Lai

20 | music lover

[sixeyesonathiel]

the way i am sitting here, literally at my little keyboard, fighting for my life because the temptation to name my dark satoru fic something eden-coded is devouring me whole. like be so serious—my irl name is eden. EDEN. and i just wrote thousands words about a man who loves like god, ruins like god, and decides to turn his entire concept of salvation into a single person.

i am not normal about this. i am the paradise he refuses to leave. i am the orchard he has to devour to feel alive. i am the garden he will salt from the inside out just to say he owned something pure.

it’s so disgusting and romantic and sick and i’m blushing about it because what do you mean i’m about to publish a fic where my own name is synonymous with being loved to death. literally. devoured biblically. sanctified in his ruin. and it’s still love.

[yenayaps]

Not Just Anybody | baby daddy!sukuna x f!reader

summary: on the rare occasion that sukuna takes his nephew out to the park, he notices another kid with blush pink hair— a baby to be exact. he tries not to stare too much, but it’s hard not to, it’s a rare hair color. it’s not until the baby’s mother takes her out of the swing set and back into her stroller when he realizes why you ghosted him almost 2 years ago.

genre/warnings: hidden child trope, ex-fwb to co-parents to lovers, horrible communication, angst, fluff, smut

notes: I'm posting this to get it out of the way now, but I'll do the tags a little later. Anyways, you've seen the sneak peeks, enjoy! 8.5k w/c

m.list | part nine | part ten | part eleven

He’s been on the phone for hours, with multiple people— his manager, his coach, the team’s PR manager. Even the owner of the team, who was profusely apologizing to Sukuna despite having no fault in it whatsoever. He just didn’t want to accidentally piss off the star player even more. 

And pissed is an understatement, he is livid. 

You thought you’d seen it all with Sukuna, at least in terms of his temper, but it reached heights unheard of today. He’s been outside on the balcony this entire time yet the bass of his voice managed to reach yours and Yomi’s ears through the heavy door that separates you from him. You heard all the threats and degrading names that’ve been flying out of his mouth ever since he saw his daughter's entire face plastered on some exposé titled “Sukuna’s Secret Life”. 

It was concerning at first, knowing how sensitive Yomi could be and the fact that she’s never actually seen her dad angry. You were so sure she’d get scared, but aside from the short breaks she takes from playing to side-eye him, she only really cares about the toys laid out in front of her.

Which is somewhat funny, but also a little alarming. 

For as much as he coddles her dramatic little self, you’d think she’d return the favor by showing some concern over him yelling over the phone for hours, but she doesn’t. It’s almost as if his behavior and sudden outbursts were an inconvenience for her from the way she just stops playing. Yeah— he was loud, but not enough for it to serve as an interruption for whatever she was making her labubu’s talk about. 

You’re not sure whether you want to laugh or scoff at the way she refuses to acknowledge him, despite clearly being aware of his mood. It’s moments like this that make you wonder if there was a line that needed to be drawn, and if she was even old enough for that. 

Children are naturally selfish— especially Sayomi, who probably won’t ever have to beg for your attention or Sukuna's, let alone wonder if you love her. 

Being selfish is good, you both agreed on that. You want her to unapologetically be herself. For her to go through life with her head held up high, making decisions with her happiness in mind and not just because someone pushed her to. 

Of course you also want her to think of others, to be a kind and uplifting person, but only when she knows they won’t try to pull her down in the process. 

Discernment. You can go so far with just that skill alone. But from the looks of it, you’ll most likely have to focus on the ‘thinking about others’ part first if she doesn’t grow out of this little phase that’s filled with a hurtful amount of sass and glares. 

Then again, she’s an only child. There isn’t anyone around that’ll teach her what sharing is or how to be a team player in general. You thought Yuji would help out with that, but he’s too fucking nice. On top of knowing he has to be extra gentle and patient with her, he’s just nicer to girls in general, thanks to Yuki and Choso. He already shows up with the full intent of sharing his toys. 

Sayomi couldn’t even yank something out of his hand if she tried, he’s already handing her whatever’s in his hand before she gets the chance to think about it. She’s tried to yank things out of your hands before, but quickly learned to stop after getting called out by her father. It’s not the same though. She’s not learning to be nice to other people, she’s learning to be nice to her mother who she knows wouldn’t leave her. She just stopped because she doesn’t like getting scolded by her dad. 

And then there’s Sukuna. The worst she’s done is smack him and all he did was make fun of her for acting like a little psycho— didn’t last long either. He ended up having to console her after laughing a little too hard at one of his own jokes.

There was the option to put her in a daycare, which he immediately shut down. Word for word, he said, “I’m not sending my little girl somewhere that’s infested with a bunch of snot-nosed brats.” 

As if that wouldn’t happen in regular school, but you let it go. You pick and choose your battles wisely with him when it comes to parenting her, and figured getting an early start to the whole socialization thing wasn’t that big of a deal in the grand scheme of things, especially with all the quality time she gets with her family in general. 

Though there was another option that sat in the back of your mind.

Giving Sayomi a sibling. 

The thought’s been there, it didn’t help that you had your own reasons for wanting another one either. Not right this second or even this year, but one day. 

Picturing Sukuna taking care of a little newborn was something you’ve been indulging in more than you’d like to admit. It was more on the delusional side too, but you couldn’t help it— not after seeing the way he dotes on the child you two already share together. He cherishes her in a way every child deserves to be cherished. It’s sincere. Unconditional. The kind of love everyone deserved to experience. 

It put you in a strange spot where wanting one was bad given your situation, but it also wasn't a crime.

You always thought that if the desire ever came, it’d be from missing the crawling stage or just wanting a bigger family in general. Yet here you were, wanting one more baby from Sukuna so you could simply watch them grow up with the same tenderness Sayomi’s being raised with. 

He makes it look so easy. You wonder if he’s ever realized that— how much better off the world would be if everyone received the same amount of care and patience he gave to Sayomi. 

But you also wonder if there's enough room in his heart for another one. If he even wanted to make more room, or if he was content with just one.

It felt selfish after swearing up and down at one point that he wasn’t cut out to be a dad. Not to mention you two still have your own issues to work through and aren't even together yet. 

So you hold back and keep your little thoughts of having a mini Yomi to yourself, especially now. Given how much of a nightmare this exposé has been, you doubt he’d even want another kid at this point. 

You were angry about it too, but you also leaned more towards feeling spooked. You barely left your neighbourhood to begin with, seeing that many photos of the three of you, or even just you and Yomi, was unnerving. At the shopping mall, the farmers market, gas station, getting fucking ice cream. Not to mention all the photos they’ve found of you and the baby online, whoever did it must’ve sent a friend request to a distant family member that had no concept of internet safety. 

To think that you would’ve never guessed it either made it worse. 

Sayomi’s really the only reason why you haven’t had another panic attack. She’s surprisingly really good at distracting you, especially since she’s started making her toys talk to each other. Deciphering what she’s making them talk about was impossible though. All you know is whether they're arguing or not, but there wasn't much of a pattern to that. You thought she’d make her labubu’s argue today from watching her dad arguing on the phone, but you were proud to say they’ve been nice to each other all afternoon. 

Outside, you hear Sukuna yell out one last and final “FUCK”, before opening the door and stepping back inside the living room. He’s mumbling something about someone being a useless piece of shit, all while looking like shit himself. Hair all over the place from running his hands through it, pupils blown out, and dark circles you only noticed when your eyes finally met his. 

He was supposed to spend the weekend resting, not raging out over his daughter’s privacy. 

“Dada,” your daughter breaks the silence, twisting her head back to look at him as if she’d be waiting for him to get off the phone. 

“Hm?” he all but raises his brows, silently praying to fucking god that she doesn’t—

“Abubu1 play?” she asks, raising one in her hand. 

1Labubu

He’s never been a fan or seen the appeal. In fact, he hates her whole entire fucking collection of them. They remind him of those furbies Jin used to collect, except these ones looked like they got crafted into voodoo dolls by Satan himself. 

He just stares at first with a dumbfounded look on his face. He spent the first half of the day fighting for her privacy, and now she wants him to play with one of the stuffed demon bears you can’t seem to stop bringing home. 

“No thanks,” he curtly declines.

“Mama.”

Is she trying to fucking snitch on him? 

You try your best to keep your composure. Now’s not the time to laugh over how offended they both look. You lightly clear your throat, and that annoyed him enough to let out a disgusted scoff in return, which made it even harder for you to act like an adult. 

“What’s wrong, babe?” you finally ask her. 

“Dada play,” she murmurs, hoping you’d do something about his refusal to play “dolls” with her. Honestly, if they were normal barbie dolls, he’d probably plop down beside her right now and happily pretend that his doll was her doll’s severely underpaid and abused servant. But he won’t because you refuse to get her normal shit. 

“But Dada said no,” you politely break the news to her. 

“Dada bad.”

He’s rolling his eyes now and you can’t help but feel bad for him. He probably just wants to lay down right now, but he has to listen to his daughter call him an asshole. 

“Dada’s not bad, he’s just tired,” you try to explain to her. 

“Mad?” she asks, finally acknowledging this morning and afternoon's temper.

“Mhm,” you nod, “his heart hurts right now, you should give him a hug.” He scoffs again.

“A booboo?” 

“Exactly— go give him a hug.” 

That’s all she needed to get her butt up and make her way over to him, holding her arms out wide to give him a hug. She bursts out squealing and laughing though when he picks her up instead and walks over to the couch to sit. It obviously wasn’t going to take away his exhaustion, but it did make him feel a little better. 

“Booboo?” she points at his chest.

“Close,” he hums and taps on his temple, “gotta headache.” 

“Aww,” she responds, you two aren’t sure if she actually means it since she smiled. But you guess she actually did when she handed him her beloved labubu that he was not aware was in her hand this whole entire time. 

He thanked her, remembering his manners and all, but still waited until you both were looking away to toss it behind the couch. She’s got enough of those demon dolls to not notice if one was missing. 

“Soooo,” you hum, picking some toys off the ground, “I’m guessing there’s still not much on who took all those pictures?”

“Nope,” he murmurs in defeat. “They were sent in anonymously too.”

“What about the exposé and pictures?” 

They were a completely different story. The publishing company would much rather pay him than take it down from how much revenue they’re making from all the website visits they've gotten. And who knows how many people have saved the piece and the photos at this point, it’s not like he could go after all the people that’ve saved and reposted the photos. 

“...so that's it?” you flatly ask. “The whole world just thinks you're some asshole that’s embarrassed of your kid?” 

Yes. Not that he cared. The only opinions that really mattered were yours and Sayomi’s when it came to his role as a father. The only one who really cares about the false narrative is you, which he appreciates. You wanted everyone to see how good he was to her, you wanted them to see how big of a smile he’s able to leave on her face. He gets it, he’d feel the same if the roles were reversed, so he doesn’t try to talk you out of your frustration. 

“They offered to interview me,” he says, letting Yomi down so she could go back to playing, “both of us actually, to try to clear everything up— offered a shit ton of money too.” 

It was sleezy— publishing a whole exposé, and instead of taking it down, they offered to interview him instead since they’d also be getting the first scoop. You were always going to say no, but you didn’t expect him to turn it down the moment they offered it to him. It was never about the money for him, it was the principle. All he wanted was to get both your faces off that article. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, voice growing raspier. “I’m having a friend look into who took all those photos though. We can’t get them off the internet, but we can still sue the shit out of them for distress.”

“I should get my doctor to prescribe me antidepressants,” you mumble, pulling a chuckle out of the man before his face went back to being flat and lifeless again. “How much did you sleep last night?” 

He takes a deep breath while trying to remember, but eventually gives up with a shrug. “Who knows.” It wasn’t much, that’s for sure. 

“Our flight’s not for another 5 hours, you should try to take a nap.” 

“Can’t,” he grumbles, getting up from the couch, “I haven’t even packed all my shit yet.” 

“Let me do it,” you offer. 

“It’s fine, I g—“ 

“I don’t care,” you wave a hand, clearly not interested in debating over his sleep. Usually he’d have more of a reaction— not today. The mental exhaustion of it all chipped away at his brain and his will argue. “Yomi’s supposed to take a nap anyways, just make her a bottle and sleep on the pull-out couch so I don’t wake you two up while getting everything packed.” 

“You sure?” 

You don’t even know why he asks. The glimmer of hope in his eyes after realizing he really could finally rest was too hard to miss. 

“Yes,” you smile, getting up from the ground. “I’m sure she’d be happy to take a nap with you too.” 

“Doubt it,” he grumbles, running a hand through his hair. “Watch her get all pouty until I put Mit Raetuhl on my phone.” 

You laugh at his mispronunciation of Ms. Rachel as you try to walk past him. He looks like he’s melting into the couch, laying back in a typical manspread with his head thrown back. Yet he still manages to grab your arm before you can get too far from him.

“C’mere,” he says, lazily tugging you toward him.

“What?”

“Just come here,” he murmurs, continuing to tug at you. He sees you glancing at Yomi, who’s back in her own little world right now, and snickers before tugging you towards him enough to wrap his other hand around the back of your neck. “Didn’t even let me get to thank you.”

“You can thank me by going to sleep,” you say in a low tone, nearly holding your breath because you feel like you’re about to fall on him. 

“You’re getting two thank you’s then,” he hums, finally pulling you all the way down and kissing you— deeply. It’s slow and he swipes his tongue over yours from the beginning. You should have expected it with the way he was looking at you, but you let it happen because he looked like he was about to die anyway. 

Then your child finally notices how silent it’s been, turns around, and does this weird pterodactyl screech because she fucking hates when he so much as so gives you a peck on the cheek, so her doll goes flying at her dad. He put on Ms. Rachel immediately after and fell asleep the moment he laid down, letting Yomi watch on his phone beside him.

You really didn’t mind either, you were just in the other room. She was safe. The mattress was low to the ground, her dad wasn’t one to toss and turn in bed either. 

It didn’t stop you from checking in on them and taking photos. Sukuna was already knocked out when you took the first one, with Yomi leaned over him, propping his phone on his chest. She was still awake for the second one, but was actually laying normally while Sukuna had an arm slung over her, still watching her show. And by the third, she was passed out, laying on top of him like a literal starfish, completely forgetting about how pissed she was at him.

—

Life somewhat calmed down as the days progressed. 

Traveling wasn’t too bad since you waited for your flight in a private lounge and boarded the plane first, but Sukuna naturally found a way to stay stressed throughout the trip by using up all of his Wi-Fi on the plane. It was a constant cycle of him checking his phone, then getting pissed that nobody has gotten back to him yet. 

He didn’t talk, which was great, but you still avoided him. Just seeing how stressed he was made you feel the same. 

The hotel situation changed a little as well since he asked for extra security. Luckily it wasn’t too noticeable, just a few more outside of the building, along with one that kept their eyes on the floor of the suite you were staying in. 

The controversy surrounding the news and leaked photos had gotten a little better. Not because it died down, but because Sukuna had gotten some time to get used to it and you stopped checking all the comments on certain media sites and pages. The team's management wasn’t the most useful, mainly because there was nothing much they could do about the photos, so they decided to make up for it by being as supportive as they could. 

Which meant giving Sukuna a raise. The last thing anyone wanted was for him to retire early, and simply saying “this isn’t worth it” over the phone was enough to make them go into overdrive with the damage control. They were aware he was having a bad day, but the chances of him following through with it was a little higher compared to the other players. He didn’t care about drastic life changes, that much was clear when he put most of his partying to a halt after finding out he had a kid. To top it off, not once has anyone heard him complain about it. 

They also matched how much money you’d be losing from taking time off work for the rest of the trip. There was no way in hell Sukuna was going to let some stranger watch his child, it didn’t matter if you were in another room. You were against it at first, knowing all the nannies had background checks. Then you realized that if you were to take Sayomi back home and return to your normal life, you’d most likely be on edge since he wouldn’t be just a few minutes away. You probably would’ve been okay, but probably just wasn’t good enough at the moment, especially when you never knew someone stalked you and took photos for weeks without knowing in the first place. 

Taking time off ended up working out just fine anyways. The assistant you hired to help with some of your clients is teaming up with an agency to manage your client list. She also seems to be trustworthy with all of the info she’s given you about them in private. If she keeps this up you might just be begging her to stay with you if she ever tried to leave. 

Sayomi seems to be happier with not spending time with a stranger for half the day anyways. Not that she was miserable, but you’d rather her be all rainbows and sunshine for most of the day, rather than whatever the hell she was with the last nanny. Side-eyeing the poor woman whenever she spoke— hurts your feelings just thinking about it.

With tomorrow's game and conference, everything should start to settle. At least he hopes. He’s a little more on the optimistic side today, probably because his coach and manager decided it’d be more beneficial for him to take a little more time off and surprised him with a half day. They figured he’d use the time to relax and hang out with his family, which is exactly what he was planning to do. 

All that went through his mind on the way back to the hotel was a hot shower, room service, and a good movie that was appropriate enough for Yomi to watch. He wasn’t doing the whole tea party with demon dolls thing tonight— he couldn’t. This was his day and since Yomi’s too young to get that, he’ll just make it seem like all the fun was for her. 

Walking into the room, he just assumes he’ll be met with something wholesome, like you and his child curled up in bed and taking a midday nap, because why else would it be so quiet right now? But Sayomi’s asleep, in her actual room— obviously. He wouldn’t be witnessing the scene that’s in front of him if you weren’t alone. 

He’s sending his manager and coach a gift basket for this one day. 

Nothing about the building is thin, or creaky. It’s strong, sturdy, will probably not need to be remodeled within the next 50 years, and filled with elements that absorb sound. Now that he thinks about it, he didn’t hear his own footsteps when walking here, the door didn’t creak when opening it. It wasn’t until actually stepping into the room that he began to hear the soft vibrations paired with the slutty little sounds that were escaping your lips. 

Of course you would, you have needs, he’s not a fucking idiot. He sure feels like one though because how did the thought of you fucking yourself not cross his mind before or after you began traveling together?

And of course you wouldn’t notice him, you were too absorbed in what you were doing. You looked like you were having fun. Leaned back against the headboard. Knees up and legs spread. Eyes on the vibrator in your hand, because you used to enjoy watching yourself get fucked by him in the past, so of course you’d enjoy watching yourself get fucked by your own damn self too.

Greedy. Messy as hell, yet still so pretty. This is fucking insane. He’s… stunned. His heart pounds a little faster every time you make a sound because he really shouldn’t be here, but he can’t move. He doesn’t want to. 

“Fuck.” 

Then you look up. And scream. Because he didn’t say that in his head, even though he thought he did. He’s an idiot and now you’re covering yourself. You’re also yelling at him and there’s no way for him to tell you that you should stop because it’s turning him on right now. You’ll probably just yell at him even more.

“What the fuck are you doing here?!”

He doesn’t know how to answer that, he’s still stuck on what was happening a minute ago. He’s also a little dumbfounded by the question. But he finally picks his jaw off the fucking floor to answer your question. “This is my room too,” he says, not even trying to be rude.

“No, what are you doing here?!” you continue to yell at him. “You weren’t supposed to be back until five.”

“Oh— they uh— let me off. Early. Forgot to text you,” he says, still standing there like an idiot. “My bad.”

You let out a long, disappointed sigh. Too busy hoping your heart rate would start to settle from the initial scare that you don’t realize there's a grin steadily growing on the man’s face. But then he opens his fucking mouth, again.

“So have you just been… waiting? To have some alone time to do this?” he says, clearly amused by this all.

“Oh my god— stop,” you grimace, rubbing your temple.. 

“I’m just asking a question,” he snorts, leaning against the wall, probably thinking of a hundred more questions lined up for you. “Do you bring that thing with you whenever you shower?” 

Your face scrunches up in disgust. “Why do you care?”

“I can’t be curious?”

“No, it’s weird,” you scoff. 

“So defensive,” he chuckles and begins to walk over to you, making your stomach drop and hands grip the blanket covering the lower half of your body. As if it couldn’t get any worse, he picks up your vibrator that you didn’t even realize you dropped earlier and turns it on with a shit-eating grin plastered on his face. 

Your eyes grow wide with a mixture of shock and embarrassment, trying to grab it back from him, but the blanket didn’t leave you much range to reach it. Not like you had much of a chance anyways, he reeled his hand back the first time you tried. “What is wrong with you?! Turn that off!” 

“Damn,” he mutters to himself as he inspects it, completely ignoring your more than reasonable reaction. 

“Can you stop fucking smelling it?!” you nearly hiss. 

“Smells good though,” he teasingly responds.

Everything would’ve been fine had he just left, but your soul just about shrivels up and dies at this point from how much worse he’s making everything. He eventually stops and turns the damn thing off, only because you looked like you were going to die and he couldn’t have that happen just yet. 

“Bet you didn’t even get to finish because of me,” he says, as if he actually felt bad for you. 

“You’re such a fucking asshole,” you sigh with your head in your hands.

“I know,” he hums back rather fondly, sitting down in front of you. “I could make it up to you if you pulled the blanket off.”

You let out a dry laugh, “you’re so annoying.” 

“Yeah,” he easily agrees with you. “Can’t even play with yourself because I’m always doing stupid shit like coming home early.” 

You can tell he’s fighting for his life trying to stay serious right now from the way his mouth twitched a couple times, lightly clearing his throat after. His eyes aren’t even on yours anymore, his attention’s directed at the blanket. It might as well be the biggest obstacle he has in life at the moment. It’s not until he reaches forward and lightly pinches the blanket when he finally looks at you, looking past your warning that’s in the form of a glare. 

“Blanket’s soft,” he randomly comments, lifting it up a few inches, grazing your leg in the process. Then the little shit sticks his hand under it to rub your knee. “Legs are soft too— you get a new lotion or something?”

You’ve never met anyone that’s tried their luck as much as him.

“No,” you boredly respond, “they're probably dry right now from the weather.”

“That’s not good,” he shakes his head, acting offended for you. “...It’s probably this blanket— absorbing all the moisture from your legs or something.” 

“It doesn’t work like that,” you say, suppressing a laugh. 

“Get rid of it anyways,” he chuckles. “I’m running out of ideas here.”

“Good, you weren’t slick to begin with.”

“Wasn’t trying to be,” he hums, completely unbothered, still lazily rubbing circles into your leg under the blanket. “I just wanted to get you to laugh, it worked too.”

“I can’t stand you.” You don’t even know why you said it, you sound as serious as him at this point. Not to mention he’s probably getting off on the insults. 

“Lay down then,” he persists, clearly enjoying how stupid this exchange is. 

It was working anyway. Not just the jokes, but from the way he continued to creep closer— your inner thigh now being where his hand rested. There’s no need to look under the blanket to guess how wet you already were, he could feel the heat radiating off of you. 

“C’mon,” he murmurs. “Do I suck at eating pussy or something?”

“It’s not that,” you start, but don’t even complete the sentence. 

“So you’re being stubborn… just to be stubborn?” he smirks, already knowing that’s exactly what it was. 

“It’s not that either,” you shrink down a little, unsure of what else to say because he unfortunately clocked your shit.

“Alright then— since I interrupted you, here’s what I’m gonna do,” he begins to tug at the blanket, “I’m gonna pull this off and put my head in between your thighs, and if you tell me to stop, then I’ll stop.” 

He waits to see if you’ll even say something, but after some time of having a little stare off, he doesn’t hesitate to follow through with it. The blanket was off before you could even blink and the little squeal you let out from how abrupt it was made his dick jump. He pretty much pounced on you, grabbing you by the backs of your knees and holding them up so he get face to face your pussy

“Fuckin’ hell,” he curses to himself, throwing your legs over his shoulder, “can’t believe you get this soaked from watching me beg— that’s one fucked up kink, sweetheart.”

“Not a kink,” you murmur, leaning back and propping yourself up on your elbows. “Didn’t make you beg either.” 

“Maybe not, but it fuckin’ felt like it,” he mumbles, swiping his thumb through your folds and bringing it up to you. He didn’t have to tell you to open your mouth, and definitely didn’t have to tell you to swirl your tongue around it or lightly suck when he pressed down on your tongue. “Always been so good with this mouth— you ever miss having my cock in it?”

You hum and nod slowly. 

“Yeah? Gonna make me beg for that too?”

You shake your head. 

“Liar,” he chuckles, pulling his thumb out of your mouth with a pop before putting his attention back on your dripping folds. “So fuckin’ evil for that.”

You try to talk back, but the words get stuck in your throat when he presses a kiss on your inner thigh. And then hums into another one that was just inches away from where you actually needed him— clearly not in a rush. You shouldn’t even be surprised, he always finds a way to get back at others.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, barely scolding you. "You say you can’t stand me but then you go dumb the second my mouth gets near your pussy.” 

“Yeah because you do shit like tease me,” you argue back, but it comes out as a needy whine.

“Don’t act like you didn’t deserve it,” he chuckles, then leans in again. Except this time he finally gives you what you want— pressing his tongue flat against your entrance and licking one long and painfully slow stripe through your folds, then looks back up to see your reaction. “Did that feel good?” 

“Yeah,” you breathe out.

He dips his head back down and drags his tongue through you again, slower this time, softly groaning into it. He flicks his tongue off your clit, then does it all over again a few more times, enjoying the way he can feel your body tense underneath him.

“Am I still annoying?” he asks. 

“No.”

“That’s what I thought.” 

He doesn’t give you a chance to respond before he’s back on you, wiping away whatever thought you had in your mind with the languid strokes of his tongue— flattening it against your clit and swiping up with the perfect amount of pressure. It’s not rushed, doesn’t feel like he has a goal in mind either. He just plays with you, lapping away at you for fun. Yet he still somehow leaves you out of breath and struggling to keep your legs open. 

“You alright?” he murmurs.

You barely nod and he just laughs. “Use your words, princess.”

“Yeah,” you breathe, barely coherent. “Keep going.”

“Of course,” he says, all while slipping not one, but two of his fingers inside of you. It pulls a gasp out of you and he acts just as shocked as you, because he’s a fucking asshole. “See what happens when you stop being a stubborn brat?”

You all but nod when his mouth goes back to your clit, lightly sucking at it while curling his fingers right into your sweet spot. 

“Be honest with me, baby,” he says, just barely grabbing your attention. “What were you thinking about when you were fuckin’ yourself earlier?”

“You,” you say without hesitation.

“Fuck,” he groans, clearly loving the answer, curling his fingers faster as a reward. “What else were you thinking about it?”

“Fucking you,” you whisper. 

“Look at you being all sweet and answering my questions,” he says mockingly, pulling his fingers out as fast as he pushed them in. “Want my cock instead?” 

“Mhm.”

“Yeah? Want it right now?”

You hesitate for a moment, really thinking about it. “You’re so big though.” 

“Don’t tell me you're scared of it now all of a sudden,” he says in amusement, pressing a kiss on your inner thigh before sitting back to take his shirt off, revealing the inked lines and his chiseled chest.

“No, you’re just mean with it— stop smiling, I'm being serious,” you scoff. "I don't feel like doing that tonight.”

“I can be nice,” he says, taking his boxers off to reveal how fucking hard he is already, leaking precum and throbbing if you look hard enough. He sits down beside you and grabs you by the waist. “C’mere, I’ll take care of you if you get tired.” 

He slowly strokes himself as you move to straddle him, staying up a little to let him run his head through your folds. Your breath sharpens when it grazes over your clit, so he does it again and again until you're complaining, then he finally pushes you down just enough to get the tip in, letting you do the rest.

His thumb moves to rub little circles around your clit as you begin easing yourself down, making it easier to work yourself open with how thick he was, pulling yourself up after each inch you went down, slowly working up to a pace.

“That’s it— let me see you fuck yourself,” he groans, gripping your waist a little tighter, steadying you more than guiding you. “You missed this, didn’t you?” 

“I did,” you say, almost breathless as you bottom out, earning a low hum out of him. 

“I bet.” He begins to move a little on his own, deepening it, hitting a spot that makes your eyes glaze over a little more. “Better than that little vibrator of yours, huh?”

“Fuck— yeah,” you moan, placing your hands on his chest to steady yourself. 

“So stubborn for no reason,” he lazily smirks, grinding your hips down against him. “Just wanted you to feel good— shouldn’t have to hide to cum.”

“Think you just don’t want me to unless it’s with you.”

“I love seeing it,” he murmurs, proudly admitting it. “Watching you cum so hard your legs get all shaky, cryin’ because of me— fuckin’ sexy.”

His hands slide up your back, leaning you forward so he could take over, and you let him. You kiss him and he takes over that too. It’s messy and all tongue, groaning into your mouth, lightly biting your lip when he pulls you away. Your eyes nearly roll into the back of your head when his lips trail down lower, starting from your jaw and working his way down to your chest, all while snapping his hips up harder, going faster. 

His mouth latches on to a nipple and you nearly squeal from how fucking good it feels, flicking and swirling his tongue around it. It gets to a point where you’re just a mess, locked in his arms, unable to escape his tongue and deep thrusts. 

Then he moves his thumb back to your clit and you fucking lose it. 

He grins after pulling his mouth off of you with a pop and then shushes you. “You’re gonna wake her up if you keep screaming like a little slut— you don’t want me to stop, right?”

“No— no, please,” you whine, doing your best to hold it in. 

“Then shut up,” he laughs, and you genuinely want to cry because he just fucks you even faster afterwards. You’re left whimpering into the crook of his neck, fighting the urge to bite down while taking every inch he gives you, yet your only complaint is the fact that you’re out of breath. 

It’s worth it.

He never lets up, grabbing your ass and rolling your hips down to meet each and every thrust, hitting the spot that makes you weak until you start to feel the pressure start to build up inside of you. You tighten around him and he cracks for once, letting out a moan that’s a little breathier, sounding needier for once. 

“Fuck— you’re gonna cum, aren’t you?” He feels you nodding against him in response and changes the pace, his thrusts becoming strokes, making you feel every inch and vein he drags through you. “Did so good for me— that’s it baby, go ahead and cum for me.”

The rest of his words go in one ear and out the other, feeling something inside of you break while he continued to work it out of you. It was overwhelming. Messy. The only thing you could hear after coming to your senses were the wet squelches and the downright sinful moans that came out of Sukuna whenever he was close. 

“Want me to pull out?” he breathes, just barely remembering to ask. 

“No, s’okay,” you murmur back, barely coherent, limp against him. 

He thought he had a little more time, but came right then and there, just barely controlling the long, drawn on moan that left him while pumping you full of his cum. Holding your hips down against him, burying himself as deep he could inside of you as if he was trying to get it to take. 

He wasn’t as rough as he’d been in the past, yet you both felt just as worn out, if not more. Not even the stickiness between you bothered you. Minutes of silence passed by, not awkward, just too tired to move. But after some time, he takes a deep breath and gently runs his hand up and down your back. 

“You awake?” he asks, voice raspier than usual. 

“Barely,” you murmur against his skin. 

“I swear I wasn’t trying to get you to pass out this time,” he warmly says, stifling a laugh. “I didn’t hurt you or anything, right?” 

“No.” A little smile creeps up on you. “I’m surprised you’re even asking.” 

“Just making sure— wanted you to enjoy yourself this time,” he says, resting his head against yours. “You should be grateful.”

“How thoughtful,” you mutter. “But no, I did enjoy myself.”

“Good,” he hums, clearly pleased with himself. 

“We should probably get cleaned up though,” you say, clearly a little sad about it. “Yomi’s probably gonna wake up soon.”

“Cockblock— ow fuck,” he hisses, rubbing the spot on his shoulder that you just pinched. “I was fuckin’ kidding.”

“Sure you were,” you mutter back. 

He continues, “Before you pinched the fuck out of me, I was gonna say you should get some sleep in and I’ll just keep my eye on the baby monitor.”

“I shouldn’t,” you groan a little, torn from trying to be somewhat responsible. “It’s almost 3, I don’t wanna accidently sleep the entire time she’s up.”

“I’ll wake you up if you sleep too long then,” he says, like it’s a no brainer. “Just get some rest, you look like you’re about to pass out any minute now anyways.” 

“Ok, fine,” you grumble. “Go shower before she wakes up though.”

“I know,” he chuckles, pressing a kiss on your temple before getting up.

You notice him looking around for a bit— almost pathetically. You tried to give him the chance, but time was ticking, so you finally spoke up. “The baby monitors on the nightstand behind me.”

“You couldn’t say that earlier?” he grumbles, already annoyed at how long it was taking to find in the first place. 

“I had a little more hope in you.”

“Go to sleep,” he groans, snatching up the little screen and walking straight towards the bathroom to take the world's quickest shower, since his child acts like she’s been abandoned and cries hysterically if one of you takes too long to grab her. 

It was a good idea. By the time he stepped out, she was already up and looking all around the room, violently fighting the urge to cry. He just barely got out and threw on his sweats in time before she really got mad. 

Maybe he could’ve gotten to her even sooner had he not taken a moment to look at you, but it’s not often he gets to see you as blissfully knocked out as you were. Sprawled across the mattress, lightly snoring into the pillow. He was definitely going to have to wake you up later.

—

“How many more minutes left do we have?” Sukuna asks into the mic, hoping a hundred reporters won’t jump to answer all at once. But they don’t, they’ve surprisingly been on their best behavior. Must’ve gotten a warning or something before entering.

“About 15 minutes,” one of the managers on the sides answered for him instead.

“Should I just…?” He finishes the question off by pointing to the back room, throwing off the reporters. 

“Yeah, I think now's good.”

“Alright,” he stands up from his seat and turns to walk away, but then turns back and leans down to the mic, deciding he should warn the reporters real quick. “I know we’ve all been talking normally the past forty-five minutes, but I need you all to keep it that way when I get back. No shouting. No acting overly excited. If it happens even once, I’m leaving.”

He doesn’t wait for a response or a nod before stepping away, it’s not like he was asking anyways, he was telling them. One of the reporters gave his teammate a confused look, but all he did was shrug and feign ignorance, even though the entire team was aware of what was going on. The entire room steadily grew quiet while waiting for the rugby player to get back. The only thing that cut that silence was hearing random babbling along with someone that sounded like a calm version of Sukuna pretending to understand the kid. 

Talkative for sure. At least up until Sukuna came back into view with the kid in his arms, who went radio silent after seeing everyone. To his luck, there was no yelling or unnecessary squealing, just a soft wave of awes that actually made him smile in public for once. He moved his mic closer to the edge of the table and sat down. He usually leans forward with his elbows on the table during conferences, but this time moved the chair a little further away and leaned back in his seat so his daughter had room to move around. 

“So uh–” he starts, briefly looking at Sayomi who does not look like she wants to be there. “I’m sure you all saw the news that’s been going around, so we decided it’d be best to answer any questions you all had here since I don’t have much time to do extra interviews to begin with. The questions are obviously gonna be personal, but don’t go too crazy with ‘em.”

He looks to the PR manager that flew out here specifically for this conference, waiting for some sort of direction, genuinely feeling a little nervous himself. The manager caught that and took over the room for a moment. 

“Also, please don’t jump to ask your questions in hopes to get answered first. His daughter isn’t used to crowds, so we’d like to keep the environment as calm as we can for her,” they add, knowing that it already annoys Sukuna in general. “Alright, now you can introduce her.”

“Cool,” he mutters and looks at Sayomi again, who’s just staring everyone down with straight up judgement in her eyes, but looks back at him when he starts talking. “Well this is my daughter Sayomi. She turned one a few months ago and gets to travel with me all season. M’not sure what else to say— wanna say hi to everybody?”

He moves the mic closer to her and to his surprise, she answers right away. 

“No.” 

Clear and concise. There’s a soft wave of laughter coming from the crowd and some of his teammates who are already aware of what she’s like. 

“Okay,” he smiles. “Just gonna sit here and hang out?”

“Ya.” 

“Sounds good,” he says, looking back up. “Alright, guy in the blue polo, you look like you’re dying to ask a question. Let’s start with you.”

“Oh– thank you,” he gets up immediately, eager to ask the question everyone’s been dying to ask. “Since you mentioned having your daughter with you all season and you were already traveling when the article came out, what do you have to say about the article itself and the picture it tried to paint about your private life?”

“I think the person who wrote it needs to start using their brain,” he boredly says. “They tried to make it a big deal by making it seem like I was hiding her and didn’t want anyone finding out, but a lot of those photos are of us being out in public. You wouldn’t see me bringing her to restaurants or taking her to an ice cream shop if it was like that.”

As expected, the first question opened the door for a wide range of questions. 

“If I may ask, what was the mother of your child's reaction to the exposé?”

“Violated— she enjoys her privacy, so waking up and seeing her and her child's face all over the internet was probably her worst nightmare. They made it look like she was just a one night stand too, I’ve known her for a while now.”

“How would you say your life changed after becoming a father?”

“Guess I don’t go out and party as much anymore. All of my free time goes to her now too, but it’s been fun.”

“What’s been your favorite memory with her within the last six months?”

“When we took her to get her ears pierced,” he chuckles, noticing the reporter look confused because Sayomi’s ears clearly weren’t. “I decided to get mine pierced that day too, and seeing me get them was enough for her— she didn’t like seeing that at all and just had a meltdown. Her mother had to sit in the backseat with her on the way home and enjoyed the attention so much that she dragged it out and started fake crying.”

“What’s your relationship like with her mother? Will we be seeing her at any of your games?”

“I don’t know. She likes staying out of the public eye, so she’s more comfortable watching from the private rooms. But it’s good, we get along.”

“How did you meet her?” 

“Work trip, we ended up being on the same flight afterwards too.”

The questions started moving more towards you, and thankfully the conference ended right after that last one. You were fine with him bringing Yomi to the conference, with your only request being to not give too many details about her, and it would’ve gotten more difficult from there.

From start to finish Yomi looked miserable, he could only imagine how long those fifteen minutes felt for her. It wasn’t until he walked back into the private room you were waiting for them in when she finally looked happy again, throwing her arms out so you’d pick her up. 

“Did you have fun with your dad?” you ask excitedly, taking her in your arms.

“Ya!” 

A snitch and a liar. He shakes his head and goes to grab one of the croissants on the table. It was dry, but enough to hold him over. Game days were the worst for him, having to stay for over an extra hour is what really throws his hunger over the edge. 

At least this time around you remembered that and ordered room service ahead of time. The staff had brought it up right when he took his shoes off at home. Yomi didn’t even bother asking him for some because she was already falling asleep, deliriously waving goodbye to him when you told her to before putting her down for her nap. She went down easily, he was only halfway through his food when he heard the door to her room open and shut. 

“That was fast,” he comments, popping a cube of beef in his mouth. He has no idea what the dish is called, but he needs to find out before you leave or else he’ll spend the rest of his life mad that he didn’t. 

You ordered yourself something too, a dish you had no idea what was called, but ordered because it looked good. “Being around all those people probably drained her,” you say, sliding into the seat next to him. 

“She didn’t even do anything.” 

“You said she looked like she didn’t want to be there. Hating your life drains you pretty fast.”

Ironic how there was a whole article that made it seem like he tried to hide her from the world, only for her to show the world how much she hated being around everyone. She was so cute up there with him though. You couldn’t stop laughing at all the faces she made while watching the playback during the car ride to the hotel. Sukuna ended up doing the same while waiting for you to finish your food. 

“Everyone’s going out again tonight to celebrate the win,” he says, watching you take your last bite of food. 

You finish chewing before responding to him, almost considering if you should chew slower because he looked like he wanted something. “Are you going this time?” It’s not like you could go out anymore with the decision to not have a nanny around. 

He shakes his head. “Feels weird leaving you two like that.” 

“Even with the extra security?” you tilt your head and ask. 

“Yeah. At least not until Uraume figures out who took all those pictures.” He leans back and sips his water. “Having someone take pictures in Australia just makes me think it’s some serious stalker.” 

Just the thought makes your stomach drop. “Do you think they followed us here?”

“I don’t know. I feel like it’d be easy since you can just search where all our future games would be at.” 

Your stomach drops even more. “Could we move to hotels in different cities?” 

“If you want, yeah,” he shrugs. “They’d probably be able to find it though if they really wanted. That’s why I asked for extra security instead.” 

“I see,” you murmur, picking at your food with a fork. 

“Uraume should find them soon though,” he reassures you. “But for now you two are kind of stuck with me.”

“Like we weren’t already before?” 

“It’s gonna be so much worse now,” he says, making it sound like it’s just you who should be worried.

“Yeah? Do I need to start hiding from you whenever Yomi’s asleep?” 

“You know you can’t hide from me, sweetheart,” he reminds you, it feels like an actual threat this time. “I’d probably like it if you tried to run though.”

notes: go easy on me in the asks lol

All rights reserved © 2025 yenayaps. Do not copy, repost, translate, or modify my works in any platform.

[princesslai]

I can even think of a combination of words to describe the love I have for this

[sixeyesonathiel]

bad ideas in bikini – itinerary

pairing — tech bro satoru x fem reader

synopsis : gojo satoru was supposed to be taking a break—doctor’s orders if the doctor was his best friend threatening to physically chain him to the cruise ship. he had no plans to meet anyone, no interest in vacation flings, and definitely no time to entertain the woman across the hall who looked at him like he was the personification of a migraine. but then you slammed your door in his face, and for reasons he’s still trying to untangle, he’s been thinking about that glare ever since.

he’s not the type to fall easy—he’s too smart for that. a date-to-marry kind of guy, a serial monogamist in theory, if not in practice. but you? you’re not interested in dating, not interested in him, and somehow that makes everything worse. or better. depends on the hour. because every time he tries to mind his business, there you are—in a bikini that rewires his brain, in an argument that turns into flirting, in his head long after you’ve left.

he keeps telling himself it’s nothing serious, that it’s just sunstroke or poor judgment, that you’re just a summer situation he’ll laugh about later. except every time you leave, it feels less like a fling and more like he’s one wrong decision away from wanting everything.

status : ongoing (3/15 chapters, 13.4k wordcount) ✦ tags -> cruise ship au, summer situationship, romantic comedy, fluff, humor, eventual smut, porn with plot, sexual tension, banter, reader is emotionally unavailable, satoru is a workaholic, bad decisions in luxury settings, more tags to be added, majestic art by @/dmsco1803 on x

gen. masterlist | read on ao3?

vacation timeline

day 01 , day 02 , day 03 , day 04 , day 05 , day 06 , day 07 , day 08 , day 09 , day 10 , day 11 , day 12 , day 13 , day 14 , after the waves.

passenger list : @miffyliebe @heh123321 @jijijihanji @chuiisi @etsuniiru @hails-trom @ravenbc @yukiyaaaa @juststrawbs @strawberrychita @endedlove @arabellasolstice @starlight5cat @fisusaurus @ayumilk @sofi4dsam @vynn30 @kkataleena @anthastudios @satorusprites @camy-yh @woosaniesworld @raendarkfaerie @onixsky @k0z3me @pomegranatepip @satotorulove @ffaeriee @ieathairs @jihyosdrider @satoruxsc @j311yb34nz @candyluvsboba @ethereal-moonlit @1r2u3b4y5 @surgikull @tofumiao @deffenferofjustice @thenonweeknd @fluerful @kamuihz

passenger list is still open, comment if you want to be added!

[sixeyesonathiel]

day three out 😗

[indiewritesxoxo]

faking it

everyone has a price - even suguru geto

synopsis: with no friends and a wallet full of cash, you concoct one last idea to make your final semester one to remember. paying everyone's favorite pretty playboy to pretend to be your boyfriend to complete your college bucket list before you start the life your family is forcing you into. but you might be buying far more than you bargained for.

pairings: broke!Geto x rich!Reader x dropout!Sukuna

content: mdni, angst and fluff and smut, college au, fake dating, pining, yearning, falling in love, jealousy, hurt/comfort, piv sex, drunk sex, oral (m! + f! receiving), car sex, making out, drinking and parties, piercings/tattoos, complicated feelings, regret, healing, more tags in each part

art by @aransmind !!

bank statements

first transaction | loose change | iou | (rain) check | splurge

scammed | declined | debt | last check | ink | overdraft

[reignpage]

Wolverine!Toji

In which you don't know where you stand with Wolverine!Toji

Wolverine!Toji doesn’t talk to people. Hates them. Time has proven again and again that everyone’s out for themselves, that he’s better off alone, drowning himself in the extra strong shit and moving from place to place when suspicions about his nature arises. 

Of course, the last thing he expected to meet was another one of his kind on the road – a young, pretty thing that stands out way too fucking much and doesn’t realise it. You’re too doe-eyed, too kind, too yappy. He didn’t want to take you in but you goddamn followed him. Saved you once from some drunk bastards and suddenly you looked at him like he was some hero, smiling at him and shit. 

“Fuck off,” he growled. “I ain’t taking strays.”

You didn’t listen. Everywhere he went, you were there. It was as if you didn’t get tired of all the travelling, all the silence, and the dismissive glares he threw. He stalked the woods, weaving through the trees, resting in caves and getting wasted in bars. Meanwhile, you were always close by, walking, watching, and waiting.

When did he get used to your presence?

When did he begin to accept it? Accept you?

Was it when he found comfort in looking back and finding something other than his shadow? Or did the walls that had erected themselves years and years ago finally grew cracks when he was in that near-death phase once more, when the chilling cold of the season began to set in his bones and rendered him paralysed on the hard ground, and you approached quietly, building a fire with nothing but your mind and hands, and retreated?

Maybe Wolverine!Toji liked that you understood – he isn’t anyone’s friend and you’re certainly not his. If you’re gonna stick by him like a flea, you’re gonna make yourself useless at the very least. 

So, when his cigar needed lighting, he’d raise that unruly brow of his and you’d turn yourself into a lighter. If the nights grew too cold again, you’d build a circle of fire around him. And if bloodthirsty bastards come looking for a good hunt, you didn’t get in the way, didn’t wince when the knives slid out between his knuckles, didn’t cower when metal meets flesh, nor when blood kisses grass. 

You could hold your own too. 

Wolverine!Toji respected that. 

That was how you and him came to be. 

────୨ৎ────

“You’re gonna have to get over this, bubs.”

Wolverine!Toji sits on a bed in a room that doesn’t belong to him, as is usually the case, and attempts once more to coax you out of this gloomy shell you’ve cast over yourself. 

Over the years, he’s learnt that you don’t like change any more than him. Staying here, at the school, working with the professor, and teaching the kids was new for him and for you. But if there’s any skill he’s developed out in the wild, it’d be adapting. Life hands out unlucky deals all the time; you gotta know how to make the most out of it. 

Frowning, you reply, “Why?”

“Because this shit’s better than what we were dealing with out there.” Wolverine!Toji won’t admit to anyone but you that he could get used to this – roof over his head, warm bed to slip into every night, no one looking at him like they see the metal weighing him down. Life here is simple, it’s peaceful, it’s…nice. 

If only you could see that. 

Still refusing to leave your room, you remain curled up in the corner, wearing your dirty clothes and a pout. You don’t understand why he would agree to teach, to go on those missions, to listen to anyone but himself. There’s freedom in being on the run, in not having a routine, or a palace to call your own. Life was great when it was just the two of you, having each other’s back. He hunts for you. You light the fire. That’s how it worked. 

Now, there’s a cafeteria that serves food at regular times. There’s a central heating system, blankets and a spacious bathroom. No one’s pointing a gun at his head or tearing him to pieces. You no longer need to wait whilst he patches himself back up. People don’t bat an eye at either of your mutations, neither of you stand out; you fit right in. 

It’s weird. 

“But,” you begin, watching his ears twitch and his bouncing knee halt, “I don’t have anything to do here…they’ll kick me out.”

Wolverine!Toji sighs. Soon, he’s in your corner, squatting to meet your eyes, and the look in them softens his tense expression, washing away the frustrated reprimand biding its time. “Look, the professor already said there’s a place here for everyone, you just gotta find it. And before you start, I know that sounds like bull, but I know him. He’s a good man. Too good probably. They’re doing real work here. Building a future for you, for us, for those kids. There’s something worth seeing here. You can trust them. You gotta.”

“I don’t. I can’t.”

He pats your head. “Then trust me. We have each other’s backs, yeah? Nothing’s gonna change that.”

And you believe him. 

────୨ৎ────

Wolverine!Toji has taken a special interest in a red head. She’s pretty. Smart too. Patched you up when you first came. She had made clear she was with someone, her fiancé, and they looked happy together. That’s never stopped him before though. 

Jogging past you, he’ll catch up to her, flash her a grin and say something that makes her roll her eyes. Still, she’ll entertain him, won’t step back, or look away. In a way, you can’t really blame her. Wolverine!Toji has that effect on people, when he wants to. A man like him is stimulated by the hunt, by the push and the pull, and the having something he shouldn’t, if only to piss people off. 

Dedicated to the cause, he rarely comes by your room, doesn’t eat with you, and leaves you feeling lucky if he even greets you a good morning. It’s okay, you suppose. This isn’t the first time you’ve watched him work his charms to get into someone’s pants, after all. Old habits die hard. 

But new habits don’t develop this fast, do they?

Wolverine!Toji doesn’t make a fool of himself for someone’s attention. He doesn’t pick fights with good men. And he doesn’t ever brush a lock of hair out of a woman’s face, scraping the callouses on his fingers against her soft skin. Does he?

The man you’ve accompanied for years wouldn’t cut you off mid-sentence, rushing to be on time for anything other than beer on tap. Sure, he’s never been the most vocal with you, but he listens. All the stories you’ve told from a time long past, he hears and remembers them. The questions you have he answers, albeit in short, vague bursts. He doesn’t brush you off.

Above all, Wolverine!Toji never, ever makes himself comfortable. He’d never unpack the few clothes he has. Any room he’s fortunate to find wouldn’t be decorated. The names of the people he sees don’t stay in his mind. Kids don’t look up to him. Women don’t become regulars. 

Wolverine!Toji never settles. 

Never says, ‘Let’s go home.’ 

And if he did, it would be to you first, right?

You knock on his door, feeling restless. It opens a moment or two later, revealing a bare torso, a messy head of hair, and an impatient man. Eyes groggy, he grunts. “What is it?”

“I just wanted to ask if you’d like to go for a walk. I feel like we haven’t talked in a long time and, I don’t know, I kinda miss you.”

Brushing a hand through his hair, he exhales through his nose. “Listen, kid. Let’s talk tomorrow. It’s late and I got a mission in the morning.”

“No, but that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. You’re always on a mission and I never see you. We’re supposed to have each other’s backs, right? I can’t have yours when I can’t come with you, when I don’t know what you’re doing, or where you are.”

Wolverine!Toji scoffs. “You need to back off. We’re not some old married couple. What I do ain’t your business. Quit acting possessive.”

And he closes the door in your face. 

Though not before you see a flash of red on his bed. 

────୨ৎ────

The day you left was like any other day. There were no guards on these grounds, just a peaceful silence of the morning to come. Dew stuck to the grass, softening every step you took further and further away from the walls. Life was often so busy in the school that these kinds of things happened without making waves. You didn’t say goodbye, didn’t linger, didn’t look back. Not even when that familiar voice spoke in your mind.

“Are you sure this is what you want, child?” 

Hiking the bag higher up your shoulder, you frowned. “Get out of my head, old man.”

“This is your home. You belong here, with us…with him.”

Warm, gentle, and understanding, it was often a surprise to you every time to find no judgement in his voice. The professor, from the very first moment of meeting, struck you as an otherworldly being, a man who had lived a thousand lives and came out just as principled, as kind, and as restricted by his body as he was liberated by his mind. 

Even in the darkness of dawn, with the chill of wind’s isolation, you carried no anger in you for the man whose words carry the truest of intentions. So, you simply said, “I don’t know where I belong, okay? For the longest time, it had only ever been me and him. I thought we both felt the calling of the wild, both found solace in one another, and resented being tied down. But I see now that he wanted more, deserved more. He readily accepts change because this is where he was always meant to be. And I can’t take that away from him.”

“I can’t change your mind. I know that,” he said. “Just as I know you do not want me to tell him. That you hope he will notice on his own and lament your absence. You do not want him to be upset but you also hope he will be. Fickle are the heart’s wants, no?”

To that, you had no answer. Wishing him any kind of pain was shameful and yet you knew the words he uttered were true – there was resentment boiling inside you, springing from a sense of abandonment, of betrayal. Above all, however, you wished him well. He deserved happiness. 

“Yes, he does. It is only funny to me that you somehow believe that happiness can only come by with your disappearance. My child, it is the opposite. He needs you.”

“Goodbye, professor.”

────୨ৎ────

Wolverine!Toji didn’t follow. 

He sensed something was off as soon as he opened his eyes. Perhaps even earlier. Could feel the misalignment in his bones. Grunting, he gently lifted her head from his chest and laid it down on the pillows. Dressed and raking a hand through his hair, he left and ventured down the hall, hearing the professor before he saw his grim face.

They stared at each other for mere moments. Countless thoughts passed by. A whole conversation flitting by in silence within the confines of the mahogany walls and golden candelabra. 

Gruff and low, he asked, “How was –?”

“Adamant,” the professor replied, always ahead. “But okay. Strong. Determined. Ready.”

That was all Wolverine!Toji needed to know. For as long as his little companion had a clear head, he knew you’d survive. You’re skilled. You’re a fighter. A mutant who had only ever known the wild. Maybe one day you’ll change, like him. Maybe you’ll embrace the new world. 

For now, you only need yourself. 

There’s no doubt in his mind that you’d cross paths once more; it’s the way the woods work – what first appears as an endless fucking maze is actually a long road taking lost souls to the same destination. He’ll sniff you out. He will. 

Just hang in there. 

It's rushed as hell but I just had to get it out of my head before I have to leave my laptop at home. Sorry for the sad/ambiguous ending too lol I actually have an alternative/happy ending saved but I can't just throw it in here willynilly

Eh I'll figure it out

Was just thinking about jjk and x-men collab ugh it's eating me alive. This is definitely very on the nose but I don't care rahhhhh

Hope everyone has a great summer!

( ˶ˆ꒳ˆ˵ )

[princesslai]

No words

[mintmatcha]

people will be like. you have a baby and it permanently changes who you are as a person and your body and your spirit and its awful every step of the way. you should do it

[indiewritesxoxo]

faking it

scammed | previous chapter | chapter index

everyone has a price - even suguru geto

synopsis: with no friends and a wallet full of cash, you concoct one last idea to make your final semester one to remember. paying everyone's favorite pretty playboy to pretend to be your boyfriend to complete your college bucket list before you start the life your family is forcing you into. but you might be buying far more than you bargained for.

pairings: broke!Geto x rich!Reader x dropout!Sukuna

content: mdni, angst and fluff, college au, fake dating, pining, yearning, reader is a bit oblivious, she means well but genuinely can NOT believe someone has feelings for her, sukuna trying (and failing) to flirt with her (again), kissing, touching, awkward intimacy, emotional hurt, loneliness, avoidant reader, revelations and confessions

art by @aransmind !!

It was kind of sad it was the first time someone told you point blank that they liked you.

"What?" You blinked. It didn't compute. And okay, it's not like you were a genius at math, but you couldn't get your brain to add together what he was saying in a way that made sense.

Sukuna scoffed, brows pinched together in frustration again.

"Are you seriously going to make me say it again?" He groaned, leaning in. His other hand pressing flat against your car so you'd actually have to duck under it if you wanted to escape, caged between his body and the door.

"You like me?" You repeated it, and the disbelief in your voice was a more than a little embarrassing.

"Yes," Sukuna deadpanned.

You know, for someone who jumped to conclusions a lot, you couldn't decide which one to come to when everything felt equally outlandish.

He could see it on your face. The confusion. The information refusing to set in.

Would it be weird to ask why?

"I don't get it," You honestly replied. Sukuna didn't roll his eyes - but you could see the obvious exasperation in it. A pinprick stabbed through your heart, and you were painfully aware how much you wanted what he was saying to be true.

How much you wanted him to like you.

And not just as a colleague or acquaintance or fucking friend.

"I. Like. You."

His nose was nearly close enough to touch yours, and then it did, just barely grazing against you. You couldn't help but glance down at his lips, a pretty pink temptation he was practically shoving in your face.

You couldn't.

Shouldn't.

He exhaled. Long and slow. His breath on your skin. Inhaling like he was taking a drag of you.

But he didn't kiss you either.

"Do you like me?" He murmured, and goosebumps trailed down your arms, shivering without so much as a breeze passing by.

"Yeah," You choked on the lump in your throat, forcing yourself to meet the intensity behind his eyes. "I do."

The corner of those teasing lips curled up, a crinkle beside his squint before he suddenly pulled away.

"Good."

Good?

You wanted to ask what he meant, what this was, but it seemed he rendered you stunned and speechless.

"Saturday night," He grunted when you didn't say anything.

"What?" You felt stupid. Like some dumb girl with her first crush, stuttering around him like you only had enough braincells to babble.

"Are you free?" He asked, cocking a slit brow up.

"Oh, um, yeah, I guess," You nervously rambled, already searching for excuses to make to yourself about why he was asking. "Did Yuki tell you to ask?"

Deep down, you knew that didn't really make sense. But it was easier to deal with than any of the other options.

Sukuna chuckled, and his shoulders relaxed.

"No," He answered. The sky was dark, the light from inside reflecting back through the amused glint in his eyes. "But if you want to party with them, we can stop by the club they go to."

You didn't miss the way he said stop by.

But the implication of where else he wanted to take you - what he might want to do - it felt too big.

"Okay," You agreed, holding your breath before realizing that wasn't exactly an answer "I mean, sure."

"Good," He said the word again - four little letters that left you feeling even funnier the second time around.

Half of you was thrilled. And the other half was terrified.

You didn't know how the fuck you were supposed to talk to Suguru after this. How to talk to anyone when your brain would be stuck on how broad Sukuna's back was when he turned to walk away, the hint of a tattoo peeking out under his sleeve that you started to think you might get a better glimpse at this weekend.

You had made up your mind before you had even snapped out of it enough to get back in your car dazed and practically drunk on the shallow intimacy of just a few seconds with Sukuna. Maybe you'd say you were studying and couldn't call Suguru back tonight. Push it off for a few days until you could figure out how you felt.

Around him, you couldn't control your emotions. Not very well, at least. Some twisted combination of anxiety, excitement, and anticipation that held you onto his every word, every touch.

For whatever weird reason, a hint of guilt had creeped in, like you were somehow cheating in a relationship that had never been real to begin with. On someone who only pitied you anyway.

If it was just about money like you suspected, you supposed you could just send him extra online for now. Another thank you for helping you make some friends since the girls that had been there had actually been texting you for the past few days instead of leaving you on read.

He wasn't your boyfriend. He was barely a friend.

Maybe wouldn't even call himself as much.

Suguru wouldn't care if you weren't around.

It was probably normal to miss your girlfriend. But what about a fake one?

Suguru had never really known what that was like.

Dated around some, sure, but had been on this end of things. Where he stared at the phone after every text you sent him, wondering how to change your mind or convince you to come study with him when you said you got home late from work, too busy with papers and exams.

Declining his call after work, sending a soft voice message apologizing for being too tired and out of it. One he probably listened to too many times.

You'd still walk with him to class the rest of the week, let him hold your hand and kiss your cheek, but you were pulling back. Putting distance there. Treating it like it was a transaction, giving him cash or sending it through your phone like he was some fucking cashier and you were the customer who felt bad for him.

Suguru didn't know how to tell you to stop. That he didn't want it anymore. Didn't need it to stick around.

And there you were, thanking him earnestly anyway, telling him you hoped he had a good day each time and meaning it.

He felt like shit hardly talking to you this week. Maybe ten minutes total, always stuck on the way you glanced over your shoulder at him before you disappeared through some door. The faint flash of hurt, the disappointment that would shine in your eyes when you thought he wasn't paying attention.

"Why are you so nervous?" Gojo laughed at him, glancing over at him from the passenger seat outside the tattoo shop Saturday afternoon. "Does it have something to do with-"

"I haven't talked to her about the catfish yet," Suguru grumbled. That's what it had to be. He didn't know how they got your photos, or what they had against you and him back then, but it was the only thing that made sense.

The you he'd gotten to know never would've said any of that shit to him.

"Why?" Gojo groaned, tapping the center console impatiently, itching to go inside despite the fact Suguru has dragged him there too early. He had to tell him the truth - not that it made an of it less humiliating to hear himself admit that he wasn't really dating you. That you'd paid him to pretend to be just to make some more friends.

"I don't want to make an even bigger ass out of myself," He muttered.

"So ask her on a date," Gojo rolled his eyes. "A real one."

It sounded easy when he said it.

But Suguru wasn't sure you'd say yes.

If you trusted him enough to give him a second chance.

But Gojo didn't give him the chance to even debate it before he had stolen his phone from the cupholder and unlocked it, calling your number before Suguru could stop him.

Shoving it back over the second you picked up, your pretty voice waiting for him on the other end. "Oh, um, hi?"

"Hey," Suguru exhaled, nervousness pricking at his skin.

"Do you need something?" You asked, uncertain. Unsure of what he was asking from you.

"No," He said it a little too bluntly, forcing himself to soften his voice as he cleared his throat. "I just wanted to know if you were busy this weekend."

"If I'm busy?" You echoed.

"Are you working?" Suguru added, loathing how stupid he sounded.

"Not today, but tomorrow," You answered, and before he could get his hopes up, you continued. "I'm going out with some coworkers tonight."

Suguru could tell you were anxious. Could hear it in the small quiver to your voice. You were probably sitting on your bed, cross-legged and chewing on the inside of your cheek. Picking at your nails or reapplying a fresh coat of polish like it'd hide how much you bit them. What color were your sheets?

You liked pink. But for some reason, in his head they were a pale shade of green, something soft. Or maybe it was warm, comforting.

"You'll be fine," He reassured, half of him wishing he was with you now instead, rubbing circles over the back of your hand with his thumb. "Have fun."

"Oh," You squeaked, a cute surprised sound escaping before you recovered. "Thanks, Suguru."

The way you said his name made his heart race.

"What time do you get off tomorrow?" He asked.

"Um, I dunno, it depends, why?" You hummed, and he hoped you were blushing.

"Let's grab dinner." Three words had never been so hard to say.

"It might be late," You warned, but Suguru was just glad it wasn't an automatic no.

"It'll be my treat," He insisted.

"Are you sure?" You tentatively posed the question, as if you were waiting for him to take it back.

He chuckled, "Positive."

And a couple hours later, with the tattoo gun piercing his skin, your voice was still ringing in his head over the dull drone of the machine and the heavy rock playing through the speakers. Sukuna barely spoke outside of grumbling instructions or telling him when to move. It was better that way.

He didn't want to deal with another fake conversation with someone who didn't really care.

Suguru's shoulder ached - but not quite as much as his heart did.

He wanted to see you so bad it was honestly embarrassing. Needed to clear the air in person, apologize for being so standoffish and explain what happened. Although, he didn't exactly have proof - the account he'd blocked didn't seem to even exist anymore.

All week he'd been asking around, and yet he hadn't found a single hint or clue to what happened.

The bell to the front door chimed, but Suguru didn't look over, studying the almost-finished tattoo in the mirror hanging on the opposite wall.

"Give me a minute," Sukuna grunted, wiping it down and peeling off his gloves with a huff before standing up.

That man might be an asshole who lacked customer service skills, but he certainly made up for it with sheer talent.

Suguru rolled his shoulder back, watched the way way the fine lines moved. Gojo hadn't said what he was getting, but he was a little surprised his friend hadn't finished yet, only overheating the occasional chatter from him and the other tattoo artist.

"Hi."

He almost missed it. Nearly chalked it up to a daydream, or a hallucination from how little he'd been sleeping. Your voice, lilting up happily.

It couldn't be you, not here, at least, not-

"You're early," Sukuna grunted.

"Thought you might be hungry, and well-"

"You look good."

Suguru turned - face frozen in a stunned scowl at the scene in front of him.

You, in a pretty little black dress, all dreamy and dolled up, smiling up at his tattoo artist and handing him a fucking sandwich. You didn't look good. You looked delicious.

And Sukuna was staring down at you like he wanted to devour you.

"Are you sure?" You tilted your head to the side, so sincere it made him want to scream, not even a sliver of being sly present in your face. Sukuna had taken the sandwich from you, opening the bag and taking an oversized bite while you started to ramble. "Yuki said I could wear anything, but I didn't know-"

He stuffed the sandwich between your lips to shut you up.

Your nose scrunched up as you grabbed it and tried to not make a mess chewing what was in your mouth. Hand covering your face while a smirk curled up on Sukuna's lips.

"I meant it," He muttered, leaning down and wiping away a crumb from your bottom lip while you swallowed your bite. You being flustered was nothing new, but fuck, seeing you flushed and fumbling for your words for someone else was.

Suguru had been jealous before.

But that was just a little taste. A bitter hint of it on his tongue. This festering feeling stirring in his stomach threatening to make the bile come up his throat was brand new.

"I'm a little scared" You admitted, laughing a little, holding your breath and basically beaming. "I don't think it's really going to be my scene."

Was this your job?

Had you been here all those fucking days you'd turned him down? Sitting pretty at the counter while Sukuna probably stared at your tits the way he was doing right now?

You didn't even seem to notice.

For someone who wanted so badly to be liked, you somehow completely fucking missed the fact you were wanted too.

"I'm not going to leave you." And yeah, it sounded sarcastic coming from Sukuna's lips, harsh and snappy, but it seemed to make you relax, your shoulders slumping a little as he pulled out the chair behind the counter for you to sit on.

Suguru could feel the warmth in your smile from here.

"Is Yuki here yet?" You asked, tilting your head up like some cute lost puppy dog waiting to be pet.

"Nah," Sukuna shrugged. "Wait here. I'm almost finished with my client."

You nodded almost obediently, putting your purse under the counter and Suguru saw it, the way your head tilted, about to turn back and look his direction.

Until Gojo spoke up.

"Small world, huh?" A loud laugh, and then there he was, a bandage over his bicep as he leaned across the counter to poke your cheek.

Surprise flickered across your face before you smiled sincerely at him, bright-eyed as you snagged a lollipop out of the jar and offered him one.

"I didn't know you had any tattoos," You said as he pulled the wrapper off and popped it in his mouth.

"Do now," He grinned, pointing at the bandage proudly. "Didn't know you worked here."

"Yeah," You awkwardly smiled. It wasn't forced, still friendly as you studied his face. Lips parting like you were about to add something before he interrupted.

"You know him?" Sukuna snarled, terse and tense, folding his arms across his chest.

"We go to the same school," You spoke quietly, all that chirpiness fading from your voice and getting replaced with stress.

Your answer only seemed to piss Sukuna off more. Who, Suguru noted, was doing a shitty fucking job of mitigating your apprehension, not even trying to soothe you before he snapped back, "Was he there when-"

"He was the one who gave me his clothes," You muttered under your breath, embarrassed. You told him what happened.

Shame slithered back in.

Because he could condemn Sukuna all he wanted, but Suguru knew it was still his fault for failing you at the first party. That if he hadn't fucked it up then - maybe you wouldn't be looking at Sukuna here the way you had looked at him that day in the library.

Scared and starstruck and hopeful for something Suguru wanted to be the one to give you.

Sukuna backed down at the knowledge Gojo had helped you out, his scowl replaced by begrudging acceptance.

"You can give him the discount," Sukuna grunted.

You glanced up at him, all appreciative and gentle, absentmindedly leaning a little closer to the broad man by your side just for his hand to drift around your waist and squeeze when he bent over and whispered something in your ear.

Suguru hated it. Hated Sukuna. Hated himself.

Hearing you giggle and seeing the glimmer in your eyes when you pulled away. Rolling your eyes at him and not meaning it when the rest of your face was still gentle.

The girl he used to think was spoiled and stuck up standing in front of him crushing on a college dropout with thirty tattoos and a nicotine addiction while he'd give anything for you to want him instead.

"I'm paying for mine and his," Gojo added, deliberately interrupting the thick tension as he pointed back at him. "Do I still get the discount?"

"Yeah, sure," Sukuna grunted, like he didn't care less what happened if you were smiling at him.

But then you turned around.

Saw him sitting there, ink settling into his sore skin and a serious scowl he couldn't help set in his features.

Your hand slowly raised up in a small wave, your breath hitching in your throat.

He felt like a goddamn moron waving back at you.

"Is he one of your other friends?" Sukuna asked, and Suguru couldn't decide who was more annoyed at the idea of that.

But you just nodded, even if it was stiff, your voice quiet when you spoke up, "Yeah."

Your eyes had shifted back to Suguru though, like you thought he might contradict you.

He'd be lying if he said he didn't want to.

Suguru wanted to insist that you were more, but that wasn't true. Wasn't real.

Sukuna didn't ask anything else, just walked back over to Suguru, prepping again to put the finishing touches on the tattoo like today hadn't left it tainted.

Permanently marked with the reminder you might be falling for someone else.

"How well do you know her?" Sukuna grumbled right as the needle pierced through his skin again.

"She doesn't say much about herself," Suguru muttered, if only to find out what he knew.

Sukuna chuckled, dark and dry. "Yeah."

"Didn't think she needed a job though," Suguru commented, keeping his voice low enough that you wouldn't hear.

"She's only at college on a scholarship," Sukuna informed him, more defensive of you than Suguru expected.

Suguru watched his reflection frown. Another sore spot of his pride being poked. Another reason he'd spent so long avoiding you. You'd managed to get the scholarship he was aiming for, not that you knew, forcing him to find another one to cover his costs at the last minute, although it wasn't quite the same amount. He'd had to get a shitty part time job in the meantime to help keep him afloat before.

"Her family's rich," Suguru replied.

"Yeah, but they didn't want her to go," Sukuna scoffed back at him, irritation creeping in.

Now that was new.

How much was there to you he didn't know? That he'd been blind to?

"That's shitty," Suguru exhaled under his breath, wincing at the next prick.

He pretended not to feel your stare on his back. Were you wondering what they were talking about? Did you think it was about you?

What he did know about you told him you'd probably be in denial about that too.

Gojo was busy chatting your ear off, inviting you to other parties and out for lunches next week, trying to set up study times (that he'd bail on and send Suguru as a replacement), a sneaky smirk on his face when you finally agreed to one.

"Done."

"Thanks," Suguru muttered like he didn't feel sick.

And when he glanced back, you were already watching. Your face flushing with embarrassment at him noticing you staring at the broad muscles of his back while Sukuna carefully put the bandage over it.

You turned away before your boss could catch you though.

Suguru pulled two twenties out of his wallet and tipped him anyway.

"I'll see you guys later," You murmured, not meeting his gaze even after he pulled his shirt back on and walked over.

Gojo had just left. A car he called waiting to pick him up inside, probably thinking Suguru would somehow end up leaving with you.

"Can I talk to you?" Suguru heard himself ask, ignoring the heated glare he didn't need to look to know he was receiving from the man who probably would never want to give him another tattoo if he knew that Suguru tasted you first.

"Do you need any help in here?" You still glanced over your shoulder to ask Sukuna first though.

"Nah, you're not on the clock anyway." Sukuna wasn't exactly happy when he said it though.

And Suguru couldn't shake the feeling that he'd do something stupid later to pull you back to him. Stake his claim on you. Stamp his mark.

"Sure, um, okay," You nodded hesitantly, and Suguru held out a hand to help you hop off the stool. You tentatively took it, eyeing him like you didn't understand why he offered it when if it was entirely up to him, he'd carry you outside and into the backseat of his car to show you how he'd been feeling.

But he didn't want to be the scummy guy who made you think weren't worth the world. That it was just about backseats and backrooms where no one else saw the two of you.

"What's up?" You asked.

"You look gorgeous," He answered honestly. Not what he meant to say, but he meant it anyway. "You usually do, but-"

You giggled, and some of the heaviness lifted.

"You don't have to say stuff like that when it's just us," You reminded him, and he recognized the hint of resignation you seemed to default to.

"I know," He breathed. "I'm saying it because it's true."

"Well, you shouldn't," You blushed. "You might make me believe you."

"I wish you would," Suguru soberly said, watching the way your brows knitted together and then fell flat.

"You don't like me," You pointed it out like you were stating a fact.

"I shouldn't have said that." His attempt to sound confident was falling apart within seconds, his throat closing up just from you frowning at him, lips pushed together in a pout that hurt him to see. "Look, I really do have something important to talk to you about."

There was actually a lot he wanted to talk to you about. A meal wouldn't be enough. He wanted your day, your week, your month, your year. However long it took to know all the stuff that he missed.

"Can it wait?" You asked, shuffling uncomfortably.

He stepped closer, but you backed up.

"Just hear me out," He started, only to stop when he realized how unsteady your breathing was.

"Is it about Sukuna?" You chewed on your lip, glancing up at him then looking away just as fast, as if even that second was too long.

"No," Suguru answered, but it sounded unconvincing even to him.

Any annoyance he had was traded for concern when he noticed your nails digging into your own palm, how fast your chest was rising and falling, like you were on the verge of a panic attack.

"Baby," He soothed, trying one more step forward, but you were retreating back. A skittish stray who wasn't sure whose hands were there to soothe and whose would hit.

"It's something bad though, right?" You swallowed hard, choking on whatever you were scared of.

He didn't know how to answer that one.

"I just want to have a good time tonight, okay?" Your voice was closer to a whisper, cracking on the last word. "Can we talk about it tomorrow? Please?"

How was he supposed to say no to you?

"Sure," Suguru reluctantly agreed, regretting it before he finished saying it. "Just be safe tonight. You know you can call me if-"

"You don't have to worry about me," You murmured, arms folded across your chest and studying your heels on the cracked pavement when you cut him off. "It's not like I'll be taking my clothes off this time."

Not if Sukuna had anything to say about it.

patreon is here with additional original content for anyone who feels like supporting me a little extra :3

reblogs n comments are super appreciated <3 love hearing your thoughts as always !!

[eirasera]

— Act like you love me , Celebrity!au

Summary. After a messy tabloid scandal damages his public image, Gojo Satoru — a globally famous actor and model known for his flirtatious persona and chaotic interviews — is forced by his management team to enter a fake relationship to rehab his image.

You, a normal set assistant with no social media presence, are chosen as the “mystery partner” because you saved him from a falling light rig during a photoshoot and went viral for it. You want nothing to do with him, but the payout for faking this relationship for six months could change you and your family's life.

— pairing. celebrity Gojo Satoru x f!reader

— content/tags. fake dating trope , eventual smut , eventual angst , celebrity au

— info. to join the taglist for the upcoming chapters comment under this post.

art by @/_3aem on twt

— ACT I: Lights, Camera, Fake it.

— ACT II: [soon..]

[yenayaps]

Not Just Anybody | baby daddy!sukuna x f!reader

summary: on the rare occasion that sukuna takes his nephew out to the park, he notices another kid with blush pink hair— a baby to be exact. he tries not to stare too much, but it’s hard not to, it’s a rare hair color. it’s not until the baby’s mother takes her out of the swing set and back into her stroller when he realizes why you ghosted him almost 2 years ago.

genre/warnings: hidden child trope, ex-fwb to co-parents to lovers, angst (toxic relationships, fighting), fluff, smut, mood board

notes: im very excited to announce this upcoming one-shot as a part of @indiewritesxoxo friday night flicks event! the release date is still tba and im limiting the tag list to 50, but i’ll definitely be giving updates throughout the writing process ❤️

taglist is now closed

part one

part two

part three

part four

part five

part six deep dives 1-6

part seven

part eight

part nine

All rights reserved © 2025 yenayaps. Do not copy, repost, translate, or modify my works in any platform.

[yenayaps]

ceaseless chapter three sneak peek!!!!

“That bastard made us lose 3 customers already,” she hisses, pulling the sheets off you, “the first two turned around after seeing him and he told the third to get out— get up.”

“What bastard?” you mumble back, rubbing the sleep off your eyes. 

“Your bastard,” she snaps, slamming her hands on the bed. “Now get ready, I can’t have him turn away any more customers.”

Another 30 minutes roll by before you finally make your way down the stairs. You didn’t put much effort into your appearance, your main focus was bathing and throwing your hair up in a somewhat put together style. As for your clothes, your dress was more simple, allowing the robe you threw on to make the outfit look complete. 

Sukuna’s been in the same spot he’s sat in all morning, the Madam’s yelling at him over something. You almost don’t want to walk into the waiting area just yet, only so you could continue to listen to them bickering, but then you remember the sooner the hour starts, the sooner it ends. 

“This is robbery,” Sukuna boyishly complains. 

“Says the one that cost me five fucking customers so far,” she argues with her hand still out, “now pay up.”

He gives up on arguing with her when you finally come into view, but it doesn’t stop him from mumbling something under his breath as he grudgingly sticks his hand into his pocket. You’re waiting to lead him down one of the halls by the time he drops enough silver into the woman's hands. 

All she does is laugh to herself when she receives the payment, there’s nothing in the world that makes her as happy as money does. She’s so focused on the silver that she doesn’t even realize you’re there, or that Sukuna’s already walking towards you.

“Thief,” he looks over his shoulder and says as he follows you down the hall. 

“You two have fun,” she says rather sweetly, a complete 180 from how she was acting just minutes ago. 

“Greedy old hag,” he murmurs. She can’t hear him, but you can and you find yourself struggling to stay serious from how hurt he sounds. Who knew the general had such a side to him. 

You continue to lead him down the hallways in silence, unsure what to even say, too tired to come up with something. His presence is as imposing as ever, you can feel his eyes locked on you, his footsteps loudly following behind you. 

“Sit wherever,” you say, opening the door for him. 

“Yes ma’am,” he says, looking more than satisfied with the space. It was one of the smaller rooms in the house, one specifically meant for services like this— some tea and a quick chat. 

“Have you eaten?”

All rights reserved © 2025 yenayaps. Do not copy, repost, translate, or modify my works in any platform

[letstalkaboutfandomsbaby]

Can't stop thinking about fertility goddess fat reader having a whole cult for herself, all the guys adore her, they all want a kiss, a look, anything, please!!! They love her! They adore her!!! Just a kiss!!

A fat fertility goddess... it's so obvious...

Wide hips, bountiful breasts, a round belly with thick thighs and soft arms. You're truly a sight to behold. You do your duty, blessing those who pray for a child, cursing those who speak ill of you, though those are few are far between. You are beautiful and wise and above all kind. You truly are a goddess.

When you first came to be, you had a small following, mostly women who struggled with fertility and couples who had been trying for a child for years. You were worshipped by few, small shrines set up in houses that often went away after a child was born. You were fine with it, your love for your followers never faltered, you didn't expect much.

And then a group emerged that you did not expect.

A group of men has emerged that has built a temple for you in their village, adorning it with fruits and flowers, sweet oils for your skin and hair, lovely clothes to make into fine robes. You've never received such gifts before, so you are beyond grateful, but you are confused. You assume the men worship you to bless their wives with children, but none of them are married or seem interested in any of the women that live in their town. You wonder what their intentions could be, so late one night, you present yourself to a burly man praying at your temple.

"What do you want of me, good sir?" you ask, leaning down to his kneeling form. "Do you wish for more crops? Or perhaps wealth? If I cannot give you something, I may direct you to another god who may help you."

"My lady," he presses his head to the stone below, "I only ask for your love, if you are willing to give it."

You blink.

"You... oh, wait, you wish for me to find love for you, yes? There are many a pretty young women in your village, it is true. I may appear to them in a dream and tempt them to—"

"No, my lady, you misunderstand." He looks up at you, eyes sparkling. "I wish for your love."

"... What?"

"If not your love, may I simply have a kiss from you?"

"I... I do not understand."

"You are a vision, my goddess," he breathes, hesitantly touching your calf. "You are much lovelier than the legends say. You are the moon and the stars, so beautiful. You must taste so sweet. I wish to experience it, even just once. Please, my goddess, I will give you more gifts if you wish. I will prove myself to be worthy of you, I swear on my life."

You blink several times, clearing your throat and standing up straight.

"Your worship is suffice. I shall grant you a kiss on the cheek for all of your gifts."

He stands quickly, very excited, and you are shocked to see that at full height he towers over you. He leans down, presenting his cheek to you. You hesitate, but then lean forward, pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek. He sighs longingly when you pull away, putting his hand to his cheek.

"Your lips are so soft, my lady." He looks to you. "May I give you a kiss as well?"

You think for a moment before you nod, turning to show him your cheek. He leans close, pressing a kiss to your cheek, lingering there for a moment or two before pulling away. He bows low.

"Thank you, my lady. I shall bring some fresh fruit tomorrow."

The next day, you see him enter your temple with several men, all of them carrying fresh fruit for you. As they delicately lay them down at your altar, you hear them speaking.

"Did the goddess truly kiss you?"

"Yes, she did."

"And you were able to kiss her in return?"

"I did."

"You are quite lucky, sir, to even see her in the flesh. I would do anything for a glimpse of her."

"She is much more beautiful than the legends. Silky hair, smooth skin, plump and full. I wish I could have felt her skin against mine."

"I wonder how soft she is, so sweet and smooth. Do you think she would lay with us if we asked?"

"She is far too regal for such a thing... but perhaps if we give more of our crop, she would bless us with more kisses."

Your skin is burning. You don't know if you've ever felt such a way before.

[princesslai]

Sunshine created this in her BRAINNN UGHSMDKDN SO GOOD. I love this.

[indiewritesxoxo]

lust, longing, and other things

call me cupid

helpless. hopeless. horny. honestly, you should just stamp never been laid on his forehead, but no, it's up to you to fix him

synopsis: matchmaking was your calling. what wasn't there to love about love? never, in all the couples you created, had you ever failed. choso's about to change that.

pairing: virgin!Choso x cupid!Reader

content: mdni, angst and smut, modern au where cupids work for a matchmaking corporation, fem reader, inexperienced choso, loss of virginity, fingering, piv sex, yearning, jealousy, he wants us BAD, falling in love

choso art by @hunnismokah

Unlike some people, you actually liked your job.

There was a certain magic to it, matching people together and watching them fall for each other, the love lingering in the air thick enough you could practically taste it.

Some clients were harder than others, sure, but they usually just needed a little help. None had ever made you second guess your position in this profession.

Until him.

His pale hands nervously wrapped around a cup of coffee, knee bouncing as he looked everywhere except you.

"Um, Choso, right?" You smiled, sweet and polite as you took a sip of your hot chocolate.

"What?" He grunted. Grunted.

His voice was like gravel, low and rough and rigid. Thick brows scrunched together as he looked out the window. Counting birds or staring at passing strangers. You didn't know.

"I'm just here to help you," You chirped. You'd been through the practiced welcome speech twice already and it still hadn't seemed to set in. He'd barely even cracked his front door open to speak to you, only willing to join you at a nearby coffee shop after you slipped him your business card and told him you spoke with his brother.

"Why?" He grumbled.

You struggled not to sigh, to keep your smile in place as you slid over the form his younger brother had filled out begging you to set his brother up.

"Yuji thinks you could use a girlfriend. Or boyfriend, you know whatever you-"

"Girlfriend," He muttered under his breath.

Well, at least you were getting somewhere.

"Okay, well, your brother requested we help you out. And I was assigned to your case," You explained. He reluctantly picked up the paper, frowning at his sibling's handwriting before sighing himself.

"Fine."

You relaxed, shoulders slumping as your smile turned genuine, relieved you wouldn't have to mark his file as a failure.

"Great," You beamed. "So, I spoke to your brother on the phone, and he said you didn't have a lot of experience, but-"

"None," He interrupted you, the thick tattoo across his nose wrinkling as he scrunched it up.

"Excuse me?" You questioned, tilting your head to the side in confusion.

"I don't have any," He curtly said, meeting your stare for the first time since he sat down. His eyes were dark, and you couldn't tell where the pupils started or the irises ended, but they were still just as sharp as the rest of him, threatening to burn a hole through you.

"Like you've never had a real girlfriend before, or-?" You trailed off this time, blinking at him like it'd make it more believable that the ridiculously hot guy in front of you somehow had no experience with women.

"Like anything," Choso repeated, cheeks heating up before he looked away again.

"Well, I mean, what's the furthest you've gone?" That was probably unprofessional, but the question slipped out before you could stop it, more curious than you should be.

"I held hands with a girl once when I was fourteen," He answered.

"Well, um, let's change that, alright?" You tried to cheer him up, reaching across the table to squeeze his hand to reassure him.

You'd set up virgins before.

But a guy that had never been kissed?

It was painful.

Maybe if you cared less, it'd be easier. Just a matter of pulling out your arrows and picking someone pretty out to complement him.

But this was his life. He'd be living with the decision you made - unless he wanted to pay a premium fee to unmatch him from whoever you paired him with. But so far, none of your couples had done that yet.

You would be damned if he was the first.

Even if it meant you had to be his first.

"Put your other hand on my waist," You instructed him, leaning in closer, your chest pressed against his, a pretty blush dusting his pale cheeks as his palm settled on your side. "Good."

For the past few weeks, you'd been setting him up on date after date, taking notes and offering pointers afterwards, debriefing just for him to nod along and never give a real opinion.

You were trying to gauge his interests, figure out what kind of woman he was looking for.

The problem was glaringly obvious - Choso seemed to not have any preferences.

Unable to tell you what he liked or disliked about each one, only declining second dates. He hadn't even kissed a single one of them.

Choso was a catch. Maybe he was a little scary looking at first, scowling and serious, but he was soft, smart, the kind of considerate most girls would kill for. A family man too.

You cornered him about it back at his apartment after another failed date, asking what his deal with, frowning when he admitted that he was nervous about being a virgin.

So you did what anyone would do in your shoes! Offer your services!

"Like this?" He murmured, craning his neck down so his nose brushed against yours, close enough your lips were almost touching.

"Mhm," You nodded, breath catching in your throat as your eyes drifted down to the soft pink of those lips. "You sure about this?"

You guessed he was judging by how hard his mouth crashed into yours.

A little clumsy, taking a couple seconds to adjust, to copy your movements, but pretty quickly getting the hang of it.

You would have to add fast learner to his resumé.

Especially when two seconds later, his hand was holding you in place, stronger than you expected, palm pressing flat and hard on your spine. His tongue pushing in to trace your teeth, to explore your mouth.

You started to pull away just to breathe, but his lips made their way down to your jaw instead, lingering on your skin.

"Should I stop?" He muttered, and you had no clue if he meant to be seductive, or if it was all natural. The husk in his voice and the heat in his hands.

"U-up to you," You stuttered, surprising yourself.

"And if I want to keep going?" He asked, although it sounded more like a dare when his mouth was ghosting over your throat, pressing a tender peck to your collarbone as the hand on your back drifted lower until he was slipping underneath the hem of your dress.

"We can go as far as you want to," You reassured him, purring into him when his sturdy fingers found the band of your panties, pulling it back just to let it snap against your skin.

There wasn't much you hadn't done truthfully.

All in the name of being the best agent of love you could be, of course.

But this felt different, something you couldn't quite pinpoint when he suddenly picked you up and tossed you onto his partially made bed.

The dark comforter crinkling underneath your body, dress riding up your thighs as his hands tugged your panties down.

"Talk me through it."

For someone who swore he'd never touched a woman, Choso somehow knew exactly what to say to make your stomach flip. Fingers dipping into your skin as he spread your thighs, hesitating at the sight of you glistening for him already.

"If you, um, put your fingers in-"

He laughed, abrupt but soft, the sound strange coming from his mouth, but oddly comforting all the same.

"I meant tell me what you like," Choso chuckled, and you blushed.

"Oh," You breathed.

And then his fingers were slipping in, slow and steady. There was nothing unsure about it, no nerves slipping through. Your lips stayed parted, chest stuck rising as he pushed in deeper, an crooked smile spreading across his own mouth watching you start to squirm around his thick digits.

He took his time, exploring you like you were something special, watching every flicker of your face and change in your expression. A pretty look glinting in his dark eyes when he crooked his fingers and you moaned for him.

"There?" He asked, amusement sneaking into his gravelly voice.

You barely managed a nod, pressure building in your stomach when his fingertips tested the sweet spot, pressing back into it while you sucked in a harsh breath. "Mm, mhm."

He chuckled a little when he slotted another finger in to help stretch you out and you made a strangled noise you didn't even know you were capable of.

"T-there," You stammered, letting your head rest back on the pillow when he pushed back in, sliding in-and-out with a filthy squelch, the metal of his rings just adding to the intensity.

It was only then that you realized there wasn't anything for you to fix.

He'd have been just fucking fine without your help if he could finger you stupid first try.

His clothing rustled, his fingers sliding back out with a lewd pop! before he was peeling his shirt off.

And you rarely thought this about anyone, let alone a human, but he really was beautiful. His skin was smooth, carefully carved muscles tapering down to the sharp v of his hips, his dark happy trail standing out against his pale complexion.

Choso noticed you staring, a low laugh escaping his throat, and you felt that flutter in your stomach again, your body betraying you for him.

You sat up, nimble fingers working to undo his button and tug down his zipper, admiring him more than you should admit when he had to stand and pull his pants and boxers down.

His cock sprang up, longer than you expected, pre-cum leaking and smudged around his top. Hesitantly, you reached out, brushing your thumb over his slit just to watch his jaw clench, muscles going taut at the slightest touch.

"Sensitive?" You teased, lips curling up in a smile as he threw you an annoyed look, unable to answer when you dragged your thumb across the collect the pre-cum there.

Brining it to your mouth to taste, struggling to keep your face smug when the lump in his throat was bobbing so hard while you made a show of licking it clean.

You hadn't even fully pulled it out before you were being pinned to the bed underneath him.

Wrists caught between his heavy grip, pressed into the pillow overhead, his lips suddenly attached to your throat and leaving hickies everywhere he could. Cock grinding against your clit, clumsy and desperate, practically rutting against you before he was even inside you. Making out and jumping like teenagers at a party.

"Ch-Cho-" You gasped, wiggling a wrist free to grab a handful of his hair and tug to get him to look at you.

"Too much?" He breathed, brows furrowed in concern like his cock wasn't still throbbing between your bodies.

"Not enough," You murmured, leaning up to press a kiss against the corner of his lips.

It turned out he was a good listener too.

He only paused to put a condom on, struggling at first to slip it over the tip before he tugged it in the rest of the way.

Your hips hooked over his waist, fingers dimpling your skin as he pounded you into the mattress, murmuring to ask if you wanted more in your ear while he found a steady rhythm.

"That's it," You hummed, fingers combing through his hair as he groaned and sank in deeper.

"You have to tell me if I suck," Choso warned, surprisingly serious as his sharp focus zeroed in on your face.

You giggled, and he throbbed inside you, still buried to the hilt as he grimaced, clearly struggling to stop himself from cumming already.

"You don't suck," You reassured him, reaching up to trace all the sharp lines of his face.

He nodded, barely a short bob of his head, staring at your lips like he wanted to suck on those instead.

"Cho," You murmured his name, enjoying the way it felt like he melted into your body, your touch, your breath. "You can kiss me."

Each one was better than the last.

Longer and rougher, getting more comfortable with every single second he was connected to yours, swallowing your moans with needier ones of his own. Picking up the pace out of need, probably leaving indents of your bodies into his bed, smothering you with more affection than you ever expected.

It'd been a while since you'd slept with someone so concentrated on you. How he watched your body, studied your reactions and responded in kind, even when he was kissing you, even when he was busy burying his cock deep enough his top was grinding into your cervix.

You were close, thighs starting to tremble, breathing getting strained as the pressure mounted higher, burned hotter.

Unsure, one of his hands slipped down, dancing anxiously over your clit and testing how quickly you twitched against his touch.

"Wanna make you cum first," He grunted when he hesitantly pulled away, clearly chewing on the inside of his cheek.

"You don't need my permission," You tried to laugh, but you were pretty sure he could hear your voice shaking a little when the rough pad of his thumb dragged over the bud again.

"I want you to want me to," He frowned, his nose brushing back against yours.

"I want you," You reassured him, the earnestness in it genuine.

Choso was barely holding on to the tethers of his restraint. Hearing the words leave your lips only made him fuck you harder, your nails sinking into his shoulders to hold on while he suddenly started rubbing harsh circles over your clit like he needed this more than you did.

Which might've been true considering he came the second after you did, spurred on by the way your face scrunched up in pleasure, swallowing your moan of his name with another heated kiss.

His head dropping down against your collarbone, sweat sticking his forehead to your skin as he sighed.

You didn't move. Let him lay there, trying not to think about the fact you'd just taken his virginity and he fucked you better than half the guys you'd been with before.

"Is-" He paused, sucking in a sharp breath. "Is it always that good?"

"Sometimes. It's better when you're in love with someone," You murmured, wrapping a loose strand of his dark hair around your fingers, watching the way it soaked up the light through his window.

"Oh," He muttered back, his body settling over yours, heavy as he exhaled.

"Yeah," You swallowed hard.

It was a little awkward. The smell of sex hung in the air, the dull hum of his air conditioning running in the background, the setting sun outside casting long shadows across the room.

"Sleep with me tonight," Choso finally said. Whether it was a request or a demand didn't matter much, you guessed. You knew you were going to comply before your lips even parted.

You still blinked, more flustered than made sense.

Sleeping with him shouldn't feel so intimate, but he readjusted, rolling over and dragging your still pliable body on top of him, running his fingers through your hair with your face pressed against his chest.

"You were great," You admitted, only able to say it when you weren't looking directly at him.

"Promise?" He sighed softly.

"Yeah," You nodded.

It was a weak attempt to remind yourself that this was all apart of your job.

This was supposed to be about teaching him.

But under the weight of his body, with the warm scent of his cologne wrapping around you like a blanket, you couldn't help but indulge yourself.

A few minutes wouldn't hurt.

Or maybe a night.

You just hadn't meant to sleep with him until the morning.

Something was touching your wings when you woke up.

You almost jumped, panicking as you tried to crawl out of bed and a heavy hand held you there, only relaxing when Choso's thick morning voice whispered in your ear, "Where are you going, angel?"

"Sorry, you weren't supposed to, um, see-" You stammered, heat flooding your face as his other hand trailed over the edge of your feathers, sending a shiver down your spine as his fingers ghosted over an embarrassingly sensitive spot.

You preferred to never let your clients see what you actually looked like. It wasn't that you were ashamed. The wings were cute, you guessed, pretty standard for a cupid. But you liked walking with them, blending in with the whole human disguise.

"It's pretty," He muttered sleepily, oblivious to the heat he was stoking back in your stomach. "You're pretty."

His casual sincerity felt more like a stab when he was on a date with another woman the next day. And the one after that.

Sure, you set it up, but still.

Watching him offer small smiles and open doors for gorgeous girls, sipping coffee across the table or going on walks in the park, listening to them with the same attentive ears that had been tuned into your moans not that long ago.

You rejected your jealousy.

But when he returned to you at the end with a shake of his head and an apologetic shrug just to end up pulling you back in his bed for more hands-on experience, you couldn't help but be soothed by his smooth hands and sweet kisses.

Letting the next couple weeks slip by in a haze of failed dates and late-night fucks.

Until her.

A pretty blonde reaching a manicured hand out to push his bangs back and study his face. Stuck at a table across the street when he let her.

You felt a pang inside your chest watching him laugh at something she said, leaning in and brushing a crumb off of her cheek.

There was the kind of crinkle by her eyes you'd seen a thousand times before. A crush turning into a spark, the seed blooming as his thumb dragged over her lip.

He would choose her.

And your job would be done once their date was.

You frowned to yourself, pulling your knees to your chest and ordering a second dessert while you waited, ignoring the voice in your head telling you to look over at them.

This used to be your favorite part.

The moment two people became more. Not strangers or friends, but something exciting and electric.

You should be happy. Attempted to convince yourself that you were. But it was bittersweet to think this would be the last time you saw him.

Sometimes you'd check on other couples you set up, but this wouldn't be one of them. Couldn't be.

"Hey."

You almost fell out of your seat, startled as you glanced over your shoulder behind you.

Choso was awkwardly standing there, hands shoved in his pockets. Staring at you like he had something to say and didn't know how to.

"It's her, isn't it?" You plastered your best smile on, told yourself that he deserved this, dusting your dress off and standing up.

His date was standing outside the restaurant, giggling on the phone with someone, probably calling one of her friends to say she met a guy and blah blah blah.

Choso hesitated, but you were already stepping out into the closest alley, swapping your disguise out, wings fluttering as you picked a pretty pink arrow from your sheath, starting to notch it before he blocked your shot.

"Wait," He swallowed hard, the lump in his throat bobbing.

"What?" You hesitated, relaxing the string.

"I don't want her," Choso spat it out. His face was pale, eyes uncertain as those dark brows met in the middle, a deep crease between them.

You froze.

"But I thought-" You paused, dropping the bow down entirely. "Weren't you having fun?"

"She's not you."

He shouldn't have said it.

You shouldn't want him to.

But you stood still, letting the words sink in and snap the stitches carefully holding your feelings in place.

All the heavy tension shifted between you, all the words still not spoken hanging there. It was wrong. This was wrong.

"I love my job," You murmured, not entirely positive if you were saying it to him or yourself.

"I know," Choso replied, and the warm understanding on his face pierced through you more than an arrow ever could.

"I can't leave it," You added, breath hitching painfully.

"I know," He repeated, stepping closer.

You wished you could bring yourself to step back, to put the distance between you before the two of you could cross the line between client and matchmaker in a way you wouldn't be able to repair.

He read your reluctance the same way he read your soul, with the type of easy acceptance you didn't want to reject anymore.

"I'd choose a couple days with you over a lifetime with someone else," He spoke quietly, but he was sure. Jaw set and lips pressed together in a hard line, those dark eyes begging you to believe him.

"I can't ask you to wait for me," You whispered. Even if you wanted to.

"You don't have to ask," He admitted. "I'll wait anyway."

And wasn't his stubbornness the reason you were even here?

He wasn't the kind of man who'd budge once his mind was made.

"If you find someone else-"

"I won't," He promised before you could even finish. "I'm yours."

You'd never realized how badly you wanted to hear those words before.

HR might have a fit about you using your time off to come visit your human boyfriend but technically, you weren't breaking any rules since you hadn't used any of your arrows on him yet.

The alternative was spending eternity wondering what if you had said yes to Choso. Would search for his face in every crowd and wish you hadn't left him standing here. Regretting loving him would be easier than regretting leaving him.

You swallowed your pride, taking a shaky step forward to caress his cheek, fingertips brushing over the line of his tattoo, the hard ridge of his nose. Leaning in to ghost your lips over his, taste the hint of wine still lingering there, the sweetness he saved just for you.

"I'm yours."

[princesslai]

With your permission, I’d like to give ur brain a little smooch 😔

[yenayaps]

ceaseless

Pairing: warlord!sukuna x courtesan!reader

Synopsis: A lot can be said about Sukuna. He’s a true warrior. Beastly. A man fully capable of overthrowing the current regime if he wanted, but chooses not to because he’s lazy. He’s also irritatingly persistent, that much is known with how many times he’s come into the brothel demanding your presence rather than going with all the other courtesans he’s been offered… for free, thanks to the power and status that comes with his name.

It's been years now. You can’t hide from him forever, especially not when your mother, the Madame herself, is starting to grow tired of turning him down.

Cw: explicit smut, profanity, alcohol and tobacco use, historical au, loosely inspired by apothecary diaries and demon slayer, sukuna's a menace, the emperor's afraid of him, readers an oiran (highest rank)

chapter one

chapter two

notes: lol nvm about the hiatus thing, off we go to delulu land

All rights reserved © 2025 yenayaps. Do not copy, repost, translate, or modify my works in any platform

[letstalkaboutfandomsbaby]

Wait

Will chubby goddess reader have the chance to lay with a god, then?

Kind of an Ares - Aphrodite situation

Oooooo a god of war and strength and courage, he's such a masculine man, strong and brave, giving blessings to leaders and armies before they go to war, inspiring young men to grow their own strength.

And of course he is oh so fond of the sweet chubby fertility goddess, i.e. you.

You're just such a contrast to him. Where he is chiseled and muscular, you are round and soft. Where he is gruff and cruel, you are sweet and kind. It is no wonder that the moment he saw you, he had eyes only for you.

He is devoted to his craft, but he always looks for time with you when you are in the heavens. He finds you in your realm, surrounded by flourishing flowers and crops, rubbing your gifted oils over your skin, making you shimmer and shine.

"What are you doing here, Argo?" you ask when you see him. He shrugs, acting nonchalant as he leans against an orange tree.

"Just checking on you." You scoff, dripping some oil into your hand and running it through your hair.

"You check on me so often. Are you lonely, even amongst all your soldiers?"

"Perhaps I crave a woman's presence instead of a man's."

You hum, grabbing your brush, starting at the ends of your hair to dispurse the oil thoroughly. He moves closer to your chaise lounge, resting his foot atop it and leaning his elbow on his knee, curling down towards you.

"What do you need, sir?" you ask, batting your eyes.

"Nothing," he says, but he reaches for a piece of your hair and lifts it to his nose, taking a small whiff of the perfumed oil. "Tis a pleasant odor."

"Isn't it? My followers gifted it to me."

"It suits you well." You smile.

"Thank you."

He cups your chin with his hand, turning your head towards him. You pause your brushing to look up at him, so soft and sweet. How could a fertility goddess look so innocent?

"Argo?" you ask, blinking up at him. He huffs, guiding you closer to him, your lips growing nearer.

Suddenly, you hear your name being called, and you pull away, standing.

"Y/N—"

"I'm sorry, Argo. One of my followers calls for me."

He tries to stop you, to grab your arm, to pull you to his chest and keep you there for all eternity—

In a flash, you are gone.

[nanamisgirly]

Am I, not a good dad? ྀི

“I want mama!” your son screams, tears filling up his eyes—the same color as Nanami’s.

And speaking of Nanami…he feels helpless.

The boy won’t stop crying, won’t stop calling for you. His little face is red and scrunched up, his cheeks wet, chest heaving with each shaky breath. You’d told him you’d be gone for a few hours—explained it gently, with a kiss to his forehead and a promise that Papa would take care of everything. But none of it seemed to matter.

You’re gone and his world feels like it’s ended.

“Please, baby…Mum will be back any time soon.” Nanami spares a glance at the clock, in thirty minutes you’d be here. “Should we finish your meal in the meantime, mh?” He tries, voice tight, panic folding over his usual calm.

But your son only screams louder, fists pounding the highchair tray, tears flowing freely.

It’s been hours, and Nanami has come to the conclusion that : he doesn’t want me.

He stares at his son’s red, tear-slicked face. There’s no hatred in it, just unfiltered, helpless longing.

“I want Mamaaaaaa!!” Nanami flinches. Exactly, the toddler is longing for you.

The little boy’s small chest rises and falls in erratic sobs, hiccupping on the edge of breathlessness.

Nanami exhales slowly through his nose. You can do this, he tells himself. You’re his father. You can do this.

So, he tries.

He pulls out the little wooden train you carved together one weekend. Places it on the floor. “Do you want to show Papa how fast it goes again?” he asks, voice as gentle as possible.

No response.

He tries the animal book—the one with flaps and texture that always make him giggle. “Tell Papa where’s the lion. Can you find the lion for me?”

Nothing.

Just a heartbreaking, hoarse little “Mama…”

Nanami even tries to put on the cartoon with the talking blue bear. The one your son usually dances to.

As nothing seems to work, Kento feels his heart breaking inch by inch. He picks him up despite the flailing little arms, holds him against his chest, firm but not tight, like you’ve toche him.

His son won’t stop. Not even a little. The screams turn into an open-mouthed wail, the kind that turns cheeks purple and voices raw for hours. 

Nanami’s hands tremble slightly. He sits down on the floor with the boy in his lap, gently cradling him, head bowed. He’s never felt this powerless.

Not during cursed missions, not under pressure—but here, in his own home, with his child breaking apart in his arms… He feels not enough.

Not soft enough. Not warm enough. Not you.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers into the crown of his son’s head. “I’m trying. Papa’s trying so hard.”                 

And that’s when the front door creaks open. “I’m home!”

And just like that, your son’s head snaps up from where he’s been sobbing into Nanami’s lap. Your husband doesn’t even have the time to rise to his feet that the boy is squirming violently in his arms, “mama! Mama! MAMA!!” Nanami lets him go without resistance. He stands slowly as your son flings himself into your arms when you appear in the doorway.

Concern is written all over your face. “I’m here, baby. I’m here…”  you look up and see Nanami standing a few feet away, shoulders sagging, eyes tired behind his glasses.

“he’s been crying for hours,” he says softly. “didn’t want anything from me. Wouldn’t eat. Wouldn’t play.”

You nod as your rubs your son’s back. “I’m sorry. He’s just been going through this clingy phase.” 

“I know.” Nanami offers a tired smile, though it doesn’t reach his eyes. “it’s okay.”

Later, after dinner and a bath your son is finally asleep, curled on your side of the shared bed, clutching one of your shirts tightly, your sent comforting him.

Nanami stands in the doorway, arms crosses, watching the soft rise and fall of your kid. You come up behind him, circling his waist with your arms, letting your cheek rest on his strong back.

One of his hands intertwin with yours. “He wouldn’t even let me hold him,” he says, barely above a whisper. “I’ve never felt that…useless before.”

“Kento…”

“I know he’s still small. I know it’s not personal. But…” he pauses, swallowing hard. “I tried everything. Toys, books, food, music. He didn’t want any of it. It felt like…like…I wasn’t enough. I wasn’t…probably am, not a good dad.”

Your heart twists at the words. “Can you please turn to face me, love?”

He lets out a deep exhale, like the breath hurts to let go, and turns. When his eyes meet yours, you feel like the weight of the whole world just collapsed onto your chest. 

Nanami is silently crying.

His eyes are rimmed red, and cheeks drenched wet.

You gently cup his jaw. “You were more than enough Kento. You held him even when he didn’t want to be held. You didn’t get angry. You didn’t walk away. You didn’t even raise your voice once. That’s not just ‘enough’. That’s what a good dad does. That’s love.”

He closes his eyes, leaning into your touch as more tears gather in his long blonde lashes. “I just…” his voice breaks. “I just wanted to be what he needed.”

Nanami wraps his arms around you tighter, letting his forehead drop to your shoulder. He breathes into your neck, letting your sent comforting him­—just like his son does.

“I don’t mind not being the favorite,” he murmurs after a while, his voice quiet and raw. “But I hope, one day, he’ll reach for me too.”

You press a kiss the top of his head, pulling him impossibly closer to you. “He will. And when he does…he won’t want to let go.”

[princesslai]

How could you?

(this broke me and now I’ll cry for the rest of the night while thinking about the implications of this beautiful piece of writing making me want to disintegrate.)

[mintmatcha]

anyway if you're new here read my aizawa fanfic on ao3

[mintmatcha]

Werewolf cowboy it's literally my vet student ass wet dream. Idk if it's bc my forte is cows (and dogs, so like, great combo), and I'm a nerd for them but he's like, my perfect fantasy. He scratches a very specific and technical part of my brain 😭😭😭

Sexy werewolf in a hat, strong and dependable it's hoooot already, but a cowboy??? Who probably bottle feeds the weak cattle that was rejected by its own mother, because he knows he won't make it without colostrum (the first hours of feeding are crucial bc cattle are born without an immune system, and after a time frame their stomach "closes" and they won't be able to take the defenses coming from mom's milk— see, very specific scratch to my brain). And probably he plays around with the bulls, who really are like giant puppies with horns in the proper environment, without stress and properly cared for, because bulls can get really clingy and pet demanding?????

The contrast between horny beast and sweet ranch boy has me foaming in the mouth and rubbing my hands like a fly. Any time you post something about him I'm like, yeah, crumbs and I devour them like a starved woman.

Lmaoooo you got me deranged for a fictional man, I love you so much 😭😭😭😭

He's the literal guard dog of the herd. he patrols the perimeter to keep his scent fresh, to keep other predators away.... he tries to act tough about it, that they are just animals and its simply his job to keep them alive, but he bottlefeeds that baby with such a tenderness that you KNOW he's lying. he'll get up at the crack of dawn to mix up some milk replacer for that thing and pat its little rump while it eats because 'the damn thing wont eat unless i do it!"

his bottle baby ends up needing to be put down for some reason or another and he's despondent for weeks, zoning off into space with this sigh he doesn't even know he's doing-

"that's farm life," he tells you. "nothing to be torn up about."

[mintmatcha]

"How are you feeling, cowboy?"

You flick the brim of his hat, looking for the smile it always gets you, but all he gives you is a straight lined thing, barely more than a grimace. He never looks his age to you, but today he wears it heavily, with heavy bags and worry lines. Against common sense, you open your arms to him, inviting the man in for a hug. He'd never take it, you think, as he steps forward into you. An arm hangs over your shoulder, almost noncommittally.

"Thinking 'bout selling it all off," he grumbles into your hair. "Every single acre. Gonna move to fuckin' Alaska and never see a damn cow again."

ou close your arms around his tiny waist. Both of you know he could never really leave; his heartbreak is talking, not his brain. "Beau..."

"Really let myself go full wolf. Never think of this place again."

Glancing up, you catch him looking back down at you, eyes bouncing back and forth between your two eyes. Really, you could press up on to your toes and fill the gap between you, catch those freckled lips in a kiss that could fixe everything.

Instead, you just hold him.

"You'd miss it."

Beau's eyes suddenly land on your mouth, lingering for a moment too long to be natural.

Despite yourself, you catch your lip between your teeth and he exhales, this time with a shaking, undeniably want. You're going to kiss him, you realize as your hand slips to his neck. He doesn't know it, but you're going to kiss him. Those golden eyes catch the sunlight that peeks in through the blinds and you know it, you know you're too far gone to ever back out.

"Your life would be a lot more peaceful without me," he replies. That arm on your shoulder is moving, trailing down your arm to the crook of your waist.

The rhythm of your breathing has synced with each other, these long, heavy things that seem to drag on forever, the moment between you neverending.

"I'd miss my puppy dog," you say and then press up to meet his lips.

[princesslai]

I’m addicted to a cowboy werewolf now and only because of Sunnshine’s reblogs 😭😭 so thank you both for that