOKDOROKI 2020-26. all fanfics & layouts belong to me. do not copy, repost, translate, feed into ai, or recommend elsewhere.

[hunnismokah]

nanami likes this polaroid of u

[kkunai]

[𝜗℘] :: being bullied because you’re true form!sukuna’s favorite concubine is nothing out of the ordinary. but when he finally notices the harassment, he doesn’t hold back.

゛ tags. concubine!reader, fluff, angst :: wc. 2.2k

“she’s got nothing going on for her,” “right? i don’t get what he sees in her,” “tch—he’s only using her for her body anyway,” “duhh. he can’t be pleased by her looks. i mean, she’s really ugly. i bet he thinks of her as just ‘nother hole to use. . .”

and the shushed gossips continue. the concubines hanging around the garden have noticed your arrival, though do nothing to stop badmouthing you. they can’t care less if you hear what they say.

you’re used to it by now. you’ve adjusted to this life of yours as one of sukuna’s concubines. his favourite at that—which automatically makes you a victim of verbal (and sometimes physical) harassment. the other women in the sorcerer’s harem can’t stand you.

your eyes are glued to the path you’re walking on. your lady-in-waiting doesn’t utter a single word as well, holding her head low as she follows behind you.

you know that the concubines will immediately pick on you if you make eye contact with one of them.

it’s moments like these where you actually miss sukuna. his intimidating presence and (in)direct threats would immediately make the others fall silent. you wouldn’t have to hear them call you nasty names.

though, unlucky you, sukuna’s out on business. uraume is left as a temporary supervisor of the entire estate. to make sure nothing goes wrong. despite all of that, you still find yourself in an unfortunate predicament.

“hey. we’re talking to you,” a female voice rings from behind you.

it isn’t your lady-in-waiting, but the brown-haired woman whom you recognise as one of sukuna’s concubines. her name. . . you can’t recall.

she forcefully pushes your shoulder with two fingers. you stumble backwards, nearly tripping over the material of your kimono. you look down at the hem and notice a subtle muddy stain on the cloth now that you’ve accidentally stepped on it.

you curse the woman out under your breath. the kimono is one of your favorites since sukuna had it made and tailored to suit your taste.

“my apologies,” you mumble politely. you do not wish to make a scene as much as you want to defend yourself. not in front of those poor servants who are simply minding their business and tending to the garden.

the lady scoffs. another one joins. soon, four of them surround you, leaving you no place to escape the situation. with every step you take back, they take one forward. it’s intimidating, though you try to make it seem like you’re not afraid of their words.

“tell me,” the blonde one speaks up and her hand trails up your arm. she twirls a strand of your hair around her index finger before harshly tugging at it. you wince, but she doesn’t budge, “tell me what sukuna sees in a worthless slut like you.”

it’s about sukuna every time. you’re getting sick of the way they treat you because of something you can’t control. you don’t know why he favors you out of all the other women at his service. the way you’re treated because of something that you cannot change is getting frustrating.

the brown-haired woman follows the other lady. she pushes you until the back of your shoe bumps against the edge of a fountain. the grande fountain in the yard that you always love to admire.

the tugs at your hair get stronger. your patience is wearing thin. you take some time to reply to the other concubines, hoping to silence them for now.

you look up at the group surrounding you—a grin tugging at your lips as you decide to taunt them. you scoff, “hah. you can’t blame me for satisfying my lord better than all of you could do together.”

audible gasps sound from the group of concubines. they can’t believe you had the audacity to talk back and be disrespectful about it. the comment you made clearly struck a nerve. or in this case multiple.

“oh, you slut!” the blonde one shrieks, clearly more than upset by your doubts about her services as a concubine.

in a flash of rage, she gives you a firm push, sending you backwards until you fall into the fountain with a loud splash.

your lady-in-waiting is the one gasping this time. she looks at you with great worry in her eyes, not knowing if she needs to go fetch uraume or not. she doesn’t have much say in the matter either way.

you’re humiliated by this. you can feel the water seep into the robes of your kimono, staining the beloved material. your hair is wet as well, the water droplets falling off the ends of your locks.

“pah, you look pathetic,” one of the lower ranking concubines chimes in—giggling at the unfortunate situation you got yourself in. the others follow with their own high pitched laughs, “serves you right.”

you don’t even know what you should do. your body feels heavy because of the water wetting your clothes. your nails drag along the fountain’s surface, trying to compose yourself before you do anything irrational.

you grit your teeth and take a deep breath. you’re shaking, both because of the cold settling over your body as well as the anger simmering inside of you. you open your mouth to say something, only to be interrupted.

by someone you didn’t expect to see any time soon.

“enough.”

the deep tone sends chills down your spine. the volume of the male voice nearly shakes the ground. it’s powerful, dominant and quite aggressive. as if the owner of the voice is pissed. no, more than that.

the group of concubines freeze, not even daring to turn around and face the unexpected visitor. you notice your lady-in-waiting immediately falling to her knees, bowing at the man whom you know very well.

“my lord,” you stammer out, being the first to speak up and address him.

you’re surprised to see sukuna back this early from his business trip. he normally stays away from the estate for days on end.

sukuna’s footsteps are heavy. his strides are menacingly slow. the aura surrounding him makes the others shake—one concubine being smart enough to bow to him. the king of curses is not one to be messed with, especially when he’s angry.

“tsk. have you lost all your respect while i was gone?” sukuna growls, seeing how the group of concubines are frozen in place with fearful expressions on their faces.

the fact that they’re not bowing before him worsens his temper, “kneel.”

he raises one hand and they all knew what was going to happen. you squeal and shut your eyes, hearing that familiar and dooming sound of slashes around you. it doesn’t sound like they’ve hit anything, so you peek through your eyelashes.

you see how the group of women have dropped to their knees the instant sukuna raised his hand in that specific manner. everyone knew just what that meant; death to anyone who’s got their head held high in his presence.

you’ve all seen enough people get decapitated by that same action to know that the sorcerer was not playing around.

sukuna scoffs. he walks up towards you, ignoring the pleas of the other concubines that are begging for his forgiveness. his bottom set of eyes look down at them with disdain before focusing on your figure again.

he silently stands still at the edge of the fountain. his large frame looms over you and you find yourself struggling to get up from the water to bow at him as well. you keep your eyes on your lap, “i’m sorry, my lord.”

sukuna hisses at your apology. a warning for you to shut your mouth. you’re apologising when it’s not your fault and that irritates him more than anything. two of his strong arms reach down to pick you up from your vulnerable position.

the king of curses hoists you over his shoulder like you weigh nothing. he’s not bothered by the fact that you’re dripping wet. in fact, both of his left arms wrap around your torso in attempt to warm you up.

“stay. you’ll all be dealt with accordingly when i return,” sukuna harshly orders your aggressors as he turns around and walks away from the group. he carries you in his arms, not sparing a single glance at his concubines.

he doesn’t even care that he stepped on one of the women’s hands as he passed by. the high pitched shriek only serves to annoy him, which you notice by the way he squeezes your waist in response.

it’s silent between you two for a bit. sukuna steps inside of the estate, his ominous aura making you hesistant to speak. you decide to stay quiet for the sake of keeping the peace. for now.

sukuna’s breathing is a little heavy. he’s trying not to lash out or say anything hurtful. he doesn’t like raising his voice at you—but sometimes he feels like he needs to. especially when you land in situations like those.

“how long has this been going on?” sukuna asks through a heavy sigh. his red eyes are focused on the end of the hallway, where his chambers lay. the veins in his neck look like they could pop out any second now, “and don’t you dare fuckin’ lie to me, y’hear?”

you gulp. you’ve never been so nervous to answer him, ever. you attempt to respond, “uhm, for quite a while, my lord.”

sukuna breathes in sharply at the revelation. the fact that you did not specify your answer only made him think that it’s worse than you’re making it out to be. he stops in his tracks, two hands on your waist as he forces you to face him.

your body dangles in the air as sukuna makes you look at him from up close, showing you that dangerous look in his eyes. you do not dare to avert your gaze from his as he speaks.

“you should’ve told me the moment they started disrespecting you like that,” sukuna grunts. another big hand grabs your jaw firmly, squeezing your cheeks together. you whine as it hurts a little.

he scoffs and releases your jaw with a light push, “pathetic.”

you feel your body get thrown into your original position once more. your head is upside down and your legs hang limply over his shoulder.

you try to defend yourself in a quiet tone, “i thought you were too busy. i didn’t want to bother you with such unimportant matters.”

it’s true. as much as you wanted to tell sukuna about the mistreatment you were receiving, you knew how busy he was attending to more urgent business. you didn’t want to annoy him with your own problems that you could easily solve.

if only you could stand up for yourself.

“nonsense,” sukuna raises his voice in a moment of weakness, though remembers that you’ve probably been through enough for the day. he doesn’t need to add to that by treating you like shit as well.

he simply sighs it off in annoyance, “unimportant, huh? ‘s that how you think i view you?”

you raise an eyebrow at sukuna’s last sentence. you’re at a loss for words. you know sukuna values you more than any of his other concubines—it’s the main reason you’re getting bullied for—yet you never heard him speak to you in such a surprisingly soft way.

almost like he’s disappointed that you don’t realise the extent of his favoritsm. he cares about you more than you actually think he does.

“i-i’m sorry, my lord,” you stutter. you really do not have a clue about what to say. all you can do is apologise as you’re left overthinking that one little sentence he said.

“brat,” sukuna quickly regains his usual stoic and stern composure.

he reaches his chambers and enters his personal bathroom before putting you down on your feet. he looks down at your short stature, feeling the warmth of your body leave his skin once you’re separated.

sukuna watches you shiver. he wants to get angry at you for not telling him about anything that’s been going on while he’s not present, though he simply cannot at the moment.

he’ll let you off the hook for now. but, he’s surely going to give you your own special scolding after he’s taken care of the other concubines. the man grabs a large towel from nearby and messily wraps it around your upper body.

sukuna turns around to walk out of his bathroom, looking over his shoulder once more, “get dressed into somethin’ else before you catch a cold.”

he calls for a couple servants to tend to you while he’s away to take care of those deviant concubines. sukuna watches the three maids rush to your service, preparing you a new set of clothes as well as trying to dry you off.

his gaze lingers on you for more than is necessary, his jaw clenching at the sight of you trembling from the low temperatures you’re experiencing. sukuna’s going to make sure those other women pay for what they’ve done to you.

he leaves the bathroom after that, though not without leaving you an order to follow;

“y’re staying in my chambers tonight.”

[sc6ro]

heian era sukuna and his feelings for you <3

true form sukuna fluff head over heels unaware reader

the first time sukuna notices it, he’s peeling an apple with one of his lower hands, the blade of his nail splitting the skin in a perfect spiral. you’re kneeling beside him, quiet as always, waiting for his next command—but there’s something about the way the candlelight catches the curve of your neck, the way your lashes brush your cheeks when you blink. it’s infuriating. he crushes the apple in his palm without thinking, juice dripping between his fingers like blood.

he doesn’t speak for a long moment, just stares at the ruined fruit in his grip, sticky sweetness clinging to his skin. “my lord…?” your voice is soft, hesitant—like you’re afraid to disturb whatever storm is brewing behind his four eyes. sukuna’s jaw tightens. why does the sound of your concern make his chest feel so unsteady? he should laugh it off, toss the pulp aside, demand you fetch him another. but instead, he finds himself wiping his hand on the hem of your robe, watching the way your breath hitches at the contact. “clean this up,” he mutters, but there’s no bite to it, no usual growl that sends servants scrambling.

you nod, quick to obey, but your fingers tremble slightly as you gather the broken pieces into a silk cloth. sukuna watches, irritation simmering beneath his skin. since when did he care about the trembling of a human’s hands? since when did he notice the way your lower lip catches between your teeth when you’re concentrating? “you’re slow today,” he grumbles, just to fill the silence. you glance up, cheeks flushing—not with fear, but something else. something that makes his pulse thud strangely in his temples. “forgive me, my lord. i’ll be quicker.”

he scoffs, turning away, but the image of your flushed face lingers in his mind like a pesky aftertaste. ”waste of breath”, he mutters under his breath, though he's not sure who he's chastising—himself or you. the silence stretches again, thick with something he refuses to name. sukuna’s upper arms cross over his chest, the motion sharp, defensive. his lower hands flex, restless. he should be bored. he should be irritated. so why is he counting the seconds until you speak again?

the silence between you stretches like the taut string of a bow, trembling with unspoken tension. sukuna exhales sharply through his nose, his upper arms still folded tight across his chest as if to cage the restless drumming beneath his ribs. what is this? he thinks, scowling at the flickering shadows on the tatami. he’s ripped through armies without a second thought, carved curses into the earth with his bare hands—yet here he is, undone by the way your sleeves rustle against the floor as you kneel. it’s absurd. it’s intolerable.

“my lord,” you say again, softer this time, and sukuna’s head snaps toward you before he can stop himself. your fingers are still curled around the silk cloth, knuckles pale with the effort of holding it steady. there’s a smudge of apple juice near your wrist, glistening faintly in the candlelight. he wants to lick it off. the thought hits him like a stray arrow, sudden and piercing. his mouth goes dry. since when do i hunger for anything so petty? he nearly laughs at himself—nearly—but the sound catches in his throat when your eyes meet his, wide and searching.

“are you… unwell?” you ask, and the concern in your voice is so genuine it makes his teeth ache. sukuna’s lower hands twitch, claws digging into his own thighs. unwell? he’s the king of curses, a being carved from the raw fury of the world itself—he doesn’t get unwell. and yet. and yet. the way your brow furrows, the way your breath hitches when he leans closer—it’s all too much. “silence, brat.” he growls, but it lacks its usual venom.

you laugh—soft, startled, like the first ripple of a stream breaking through winter’s ice—and sukuna’s entire world tilts on its axis. he made you laugh? him? the sound is too bright for the dimness of the room, too warm for the cold fury he’s wrapped himself in for centuries. “my lord,” you say, still breathless with it, “you’re staring.” and he is. he’s staring like a starving man who’s just glimpsed sunlight after a lifetime in the dark.

his claws flex against his thighs, the sharp points pricking through fabric. he should tear that laughter from your throat, should remind you who kneels before whom—but the words that spill from his lips are nothing like the ones in his head. “of course i am. is your own beauty so unfamiliar to you, girl?” his voice is rough, too low, the syllables scraping against each other like river stones. he doesn’t recognize himself.

you freeze, fingers tightening around the silk cloth. the candlelight catches the flush spreading from your cheeks down to your collarbones, painting your skin in gold and hesitation. “my lord jests,” you murmur, but your voice wavers. sukuna watches the way your throat moves when you swallow.

he scoffs, leaning forward until his shadow swallows yours whole. “since when do i jest?” his breath fans across your temple, warm enough to make you shiver. one of his lower hands lifts, almost against his will, and his thumb brushes the apple juice from your wrist. the touch lingers—too long, too soft. “you’re gorgeous.” the admission is gruff, awkward in its honesty, like a blade forced into a sheath too small for it.

your breath hitches. “my lord—”

“quite.” his claws dig into the tatami beside your knee, splintering the reed. “that is a fact, woman. nothing more.” but even as he says it, his thumb traces another sticky trail from your wrist to the delicate bones of your fingers, slower this time, deliberate. the candlelight catches the wet shine of your skin where he touches you, and sukuna’s mouth waters like a beast scenting blood. ridiculous. he should devour you whole—not savor the salt-sweet of your pulse beneath his tongue.

this is the one thing ryomen sukuna hadn't planned out. hadn't even considered. hadn't thought possible—until now. until you. spending decades as the king of curses tends to leave little room for such trivialities, but now, with your pulse fluttering beneath his thumb, he finds himself at a loss.

[tyygr]

look at me.

chapter 1

[ TAGS ] — mdni, 18+ only. use of alcohol. use of cigarettes. MISCOMMUNICATION. slow burn. social discomfort. socially awkward reader. self-consciousness. overthinking. anxiety. social anxiety. making out. rough kissing. neck kissing. slang. social media references. 

[ wc: 6.9K ]

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worst thing about being a touch deprived woman? being socially incompetent. your biggest talent is managing to make every human interaction as awkward as possible. your mighty talent has left you with absolutely no game, because you have a crippling fear of even looking into a man’s direction. not only have you given up on interacting with men— they've also given up from approaching you, since you mostly didn’t acknowledge those who advanced toward you. and when you did? you’re either a stuttering mess or you give them the nastiest look without truly meaning to. it’s like your brain short-circuits when a man breathes in your vicinity. in some way, it’s a blessing. because men can be scary as fuck.

still being a virgin in college was definitely not on your bingo card. especially because the ao3 and tumblr fics you read obsessively have you craving things you can never see yourself actually doing. you’d probably be a threat to every attractive man you set your eyes on if you had the guts to even do half the things you read and fantasize about. lucky them, you guess. 

the moment you push open the door to the bakery, a soft chime rings overhead and a wave of warmth greets you like an embrace. the air is rich with the comforting scent of freshly baked goods. behind the glass counter, neat rows of pastries glisten under warm lights.

you hear the gentle hum of conversation, the clink of coffee cups, and the rhythmic whirr of a coffee machine. a baker in a flour-dusted apron slides another tray of pastries fresh from the oven.

“hey, what can I get you?”, finally it's your turn ordering. this shouldn't be a problem. you’ve been preparing yourself for this exact conversation ever since you've stepped foot into the establishment. 

you point at the pastry on the display. “hi, just one of those please”, great! you smiled— you greeted him back— your voice was even— you said please— you smiled— everything is going smoothly! you definitely bagged this interaction. 

“will you be paying with cash or card?” 

“no, thank you.” 

well... good try! 

you stare at each other as your brain processes the words that left the workers mouth. you were expecting him to ask if that would be all. why wouldn't he follow the damn script?

ten dragged out and painfully awkward seconds of looking at each other later, you let out a shuddering breath and reply with a higher voice than intended, “...card.” 

you pay quickly and turn away even faster. the worker calls out a goodbye to you and you wish him a great weekend. it’s tuesday. 

you leave yet another bakery you'll never have the guts to show your face at again. 

that was the first betrayal from your brain that day— never fast enough to actually process the words of people, but always rushing your vocal cords to answer with something that does not make any sense. 

you can feel your heart thudding against your chest as you're trying to stabilize your breathing. that was embarrassing as fuck. 

the second deception of your brain that day was making the moment replay in your mind— ten times more dramatic than it actually was— causing you to not pay attention to where you're walking.  

at this point, you're begging for something to happen—

colliding with a brick wall was not something you intended to do— but said brick wall started acting like it was some well-rehearsed plan you’d carried out to ruin his life. 

“watch where the fuck you’re going”, he spat. 

blah blah blah.. proper name, place name, backstory stuff..

is this really happening right now? 

you’re gawking at him. how can you not? that’s ryomen sukuna— the embodiment of a woman's wet dream. 

part of you is disappointed by the fact that he's wearing a hoodie and not the slutty compression shirts you saw him in once or twice— or more times than you'd like to admit—  around campus. 

your feet are glued to the pavement. the universe must hate you. this close to the man you're usually scared to look at for more than five seconds— but he's on the verge of screaming at you on a busy street. 

you want to apologize— you really do— but not only is your voice seemingly gone, you also can't tear your eyes away from his illegally handsome face— gaze trailing along his tattoos. with a scowl so angry, you don't doubt the thought that he's about to beat you up— 

sukunas staring down at you. first, you run into him— refusing to apologize— and now you're staring at him as if he was the one running into you. the look on your face— such arrogance— could kill a lesser man. but sukuna isn’t a lesser man. he matches you with a glare of his own. he opens his mouth to pull an apology out of you, but you were gone in an instant. making him question if you're running away from him out of fear, or if you have too much pride to utter a simple apology. he glances back for a fraction of a second, confirming that you're indeed walking away— as if you're dismissing him.

“the fuck is her problem..”, he mutters to himself and resumes his walking.

you could win the olympic championship with how fast you're walking right now. you’re never leaving your dorm ever again. how can you embarrass yourself three times in a matter of five minutes? today will be the reason you won't be able to sleep for at least the rest of the week. running into sukuna out of all people? you barely see him around campus— how did that happen? now you absolutely can’t admire him from afar.. 

you are currently walking back to your dorm after a study session at a nearby cafe with your roommate, shoko. 

shoko being your roommate might’ve saved you from complete social isolation. it was hard making friends with your social illiteracy. you always had a hard time warming up to people— let alone start a conversation. shoko was patient with you and never took it against you if you made the moment awkward— she gave you the time to warm up to her. now, you have no problem with talking to her and you're actually comfortable when she's with you.

you were definitely lucky with your roommate. shoko isn’t only fun to hang out with, but she’s also in the popular circle. which means, you have enough chances to step out of your comfort zone— if you ever find the balls to do so. she’s always happy to invite you to parties— even though you always refuse to attend— and save you from awkward moments that you cannot get out of with your lack of skills.

you’re walking in comfortable silence, the smell of cigarettes following you because shokos nicotine addiction screams every five minutes. the silence is suddenly interrupted as shoko snorts to herself, seemingly lost in thought. 

“are you going crazy?”, you ask her with one eyebrow raised. 

she removes the cigarette from her lips and looks your way, “were you trying to flirt with the barista?”

you’re taken aback instantly, “what?! no!” 

she chuckles, “so how come you said ‘nice day with you’?” 

“i was trying to say ‘have a nice day too’!” 

“yeah, yeah”, she laughs. 

you’re looking her way with panic, “did it really seem like i was flirting?!”

she just laughs as she continues walking, her gaze on the road as you still look at her, frantically moving your hands around, “oh my god, i can never step foot in there again shoko! we have to find a different cafe to study at. scratch that, i have to move away.” 

“relax, it’s not that deep. im sure they’re used to your awkwardness by now”, you run your hands down your face and let out a shaky exhale “hey—“ 

bang.

you collide with a pole. 

“oh shit”, you hear shoko saying with a voice like she’s not trying to laugh. weird— you look to the pole— she never hesitates to laugh— 

oh.

you're greeted with a well-built body of a man. 

that’s not a pole— 

you don’t look into his face. you don’t say anything. you turn back to the path and step away, keeping your gaze on the road— 

“the fuck is your problem?” 

oh he’s pissed. 

you stop, but don’t turn around. where’s shoko? 

you want to look back— but then you'd have to deal with the pole— you want to call out to her— but you literally cannot get a sound out. your voice would betray you anyway. and your legs are already betraying you by refusing to move from your damn spot.

“tch”, you’re gonna get beaten up aren’t you? “not gonna say sorry again?” 

you finally turn around, not having been able to take three steps away anyway. 

you dread looking into his face. already shaking and shrinking into your own body. gulping while you look up— and up— 

oh he looks angry. and you’d be an idiot if you didn’t recognize him. 

that’s sukuna. 

ryomen sukuna.

again. 

you managed to run into the same guy twice in a span of what— six or seven days? the guy who’s known to have a short temper and absolutely no regard for the feelings of others. aka, probably your worst nightmare and the last guy you’d ever want to be face-to-face with. again? well— only because he’s scary. you’d love to look at him more. or do something more.. he’s hot as fuck. are you seriously thinking about how hot he is when he’s about to strangle you? well maybe that wouldn’t be so bad. no, that is bad. is it though? you were finally calming down from your last run-in and now it's happening again— 

you can't get a sound out. what are you supposed to say? sorry? he’ll think you’re only sorry because he called you out— you didn't say sorry last week—

his brows are furrowed as he looks down at you. 

he looks like he’s three seconds away from breaking your nose— 

it’s getting hot. you’re sweating. you open your mouth, trying so say something— anything—

“sorry man”, shoko steps in between you with a nervous chuckle. “she didn’t mean any harm” 

you could kiss shoko right now. especially because she looks like she’s gonna piss herself as well. she has one arm in front of you in a protective manner while trying to find peace with a man who could eat you both up without a sweat.  

you can’t tear your eyes away from sukuna. your gaze trails his tattoos— to his clenched jaw— that jawline that could cut you— that slutty compression shirt that doesn’t hide anything but hides everything at the same time— his folded arms that he’s flexing right now— veins standing out along his arm—

he lets out an unamused laugh. “the fuck you both just standing there for?” 

his gaze fixates on you, pinning you to the spot you were already unable to move away from— “are you going to run away again?”, he asks with a low voice, eyes narrowed— sharp as knives. 

you blink. you blink again. mouth opening— 

“she can't talk!” 

huh? 

“uhm”, shokos eyes dart around. “yeah, she's mute man.” 

the fuck? 

“thats probably why she didn't apologize before.”

is she saving you or killing you?

another nervous laugh from her “sorry. bye.” 

shoko takes your arm and drags you away from the scene. 

you’re still in shock. she looks back and walks faster. 

“what the fuck? i’m not mute”, you whisper-shout to her. 

“i know that you moron! i fucking panicked!” 

“well no shit you panicked.”

“well i’m sorry that someone just stood there and also full-on checked out THE sukuna without shame, WHILE he was on the verge of BEATING us up!”

“i didn’t check him out!”, you gasp. 

“you know damn well you did”, shoko mutters through clenched teeth. 

somewhere behind you both, sukunas rooted to the pavement with a confused look on his face. 

it’s been a week. you’ve been acting like there’s a bounty on your head. what if sukuna catches you talking with someone? after two days of skipping classes out of fear of seeing him— shoko had to drag you out of your shared dorm. 

your eyes are checking for pink hair every second of the day. avoiding any kind of human interaction. you were already avoiding socializing your entire life— but this time it feels like your life depends on it.

a part of you is still scared of making a sound in your own dorm.

shoko is sitting on the floor with her back against the couch, typing away on her laptop while you’re laying behind her on said couch and staring holes into the ceiling. 

“do you remember the guy that almost beat us up last week because I walked into him and didn’t have the guts to say sorry?”, you ask shoko, acting nonchalant about it as if you’re not shitting yourself at the thought alone.

her typing slows down for a second before she lets out a snort at the memory. “you mean sukuna? you know damn well who he is. you practically drool every time you see him on campus. ”

“shut up.” 

she laughs again, “I swear you wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t there to save your ass” 

“save me? bro, you made it worse”, you think about the past few days, “seriously, saying i’m mute? i haven’t spoken a word out loud on campus since then.”

“what was i supposed to do?!”, she turns around to you with a gasp.

“i don’t know! not tell him i was mute?!” 

she drags out a sigh. “it’s not that deep.” 

you scramble up from your laying position to fully look her way. “not that deep?! what if he hears me talking!”

“girl, when were you ever near sukuna? I mean, he didn’t even realize I lied to his face so what are the chances he’ll ever find out?” 

you both know that the chance is too high for you keep attending this college. 

you let out a deep sigh as you lay back down, “still thank you, i guess.” 

“pfft— no problem, the look on his face was priceless”, she turns back around and resumes her typing.

you hum, already lost in thought again. should you be grateful in a way? you were face-to-face with sukuna after all. you couldn’t even look at him from afar before that encounter. shoko should’ve stepped in a minute later so you could’ve admired his face a little longer. and his arms. and his abs. 

“he was really sexy”, you sigh out. 

“i guess.” 

you’re both silent for a minute. 

“i wouldn’t have mind if he actually did beat me up—“ 

“i’m about to beat you up”, shoko immediately cuts you off, “you need to get laid” 

“i know.” 

“you know what”, she turns around again. 

“hm?”, you turn your head her way. 

“there’s this party—“ 

“no fucking way.” 

“come on!”, she kneels upright, “you’re not even giving it a chance!” 

“i was scared of parties before this whole thing with sukuna and being mute! how am i supposed to show up to a party now!?” 

shoko thinks for a moment, “what are the chances sukuna will be at the party—” 

“you know damn well he’ll be there.”

“yeah, I know. worth a try though i guess”, she mumbles out the last part, turning to her laptop again. 

“partying means socializing, i just want to get laid”, you whine. 

“well i’m sorry but you have to kinda socialize for that.” 

“ughhh—“, you drag your hands down your face. at some point you will have to step out of your comfort zone, no? but the risk of seeing sukuna is way too high—

“i could ask suguru if sukunas gonna be there", shoko suggests. 

“i doubt that he'd miss a party. and i don't want to go anyway.”

“come onnn!”, shoko pleads, “we can leave the second you feel awkward!”

“so like, two seconds after entering the party?” 

“look—”, shoko starts, “i’ll ask suguru if sukunas gonna be there and if he's not I'll personally help you get laid with a man you can't resist— and hopefully can put up with you—”

you think about it for a second. comparing the anxiety you feel about seeing sukuna to the anxiety you feel about attending a party makes the party seem harmless—

“fine.”

“WHAT”, shoko shouts, “i did not expect you to say yes—”

"don't push it.”

“yes ma’am.”

how did you end up here? the music can be heard two streets away and you feel the bass in your body as you step onto the patio. you should’ve stood your ground and said no. you don't even remember at what point shoko convinced you—

“I’ll personally help you get laid with a man you can't resist— and hopefully a man that can put up with you—”

yeah that part probably did it. 

now you're at some frat party— in a top too tight and a skirt too short— already on high alert for a certain someone with pink hair and tattoos all over his well-sculpted body.

“you’re sure sukuna wont be here?”, you ask shoko for the thousandth time since she showed you the messages between her and suguru, confirming that he really did say that sukuna won’t be here. 

“yes. im sure”, shoko answers with a confident smile, “you just focus on waking up in a stranger's bed tomorrow.”

you also should’ve downed way more drinks during pre-gaming. you’re already dissociating as shoko talks with the guy at the door. he seems to know her and lets you both in. 

the air is thick with sweat and cheap cologne. the lights are throbbing and the bass of some overplayed song rattles the floorboards. 

shoko shoves her way through the crowd of sweaty and drunk people with you arm-in-arm. she quickly finds the way to the kitchen, dragging you along. the floor is uncomfortably  sticky. one step into the kitchen and you throw yourself onto the drinks, desperate to calm your nerves, still angry at the wannabe confident version of yourself that promised shoko to accompany her to this party and not chicken-out at the last second. 

“the drinks are not running away”, you barely register shokos voice as you down your first shot. she looks at you with a grimace.

“the drinks maybe won’t but i sure am about to”, your nerves are still eating you alive as you contemplate downing another drink or shot, staring holes into the counter. shoko lets out a dragged-out groan and yanks you away from the kitchen. 

“I really could have used another drink”, you complain. 

“you’ll pass out before we find you a man”, she reasons. 

shoko still has a half-full red solo cup in her hand as she paves the way for you. you don't even know where you're going. 

she stops at a wall on the edge of the makeshift dance floor, carved out of the living room, granting you the mercy of observing the dancing bodies instead of participating.

“what now?”, you ask her. 

“I have a plan”, she answers without looking at you, still watching the scene. 

“you do?”

“no”, she's still scanning the crowd.

you sigh and also shift your gaze to the scene. 

“i feel like your best shot is dancing”, shoko turns her head to you, “because the second you open your mouth— the party will be over. no offense”

“none taken and absolutely not.”

“you literally give me nothing to work with here.”

“you were the one who suggested this whole thing”, you say with a shrug.

someone walks by with cups in their hand, and you take one— half hoping they don’t notice and half not caring because they were out of sight before they even noticed and you were concealed by the many people around you as they frantically turned around.

what are you even supposed to do? dance? you shudder at the thought and bring the cup to your lips, taking the first sip—

you recoil in disgust but still force yourself to drink it— desperate to ease the anxiety churning inside of you. 

wow. that’s some tasteless ass drink for sure.

and only after you drank the whole thing with big gulps— ignoring the fact that stealing and drinking a random drink could end pretty badly— you realize that it was tap water instead of some tasteless drink like you originally thought.

“what the fuck— who drinks water at a damn party—”

shoko turns to look at you, “from where did you even get that—”

“soo—”, you drag out, “what do you usually do?” 

now that you're here— inches away from the college life everyone seems to dream about— you can't seem to understand the excitement about these parties.

“no idea”, shoko answers. 

“how—”

“i usually arrive, get high and then wake up”, shoko lists.

someone calls out shokos name before you can even answer— how loud did that person shout if you heard it through the music? 

“what’s up?”, she answers. 

it’s satoru— with sunglasses on— inside? at a party? at night? 

you sometimes forget that shoko is friends with satoru— and suguru. two popular frat boys that are the embodiment of your fear of men. one gaze into their eyes and you will go home with a guaranteed heartbreak. so you don’t look— 

“hey! you brought your shy friend with you!” 

you look at him for a second, then look away again. wait— he meant you. you look back again. are you supposed to greet him?

you're just looking between them with a confused look but satoru is quick to change the subject— “we’re gonna play seven minutes in heaven. y’all down to join?” 

you immediately look to shoko with desperate eyes. hopefully she sees that you’re definitely not down—

“yeah, sure.”

oh fuck her. 

satoru starts guiding you both to where the game is played— rambling about something that you don’t care to listen to because you’re about to crash out.

“what the fuck! i don’t want to play!”, you shake shoko and whisper-shout to her. 

“well you’re welcome to sit on the sideline and watch but i’m not leaving till that bottle lands on you at least once”, she tells you. 

“what?! why me!? didn’t you agree because you wanted to play?”, you’re still shaking her.

“fuck no. i hate that game”, she deadpannes, “look at me, im such a good friend”, she exclaims with a proud smile. 

“how is that being a good friend?!”, you hiss, “making me play a game i don't want to, knowing i can’t talk myself out of it?!”

“but think about it— it’s the perfect chance for you! you’re finally gonna be alone with a man! for seven whole minutes!”, she has a smile on her face that could light up the whole party. you never saw her so happy.

“you’ll have to fight me if you want me to step one foot into that closet.” 

“i will fight you”, she sing-songs. 

you need another drink. the water you accidentally drank earlier somehow wiped out every last trace of buzz. 

“hey!”, shoko shouts at you as you snatch her cup and chug it empty with big gulps. 

satoru leads you to the basement and you almost walk into him when he stops suddenly— 

looks like you’ve arrived. 

it seems like the game is already in full swing. you can hear cheering and assume that someone probably steeped outside the closet right now. 

you can still hear the music faintly but you don’t have to raise your voice anymore. everyone's sitting in a circle on the ground with a bottle in the middle— waiting to be spinned again. the cheering calms down and the pair that stepped out takes their place in the circle again. finally you won’t have to shout over the music— 

your heart literally drops to your ass. 

well fuck your life. you won’t be able to say anything because you’ve just met eyes with the current bane of your existence.

you felt the blood drain from your face as dread settled over you.

pink hair— tattoos— hot as fuck— scowl on his face when he registers who you are— yeah, that’s sukuna.

what the fuck?

you look away. maybe your brain is playing tricks on you. was that really water you drank earlier?

a pit of dread opens in your stomach. twisting and churning as you're trying to make sense of the situation. 

why is he here?

you tug on shokos arm. she looks at your trembling hand that's tugging her frantically— then at your face that looks like you've just seen a ghost— and finally follows your line of sight and stops immediately in her tracks. now you’re both standing there like idiots. 

satoru sits down beside suguru— now both looking at you— everyone's looking at you— you feel his eyes staring daggers onto your figure.

“y’all wanna play while standing?”, suguru asks sarcastically.

shoko chuckles nervously and pulls you with her to sit down. 

shoko is sitting between you and satoru. she spots satorus drink— full and untouched. he must’ve grabbed it before he asked you both to join— 

“hey”, she turns to satoru, “you drinking that?” 

“yeah—”, she doesn't let him finish his answer and snatches the cup from his unsuspecting hands— then she immediately passes it along to you.

you don't look at her as you grip the cup like a life line. 

satoru stands up with a dramatic pout, grumbling about something you both couldn't care less about. 

can you even take a swig when your hands are shaking? taking the risk you close your eyes and swiftly finish the drink. you swallow, desperate to loosen up. your vision blurs for a second, but it's not enough to ease the anxiety in you which is caused by the man you did not want to be in the same room with tonight.  

you really want to thank shoko for the drink— but you don’t let out a sound, already knowing who’s sitting across from you. but then you remember the reason you even considered coming here— shoko literally told you he wouldn't be here! 

you’re gonna kill shoko after surviving this— well, hopefully you will survive this.  

you force yourself to sit still— with your sweaty hands in your lap— as you look at the bottle in the middle of the circle and try to drown out everything else. 

as you’re fighting for your life, sukuna watches you.  

you got under his skin like no one else before— that arrogant look you have that he wants to wipe off your face— acting like he's not worth a second of your day. you walked away while others would squirm in place— not daring to act before he does. even after finding out you're mute— he still can't believe you didn't show an ounce of remorse.  

sukuna is sitting beside toji who spins the bottle first, marking him next in line. the bottle spins and the first pair steps into the closet. sukuna couldn't care less about who the bottle landed on. he’s not even sure why he agreed on playing. he was bored, but this seems even more boring. 

the seven minutes start and sukuna is debating on ditching the game altogether when he finds himself looking at you again. he seems to run into you— or well, you into him— a lot in the past few days. he hadn’t seen you before. he doesn't even know your name— he knows shoko, she hangs around satoru and suguru a lot. do they know you too? they must've mentioned a mute girl if they did know you. being mute is a rare occurrence so it must've been brought up, no? how come he didn't hear about it? maybe he just didn't pay attention to the information. how come he hasn't seen you before? you're probably not a party person. he guesses you're closed off since you have little to no way of communicating with others. there’s no way he wouldn't have noticed you. you’re pretty— even if he only saw you in passing he'd at least remember seeing you around before. 

he finds himself irritated at the fact that you don't acknowledge his presence. you barely had a second of eye contact that you broke almost instantly— already seeming to be disinterested in him despite running into him. twice. you didn't spare him a second glance after that brief second. 

he takes a good look at you, eyes narrowing. you're still wearing that arrogant look on your face— dripping with disdain against everything it seems— that he can't seem to forget. he thought about it more than he'd like to admit. you're perched on your knees— hands resting on your lap— skirt short enough to show a dangerous amount of skin. his eyes glance at your plush thighs. you’re swaying slightly and your cheeks are a little flushed— almost impossible to notice. that drink shoko stole from satoru for you was probably not your first drink of the night. she shows you something on her phone then— you grab it from her after a few seconds and type something in— looks like she probably typed something for you to read. it’d make sense if you were the one typing, since you're mute and obviously cant talk. but couldn’t she have just said it instead of typing it on her phone? maybe it's a secret— why is he thinking about it? who cares about what you’re typing about. he removes his eyes from you and focuses on the conversation around him— too lazy to join himself. 

you type a reply to shokos text. ‘maybe we should reveal that you're not mute?’

‘i’m gonna kill you’

shoko reads your reply and offers you a timid smile— only to be met with a death glare from you— straight from a ‘based on true events’ horror movie— that proves you meant what you typed into her phone. a chill runs down her spine. 

she types another thing. 

‘how r u gon play without talking?’  

that’s when the timer goes off. satoru walks back in with a shot in his hand, taking on the job of opening the closet door— since he's already up— and chases toji and some other girl out of the closet. 

you watch toji take his seat beside sukuna— not daring to look an inch into that direction— as sukuna grabs the bottle to spin next. 

wait.

its sukunas turn. 

sukuna is spinning the bottle. 

you're sitting in the same circle. 

you're playing seven minutes in heaven. 

he is too. 

are you just now registering that you're not only in the same room as him— but also participating in the same game?

how high are the chances that it'll actually land on you?

your face pales and your eyes bulge as you realize this might've been the worst seat possible. 

based on the luck you've had with sukuna your chances are slim to none— 

shoko seems to be thinking the exact same thing— realizing a second too late that you should've ditched the game as soon as you stepped foot into this room—

the bottle lands. 

on you. 

what the fuck kind of luck is this? where are the cameras? this has to be a joke— 

“tch”, sukuna stands up, “of course”, he says under his breath.

you can't back out now— what would people think? that you're a coward? a coward that cant talk? 

“the fuck—”, satoru gasps as shoko snatches his shot and passes it to you again. 

she squeezes your one hand as you down the shot with the other. 

then you slowly stand up and start walking toward your grave. 

shoko watches you— she knows you'll never be the same after this and mentally prepares herself for her own funeral as well.

sukuna is already in the closet when you enter and close the door behind you. 

the space is small— but large enough that you're not pressed against each other— which could be considered as a lot of space with how big sukuna is.

you stop right in front of him as he's looming over you— signature scowl on his face. he looks like he's had already enough of you. 

the alcohol has calmed you a tiny bit— but with the amount of anxiety still raging inside of you, you're surprised at yourself for the next thought that crosses your mind.  

“let’s get this over with—”

sukuna is interrupted by your lips crashing into his— your fingers curl in the fabric of his shirt, dragging him down to you. your lips press against his softly at first— clumsy and inexperienced.

he freezes for a split second— his brain processes what's happening. he melts into it as his surprise quickly turns into raw hunger. he cups your face with one hand, the other gripping your waist to pull you flush against him. he kisses you back twice as hard. his hand on your cheek slides to the back of your head, holding onto your hair and keeping you close as he deepens the kiss while angling your head. your hands move to clutch on his shoulders. nails digging into the broad muscle. 

the intensity of the kiss gave you no time to address the dull pain in your back as sukuna shoves you onto the wall, never separating from you in the process. he swallows the silent gasp he pulls out of you with a low groan and his tongue invades your mouth like he owns it. your hands slide to the back of his neck. his tongue glides against yours as you're holding back the sounds that are trying to escape you. he grips your waist tighter. your cheeks turn a deeper red and your heart starts to thud quicker. heat coils in your stomach and a wave of arousal starts to collect between your thighs

the lack of oxygen starts to make you dizzy. you detach yourself from him to breathe in and he immediately chases your lips again. kissing you once again with the same passion and hunger as before. his breath shudders when you lean further into him, eagerly trying to match his rhythm. his hand on your waist moves to the small of your back, pressing you even closer against him— as if he can't stand the thought that there's still space between you. your fingers slide into his hair and when you tug— he lets out a quiet moan into your mouth that makes your breath hitch— the sound sends another wave of hot arousal between your legs. he’s consuming you whole.

your back arches as you tug on his hair once more and he lets out a grunt deep from his throat. his hands start to roam on your body, trying to memorize your body by touch. your mind is growing hazy, every thought is being consumed by sukuna.

his calloused palms move further down to grab your ass, squeezing, kneading the flesh. he pushes you further into the wall— seemingly desperate to be as close as possible to you— you're both panting into each others mouth as you kiss. your jaw slacks and you open your mouth wider for him. the kiss turns messier— teeth grazing— sucking on each others tongue. 

sukuna starts softly bucking into you— grinding against you. you’re fighting against your inner demons to stay quiet while sukuna isn't afraid to let out grunts and groans. your nails rake through his pink hair. 

sukunas one hand hooks your leg around his waist, stroking the flesh while the other stays put on your ass, grinding you against him and making you meet his slow but eager movements. you rock your hips instinctively— hands still in his hair— tugging at his locks once more. 

sukuna pulls back for a second, a string of saliva connecting your mouths together. he doesn’t stray far— just enough to take you in for a moment. he looks at your kiss-bitten lips, eyes moving to the heavy rise and fall of your chest and his head falls into the crook of your neck. he’s panting heavily while he's breathing you in. he lets out a low curse— that you couldn't catch because you're trying to catch your breath while remaining silent— and latches onto your neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses there as well. his grip on you tightens even more as you start rocking against him faster. his breath is hot against your skin. you bite down, clenching your teeth, not letting a single whine or moan slip out while he's sucking on the skin on your neck. his mouth starts to wander— leaving wet kisses on every surface of skin he can get his mouth on. mouthing at your pulse, you feel your composure almost snap so you pull on his hair to move his mouth back against yours. the shift is instant— rougher, hurried, uncoordinated. it’s like he lost control but can't stop. you try to match his movements— but your lack of experience and his loss of restraint makes the kiss sloppy. not that you're complaining. even if you were— the amount of slick that has gathered in your panties would probably beg to differ— 

knock. 

shoko nearly pulls the door off its hinges before gojo can knock a second time.

you immediately detach yourself from sukuna and bolt through the closet door— not sparing another glance to sukuna— and leave the room.  

shoko is close behind you— trying to catch up with a look of panic that almost matches your own.

your heart is racing. 

“what happened in there—”, shoko asks, but your own thoughts are scrambled. 

your throat tightens as you try to breathe in— only managing short gasps. 

you climb up the stairs hurriedly, desperate for a breath of fresh air— desperate to leave this party altogether. 

you claw your way through the crowd— not caring who you shove out the way or who you bump into.

shoko is in tow as you reach the door to freedom. 

meanwhile, you left sukuna frozen in place— with his heart hammering in his chest and a raging problem in his pants. with your scent faint in his nostrils— enough to haunt him but too faint to fill his lungs. with the taste of your lipgloss still on his lips— which he licks off unconsciously and craves to taste more of. 

he's glaring holes into the wall— where you were in his reach seconds ago— aching to breathe you in and taste you once again. his hands are twitching without your soft skin to hold. a shiver runs down his spine— the room cold without your warmth radiating toward him. when all of a sudden, he hears this agitating grating voice— 

“you were pretty vocal in there—”

“shut the fuck up gojo.”

outside, you haven't talked a single word to shoko yet. you're walking arm-in-arm through the streets. shoko understands that you need time to gather your thoughts and find your words.

the fresh air has calmed you down but the image of sukuna fills your vision every time you blink. you still feel his lips against your own and a faint tingling on your neck where he kissed you mere moments ago. you can still hear his groans which will probably haunt you every time there's nothing to fill the silence with— like right now. your body shudders as the cold of the night bites at you— or is it the absence of his warm body against yours, the absence of his hands on your skin that makes you tremble? 

“hey”, shoko snugs closer to you, “you okay?”

she's looking at you as your eyes stay on the path. 

“i’m sorry for saying he wouldn't be there—”

“i kissed him.”

shokos mouth falls open— a scream threatening to escape from her. 

instead, she's silent for a moment before going into a fit of laughter. 

you turn your head to her, one eyebrow raised. the fuck is she laughing for? especially for putting you into that position in the first place!— 

shokos laughter dies as she registers the serious look on your face, “..for real?” 

“for real.”

you both fix your gaze to the path ahead, both trying to make sense of what just happened.

shoko breaks the short silence, “i think i might have alcohol poisoning” 

“you didn't even drink that much—”

“there’s no way in hell YOU kissed SUKUNA!” 

“are you calling me a coward to my face right now—”

“you’ve been avoiding him like the plague!”

“i think i might have alcohol poisoning”, you mumble as you drag your hands down your face— ruining your makeup in the process. 

shoko stops in her tracks all of a sudden, “wait, wait, wait—”, she closes her eyes for a moment, “so you kissed—”

“made out.”

“made out?—”, shoko asks, flabbergasted. 

“made out”, you double down. 

“so you made out with sukuna for seven whole minutes and i did not hallucinate the moaning?”

“y’all heard that?—”

“ANSWER. the question.”

you breathe in. 

shoko looks at you, eyes still wide. 

breathe out. 

“...yeah that's about it—”

“WHAT.”

“i also might have or might have not dry humped him—”

“WHAT.”

₍^. .^₎Ⳋ [ a/n ] hope you liked it !! second chapter will be out in a week hopefully... this is my second work so i hope i didnt disappoint too much (˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ ) dont be shy to comment/reblog it really motivates me to keep writing !! <333

[heartkaji]

“tell me something pretty about yourself.”

toji fushiguro has your body naked in front of the mirror and his warm hands groping your hips. he lets his pinky slide up your puffy, wet slit—just a graze, just over your clit—and he doesn’t let your eyes leave the mirror as he draws back his pinky dripping with your slick.

“go on, princess,” he rasps into your neck. “m’listening.”

but he’s not just listening. your boyfriend is still in his boxers—unfair, really, because you’re clad in nothing & the room is too warm & your thighs are trembling from both the heat and the pressure. he wraps himself around you and slides his hands up to your tits. he gropes your breast once and lets his hands fall away.

your mouth dries. “i can’t.”

but your hips are bucking into him. rolling against his clothed cockhead as your pussy drools from the anticipation. toji laughs, chest warm against your back as he pinches your clit, forcing your hips to stutter & a whine to leave your lips. “y’got a pretty mouth, dollface. wanna hear you use it.”

in the mirror your thighs are still aching, chest heaving, and toji fushiguro has slipped his cock out of his shorts. you’re not sure you heard his waistband snap but his cock is there, flushed and swollen and dripping with precum.

"you see that ?" he murmurs, breath hot against your neck as he pumps himself in his fist all heavy & slow. "see what you do to me, sweetheart? standing there all pretty and wet?”

he lets the soaked head tap against your ass—once, twice—before dragging it lower between your thighs, letting it slip through your slick folds without pushing inside. your pussy flutters at the teasing, & toji watches your chest heave in the mirror through bleary eyes.

"you want this?" he murmurs, cockhead nudging your throbbing folds from behind. "want my cock in this pussy, baby?” he lets his precum smear over the folds. “start talking.”

you swallow, eyes glazed with lust and hips stuttering as you force the courage to speak. “i…i have nice tits.”

“breasts,” toji growls into your neck. “breasts, dollface. say it properly.”

your thighs squeeze. your eyes are teary when you look in the mirror, face flushed, tits heaving. "i have nice breasts."

"mmh," toji slides a palm up your side. he lets his thumb brush against your aching nipple, before twisting and stretching the pebbled peak between his fingers. you arch into him on instinct. "so nice, dollface. and what else? look at this pussy in the mirror, baby. tell me all about it."

his thumb presses into your clit. but then he slides it away.

you moan, loud, slick dripping down your thighs. toji’s cock twitches against your ass, but clearly he’s got the self control of a god.

your lashes are tear rimmed. “i have—i have a pretty pussy!”

“so pretty,” he murmurs, tugging your clit before pressing his thumb against it, rubbing slow circles over the bud. “prettiest pussy i’ve ever fucking seen. so wet and noisy for me. tell me more, sweetheart.”

“my pussy is so tight,” you rasp, breathless and hips twitching as toji rubs his thumb against the sensitive bud. “hnngh—so tight and wet for you, toji.”

"yeah?" he murmurs against your ear. his cock nudges your slick folds, pulsing and throbbing at the entrance. "love this fucking pussy, you know that?"

you can only whimper in response.

"love how puffy it is," he continues, dragging his swollen cockhead up your slit, only to drag it down again. "love how it tries to swallow me. see that, baby? see how it slobbers all over my cock?” he pushes his swollen head in as your cunt flutters around him. “fucking perfect.”

“toji—“ you gasp, “please—“

“please what?” he growls, pushing his hips into you. his thick cock swells between your folds, pulsing and stretching your puffy cunt. “want me to play with this pussy, baby? fuck you so hard your tits bounce in the mirror?”

“mhm—“

“words, sweetheart.”

“want you to fuck me,” you gasp out, hips bucking back to chase his cockhead and push him deeper into your folds. “want you to play with my pussy and fuck me till i’m dripping—“

“fuck,” toji groans, slamming into you, hard. “thaaaat’s my fucking girl. see how easy it is to please me?”

mirror s*x, end.

© HEARTKAJI. do not steal, copy, edit, translate or reupload.

[omitea]

older bf! nanami who loves to pick you up after you’ve finished all of your classes for the day and doesn’t care about the judgmental looks the other students give, considering his age. though, it’s not that big of a difference.

older bf! nanami who has a warm meal waiting for you at his place. and of course he cooked your favorite. he has baked a few things before, but something about seeing you genuinely enjoying a home cooked meal feels more intimate and domestic to him.

older bf! nanami who draws you a warm bath and fills it with one of your bath salts, carefully helping you get in. and who is he to deny you urging him to get in with that sweet smile of yours.

older bf! nanami who makes sure to get rid of all the stubborn knots that’s causing you stress. each one getting replaced by small wet pecks. you feel his stubble gracing your skin and mentally note to take care of it the next morning.

older bf! nanami who has you seated on his lap as he goes over your notes with you, reassuring you every time you let out of huff of frustration. he has already finished his degree a few years prior, so it makes him frown seeing you getting worked up over getting yours. one more year, my love— he reminds you.

older bf! nanami who whispers soft praises against the shell of your ear, grinning proudly when you get an answer correctly. his bigger hand dragging up and down your thigh before squeezing right after you squirm under his touch.

older bf! nanami who decides that it’s finally time for you to take a break, so you do. you follow him as he motions for you to sit at the edge of his bed; a size way too big to be sleeping in all by himself. it definitely makes up for the days you do spend with him.

older bf! nanami who tenderly starts kissing you on your lips before slowly crouching down all the while remaining eye contact. thick fingers toying with your flimsy shorts; grabbed from the mountain of clothes you have stored in his closet, before removing them painfully slow.

older bf! nanami who makes sure to relieve all your stress by making love to you and keeping you close in his arms, his warm huffs fanning against your skin while he keeps reminding you of how smart you are and that there’s nothing to worry about because he will always be there to take care of you.

older bf! nanami who smiles to himself as you lay asleep on his chest, thinking about the small velvet box hidden in the back of his closet. one more year, he reminds himself this time. that’s when he can finally take care of you forever.

©𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐀 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓. 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 & 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 !