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AUTHOR'S PICKS ! 1 ⭑ 2 ⭑ 3

Origami Around
taylor price

tannertan36

Janaina Medeiros
Acquired Stardust
Misplaced Lens Cap
AnasAbdin
art blog(derogatory)

@theartofmadeline
Stranger Things
Sweet Seals For You, Always
NASA
Sade Olutola

No title available
Game of Thrones Daily
Today's Document

★

blake kathryn
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
Not today Justin

seen from Brazil
seen from Germany
seen from United States

seen from United States
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seen from Türkiye
seen from Italy

seen from United States
seen from Brazil

seen from United States

seen from Canada
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seen from Türkiye
seen from Argentina

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@epicderpface
𝓶.list 𝓻eq rules 𝓪rchive of our own 𝓭aily clicks 2 donate & support
support me and buy me a cup of ko-fi ٩(◕‿◕。)۶
AUTHOR'S PICKS ! 1 ⭑ 2 ⭑ 3
apple pie by Lizzy came on shuffle and I thought of way out there :( I miss my people
APPLE PIE AND ME HAVE LORE 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 i miss way out there so bad too and i really do want to properly go back through it and fix the issues that seemed too glaring to me 🥹 im so glad you still think of them (just as i think, quite frequently, of drunk running suguru and reader 🩷)
Haii derp I love the new theme !!
my sweet kenny thank you 😭🌟🩷 it’s my yung lean and thai boy digital obsession it’s 2015 again
The cicadas were deafeningly loud, the buzz seemingly amplified the already sweltering heat. You were sat outside, on the steps of your courtyard. Your bare legs stretched out in the sun, feeling the heat of its rays beat down onto your skin.
“Hey… come into the shade before you get sunburned idiot—“ muttered your husband, who was tending to the plants that lined against the back wall that circled your countryside home. A large tree draped over low, its lush green leaves shook and danced in the cool breeze. You got up and padded towards him, his back bare, tattoos shifting with each movement.
Sukuna unfolded to his full height and turned to you as you met him in the narrow patch of shade he'd carved out around himself. His gaze traveled over you-over the linen set rumpled from you messing around in the sunshine-and something in his expression tightened, not quite anger, not quite worry, but a clear decision.
He peeled his glove off and, without asking, tugged you close by your waistband. Your body bumped into his, the contact sudden enough to make you forget what you'd been about to say.
“It's sweltering hot,” he said, voice low and edged with impatience that was really just concern. “Yet you scramble around in the sun-“ “Well, yeah,” you said softly, your voice turning a little hazy with the truth of it. “It’s nice. I missed the summer heat.”
Sukuna’s eyebrow lifted, slow and unimpressed, like he was weighing you for the millionth time and still finding you strange—in the way he’d never admit out loud. “Always were such an odd woman,” he said, peeling the rest of his glove off. “Liking the heat this much.”
Before you could tease him back, his hands slid around your waist and he pulled you in close—then, with effortless strength, lifted you and carried you to the small bench beneath the shade.
The bench had been his idea from the start, built for you to sit pretty and comfortable, with a stack of books nearby and the garden within reach. He set you down carefully, like he wanted you to feel the thought in every inch of it, and the moment you were settled, he stepped back just enough to look at you properly.
“Stay out of the sun,” he said, firm again, but his tone had shifted—less grumbling, more protective. “If you insist on enjoying the heat, do it here, where I can see you.”
He huffed, the sound more irritated than he intended, and walked back to the pretty flowers he cultivated. Every step of his had that familiar rhythm—like he could be annoyed and still be exactly where he belonged, tending to the life you both kept together out here.
You crossed your legs and leaned back, letting your spine rest against the cool wall. The shade brushed over you in gentle patches, and you fanned yourself with slow, deliberate motions.
His back pocket started to ring—soft at first, then louder as the melody cut through the quiet hum of the garden. He huffed, annoyed that the world had the audacity to interrupt him, and pulled his phone out to check it.
He answered with a gruff mumble, one hand turning the screen a little while his other stayed at his side like he didn’t want to stop working. Then his jaw tightened. When he hung up, he stood back up—still in the shade, but suddenly all business again.
Your eyes tracked him without meaning to, watching the way his expression shifted as he stepped away. He grumbled something incoherent under his breath and stomped off into your home.
A moment later, he returned through the doorway and stopped in front of you. The heat was still there, but his presence made the shade feel smaller—closer—like he didn’t want anything to slip too far from his reach.
“That was Toji,” he said, voice rough. “The idiot needs me at the shop.” His gaze flicked over the flowers, the tools, then back to you—like he was already deciding what you’d need and what you’d pretend you didn’t. “Think you can handle finishing the gardening?”
You nodded, rising quickly to your feet “Of course!” you said, bright and eager. “How long will you be gone?”
“An hour at the most,” he replied, already moving on from the conversation like he didn’t like lingering in softness.
Before he stepped away, he tugged the green work apron off himself—work-worn and smelling faintly like garden soil—and placed it on you. The weight of it settled over your shoulders with a satisfying kind of warmth.
You smiled gleefully. “Thank you,” you said, and then—because you couldn’t help it—you waved as he headed back into the house.
When the door closed, the yard went quieter again. The breeze picked up through the low leaves, and the sunlight glittered just beyond the edge of the shade.
You turned to the rows of beautiful flowers and herbs—neat lines that only existed because you’d begged him to plant them the first time you learned to cook. You rolled up your sleeves, settled your focus, and got to work.
A few hours passed without him, the muggy air slowly cooling as the sun dipped low. Out beyond the garden, crickets started up their steady song, and the air grew gentle—less heavy, more kind.
You were halfway through digging, sleeves rolled and focus narrowed, when you decided the gloves were unnecessary and itchy. You peeled them off and went back to the soil with bare hands, letting the texture ground you. Somewhere in your throat, a soft tune kept humming—quiet, content, like you could make the whole day behave if you worked hard enough.
You grabbed a pair of scissors and started trimming and tugging at stubborn weeds. The task was meditative until—
A sharp sting laced through your palm.
You froze, the humming abruptly stumbling, and stared down like you couldn’t quite believe what you’d done. Blood welled up quickly, warm against your skin, pooling where it shouldn’t be. A breath caught in your chest. Tears stung at your eyes before you could swallow them back.
“Of course,” you whispered, voice trembling with frustration and hurt. “I’m such a—” You couldn’t finish the sentence. Your gaze flicked between the red in your hand and the innocent rows of flowers as if the garden had betrayed you. You sat back on your heels, clutching your palm with your other hand and blinking hard, trying to stop the tears from spilling while the sting throbbed in slow waves.
You rocked back and forth, trying to press the panic down with the steady rocking motion of your body. The tears finally slipped passed your lashes—hot and helpless. You sniffled into your sleeve, staring at your bloodied palm like it was the only thing that made sense in that moment.
The courtyard was silent except for the crickets… until the sound of the door opened.
Footsteps hit the ground with a heavy, familiar rhythm—large, unhurried only when he chose to be. Now they were all impatience. The door shut behind him with a sharp finality, and his voice carried straight into the air, grumbling angry complaints.
“That idiot Toji called me over—” you heard him snap, the words rumbling with irritation. “After nearly blowing up a client’s car at the shop—”
His pace slowed somewhere near you and the garden.
The moment you looked up, you could tell he’d come home ready to fight the whole world—until his gaze landed on you, on the tears, on your hand. His grumble died mid-sentence.
His frown shifted—fast. The anger fell away like it had never been there, replaced by worry sharp enough to cut through the crickets calming hum. His whole body tensed when he saw you sitting there, teary and unevenly breathing, and the sound of his anger finally broke into something else.
He rushed in, helping you up with more force than he probably meant to. His hands came to your shoulders, firm and urgent. For a second it felt like he could hold you together just by gripping you.
“Hey—“
“What happened?” he demanded, voice tight. “Let me see—”
He tugged gently at first, then more roughly—panic making him impatient with the world—and guided you closer so he could inspect your palm.
His gaze dropped to the cut and darkened with concern, his jaw going rigid as he took in the blood. He didn’t look away. He didn’t scold you, not yet.
“Hey,” he said again, softer this time—quieter than the crickets, gentler than his earlier anger. One hand stayed steady at your shoulder while the other hovered in the air, uncertain, as if he was afraid a single wrong movement would make it hurt more.
He looked into your eyes, really looked—until you couldn’t look away either. His bloody-red irises caught the failing light, mirroring the dried patches of blood on your serrated palm. His expression tightened with worry,“Okay,” he murmured, voice rough. “Okay. I’m going to fix this.”
Slowly, carefully, he guided your hand toward him, bracing it so you wouldn’t have to hold it up alone. “Does it throb?” he asked, eyes flicking down to the cut. “Is it just bleeding, or does it feel deep?”
“It’s throbbing—” you said, between soft sniffles, trying to breathe through the sting. “And it’s bleeding a lot…”
He exhaled hard, like that admission finally turned his worry into action. His expression tightened again—this time with determination.
“C’mon,” he said, voice low and gruff.
He guided you inside and sat you down on the dining table with a careful firmness that didn’t give you room to argue. The house smelled faintly of evening cooking and old wood, and the kitchen light made everything look too bright for how close to tears you still were.
Then he moved, quick and steady, towards the kitchen, and grabbed the first-aid kit. Your eyes followed his broad back as he walked away, your chest still fluttering with fear and embarrassment and pain all tangled together. He wore a simple black t-shirt, shoulders tense, the shape of him steady even when his worry clearly wasn’t.
“Stay there,” he called without turning back. “Don’t move that hand—“
You waited, forcing yourself to stay still as the house settled around you. The dining table was cool beneath you, grounding in a way that felt almost unfair while your palm throbbed.
When he came back, his voice dropped to a whisper.
“Open.”
You slowly unfolded your bloodied palm, wincing as the sting flared up along your hand and into your forearm. He didn’t react like it was gross or inconvenient—he reacted like it mattered, because you did, and seeing you hurt in anyway made his heart ache. He would never tell you that of course, but you could tell by his actions.
He grabbed a wet paper towel and started to clean the blood away with careful, gentle pressure, like he was trying to take the pain away piece by piece without making it worse.
“How’d this happen?” he asked, pink locks a messy curtain around his face. His eyes stayed locked on your palm, steady and intent, but his voice carried that edge of alarm.
He paused just long enough to wipe away a final smear, then looked up at you for half a second. “Don’t stay quiet now—“ your cheeks were burning with utter embarrassment, “can’t leave you alone for a few hours can I?” He said with a sigh as he applied cool ointment to your skin and started wrapping it.
His hands were big. Calloused in all the ways that came from real work—and yet the moment they touched you, everything about him changed. He was gentle. Careful. Patient.
He adjusted the wrap with precision, as if your pain were delicate, as if you were made of something worth protecting.
And it did something to you—something inconvenient and sweet. Your heart throbbed and jumped at every small motion, the way he steadied your wrist, the way he pressed just enough to keep the bandage in place, the way his attention never wavered from what mattered.
You couldn’t help it. You felt it, deep and undeniable.
Something as simple as his touch made you fall a fraction deeper in love with your husband.
He finished up with the last careful adjustment, then pulled back just enough to look at you fully—like he needed to confirm you were okay. “You aren’t going near anything sharp,” he said, voice firm, eyes staring deep into yours. “Got that?”
You nodded quickly, too quick, like speed could make him less worried. The bandage sat against your palm, warm where his hands had just been.
He huffed, turning his head as if to go back to being annoyed—until, You grabbed him by his collar and tugged him in.
A quick kiss. Right there, in the kitchen light, soft but decisive, stealing the words out of his mouth. When you pulled back, his expression had gone a little stunned, ears warming, the worry in his face flaring into something gentler.
“—Hey,” he muttered, like he was trying to remember how to talk while your mouth was still lingering near his.
You giggled softly, cheeks warm as embarrassment collided with affection. “Thank you,” you whispered, and pressed your lips to his again, quick at first, then firmer when you felt how tense he was trying not to show how affected he was.
His arms tightened around your waist. Not gently, protective, yes, but with an edge to it. Like he needed you close because you made him weak and he hated that you knew it.
“Mmph—mm,” he grunted against your mouth, the noise sounded annoyed yet pleased at the same time.
“Don’t get cute,” he muttered, pulling back just enough to look at you, eyes dark with that deep devotion. “You cut yourself. You stay away from the garden and my garden scissors, or your doing my chores plus yours and you’ll thank me whether you want to or not.”
Then, like he couldn’t help himself, he kissed you again—longer this time. His hands braced you as if you were something he could lose at any moment. You pulled away, quietly admiring his face,
“Yeah,” he said, voice low and mean in the way that was really just love wrapped in fanged teeth. “Yeah… that’s right. Keep quiet and kiss me.”
“I love you-“ you whispered, a small smile plastered on your face.
“…I love you too-“ he muttered back, voice laced with utter devotion.
A/N: have this quick write while I try to get the next chapter for my nightwing fic down, which btw it still needs a name… and I lowkirkgenuinely suck at writing for Sukuna but fuck it we ball- also thank you so so much @epicderpface for the idea!! Ur literally a life saver 🛟
Tags 🏷️: @raven66551 @lilithkleia
꒰impatient꒱ husband!nanami almost missed his son's birth ꩜ angst to fluff; comfort. art by @/mamitasoa7x0312
Nanami's heart beat louder than it ever had as he drove to you.
Ignoring every traffic light and speed limit. This wasn't like him, but he could feel bad about it later. Right now, there was only thing he had to do – get to you.
As fast as he fucking could.
Were you scared? Were you in pain?
Of course you were in pain.
And he wasn't there.
His foot slammed the accelerator again, the hospital building finally coming into view up ahead.
It wasn't meant to happen this early, he was caught off guard at work – but as soon as your anxious voice reached him from the phone and tried to explain that your water had broke, he left the office without a word. Later he'd notice the missed calls from his boss, but again – he didn't care.
Everything was out the window the minute you needed him.
You were in pain. You were having his baby.
What was supposed to be a joyous moment shared by the two of you, now meant nothing but fear from both sides.
Another traffic light ignored, but it was finally the last one.
The nurse must have thought he was losing his mind when he reached the front desk, giving her your name through ragged breaths. "Mr. Nanami?" she tried to confirm, and he only managed an exhausted nod.
His hair was a mess, tie undone, and a bead of sweat trickled down his temple. But when the nurse finally showed him the way, Nanami followed close, almost overtaking her as if this was a race.
And finally, the sterile hospital corridor led to a door, and the door led to you.
Looking as sweaty as he was, holding your swollen belly with two hands, face twisting in pain.
But when you saw him, something visibly changed – your breathing hitched, your shoulders dropped, and the pain gave way to a smile. One the two of you desperately needed.
"Ken?" you whispered, tears already slipping through your beautiful cheeks.
"I'm here" he rushed to your side, sitting next to your bed and placing both hands on top of yours. On your stomach, near your son. "I am so sorry, my love" he took one to kiss your knuckles, the other gently rubbing your skin, small circles he hoped might settle the two of you.
"I'm so happy you're here" you cried, interlocking your fingers with his, the golden wedding band glistening in the cold overhead light.
"What did the doctors say? Do you need anything? Water? How bad is the pain? Is he ok?" Nanami wasn't even sure what he was saying, just going through the practicals first. As if you knew it was the only way to help him relax, you let out a soft giggle.
"Everything is fine" you reassured, looking down at your stomach and the person you had been waiting months to meet.
Nanami followed your gaze, taking his eyes from you for the first time. He brought his body forwards a little, leaning over to press a kiss just above your belly button. "Already impatient, just like your mother" he shook his head, finally allowing himself to relax.
"I'm not sure about that" you smiled. "Looks like he was ready and didn't want to do overtime, like someone I know"
Nanami looked up at you then, letting out a small chuckle himself. He pushed up, cupping your cheek gently. "He's perfect" he said, with a kiss to your forehead. "So I'm sure he takes after you"
In your husband's embrace, you finally began to breathe a little easier. The pain was coming and going, getting more intense with every contraction, but Nanami was right there holding your hand, rubbing your back, instructing you through breathing exercises.
His brows furrowed when you groaned, wishing he could take all the pain from you and give to himself. But he didn't let you see him so worried – Nanami was completely focused on you.
"You're doing so well" he kissed your shoulder when it hurt too much. "I love you" he whispered, as you almost broke his hand with how hard you squeezed it.
Nanami didn't care about anything else in the world right now, just his two favourite people. The one in his arms, and the one he was about to meet.
Ryomen Sukuna
(X) = Smut
. * ⋆ . · . ♡˚࿔ 𝒎𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒍𝒚 𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔! 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ✎ : · 𝐦𝐚𝐲. 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟔
ᯓ★ This month's recommendations! I'd really love if other people could join me in this too and use the monthly mentions tag! whatever your fandoms or tastes are, boosting writers is really important. ᯓ★ Please check out these recommendations, maybe peek at some blogs and follow some new writers today!
✧ 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍 𝐈𝐌𝐏𝐀𝐂𝐓
18+ husband! pantalone — ewnamored / @amourbid
he doesn't say 'i love you' but... feat. zhongli, kazuha, diluc, alhaitham, xiao, thoma, scaramouche, neuvillette, cyno — @xiaolovesu
18+ lohen's kinks — @limeiryll / @flowercanopy
diluc being affectionate with you — @ayioumz
old! zandik x reader — @minjitorre
18+ how dottore's different segments treat you — @auratux
✧ 𝐉𝐔𝐉𝐔𝐓𝐒𝐔 𝐊𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐍
18+ your husband toru tries to knock you up! — @mimimochis
18+ nurse! reader x underground fighter! gojo — @tonycries
18+ bf! gojo can't be serious in cowgirl position — @mimimochis
18+ nanami uses your panties to jerk off — mimuju
18+ gojo doesn't need a condom — @epicderpface
18+ puppyboys or catboys? feat. shoko, higuruma, gojo, ino, sukuna, choso, geto, nanami, toji — @tonycries
18+ mean! nerdjo punishes his mean! girlfriend — @mimimochis
husband! gojo and your baby — @dewveils
18+ nerdjo solves equations on your back — @seishmi
18+ satoru jerks off thinking ab roommate! reader — @utterlyobsessedprincess
18+ husband! toru has a lactation kink — @chosayi
18+ celebrity! satoru x manager! reader — @satolune
18+ ex-bestie! shoko x reader x ex! gojo — @sweethearticism
18+ tiger hybrid! sukuna x reader — @sweethearticism
18+ nerdjo gets distracted by his high-maintenance gf — @heartkaji
✧ 𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐊𝐀𝐈 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐋
18+ visiting the baths with phainon, mydei, anaxa, dan heng, caelus — @yestrday
yandere! hsr men feat. phainon, jing yuan, sunday — @belovedren
18+ kitsune! jiaoqiu x reader — @manicsho
18+ breeding with phainon — @neossence
18+ pervy! phainon headcanons — @angelickitties
18+ non human! characters x reader feat. mydei, sunday, dan heng, moze, boothill, aventurine, phainon, anaxa, robin — @alcannetta
ᯓ★ please reblog the original posts to support these writers!
No one understands how bad i need more best friend satoru fics omg
I currently have no ideas for bsf!Gojo fics, but! I do have some recommendations 😋
Truth or dare with best friend!Gojo by @realcube - smut
Making a bet with bsf!Gojo by @sluturu - smut
Jealousy, jealousy by @indiewritesxoxo - angst
Using a silicone copy of his dick by @satoruined - smut Jackie has a whole collection of bsf!Gojo fics, so check that out as well!
Jealous bsf!Gojo by @gojodickbig - smut
Jealousy, jealousy by @feyrinnn - smut, angst
Unrequited by @/feyrinnn - angst
Rent-a-Boyfriend by @madamechrissy - fluff with a bit of smut
Birds of a feather by @lokissweater - fluff, angst & smut
Bestfriend nerd!jo is a pretty boy by @epicderpface - smut
Three times bsf!satoru fails to confess to you on valentines day by @xqce - fluff
Bsf!Gojo gets hard while sparring with you by @/xqce - smut
When bsf!Satoru lends a helping hand by @yailuxe - smut
Wish you may, wish you might by @nizhspo - angst (technically not a bsf!gojo one, but I still wanted to include it)
Shameless self plug:
Moon and earth , pt. 2 - hurt no comfort
Pick me first - hurt no comfort
Deathmatch - fluff, angst, gore, hurt no comfort
Beneath the Shadows - angst, fluff, smut (not sure if this one counts, but this is my baby so I will include it)
♩ིྀ ࿐ SNAPCHAT ME THAT PUSSY! texting the jjk men that you want to snapchat & ft that pussy ── ﹙ 18+ ﹚
🪽 ໒꒱ featuring ── gojo satoru ⸝⸝ geto suguru ⸝⸝ nanami kento ⸝⸝ toji fushiguro ⸝⸝ ryomen sukuna ⸝⸝ choso kamo ⸝⸝ hiromi higuruma ⸝⸝ shiu kong
✉️ྀི . . . please click on the images to read it properly + if anything is difficult to read, please let me know so i can fix it for the next time! been a while since i made smaus so >< i missed it & making it aesthetic & any ideas, pls send in inbox ♡
© DEARTOKKI
no. one party anthem
track twenty-four: i want you | prev track< | setlist
three rockstars! one you!
synopsis: your best friend has always been an asshole - whether it's in his band or in his bed. him ditching you? nothing new. but when one bedroom door closes, another one opens
pairings: rockstar!Suguru Geto x f!Reader x childhood fwb!Sukuna (+ rockstar!gojo!!)
content: mdni, angst and fluff, rockstar au!, complicated relationships and messy emotions, avoidant attachment, HEAVY PINING AND YEARNING, denying feelings, reader is a mess, sukuna is desperately trying to win her back lmfao, protective men, emotional hurt, not much comfort to be found in this one, therapy
a/n: art by @winterrbluess !! div by @/anitalenia
"It's always good to see you, Sukuna."
Yeah, you were pretty sure his therapist was the first person to ever say that to him.
But you kept your mouth shut, sitting on the opposite end of the couch, one leg folded on top of the other as your stare shifted from your best friend to the man he'd brought you to see.
"How's Muffin doing?" He followed it up, leaning forward with a notepad in his lap, as if he wasn't being paid to inquire about his life.
"She's fine," Sukuna gruffly responded, pulling out his phone - and opening up his photos, proudly pulling up a photo of a fluffy gray cat mid-yawn.
Sukuna. The cat dad.
It didn't make any sense.
Nothing did.
"What are you going to do with Muffin when you're on tour?" You spoke up, fiddling with your painted nails as you looked down at your lap.
It came out kind of snappy. More than you meant it to.
"I'm not going on tour."
Your head snapped up. The shield you shined just for today cracking not even two minutes in as your throat threatened to shut.
"You're going on tour," you said, clinging to it like an idiot. Because deep down, despite how much he was trying to change, it was hard not to see Sukuna as a rockstar first. Everything else second.
He went on tour after every album.
Once this one was out, he'd be gone again.
"I'm telling the label no next week," he shrugged. "I don't give a shit if they don't sign us again."
Us.
Of course he was only acknowledging the band as more than just him when he was being what? Stupidly stubborn? Selfish?
“Why the fuck would you do that?” You blanched.
“I’m not leaving you,” the stubborn asshole insisted.
No.
This wasn’t what you wanted at all. It never was.
You felt like you were going to puke, a lump forming in your throat as you blinked at him in disbelief.
"Do not put this on me," you shook your head, ignoring the way his therapist tried to speak up, to prevent your bickering before it really got started. “What about Choso? Yuki and Uruame? They’ll be-”
“You can’t seriously think I care more about them than I do about you,” Sukuna scoffed, his jaw set in a tight line as his dark stare seared into your side.
“Like you were even willing to admit you cared about me at all six months ago,” you muttered under your breath, that bitter pill still lodged in your airway no matter how many times you tried to swallow it.
“Okay, I think we should take a step back here,” the therapist managed to interrupt, loudly clearing his throat as you turned your attention out the window. Rain was falling, droplets racing down the pane as you picked at a stray thread of the couch someone else’s anxious hands had already worked undone.
You knew you should be trying harder for this.
That therapy only worked if you were willing to try.
for your entertainment ch1: untouched
౨ৎ experienced!sukuna x virgin f!reader [adult boutique au] - ongoing series
❝ chasing your dreams isn't all it's cracked up to be. your apartment shakes when the train passes and eating a scoop of peanut butter and calling it girl dinner is getting depressing. when you finally manage to land a job at a store that sells sex toys, it's possibly the biggest relief of your life. there's just one issue: you're a virgin. you don't know the first thing about toys and you don't want your cute and flirty white-haired co-worker to know. against your better judgement, you find yourself turning to your other co-worker for lessons and learn the hard way he's just as much of an asshole in bed as he is at work. ❞
౨ৎ cw ; mdni, 18+ only. fwb but you aren't friends. slow burn romance/fast burn smut. sukuna is 23ish, reader is 24/25ish. reader is sexually reserved but confident, nerdy, and a band geek. arrogant!sukuna. mild love triangle with gojo. dom!sukuna. mild corruption. size difference. sex toys & explorations of safety in kinks. smut & piv. virginity loss. see masterlist for full cw.
౨ৎ wc ; 9.4k.
౨ৎ art ; ackshuallyvalerie
main masterlist || series masterlist || next ⪢
There comes a point where you have to wonder if you just aren’t meant to be applying for jobs. The amount of rejection emails and calls you’ve gotten is staggering, and that doesn’t even begin to touch on the amount of applications that simply haven’t gotten a reply.
‘We regret to inform you’ feels like a personal attack at this point.
Sitting outside this particular store, however, has you questioning if maybe you just aren’t cut out for work at all.
:: 𓍯𓂃 tidbits and imagery for summer scenery prompts ೫˚◛ᵕ̈ edit according to your taste. please credit @virtualangel-05 !
wine-stained tablecloths
sticky grapefruit essence between fingers
sweat-slick calves
hot wind flittering strands of hair
barefoot on ballast sand roads
dew draped over tallgrass in the early morning
sweetness of the air after a night rainshower
brainfreeze from a cherry slushy
cicada’s chirping after nightfall
sun-dazed and drowsy after a late lunch
shielding your eyes from the unrelenting sun with your palm
rolling, gentle currents of a narrow stream lapping against stone
midsummer festival adrenaline
damp and salty hair after swimming
sunscreen prickling the inside of your nostrils
nude skin tingling from harsh sunlight
flipflop and shade lines
ripe blossoms
white and shasta daisies endlessly covering fields
body swaying along with the kind wind
blasting ac against clammy hands
:: 𓍯𓂃 grumpy x sunshine prompts ೫˚◛ᵕ̈ edit according to your muse. please credit @virtualangel-05 !
total resting bitch face x smiley & grinning ear to ear
tugging on your hair, tripping you, and name-calling in front of your friends but switching up in private
grumpy watching sunshine’s smile in a room full of people like a slow-mo film reel
compliments thinly veiled as insults
easy back and forth banter like second nature & hitting it off from the first interaction
grumpy blowing up sunshine’s phone after they dump them, asking for their shit back, but it’s just an excuse to see sunshine again
grumpy being insanely competitive to an annoying and slightly dangerous degree
knows when sunshine is upset but doesn’t use words to placate them; rather actions i.e. small gifts, lingering touches, concerned gazes
grumpy losing their mind when sunshine gives them the silent treatment and using baseless threats to get them to talk again
grumpy curses a lot even when being affectionate — “just shut the fuck up and let me do this for you, yeah?”
sunshine’s love language being words of affirmation that make grumpy flush and grumble
sunshine kisses in unusual places like the column of the throat, behind the ear, inner wrist
grumpy will take the bed even when sunshine needs it more but moves sunshine to the bed after they’ve fallen asleep
grumpy feels lost when sunshine’s brightness has dulled, working to mend the broken parts to see that glow again
grumpy = low maintenance ; sunshine = high maintenance
sunshine drags grumpy to places, but knows it’s all an act and they want to be there just as much as them
grumpy taking note of all the things sunshine loves in secret
all of their friends wondering how the two of them get along with the sweet personality and brash persona
sunshine catching grumpy smiling at their lame jokes and blushing
grumpy flustering sunshine on purpose to show who’s really got the other wrapped around their finger, but ultimately loses when sunshine one-up’s them
made a blog for selfshipping and fanfic/muse prompts :) if anyone is interested, you can follow it @virtualangel-05 !
what you know - post-series oneshot the six-year old comedian
❦ ryomen sukuna x f!reader [college au] [completed series]
❝ a collection of what you would consider the funniest moments interacting with your boyfriend's youngest brother. from ducks to mosquitos and mall fountains to strange sculptures, you treasure the moments that make you laugh. ❞
❦ cw ; mdni. takes place after the events of what you know. crack. family fluff. established relationship. mentions of vomit.
❦ words ; 6.4k.
main masterlist || series masterlist
The world is easier these days with you by Sukuna’s side. His patience has been drawn out and his frustrations quell more soundly. Choso is more open, and Yuji– well, truthfully not much has changed, but Sukuna has grown to appreciate the kid’s ability to be accidentally hilarious. He still doesn’t like being the subject of the joke, which he so often is, but now that he operates on much higher averages of sleep, he’s come to appreciate his little brother’s rambunctiousness far more.
There are days where he probably shouldn’t laugh, but someday he’s sure Yuji will look back on it and laugh too.
husband!Sukuna x reader
Insecurity strikes after becoming a new mom when your normally horny as fuck husband hasn't tried to lay a finger on you since having a baby.
WC: 1.6k. TW: pregnancy and babies, suggestive at the end
“Okay, she’s down,” your husband sighs, shutting your bedroom door behind him. He briefly glances your way as he tugs his faded t-shirt off and tosses it on the floor.
꒰BEG FOR YOU꒱ ꩜ collection
꒰ex!gojo x f!reader x new bf!sukuna꒱ a collection of oneshots that can also be read as a continuous story, following each pov ꩜ cw angst, post-break up, hurt no comfort, exes to lovers to exes again, moving on, smut (reader's & sukuna's version), reunion, arguments, each fic has their own warnings
꩜ reader's version if i didn't love you ꩜ satoru's version baby, come back to me ꩜ sukuna's version my love mine oh mine
art creds: sukuna @/r5x9513ros gojo @/tiyu0710 dividers by @pixopix