Even While Locked Up, Toji Will Make Valentine's Day Special For You. He Already Has A Letter Sent To

BUTTERFLY EFFECT ୨ৎ track one : damage control.

racing grounds — series m.list. ᡣ𐭩 ferrari-racer!gojo x redbull-racer!sukuna x redbull-manager!reader. warnings — sukuna being remotely nasty, gojo being a narcissistic freak - they're practically the same, except one has anger issues, and the other takes it up the ass. cursing, allusions to sex. threats. reader gets called "babe." let me know if i missed anything! (呪術廻戦) : note — chapter one, and i'm locked in. 1.4k+ words.

"alright," you say, smoothing out the silken fabric of your dress. you watch the limousine, a sleek black beast, disappear around the corner, then turn your attention back to sukuna.

you're standing outside the grand, brightly lit party hall, the faint classical music already vibrating through the pavement beneath your feet, alongside him.

adjusting his tie, which seemed to have an inherent desire to strangle him, you look up to meet his eyes. "remember anything i said?"

his answer is curt, a single syllable of defiance; "no."

well, at least he's consistently honest, even if that honesty was infuriating.

"alright," you sigh, the weariness settling deep in your bones. "ferrari's going to be in there, okay? and a few other people who… well, let’s just say they have a history with you."

a grunt, a non-committal sound that did little to reassure you.

"that means no picking fights, no throwing hands. if they play mean, don't indulge. be the bigger person. i don't want a repeat of last time," you warn, your voice laced with a stern edge.

oh, god, just the mere mention of last time was enough to shave off another five years off your already stressed-out life. the chaos, the broken furniture, the… you’d rather not relive it.

"oh, c'mon," sukuna groans, his voice a low rumble of annoyance. "last time wasn't even my fault. they started it."

"no one mistakes 'dapper' for 'diaper'," you mutter, pointedly ignoring the faint pink that crept up his neck and warmed his cheeks.

"whatever." he rolls his eyes, a dramatic flourish that seemed to say he was the victim of some great injustice, and immediately went to loosen the tie you had just painstakingly tightened.

"behave," you scold, swatting his hand away with a sharp, decisive motion. "you're not a baby."

he's got that infuriating shit-eating grin on his face, the one that always made you suspect he was plotting something. "or, what? you'll punish me?"

you click your tongue, a sound of exasperation. "i'm serious, sukuna."

"so am i," he replies, his grin widening, making you doubt his sincerity.

"sukuna."

"alright, alright," he concedes, though his eyes held a mischievous glint that suggested he was far from reformed.

you glance at his hair, previously styled with gel into a sleek, sophisticated look, now unkempt and tousled.

"stop touching it," you add, glaring at the way he tugs his hand through it, effectively dismantling your efforts. "you look like you wrestled a badger, and somehow lost."

"ready?" you asked, turning away from him, the question more a weary exhale than a genuine inquiry.

"you sound like you're asking yourself, more than me," sukuna retorted, his crimson eyes gleaming with amusement.

"be quiet. let's go." you pushed open the heavy, ornate doors leading into the grand hall, a wave of noise and flashing lights hitting you. reporters swarmed, their eyes immediately snapping to sukuna’s vibrant pink hair. you held your breath, scanning for any signs of imminent chaos.

his record, if you remembered correctly, was five minutes. five minutes before he'd launched into a tirade that involved at least three expletives and a threat to "rearrange someone's face." today, you were aiming for a new record: peace.

"mr. sukuna, how are you feeling about the upcoming race?" a woman, her face framed by a meticulously styled bob, asked, her microphone thrust forward.

"gonna fucking beat their asses," sukuna growled, his voice a low rumble.

you forced a strained laugh, leaning into the nearest camera. "yes, uh, he's feeling rather confident. they've all been training hard, so…"

a man with a receding hairline, his tie askew, pushed past the woman. "with gojo constantly stirring the pot, keeping up to date on the beef—"

"not beef," you interjected, your smile strained but polite. "it's all in good companionship."

he ignored you, his eyes fixed on sukuna. you wondered if your intervention had been a waste of breath. you’d seen enough of their practice runs to know the intense rivalry was more than just “companionship.”

"keeping up to date on the beef," he repeated, "do you have any words for him?"

"i'm not a pussy. he's here, ain't he? i'll tell him to his face."

your eyes widened. the reporter, sensing blood in the water, pressed on. "well, tell the viewers, too. don't want to leave them in the dark, right?"

sukuna paused, his lips parting. you quickly grabbed his arm, pulling him aside. "thank you, but that's all he'll be answering for now."

you dragged him to a relatively quiet alcove, your eyes narrowed. "hey, by any chance, do you remember the conversation we had, what? ten minutes ago? about behaving?"

"sure, and i said i would, if you made me. so, why don't you save us the time, and we get—" he waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"sukuna," you said, your voice eerily calm, "this is a thirty-story building with a roof. do not test me, because i will throw you off the top."

"ooh, don't tease. you know i like them feisty."

"sukuna."

he huffed, a petulant whine escaping him. "fine."

"i need a drink," you muttered, rubbing your temples. "if i leave you alone for five seconds, will you get into a bar fight?"

he shrugged. "depends."

you were exasperated. "on what?"

again, he shrugged, a smirk playing on his lips.

"stay. or. else." you pointed a finger at him, the threat clear.

"keep talkin' dirty."

you made a face. "ew." crossing your fingers, you left him behind, heading towards the nearest bar setup. anything, really, to calm your frayed nerves.

gojo and sukuna in the same room together was a recipe for disaster. all you had to do was make it through one night, and then you'd be good.

well, until the next public relations event. but, you'd jump off that bridge when you got there.

maybe, you needed a hobby. no, that was wishful thinking. as if you had time for one. your entire world revolved around the red bull team, and keeping them in check.

you pinched the bridge of your nose, trying to will the migraine away. you didn't need kids, not really.

not when you had sukuna, that toddler in a finely tailored suit.

you practically flagged down a waiter, eagerly grabbing a sparkling water off their tray. your phone buzzed in your purse, and you assumed it was your boss, checking in on the chaos.

drink in one hand, you reached for your device, but—

thud.

your phone went flying, and your drink hit the polished floor, splashing the person in front of you.

your face heated up, and you were quick to respond. so much for sukuna being the only problem. "oh, my god, i'm so sorry! i really wasn't watching where—"

getting up from picking up your phone, they said, "aw, don't fret, babe."

your embarrassment morphed into annoyance. it was a voice you didn't have to look up to recognize.

you took a half-step back, grabbing tissues from a passing waitress. "gojo," you greeted, dryly. "my apologies."

he pouted, flashing his oh-so-charming signature grin. charming to everyone but you. "hey, now, where'd all the groveling go?"

you pressed the napkin to the damp spot on his custom tuxedo. the cold liquid seeped through his expensive fabric, a dark stain spreading across the pristine white.

you rolled your eyes at him, too agitated to be sincere. "sorry about the mess."

"you don't seem too sorry. ah, well, maybe you'd rather show than tell?" he asked, teasing.

you inhaled sharply. "not here!"

"not here? how about a nice hotel?"

one thing about both gojo and sukuna? they loved testing your patience.

"quit that! somebody might hear us."

"you never worry about that when—"

you cleared your throat, loudly, as a couple passed by. "stop acting like we're a thing. it was once. and, i don't even remember it."

you'd yet to decide whether that was a good thing or not, actually. that was the black-out part of black-out drunk. maybe not having those memories ingrained into your brain did you some good.

"well, if you ever want to relive it…" he trailed off, smiling.

"why would i ever want to?"

he laughed, boisterous. "alright, babe. your call. literally." gojo handed you your phone, and you squinted at the screen, which had his number added as a new contact.

"how—?"

"you dropped it unlocked. lucky me," he sing-songed, and you snatched it back, turning on your heel.

you only got a couple of steps forward, lowering your voice as you called back, "if i had any sanity, you know i'd delete it."

sukuna caught up with you after a few minutes, and you sighed, looking over at him. "you good?" he asked.

"never better," you exhaled, clicking your tongue.

your phone buzzed with a new notification, and you made sure you weren't obstructing anyone's path as you checked it.

well, i'm pretty good at driving you crazy.

series taglist (11/50): @jeonwiixard, @paradisestarfishh, @seizecherry, @shinycrybaby, @n1vi, @gojosoups, @poopooindamouf, @susususukanana, @sukubusss, @beereadzzz, @mia-can-yap-too. ask/comment to be added!

he think

⭒ 𝑺𝑼𝑵𝑫𝑨𝒀

gn reader. sfw. slow mornings with sunday. i like the idea that is quite clingy / dazed when he first wakes up. petnames used; my dear, my angel. penacony sunday. ₊ 𓂃 masterlist

it was a rare occurrence for you to wake up as SUNDAY still remained next to you in bed. normally, the head of the oak family would've long started his day before you, having to leave quite early to make a start on preparations and his ever growing schedule.

but today seems to be an exception to that as you roll over onto your side, surprised to feel his familiar body heat still sinking into the space next to you. it urges you push yourself up to rest on your forearm, squinting down at him in wonder if he's a drowsy hallucination or a dream as you press your palms into your eyes.

your sudden movement seems to rouse sunday next to you as he grumbles to himself, still finding waking up to be as much a struggle as he always has- even considering how often he has to.

you found his habits in the morning to be quite charming, in the rare moments you got to see them that is. uncharacteristically to what people may expect, the oak family head did not immediately wake up ready to take on his day; with his polite tone of voice and immaculate, tidy appearance.

in fact, sunday didn't wake well at all,

quite the opposite actually as he rests on his pillow now, gazing up at you as you stare back down at him and he offers you no more than a bleary blink before his eyes are closing again and he's trying to tug you back into him.

he sighs when you dont budge much- willing himself to speak despite the way you can tell he'd rather not, "is something the matter? but do tell me it is not time to get up yet, my dear." sunday's voice sounds gravely and low, matching his still drowsy exterior, although comforting enough for you to wind up wriggling yourself closer anyway.

its a movement that he seems to be quite pleased to welcome, holding you into him as your fingertips press beneath the fabric of his night robe, feeling him shudder as they dance along his bare skin.

he was quite the picture of sin in his morning state actually; the darker blue robe he favours as nightwear seeming to drape itself messily from one of his shoulders, revealing the smooth plains of his bare chest and collarbones beneath as the gold embroidery still makes him seem akin to royalty. his usual perfect hairstyle is more of a mused bedhead now and his face is puffy and flushed from sleep still.

he almost looks dazed as he blinks at you slowly, clouded gaze and parted lips, it takes everything in you not to giggle at sunday's adorable state.

"nothings wrong. just surprised to still see you is all." you say softly as you lean in to press a quick kiss against the tip of his nose and it makes him scrunch it ticklishly. he follows the movement with a sigh before his eyes are closing again and he nuzzles into his pillow,

"hm? yes well, rest is important after all. so we mustn’t let the opportunity go to waste." sunday's way of speaking is slow and drawn out, like drowsy-drunken sentences that sound barely strung together.

although you find the opportunity to see him like this quite amusing, you can't help but want to enjoy it a little longer. especially given how irregularly this happens, he can't really blame you.. you're sure he'd feel the same if he were to see himself right now.

but then again, maybe not.

you remain staring at sunday as he rests opposite you, his brows furrowed as he melts into his pillow and breathing softly as you squint at him through the still dimly lit room.

"you know im pretty hungry actually." you speak again, just above a mere whisper and even though he stays silent for the most part, you know he's awake when his fingers squeeze at your waist.

"has talking in your sleep always been a quality of yours, my angel? i'm afraid i don't remember having much.. experience with it, is all." sunday responds flatly, almost sarcastic in his drowsy state and it makes you snort for a moment before you compose yourself again.

you opt to wriggle yourself into his chest a little more as you push yourself to accompany him on his pillow, sinking into the plush cushion and your lover welcomes you despite being half asleep. he hugs you close to him, similar to how one might hold a plushie before he nuzzles his face into you.

your lashes flutter as you find yourself quite comfortable, fingertips keeping themselves busy as they trace the outline of sunday's pecs beneath his robe. although every featherlight touch seems to make him twitch, followed by a soft sort of sound that he's most likely unaware of in his dreamlike state.

you sigh as he hugs you and you feel his arms around you tighten, a wordless sort of welfare check. "i mean it is around time for breakfast, you know." you hum, curiously and he seems to mirror the sound unknowingly.

"ah yes.. breakfast." sunday's sentence seems to trail off at the end, you're not sure if he's even fully asleep or fully awake right now. if you ever had any bad news to break to him or a favour to ask, you're sure this would be a preferred state to do it— he'd most likely give you whatever you wanted.. although unknowingly.

you manage to free yourself just enough to pull back and look at him again, admiring the features on his face as he rests beside you; from the curl of his lashes to the way his silver hair frames his pale skin.

it makes you hum, appreciatively and you feel sunday's hands squeeze at your waist, like he knows you're staring.

"it would be nice to eat together for once." you whisper into the space where you both take a breath and you watch his brows twitch before he moves closer by an inch, putting you almost nose to nose.

"mm, yes. and I shall see to it..." sunday grumbles, "in due time that is." before ultimately rolling onto his back— making sure to pull you with him as you end up pressing into the crook of his neck, half resting on top of his chest as his arm squeezes you into him tightly.

his voice seems quieter now, like he's back on the brink of sleep, "you seem to quite comfortable, after all. a moments rest longer shan't bare too many consequences, should we allow it." his fingers seem to take an almost convincing stance, smoothing their way along your skin in sleep-inducing circles.

although you can't deny that the new position and the close sound of sunday's soft breathing seems to be making your eyelids feel suddenly heavy themselves. its almost hard not too find yourself nuzzling into him, far too comfortable in your own suddenly drowsy state again.

"okay, maybe in a moment then.." your voice sounds, half-conscious as your lashes rest closed with your next blink and despite how tired your lover seems to be, if you were to look at him now you'd see the way he seems to be smiling.

sunday leans over to press his lips against your hairline as his breathing seems to sync with yours, shushing you lightly—

"shh~ now, my angel, we mustn't let this opportunity go amiss."

Sukuna is scary…no doubt. But…but he’s just so cuddly. And warm. You’re telling me with those four arms of his— he’s still not cuddleable? Nonsense.

Allow me to demonstrate— a slightly cold night, but this warm, pink haired beast with four arms is present to hold you. Two of his arms wrapped securely around your back and the other patting your head softly. His lower set of eyes are gazing down and adoring your sleeping form. Your cheek is smushed against that tit muscular pec and you’re in pure bliss and warmth because he’s just like that.

He’s like a warm weighted blanket. And oh, he comes in pink. What more could a girl want?

Dad! Sukuna

Sukuna blinks in surprise at the sight in front of him.

His little brat was undoubtedly a splitting image of him. Of course, she was born with your features as well— something Sukuna adored a lot, but his hair took prominence in her genetics.

But your little girl was currently having an artistic phase. Maybe that explains why she’s covered head to toe in doodles. You’re mad at her because now you’re the one left with having to scrub them off of her, but pause when she stumbles to her father.

The four armed beast looks at her with a raised brow and she simply gives a cheeky smile.

“Twinsies!” She declares. It takes him a moment as he examines the marks she’s made on her face.

She was imitating his very own markings.

Piercing right through his cold heart with her adorable antics is something’s she’s definitely gotten from her mother. In a moment of pride, he scoops her up in his arm with a grin, “twinsies indeed, you little brat.”

He wipes off a smudge of an ink from her chubby cheek with one of his hands and she looks at you from over his shoulder, “mama! Twinsies!”

You nod, holding back tears at the adorable sight, “Yes baby, you look just like papa!”

She smiles proudly and you hide the wet washcloth behind your back, letting them have their little moment.

toji didn’t the remember the last time he had to take care of someone who’s sick. perhaps once or maybe twice, but that was practically an ancient tale from the past.

seeing your frail body tucked under the cover as you breath raggedly, your face flushed red not in the usual way that he loves, no, it only looked like you’re in a lot of pain and he hated that. he put his palm on your forehead, and even an idiot like him knew that no normal human should be this warm.

the coolness of his calloused hand refreshed you a little as you leaned into his touch, chasing it like it’s your only source of comfort. the black-haired man noticed how you clinged to him, keeping his hand there as his thumb rubbed the corner of your eyebrow ever-so-softly. if you decide that his hand that’s so used to killing and doing rough works is helping you, then it’s yours. damn it, he wanted to helpful, even just a little bit.

“head hurts, toji,” you frowned, wanting the incessant pounding in your head to be gone already. “bet it does, pretty girl. what you need?” he kissed your eyelid softly, desperate in needing guidance — some kind of instructions on how he can make you feel better. he lost all confidence in himself at that moment, afraid that his unwarranted clumsy action will upset you. “i don’t know,” you muttered, telling the truth.

“let’s get some food in you, hm? i’ll cook something,” he said as he stroke your hair. “but i don’t wanna get sicker,” you said playfully with whatever energy you had left. toji chuckled, leave it to you to always keep him on his toes. “i make a mean scrambled egg, even you and your bratty ass can’t deny that.” 

“you’re right, my boyfriend is really good at frying egg,” you said teasingly, loving the way his fingers kept weaving through your hair. he saw your grin, his lips stretched on his own. “having fun?” he raised an eyebrow, amused. “a little,” you replied, closing your eyes. toji raises the blanket all the way to your neck. his gentle touches made you sleepy despite the jarring headache.

“love it when you spoil me,” you mumbled, scooting closer to him. “don’t get used to it,” he replied with an easy tone, knowing damn well he will continue to spoil you rotten. his thumb brushed your cheek over and over, it felt blissful. when he was sure you’re off to dreamland he planted a kiss on the side of your head he muttered, “hurts me seeing you like this, baby.” he got up from the bed, already having many list of errand he needed to tick off, such as buying you food and some medicine for you to take. 

he chuckled to himself, his legs was faster before any other thought entered his mind like they got will of their own.

“…got me all soft and shit,” he grumbled to no one exactly, an endearing smile loyal to his face as he had you on your mind.

yet, he didn’t think it was the worst feeling in the world.  it’s up there. maybe next time you even will get him to admit that it’s one of the best.

So I've been reading Powerless by Lauren Roberts.. and it has made me realize that I will never find a man who is in love with me with the way Kai is in love with Paedyn.

Is asking for a love like that, too much to ask? 😭😔

Source

When the baby dragon wants to fly on his own but daddy dragon won’t allow it because his wings are still too small 😔🍼🪽

can i be real with you all. ties are perhaps the most sexual article of clothing a person can wear. like that is just a leash and collar.