• ᴗ •

Loving Yūji comes with a package deal you don't necessarily know how to deal with. Granted, you've loved him first before this whole ordeal even happened — it still is a matter of when and never an if, per se, when it comes to his special situation. 

"So tight, baby," Yūji says between sucking his breath. He's not quite sure whether to ram and go at a harsher pace or let you adjust to his girth first. His control is being tested too much right now. "Even after all that." 

You moan his name in praise before you lock your legs around his waist and pull yourself closer to him, effectively shutting him up from keeping things slow. You've always wanted things rougher, something that Yūji loves about you (but even then, he still wishes to take his time). 

"Oh s-shit, baby!" Yūji would've let his eyes roll back if he wasn't focused on keeping his entire weight off of you. "F-Fuck!"

"H-Harder, Yūji," you beg him, "please."

Yūji doesn't need to be told twice. He grabs hold of your thighs roughly and pounds into you like an animal in heat. You arch your back further for more, and he gives in. 

"So good, baby," Yūji drools, "so, so good. Oh my — fuck!" 

Just as you are coming down with your first orgasm, another voice pierces through the solidity of the air and breaks it easily as if he had done this countless times before. 

"Enchain." 

Suddenly you are flipped on your hands and knees. Your hair has been forcibly fisted and yanked until your head is pulled back enough to see your lover covered in tattoos, and a vitriol laugh teases your ears. 

"Y-Yū —" 

"Brat's not here," Sukuna's voice deeply rumbles against your skin. 

This is the first time he's ever made his presence known to you. You've heard stories of how Sukuna would pop on Yūji's cheek or his hands whenever he's got something to say (especially towards your sensei and Megumi), but not once has he ever manifested and break through Yūji's control — and right in the middle of fucking, too. 

"Heh," he yanks you further until you can see his eyes gazing heatedly at yours, "pussy so good, my own vessel lost control. Let's see if you do live up to that expectation."

Then he slams your head against the pillow and fucks you senseless. It's wrong . . . to even feel how fucking good it is to be brutally pounded. 

Yet, here you are in the mercy of a sadistic curse, cackling like a bastard that he is. 

Sukuna had you spread out for him, as he continues to ram his cock up inside of you. One of his hands kneads your ass mockingly before he slaps each cheek hard. 

Your teeth bite into the soft fabric of the pillow, muffling your screams lest you want Megumi to hear you at the other side of the room. At this point, Sukuna slapping you might've really been a dead giveaway. 

"Y-Yūji —"

"My name, brat —"

"—Y-Yūji, Y-Yū—"

"— I said my name." He slaps your sloppily wet clit. 

You arch your back unknowingly to the sensation, and before you could have thought twice about it, your body yields and your mouth muddles the name, "S-Sukuna!"

"Good." He mutters darkly, "Good girl."

He fondles your breasts next. Then his tongue laps to the outline of your spine and back up to your neck, where he marks you. His canines have sunk into your skin so deeply, he can taste your blood, and that further fuels him into a mess of moans and praise as if he's drunk on an aphrodisiac. 

"Again." He orders you. "My name. Only." 

"Sukuna," you say. "Sukuna! Sukuna! Sukuna! F-Fuck, I —" 

"That's it."

The first of your orgasms comes to you like a torrent. It's harsh and unforgiving, much like how Sukuna doesn't stop fucking you even as you try your best to squirm away. 

When you feel that he's finally slowed down, when his hands have released the hold against your body, and you allow yourself to breathe a little better, there's a sudden shift between you and the King of Curses. You realize that it's because you've been flipped back and your legs are locked around his waist again. 

"S-Sukuna?" 

"No," Yūji breathlessly says. He leans his face closer until his lips brush yours. "I-It's me, baby. It's me. I'm sorry. I-I lost control. Are you hurt?" 

You shake your head with a smile. "N-No, I'm fine. I'm more than fine." 

"Yeah?" Yūji perks up. You notice that his cock has hardened once more and he's repositioning himself to your abused cunt. 

"Yeah, baby." You laugh dumbly. "That was . . . quite exhilarating." 

Yūji bumps his nose against yours. The heat in his eyes is visible, but nowhere near as intense as the other pair you were forced to look at earlier. 

"That was hot," Yūji admits. "Watching you . . . like that." 

"It was," you breathe out. 

When you peer below Yūji's eyes, you swear you've seen the glints of red and black squinting back at you as if to tell you that he's heard about your little honesty. 

Well, it really can't be helped sometimes. After all, loving Yūji does come with a deal. 

"Are you tired?" Yūji brushes your hair tenderly. 

You shake your head. "Not at all, baby." 

"Let me fuck you next, then." 

And yet you—a woman he had taken as a wife out of sheer boredom—had the gall to lay your hand upon him.

It was nothing grand—just your warm, gentle hand resting on his bicep.

Yet Sukuna stiffened under your touch and felt his skin burn with a foreign feeling. You noticed the change in his demeanor and quickly pulled your hand away.

“I'm… I'm sorry, my lord. I didn't mean to touch you without permission.”

And after that, you never did it again.

But Sukuna couldn't forget about it. No matter how hard he tried—even letting his enemies cut off that same limb. But it was useless when he felt that same, warm tingling sensation when he grew it back.

Your touch was seared deeply into his skin.

He should be angry at you for doing this to him. He should kill you.

But instead, he craved. He craved your soft hands on his body again. He imagined you in ways he never dared to—what would it feel like to have your hands gently cradle his face? Would you be disgusted when your fingertips brushed against his deformed face? Or what would it feel like to have you here in his large futon—limbs tangled together, you pressed against him completely bare, letting his large hands freely explore your body and his stomach mouth nibble at your abdomen.

Sukuna's face twisted into an annoyed scowl as he squashed away those thoughts. He glared at the ceiling of his chambers—sleep eluding him.

Then his gaze lazily shifted towards the shoji doors that lead to the garden. They were rattling against the harsh winds of an oncoming storm.

And then he recalled that you were terrified of storms.

Sukuna closed his eyes, completely adamant on ignoring that small detail. But it kept nagging him in the back of his mind like a pounding headache again and again until he clicked his tongue and rose from his futon.

“Stupid, foolish woman.” He grumbled irritably as he left his chambers and made his way towards yours.

And when he reached it, he heard your soft whimpers and sniffles. The sudden hitch of your breath when there was a brilliant flash of lightning followed by defeaning thunder.

Sukuna tore open the shoji door, making you scramble up to sit on your futon in surprise.

“M-My lord?!” You hastily wiped away your tears. “What are you doing here?”

“Your incessant snivelling is disturbing the entire estate, woman.” He narrowed his eyes at the way your hands were trembling. “More than this wretched storm.”

Sukuna approached you, noting the look of fear in your eyes under his looming figure. Your mouth opened, ready to spew out some nonsense apology.

You looked so weak—so pathetic. He should really just kill you and be done with it.

But he found himself bending down and shoving away the covers of your futon.

“Move over.” He grunted.

You were frozen, staring at him dumbfounded.

“Huh…?”

“I won't repeat myself again. Move over.”

You quickly scooted to the other side of the futon as he slid in and made himself comfortable. In his eyes, you looked like a frightened, little rodent tucked away in the corner who gasped at another crash of thunder.

And yet, Sukuna merely rolled his eyes and grabbed your arm, pulling you down and pressing you firmly against his chest. Four arms wrapped around you, his nose pressed against your hair while his stomach mouth breathed against your own stomach.

Again, he felt it. The warmth when your hands were curled tightly into fists against his chest.

He resisted the urge to shiver.

The room was quiet, save for the howling and constant pattering from the wind and rain.

You were still shaking in his hold.

Sukuna frowned.

“Why are you still shaking?” His chest rumbled from his deep voice. “Do you really have anything to fear while being in my arms?”

Slowly, as if some realisation had dawned upon you, the trembling of your body lessened until it completely stopped.

“No… I don't.”

You relaxed in his hold, your fingers slowly uncurling, spreading out against his chest. Sukuna has never felt this much warmth. Not even his own divine flame could compare.

“Sleep.” He grunted out.

You were silent but then shifted slightly against his chest before mumbling.

“Thank you, my lord.”

Sukuna didn't reply.

You were about to lift your face up to look at him—to see what kind of expression he had on his face. But he merely placed a large hand on your head and kept you buried against his chest.

“Disobeying me again? I said sleep, wife.” His voice sounded strained.

And you eventually did—you relaxed and fell into deep sleep as if you weren't in the arms of the most dangerous sorcerer in Japan.

It was a few hours after when Sukuna followed suit. Not before listening to the sound of your soft snores or the way you twitched or snuggled deeper into his hold. His senses were engulfed with the scent of your favourite body oil—camellia.

Sukuna's treacherous thoughts betrayed him yet again as he decided that he… wouldn't mind staying like this with you more often.

And so the very next day, he promptly shifted you to his own chambers.

the textbook was a weapon, and it was currently winning.

you stared blankly at a diagram of a human torso, the labels blurring into a dizzying soup of latin words. your upper body anatomy quiz was tomorrow morning, and true to form, you were cramming the night before. you hadn't even been at it for an hour, but your brain was already completely fried.

"okay, wait," you muttered to yourself, rubbing your temples. "does the bicep sit higher than the tricep? or is the tricep on top? no that's… wait, where is the brachialis again?"

it was hopeless. you'd look at a muscle, repeat its name five times, look away, and immediately erase it from your memory. with a dramatic groan, you collapsed backward onto your bed, letting the heavy textbook rest precariously on your stomach. you were officially doomed.

the mattress dipped.

a flash of white hair entered your peripheral vision as satoru crawled onto the bed, shifting smoothly until he was hovering over you like a giant, ridiculously attractive cat.

"look at you, absolutely suffering," satoru teased, a sharp, playful grin tugging at his lips. "i can practically hear your brain short-circuiting from over here, babe."

you opened your eyes to glare at him, but the retort died in your throat. because, of course, satoru had decided to wear that shirt tonight. it was a long-sleeved, black compression top that clung to every single line of his frame, highlighting a ridiculously broad chest and sculpted shoulders.

he was just a criminally handsome guy who clearly spent way too much time at the gym. it was completely unfair how he could look that good just from lifting weights while you were drowning in textbooks.

"go away," you wheezed, weakly lifting a hand to push at his face. "you’re a distraction. a highly illegal distraction."

1.2k words, quick read 𝑓𝑡. byf!toru ( +18 )

Satoru tossed and turned for the fifteenth time in ten minutes. The mattress groaned under him, and honestly, so did you.

"If you don't anchor your ass down in the next two seconds, I’m sleeping on the couch," you muttered into your pillow, your voice thick with sleep and irritated as hell. Your acrylics clicked against your phone screen as you checked the time. 3:42 AM. Fantastic.

Satoru flopped onto his back, sighing like he’d just run a marathon instead of just lying in a climate-controlled room. He rolled over, propping his chin on your shoulder, his hair poking you right in the cheek.

"I can't sleep, babe. It’s a medical emergency at this point," he whined, his voice doing that annoying, high-pitched drag he used whenever he wanted something. "My brain is literally frying. You gotta help me out."

"Go count sheep or something, Satoru. Or better yet, go do some push-ups in the living room till you pass out." You shoved his face away, but he just slid right back, wrapping a heavy arm around your waist and pulling you against him.

"Sheep are boring. Plus, I have a way better solution," he said, a slow, cocky grin spreading across his face even in the dark. He gave your hip a suggestive nudge, flipping effortlessly onto his back and dragging you right along with him until you were sprawled over his chest. "Come on. Just a quick cockwarm. Just climb up and park it so I can drift off. You don't even have to do any work. Just lay on me and look pretty."

You let out a long, exhausted groan, staring down at his stupidly handsome face. "Are you for real right now? It is almost four in the morning and you’re tryna use me like a heated blanket?"

"I mean, you are warm," he teased, his hands sliding down to grip your hips, guiding you up his torso. "And you love me. And I’ll literally buy you those shoes you were barking at on Instagram earlier. The ugly ones with the spikes."

"They are not ugly, they're archive fashion, you uncultured brain," you snapped, though your defense lacked any real venom because, honestly, the shoes were expensive. You sighed, rolling your eyes. "Fine. Whatever. But if you start doing too much and wake me up completely, I’m biting you."

"Deal. You’re the best, seriously, a literal angel," Satoru cheered, already shifting beneath you and tugging his sweatpants down with zero shame.

He didn't waste any time. His hands stayed firmly on your hips, helping you lift yourself just enough to line things up before his fingers hooked into the fabric of your panties, pushing the lace firmly to the side so he could slide smoothly inside you. The sudden fullness made you catch your breath for a second, your hands coming down to rest on his broad chest for balance. You slumped forward, letting your forehead rest right against his shoulder.

"Uuugh, fuck," Satoru muttered, his arms immediately wrapping around your back, locking you against him. He let out a long, shaky breath, all that restless energy he’d been carrying for the last hour suddenly evaporating the second you completely enclosed him. He didn't move, didn't try to lift his hips, he just stayed perfectly still, letting out a deep, contented sigh that vibrated right through your chest. "See? Perfect. I'm already curing my insomnia."

"Mmm.. wrap it up," you mumbled, adjusting your legs so you were comfortably straddling his thighs, completely deadweight on top of him. Your nails lightly scratched at the skin of his chest, mostly just out of habit to keep him settled. "If you start twitching or doing that weird leg-shake thing you do when you dream, I’m getting off."

"I don't twitch," he mumbled, his voice already dropping an octave, thick with growing drowsiness. He tightened his hold around your waist, burying his face in your hair, his breathing already starting to slow down. One of his hands moved in a lazy, comforting circle on your lower back. "You're soft."

"I know that," you replied, closing your eyes and finally feeling the pull of sleep yourself now that he was anchored and quiet. "Don't forget the shoes."

"Mmm. Spiky shoes. Got it," he slurred.

Within five minutes, his breathing completely evened out, turning into heavy, rhythmic thuds beneath you. He was completely dead to the world, holding you secure against him while he snored softly into your neck. You gave a small, half-annoyed huff, melting completely into his chest, and finally fell asleep with his cock buried inside you.

᭡ kali’s notes ⸻ I’ve been thinking about writing about cockwarming for a while now… I’m just experimenting tbh guys, but yeah hope y’all enjoyed it ?? mwahh !

you nod softly, planting yourself in front of him. his features are carved in the hue of blue light, a small, enamored smile curling across his lips as his head tips back against the headrest. “what’s up?”

your features are scrunched in a furrowed pout, lips jutted out so cutely it makes kenma’s heart squeeze. you blink doey at him, lashes batting quickly against your cheeks as if to convey a message to him.

thankfully, he’s fluent in how to love you.

“okay. you want something.”

you nod. he grins.

bac0nb1t3ater detective kodzuken on the case

sakurakisses04 he’s so in love

cozysocksforme disgusting (i’m single)

kenma swivels back and forth in his chair for a moment before looking back up at you, “okay. do you want to tell me off stream or guess in front of the people for public humiliation?”

your lip quirks in a smirk that you don’t even bother to try and smother. he laughs.

i_b_flossin public humiliation of course

redbeanqueen he’s lit rally just their jester and good for them

that0nehamster do u do parties kodzuken?

“have you eaten in the four hours i’ve been in here?”

you look away. he snickers.

retriever_red_rover HES ZEROING IN

violet_ur_violet AND MEN SHOULD TAKE NOTES

flowersniffer i also think mind reading is bare minimum

“do you want me to feed you?” he asks.

your head shakes. his tips in intrigue.

rosepetalsandsunflowerseeds CLOWN CLOWN

mmmmgravy if he gets another one wrong they get to break his finger it’s the rules

“i’m starved for your attention,” you whine. his eyes roll into his head while you struggle to hide your laughter.

“okay, but you should actually probably eat,” he reminds you. “do you want me to make you something?”

“no, i want to watch you play,” you say, “attention starved, remember?”

with a grin, he gently pushes his chair out further, allowing you to climb into his lap. he watches fondly as you fold yourself across his lap, your back rounding to accommodate your adult frame. his arm wraps around you before scooting back to the desk, free hand grabbing the controller to loop his arms around you.

“what’re we playing?” he asks, saving the game he’s on before going back to his game catalogue, allowing you to browse his library.

you mewl and burrow into his neck, taking a sweet inhale of his warm skin, “stardew valley.”

“you just want to see your wife,” he teases.

“and what of it?”

and as if nothing happened, the stream continued, just with a few more kisses than expected.

boxer!𝑦uji, who has permanent calluses across his knuckles and apologizes every time he wants to hold your hand. "Sorry—they're kinda rough."

boxer!𝑦uji, who looks for you first after every fight, whether he won or lost.

boxer!𝑦uji, who also lights up the second he spots you in the crowd.

boxer!𝑦uji, who constantly aches after practice causing him to instinctively crawls into your arms, mumbling about nothing.

boxer!𝑦uji, who texts you before every match:

"Going in. Wish me luck baby! 🙏❤️"

boxer!𝑦uji, who's not embarrassed to kiss you in front of the cameras, especially after a major win. Even deepening the kiss, you could feel him smiling against your lips.

boxer!𝑦uji, who always smells faintly of athletic tape, laundry detergent, and mint gum.

boxer!𝑦uji, who happily gives you is medals to wear after every win.

boxer!𝑦uji, who pulls you into the tightest hugs after winning, careful trying not to get blood or sweat on you, but also unable to let go for like a full minute.

boxer!𝑦uji, who falls asleep immediately with his head tucked between your neck because post-fight exhaustion hits him like a truck.

boxer!𝑦uji, who gets super clingy on rest days because he’s not used to not training, so he ends up just following you around the house like:

“What’re you doing now?” “Can I come too?”

boxer!𝑦uji, who gets quiet after bad matches and won’t talk much until you sit next to him and he slowly leans into you, seeking comfort.

boxer!𝑦uji, who is incredibly gentle with you despite how violent his sport looks from the outside.

first post how we feeling? 👀

it’s your routine that you’ve been doing far before you and sukuna got together, you stretch. it’s the late afternoon, an hour before sukuna gets home from work, the sunset spilles through the ajar window, painting your stretching form and highlighting your natural beauty.

Your favourite song echoes throughout yours and sukunas welcoming home, as you ease your self into a lunge. A groan escapes your mouth, while the built up tension in your muscles leave your body, from the hectic day you had at work .

You value this hour you have alone since your able to connect with your self and let your mind have a rest. Although, you do adore sukuna and he’s the love of your life he has no idea what you get up to in this hour .

You know theirs no need to lie, but you feel like a child again, being able to keep secrets just between you and your self.

He has asked before, what you have been doing, but a white lie never hurt anybody. You would just say simply watching a movie.

While you’re in your head performing the splits, you don’t manage to hear the front door open and sukuna come home.

as soon as sukuna enters, he finds it ominous that your favourite song is playing, curiosity instantly hits him.

He always wandered what you did in your free time without his claustrophobic presence.

sukunas makes sure to not make a racket while making it to the living room.

When he sees you doing the splits, looking calm as ever, he’s amazed all the years you’ve been together sukuna has never seen you do this.

A smirk grows on his face, he watches you for a few moments until you notice him.

when you do notice his daunting figure behind you, watching your every movement, you jump out your skin.

you look at the clock that sits perfectly centred on the wall "you are home early kuna"

he chuckles at you, resulting in you to pout as you slowly get out of the splits.

although you're shocked your body feels much better.

'' no wander I can bend you in any direction in bed " you choke on your own spit at sukuna.

''well now you know what I do in this hour'' you don't get any comment back

after that afternoon, you haven't had that hour alone again all because of sukuna

just as you're about to stretch he marches through the door early. miraculously his job lets him go early now.

due to sukuna you have been introduced into a new stretching technique and sukuna is the main object.

you stretch your leg onto his shoulder and he thoroughly enjoys it.

you're doing the stretch currently, and sukuna can't help but admire your body's flexibility, he's obsessed with It.

I really like this one. I have so many fics that I want to write it’s just laziness as the moment

“sixeyeyn or rottensatoru? chat are you guys making a ship name? this was worse than last time…” 𓆩♡𓆪

suguru read the chat amused while he looked at the viewership on his stream increasing. why? because rottenyn and sixeyesatoru keep edging their fans on their “situationship” relationship thing that was going on, and the one and only streamer!satoru was there, in suguru’s stream.

suguru initially wanted to do a gameplay, but when he realized that he accidentally invited satoru prior, he realized he might as well profit off this situation his friend finds himself in.

“pay no mind,” streamer!satoru said. “they’ve done that in my tiktok and insta comments too.”

as much as he wanted to deny it and keep it cool in front of the chat, streamer!satoru had to keep his image—despite the fact that he dms you every night. he managed to get your number and play the occasional game pigeon, play some private 1v1 sessions, and even watch a movie on a discord call twice a week…however it would be preferable to do it in person, but you are just so considerate on getting clipped and taking to consideration streamer!satoru’s career. god you really were cool…

after sukuna’s streamer get-together, his feed went on fire due to the camera showing your interaction in the background. it got clipped all over social media and not to mention, people were now starting to pay attention to how satoru even interacts with your posts, always liking it in minutes and commenting “nonchalantly”.

and that…that was the best thing to have come out of the stream.

he didn’t want to admit it, but satoru loved the ship names spammed in the chat and even his fans coming up to him and asking about you. he got approached at a popmart store and clipped. then, his timeline went on fire, why? streamer!satoru said popmart was overrated; but who likes to open popmart figures? streamer!yn.

streamer!satoru couldn’t lie—he found it so funny when his fans asked you about him. because then he would come across clips of the stream on twitter and see how flustered you’d get, then give a response with a cute smile on your face. streamer!satoru loved sending those clips and teasing you.

“lmao he’s so invested in his phone i bet he’s texting yn. yeahhh i think so too.” suguru laughed, invested in the chat more than on his valorant session. “got any ship name ideas? how about sato-y/n? or maybe y/n-toru?”

he frowned. “shut up i’m buying something.” to which suguru leaned over to see. “a zimomo? hmmm interesting. what’dya gotta say about that, chat? personally, i think they’re fugly as shit but i know a certain someone really likes those…”

the ping! of the chat increased linearly, then suguru spoke again. “by the way, our special guest is coming soon. we can play like flee the facility or something.”

“who?” satoru asked, still scrolling on his phone for more trinkets to buy for your next 'unboxing stream'.

“dunno if you know them. but she should be—,” then the doorbell rang. “ah. she’s here.”

“she-?”— “get the door, satoru. i’m busy…”

satoru hummed, thinking that suguru got a streamer!yn of his own (but you’re totally wayyy better) and gasped when he opened the door. he sure as hell didn’t expect you..but he isn't inherently complaining about it either.

“oh! hey satoru!”

satoru froze, pouted, and let you in. “wait what the hell? i didn't know you were coming? why didn’t you text meeee? yn?”

you giggled and kissed his cheek—resulting in his face burning red like a tomato. “sorry toru, i’ll let you know next time. thanks for the sonny angels. i’ll be sure to shout you out next stream—,”

"toru, huh?" suguru’s gaming chair wheeled back and he cleared his throat. “guys, don’t forget that when you’re on stream, people can hear you. yeah. people have ears. get over here and let’s play flee the facility.”

once you and satoru pulled roblox up on your phones, suguru began laughing. you forgot that suguru was showing his screen so when viewers noticed the two matching roblox avatars next to suguru's customized one, the chat's ding-ing became more apparent.

“awh matching avatars? how cute.” he mocked.

it was safe to say that your entire feed went on fire with more possible ship names.

-

-

-

if i were to make another part of this streamer series, what would you guys want to see? vnlinewnelbwlkq (lmao should i make jjk streamer university and add it into this or smt, i say as i'm watching this youtube video essay on how funny streamer university is)

“streamer! satoru x streamer! yn collab!! please !!" 𓆩♡𓆪

"chat, what the hell are you talking about? rottenyn?" satoru murmured, reading what his chat was sending him as he was streaming his screen, playing penguin heist on steam. he was asking his chat of around 20k viewers to potentially give him ideas on what to play next. rivals? valorant? even league maybe.

streamer! satoru a.k.a. sixeyesatoru was currently the top streamer on kick and twitch, and of course, he hung around his posse of streamer friends like nanaken and cursedsuguru to name a few. he wasn't aware of some "rando" like rottenyn? who the hell was that?

"chat said search her up." suguru snickered, leaning over to hit his vape to which he got smacked in the arm by streamer! satoru—the twitch partner. "chat also said she's been talking about you. ouuuu satoru. i've heard of her, she's chill."

streamer! satoru had his fair share of internet flings and crushes (obviously, it was a joke in his community regarding his type being h/c hair and e/c eyes), but he didn't know what to expect when he searched you up on twitter and instagram.

and no wonder why his chat was going insane with spamming your user... you were exactly his dream girl.

streamer! yn, who streamed herself doing popmart unboxings, occasional commentary on internet stuff and gameplay of the same games he did. she was a rising streamer who had gotten viral on tiktok and instagram. streamer! yn who was exactly his type and was on twitter, clipped saying that streamer! satoru was exactly her type.

"ijbol satoru just malfunctioned. chat shut up." he ended up following her on insta, tiktok, and twitter after the stream and got followed back minutes later—much to the amusement of his fans and yours too.

streamer! satoru, who's been secretly stalking your socials and talking about you to suguru and kento. how you're totally his type and is so talented in valorant and how you're so cool.

"didn't you think she was a rando when chat told you about her?"

"shut up suguru."

streamer! satoru, who got invited to one of streamer!sukuna's multi-streamer collabs and didn't expect for streamer! yn to be there, talking to suguru on one of the couches.

"hey satoru, we were just talking about you!" suguru smiled, standing up and leaving both of you alone. he turned to you, anxiously. you shot him a smile and you looked so cute and you smelled so nice and—was that the sweatshirt you were talking about in a stream of yours?

"i really like your streams! you actually inspired me to start streaming and i'm really happy i'm getting to talk to you!"

streamer! satoru basically internally combusted. he felt as if he would explode right now. "o-oh wow! i'm honored..."

"wanna collab sometime?" - "wanna go out sometime?"

you both blinked at each other, with your face burning and his twisting into a look of horror, all the while, the other streamers like ryokuna, nanaken, and tojilifts were just observing the unfortunately awkward situation you two were in.

"sure!"

"i am so sorry!"

the both of you could only hope that your blushing and awkward face didn't get clipped for the timeline later... but of course it did.

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i wanna write more streamer gojo like actually even tho i don't really watch streamers (except vanilla bc its vanilla and i have the fattest crush on her) but yayayaya.

he was the type to always sit at the front of class, get the homework done early and always asks for extra work. you shared a few classes with him, but frankly he was a little intimidating. but, if you want to pass, you might as well give it okay.

"um, excuse me, nanami?" you say tentatively. the bell just went and everyone is packing up to leave, giving you a minute to talk to him as he does the same. his lifts his chin slightly and raises an eyebrow.

"i, i was wondering if, if you'd, if you could-"

"spit it out, i don't have all day."

"i, i was hoping you could maybe tutor me? even just for a little bit?"

nanami's eyebrows raise for a moment before he chuckles, readjusting his glasses.

"tutor you? what happened to that cocky boyfriend of yours?"

"oh, um, gojo and i aren't together anymore."

"really? well, i'll think about it. what would you like me to help you with?"

"uh, everything." you say sheepishly. it feels a little selfish to ask for so much, for any time at all. but nanami simply chuckles again, taking out a sticky note and writing on it.

"here's my phone number. maybe we should meet this friday, we can study for that calculus quiz next week. that sound okay?" he voice softens slightly with that last sentence, his firm eyes looking down at you.

"yes please! that would be great."

"perfect. text me."

with that, he grabs his things and leaves the classroom. he was a little rigid, which was to be expected, but also seemed quite willing to help you. you smile giddily as you walk to your next class.

“come on babe it’s gonna look so cool!” you pleaded, giving him your best puppy eyes in another attempt to convince him.

you’d been scrolling through pinterest, following your nightly routine, when you came across a really cute couple pic where the guy had lipstick marks all over his bicep, maybe an overly used idea but you still found it pretty cute. and well, safe to say the idea had been stuck in your head for a week before you finally decided to play dirty and convince him to recreate the exact same picture for your perfected instagram feed.

and in your book, playing dirty meant mean puppy eyes and pouty lips with glossy tears sitting tightly on the edge of your lashes, threatening to spill over them.

a sight you knew he was hopelessly weak for.

you grinned to yourself. he was as grumpy as ever, letting out a long groan before throwing an arm over his eyes in a poor attempt to ignore you. huge mistake.

you were sitting on top of him while he lay sprawled across couch with his legs hanging over the armrest. fond as he was of summer, he wasn’t exactly immune to the dry heat that came with it and now he was dealing with a persistent headache for days, causing him to lay in the same spot for hours until the sun went down. currently, he was in his fourth hour of the day.

“babyy,” you whined with the exact pout you knew he could never resist.

he groaned again, one hand instinctively settling around your waist to steady you. “y’know you’re a fucking menace.”

you grinned. “does that mean yes?”

a tight silence stretched across his features. he sighed as his voice crawled up to a tone so defeated.

“do whatever you want.”

you let out an excited squeal, a scream of victory, before immediately reaching for the red lipstick.

ever since you’d started dating, you’d realized no matter how stubborn or intimidating he could be, never before had it seem as he had the determination to say a simple ‘no’ to you. at first he’d been genuinely confused by it, convinced there had to be some scientific explanation for why he was physically incapable of rejecting you. well, the explanation he came up with was that he was just a guy so in love. a guy weak and devoted in love.

he seemed to accept this half scientific explanation he had for himself wholeheartedly. he was a weak man.

summary: text messages between you and your boyfriend sukuna who happens to be a big in a frat during rush week.

warnings: crack, cursing, nerd reader, freaky talk insinuated, poor understand of the frat system

art creds:

@ aliyartss on instagram [the banner] @ su2kuna [ss 3, 8 & 9] @meddness999 on tumblr [ss 6] @ 679sora on x [ss 5]

📩 requests are open! | SEE MORE | GET NOTIFIED

Might do one or two more parts, just cause I recently watched Brave and this came from it 😭

Barbarian King!Simon Riley threw a festival every year when spring came. It wasn’t really that he liked the festival or enjoyed throwing them, but it revitalised the kingdom and you enjoyed them so whatever you enjoyed, he did. It was kinda an unsaid rule from even the beginning of your marriage

Barbarian King!Simon Riley reluctantly invites the three clans to a festival. He really really really didn’t want to, but you thought it would foster connection again and Maxwell was getting older. These would be his subjects one day and Max needed to nurture relationships and learn their specific customs. (You had made it very clear early on that you refused to send any of your kids off to get married to secure alliances. From your own experiences, you knew what good could come from it, but you never would wish the fear you had gone through upon your children. Simon readily agreed. He would never send his daughters away to marriages like your horrible father did.)

bf!toji who acts like nothing bothers him, but he secretly notices every little change in your mood. he knows exactly how sensitive you are and treats your feelings like something fragile, even if he tries to act casual about it.

bf!toji is the type to drop his tough guy act the second your bottom lip starts shaking. if you two are watching a sad movie and a pet dies, or if you just had a terrible day and drop your cup on the floor—he's right there. he won't tease you. he’ll just pull you against his chest, let you ruin his shirt with your tears, and rub your back until you stop crying. he genuinely hates seeing you sad.

bf!toji who is completely caught off guard the first time it happens. you’re sitting on his lap, wrapped around him, completely lost in the moment. one of his big, rough hand is holding your hips, keeping you close, while he kisses your neck and slowly moves his thick digits inside your pussy, finding a rhythm that takes your breath away.

bf!toji stops completely the second he hears a small, shaky sniffle. he goes totally stiff under you. he stops moving his fingers and pulls back from your neck, his dark eyes wide and worried as he holds your face. seeing tears running down your cheeks scares him a little.

"hey... look at me. what's wrong? did i hurt you?" his voice is rough and actually panicked. "tell me, do you want me to stop?"

bf!toji watches you whine softly because he stopped. you shake your head, hiding your face in his shoulder and crying out the truth: "n-no, don't stop... it just—it feels too good, ji. i can't help it."

bf!toji freezes, taking in what you just said. hearing that you aren't crying from pain, but because he is making you feel that good? a switch flips in his brain and the panic disappears, replaced by a huge rush of excitement.

note : this is part two! view part one here.

masterlist part three here!

SUGAR SUGAR

𐙚!!── eren and his sugar baby!

⤷ ❝ {cw: sugar daddy! eren, IT! eren, sugar baby! reader, age gap, slight! nsfw mentioned, dry humping, making out, pda, slight! exhibitionism} ¡! ❞

⤷ 𝐢

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

the private jet’s back lounge was pure luxury. deep charcoal and black leather wrapped around a wide buttery sectional sofa. warm amber lighting glowed along the walls and ceiling, mixing with tiny starlight leds that twinkled softly overhead like a private night sky.

the large oval windows showed nothing but darkness and distant city lights far below. a polished walnut table sat beside the sofa, holding eren’s open laptop and the crystal bowl of chilled grapes the flight attendant had brung earlier.

you were curled sideways on his lap, legs draped over one thigh, feeding him grapes while he tried to finish an email. the soft lighting carved sharp shadows along his jaw and cheekbones. his messy beach hair fell slightly over his forehead and the black button up he wore was unbuttoned at the top, sleeves rolled up.

you slid another grape between his lips, then leaned in, pressing slow, lingering kisses along the side of his neck.

“you’re so pretty, ren,” you whispered against his skin, lips brushing just below his ear. “like… stupidly pretty. i keep staring at you and forgetting what i’m even doing.”

eren’s fingers paused on the keyboard as a low chuckle rumbled in his chest. “you’re killing me with this shit, you know that?”

“i know,” you murmured while smiling as you kissed his neck again, slower this time, letting your lips drag softly down to the spot where his pulse jumped. you fed him another grape then immediately returned to his neck, trailing lazy affectionate kisses while your fingers toyed with the collar of his shirt.

the cabin felt even quieter now, just the low hum of the engines, the occasional click of his keys, and the sound of your mouth on his skin. the tension thickened with every kiss as his free hand rested high on your bare thigh, thumb stroking slow circles under the ruffled hem of your floral mini dress. you could feel him getting harder beneath you, but he was still trying to focus, which only made you want to tease him more.

“you look so good like this,” you whispered, kissing right under his jaw. “all focused and serious… my handsome genius, handling business thirty thousand feet up after spoiling me for days in cabo. makes me kinda wet.”

eren finally exhaled, closed the laptop with a soft click, and pushed it aside. he turned to you fully, green eyes dark and hungry in the amber glow.

“c’mere,” he said, voice low and rough. his hands gripped your hips and pulled you forward until you were straddling him properly on the wide black leather sofa. “gimme some sugar.”