Rafah Has Been Ordered To Evacuate…

Hi 👋, My name is Mohammad, and I’m reaching out in a moment of desperate need. I’m a father of three young children living in Gaza, and we are caught in the midst of a catastrophic war. Our home is no longer a safe haven, and the future here seems increasingly uncertain. 💔

I’ve launched a fundraising campaign with the goal of raising $40,000 to relocate my family to a safer place where my children can grow up in peace and have a chance at a brighter future. 🕊️🇵🇸

Unfortunately, my previous fundraising efforts were abruptly halted when my account was terminated without explanation. However, I remain determined to keep fighting for my family’s safety and well-being. 🫶

If you could take a moment to read our story, consider donating, or simply share our campaign with others, it would make an incredible difference. Every act of kindness, no matter how small, brings us one step closer to safety and a new beginning. 🙏

Thank you for your time, compassion, and support. ❤

https://gofund.me/fd1faea2 🔗

https://gofund.me/fd1faea2

Help support for Palestine guys!! It take just a few minutes!!!

He’s so babygirl 🥹

Guys fr fr I wanna write stuff for you but I never know what plz drop stuff in my asks 😭

♡₊˚☀️・₊✧ 𝗻𝗮𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗶'𝘀 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘀𝗼 𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗴 & 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗱𝗶𝗱𝗻'𝘁 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄 ♡₊˚☀️・₊✧

: ̗̀➛ tropes: fem! reader 𖥔 he's obsessed to the max 𖥔 ceo x baker 𖥔 grumpy x sunshine 𖥔 she talks a lot x he listens a lot 𖥔 spoils the literal shit out of you 𖥔 mention of parental death 𖥔 major fluff 𖥔 sexual content in vague details 𖥔 alternate universe 𖥔 super soft nanami 𖥔 close proximity 𖥔 he loves kissing the fuck out of you

: ̗̀➛ words: 7.7k

: ̗̀➛ notes: you guys are so sweet for supporting my toji fanfic which is why i wanted to write another and this time its about my husband, the father of our children, the man who deserves every beautiful thing in this world. if you enjoy my work, please leave a comment, like, and reblog! thank you & ily. enjoy!

Nanami Kento entered your bakery at exactly six o' clock.  

You carefully observed the moments he dedicated to perusing the array of pastries, the vibrant mountain of macaroons, and the freshly baked, warm casse-croûte that you unfailingly prepared for him when he clocked out. There was a tender quality to his countenance, noticeable in the slight release of tension between his brows as the soft, buttery flakes dissolved on his tongue in your presence. Without fail, he consistently left a generous tip in your travel jar, dedicated to a solo trip to Malaysia.

"Did you know they've got this thing about not wearing yellow in Malaysia?" you mentioned during your initial meeting, eyeing the distinctive black-dotted tie worn by the stoic salaryman. "Well, not that your tie would get you in trouble; it's not entirely yellow. In fact, I think it's perfect as it is, just like your hair, which also has a touch of yellow.” 

Please cut your tongue off. 

Anticipating a polite nod and perhaps a slightly regretful five-dollar tip left in the jar, you were taken aback when he queried, “Why is that?” 

“Oh, uh . . . a bunch of protesters wore the color during a demand for their prime minister to step down," you stumbled, feeling a twinge of embarrassment for veering off into an unintentional crash course. Dropping trivia about Malaysia wasn't exactly the same as flirting. "So, it's kind of become a symbolism for protest and, well, threat. I read it in a book once. I don't know if it's a legitimate law, though."

“Do you like reading?” he asked, still interested in conversing with you. “Most people would Google information.” 

“I like reading. It’s easier to retain information that way.” 

Nanami acknowledged your gesture with a nod of gratitude as he accepted the casse-croûte and exited your bakery. Anticipating that he might not return due to his reserved nature and your awkward attempts at compliment-flirting, you were surprised to find that he was, in fact, full of surprises.

Nanami became a regular visitor. Day after day, for the past year, he arrived at precisely six o' clock. He continued his routine, whether he purchased a box of pastries, a pair of bagged bread loaves, or simply a casse-croûte and a small cup of milk coffee. You always prepared his order five minutes ahead of time, just in case you were occupied with other customers.

"Enjoy!" you chirped, casting a warm smile at the customer you just served as the bakery slowly emptied, leaving only Nanami browsing the delightful array of small cakes. "Good evening, Mr. Nanami!"

Nanami raised his head in your direction. "Good evening." He finally settled on the black forest cake from the open freezer and brought it to the counter.

"Special occasion?" you inquired as you rang him out, sneakily not charging him for the casse-croûte and coffee. There was a special occasion of your own that you were eager to share, hanging from the tip of your tongue.

"An intern's birthday."

"Sounds fun!" You had been saving up for your birthday present since summer, and Nanami had played a significant role. "When's your birthday?"

"July third."

Your eyes widened with surprise. "No way! Mine is July sixth. We’re summer babies."

“Happy belated birthday,” he said, fishing for his wallet, gaze barely meeting yours. 

"Same to you." Offering the sandwich and coffee, you extended them towards him. "Consider it a belated birthday treat."

Nanami’s brows crinkled. “I cannot accept.” 

"Why not? It's a gift." You slid the items closer with a subtle nudge, leaving him little room to refuse. "And you've given me a priceless gift, Mr. Nanami." Your eyes hinted at the tip jar's location, which now lay empty. 

“Were you robbed?” he asked, concern evident in his voice. 

“What—? No! Oh my god. You’re so funny.” A chuckle escaped behind your fist, and he observed you momentarily before glancing away. "I'm heading to Malaysia next week!"

Nanami gave a subtle nod. Although his lack of a more animated response disappointed you, you understood that shortness was his nature. "Congratulations.”

"Thank you, Mr. Nanami. Your generous tips really made a difference. They covered half of our trip.”

“Our? It’s not a solo trip?”  

You let out a little nervous laugh. Should you really be telling Nanami about your crippling love life? Would he even be interested? Well, he seemed to listen carefully when you talk. Maybe he wouldn’t care, but you really needed someone to talk to about this. Unfortunately, all your friends were too busy with their marriages to care.

“Well?” Nanami prompted. 

"Right, sorry. It's just—I've actually been seeing someone. Funny enough, we met in a Facebook group for solo travelers. He lives in a nearby town.”

Unexpectedly, Nanami's first question caught you off guard. "Can you trust him?" His concern surfaced, causing you to pause. "I'm only asking because you met this man online. You can't trust strangers on the internet."

"Thank you, Mr. Nanami, but I’m capable enough to know about stranger danger," you said with a funny smile, dismissing his parental concern. "Besides, we’ve gone on a few dates over the past month."

Nanami's frown remained intact. "Correct me if I’m wrong, but are you paying for him, too?"

"Yes."

“Why?” Nanami asked, firmly placing his palms on the counter, making it clear he wasn't leaving until he was convinced you wouldn't get in trouble during your Malaysian adventure.

"What do you mean 'why'?"

His mouth opened but then closed into a thin line, his forehead lines deepening. "It’s not my place to tell you what’s right and what isn’t—"

"Yes, you’re right about that," you interrupted.

"—but this is bordering on recklessness. You cannot use your trip’s money to pay for a man you’ve known for a mere month. Why is he even in the traveler’s group if he cannot afford to pay for himself?"

"Mr. Nan—"

"You are being scammed." 

Your teeth clenched together. You rarely got impatient. Years in the hospitality industry and dealing with misogynistic tenants didn't break you. Even setting up your bakery and almost draining your savings didn't dim your optimism. 

But getting scolded by someone who barely spoke more than five sentences to you in a whole year of being a regular? That's pushing it.

He didn't know you or Toji, the guy you're seeing. He didn’t understand how much you appreciated him accompanying you. So what if you covered his share of the trip expenses? Toji promised to pay you back, and he's been paying the bills for your dates. They might not be fancy, but it's the gesture that matters.

Sure, Nanami chipped in some money, and you're thankful for that. But he has no right to question you. Other people also contributed to your travel fund; it's not like he single-handedly financed the whole trip. You appreciated his support, but he was not in a position to lecture you.

With a sigh, you managed to contain your frustration and said, "Have a great rest of your night, Mr. Nanami.”

Nanami's frustration was palpable as he stood firm, his gaze piercing through the windows of your soul. “I suggest you take my advice into serious consideration. It would greatly upset me if you had the chance to visit one of your favorite countries taken from you.” 

You didn't bother watching him go. Instead, your discovery awaited you at the counter—the money for the coffee and casse-croûte lay there, accompanied by a crumpled yellow note that had slipped to the floor. Moving around the counter, you picked it up and smoothed out its wrinkles.

What greeted you was your own name scrawled across the sticky note, repeated around fifty times, the letters overlapping in a chaotic dance. Some were hastily scratched out, while others were executed with perfect cursive precision. You didn’t know what to make of it.

During your confusion, a new customer walked in. Quickly, you pocketed the note, focused on carrying on with your day despite the lingering frustration that Nanami's cryptic message had left in its wake.

Toji never showed up.

You waited for him for two agonizing hours, extending the torture even more after your flight had taken off. It dawned on you that he likely didn't bother getting a ticket. He probably pocketed the money you sent him and vanished into thin air. Every attempt to reach him failed miserably—your calls were forwarded, and the fifth one hammered the heartbreaking truth that he had blocked your number. To compound your misery, you sent him a string of text messages that refused to deliver your pain. You didn't even know where he lived, as your encounters were always in the obscure locations of your budgeted dates.

The thought of reporting him to the police crossed your mind, accusing him of theft, but the lack of photographic evidence left you helpless. To make matters worse, he hated taking pictures, and you were uncertain if the name he provided was even real. All that remained was a flicker of hope that you might cross paths with the bastard and unleash your pent-up rage with a hard kick to his dick. 

With a heavy heart, you gathered your strength, brushed away the tears until not a single trace remained on your lashes, and lugged your suitcase and carry-on outside the airport, hoping to hail a cab.

The idea of facing the upcoming days at work felt agonizing, goading you to spend them in the isolation of your shabby apartment. You were engrossed in a depressing routine—microwaved dinners, aimless hours on the couch, and a marathon of old cable TV shows.

As hunger struck again, you contemplated your options. Baking seemed like a possibility, but motivation had abandoned you. Pasta could be an option, but the lack of noodles and tomato sauce made it impractical. So, you settled for the one thing that required no ingredients: crying.

At least that was free. 

Despite the inner turmoil, you mustered the strength to shoulder your overcoat, sporting your fleece pajamas printed with candy canes and well-worn second-hand boots. 

The short walk to the corner store felt longer than usual, the biting cold making you clutch your threadbare coat tighter. Your teeth chattered in protest as you entered, and the rush of warm air was a momentary relief against the chill. Fingers numb, you mindlessly reached for familiar comfort snacks—chips, chocolate milk, anything to dull the ache.

A hand much larger than yours beat you to the last packet of croissants.

“Ah, sorry.” You let it go. “All yours—” You choked as you looked up, and up, at Nanami staring at you wide-eyed, his hazel eyes flickering at a rapid speed as if he were hallucinating your presence. Your face flushed with embarrassment, and the weight of the past five days crammed upon you—his uncanny prediction, your own naivety, and the sting of being swindled. “Mr. Nanami . . . ”

“Aren’t you supposed to be in—”

“Good night.”

With a dismissive shake of your head, you left the basket on the counter, mumbled a quick apology, and retreated back into the biting cold. 

You’ve faced tons of humiliating moments—slipping in front of customers, your purse strap getting snagged in a door and dragging you back, and that one unforgettable instance when a little boy labeled your eyebrows as caterpillars in front of a line of onlookers. Yet, none of those incidents could hold a candle to the awkwardness of bumping into the very man who had warned you about the ill-fated choice of paying for a stranger's trip—stranger now—when it was supposed to be your trip. 

You felt a firm grip on your wrist, making your restless pacing suddenly stop.

Startled, you turned around to find a pair of expressionless hazel eyes and a slightly out-of-breath figure. Now is not the time to ogle Mr. Nanami’s broad shoulders, you idiot!

Releasing your wrist, he handed over a white, plastic bag. With a raised eyebrow, you peered inside to inspect its contents. It held everything from your shopping basket, including the last packet of croissants. Even more unexpected, he had paid for it all. 

“I’ll pay you back tomorrow,” you assured, your eyes already scanning for the nearest ATM, just in case you forgot. "But for now." You pulled out the packaged croissants and extended them toward him. Your body was shaking, not because of November but because of how you were scammed after being forewarned by Nanami. “Please. Take it.” 

He took your small hand in both of his, the warmth immediately melting the tension in your body. “So cold.” 

A soft giggle escaped you at the obvious observation, and you placed your free hand on top of his. "So warm." Sniffling, tears welled up in your eyes. "You know what else is warm? The sun. And it's yellow. It's so yellow."

“Factually speaking, it is white.” 

You wiped an arm across your nose. “What?” 

“The sun. It’s white. It’s only yellow in children's books.” 

You weren't about to argue with the guy who vindicated your slip-ups. Still, given the circumstances, you wished he'd soften the bluntness and let you bask in the illusion that the sun was a simple shade of yellow.

"I've always loved the color yellow," you mumbled. "Maybe getting scammed was a blessing. I'd probably get fined for wearing yellow otherwise. I couldn't afford to mess up on my trip. Besides, it all depends on the shade, right? Imagine how many fines I'd rack up just testing which shade of yellow suits me—"

Nanami tugged you close, capturing your lips with his.

A sharp intake of breath filled your lungs, eyes widening in surprise. Instinctively, your hands pushed him away, fingers grazing your tingling lips.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “Fuck. I’m so sorry.” 

“No, it’s okay. Don’t—Don’t worry. About it.” You tucked your lips in and tasted chocolate and mint—two of your favorite combinations. Nanami always seemed like the kind of man who would hate both flavors independently and dependently. “You’re okay. I mean—You’re okay in general. You’re not okay with kissing. You’re probably great, I’m sure.” Your tongue traced the curve of your lower lip, and Nanami’s eyes followed the motion. “Oh, God. I’m so sorry.” 

You walked up to him, grabbed the lapels of his coat, and tugged him down a notch, your lips colliding with his. 

Nanami's touch was calculated, his hand sailing onto your cheek, feeding warmth to your cold ear before vanishing into the labyrinth of your hair. Simultaneously, the other serpentined to the small of your back, his magnetic energy drawing you snugly against his chest. His warm tongue delicately swept across your lower lip, an unspoken cue that encouraged you to part your lips in response.

Nanami deepened the kiss, your tongues stroking against one another feverishly as if it were your last kiss. Who knows? Maybe it could’ve been. But the way he kissed with such desperation, releasing soft moans, not allowing you a moment to catch your breath, made you think that maybe this was just the start.

And you kissed him back just as needy.

If your hands slightly released their hold on his lapels, you'd gently cup the sides of his neck, rising on your tiptoes. And if your calves protested, you'd draw him down, wrapping your arms around his neck, your fingers entwining in his pale, golden locks. The taste of mint chocolate lingered on your lips, and a smile curved on your mouth as he stole a quick peck, pulling back just to gaze into your eyes for a moment before kissing you again.

You’re not sure how long you two stood and kissed there. Nanami was the one who always took the lead, savoring the taste of your pink, tender tongue, kissing your chilly cheeks and dewy eyes. The desire for each other made it hard to break away, yet the need for a breath of air was undeniable.

Finally, you decided to be the one to step back, signalling the end of your first kiss with him.

Your bottom lip tingled as you pulled it in, jaw aching from the infectious smile that had taken over your face. You couldn't help stealing glances at the tall man before you, who returned your gaze with a soft, almost imperceptible grin. Yet, in his eyes, under the gentle glow of the streetlight, you could see the excitement and joy of kissing you, twinkling brightly.

“I'm gonna—”

“I should—”

Both of you sighed; you with a soft chuckle, and him with a discreet throat-clearing.

“I've already missed quite a few workdays,” you said. “Gotta earn that dough if I want to make next month’s rent.” Nanami didn’t quite catch your bakery pun, but he nodded in agreement.

“Right,” you murmured, subtly veering to the side, putting on a little show as you started to walk away. You admitted it—you were a hopeless romantic. You secretly hoped for him to steal a kiss on your cheek and watch until you safely disappeared around the corner. “I’m off now.”

“Goodnight,” Nanami replied, subtly licking his lips for the sixteenth time. Yes, you were keeping count. 

“Night-night.” 

Nanami strolled down his end of the sidewalk. You followed suit, turning down your street. 

Luck had only sometimes been on your side when it came to men and their romantic gestures. Oh well. At least you experienced a passionate kiss from one of your favorite customers. Asking for more seemed a bit too much—

A hand gently pressed against your back, and as you turned, it gracefully curved around your waist, drawing you in. Nanami caught your gasp and kissed you with an urgency that doubled, holding onto you as if his life depended on it, lifting you off your toes. Three sweet pecks later, he released you, both of your faces flushed.

"Get home safely," he whispered, walking away without a second glance.

That night, you couldn't help but giggle into your mascara-stained pillow.

The morning after, you were a whirlwind of joy and light, twirling through the bakery with trays of freshly baked pastries, replenishing boxes and take-out essentials. You greeted customers with an extra dose of sweetness, and to top it off, you even handed out a tray of delectable chocolate jam cookies. And you wore a yellow bow in your hair. 

The oven beeped as the casse-croûtes finished baking, signaling their readiness for Nanami's arrival in just five minutes. You took special care in preparing his milk coffee, indulging in a quiet chuckle at your undeniable favoritism. Though the neighborhood bakery wasn't bustling with a large customer base, your attention was solely dedicated to him—your only regular as everyone else buzzed in the distant city an hour away.

With his coffee prepared and two casse-croûtes packed, you added a chocolate-mint cookie to the bag. Then, you decided to rearrange the shelves of gift baskets to pass the time. 

Setting up the ladder, you ascended the shaky steps until you were eye to eye with the fifth shelf. Heights were never your forte, which, in hindsight, was another reason why flying to Malaysia was out of the question. The more you thought about being scammed, the more your heart wrenched from your lost trip. You’d again brought out your tip jar and prayed the odds were in your favor. Hell, maybe you’d ask Nanami to join you if you decided to take your relationship to the next level. 

As you secured the bow on the basket, your gaze landed on the clock—6:30 p.m., and Nanami was a no-show. 

Anxiety surged through you in an instant.

Did he leave you hanging? Maybe that kiss was a turnoff, and he chose to disappear rather than be upfront about finding you too overwhelming. Did your breath smell bad? Were you a terrible kisser? Or, worse, did something happen to him?

A torrent of worries flooded your mind, breaking through like a burst dam. Each imagined scenario seemed more nightmarish than the last, causing your head to spin. Recent events, like Toji's betrayal, fueled this self-doubt, made you question your intuition. While Nanami was clearly wealthy, consistently tipping a twenty each day, you found yourself questioning whether he had plans to use you for something else. As if that weren't enough, doubts crept in about your appearance and your optimistic, extroverted personality.

It started to make sense, didn't it? Nanami led a tranquil life, sticking to a routine of work and home, while you were a whirlwind of spontaneity—constantly buzzing with new ideas and discussions, unable to sit still or resist laughter at the silliest jokes. Everything seemed to fascinate you, yet nothing appeared to faze him. How could you have been so naive to entertain the thought—

“Good evening.” 

“Ah!” you yelped at the sudden baritone intruding into your thoughts. Your foot, betrayed by the unexpected intrusion, lost its balance on the step. Your arms flailed in a desperate attempt to find stability as you teetered backward, the impending hazard of a severe concussion and potential spinal cord injury looming.

But just as you were prepared to shake hands with God, Nanami's powerful arms swooped in at the last possible moment. With a secure hold, he cradled you in a bridal style, and you clung to him like a shaking puppy, arms looped around his neck.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his breath slightly labored.

You gingerly peeled one eye open to peek at him. His expression was one of calm disorientation; eyebrows knit together while his lips maintained a straight, tight line.

"Yes," you whispered, soothed by his timely intervention.

Nanami steadied you back onto your feet but maintained a firm grip on your elbows. “Look at me.” As you did, he inspected each eye closely while keeping his hand steady on your left cheek. He checked below your jaw, down to your dusty palms, which he cleaned with his silk handkerchief. He also patted down your tousled hair. "Are you sure you're okay?"

“Mm-hmm.” You could cry from how gentle he was with you. “A-Are you okay?” 

“I am now.” He took a composed breath and effortlessly retrieved his suitcase from the floor, brushing off invisible dust. “I apologize for being late. My . . . car broke down.” 

"What? Oh my god! Do you need me to give you my mechanic's number? I promise he's not as bad as the Google reviews say. He's actually quite a sweet man. And he gives me a friends and family discount because my father was close with him." You beamed, and Nanami squinted his eyes as if the brightness of your smile momentarily blinded him, but he tried his best to reciprocate.

“Do your parents live here?” 

You shook your head. “They passed away a while ago.” 

“I apologize.” 

"Don't be." You quickly switched subjects by fluttering towards the counter to pick up his items. “Tell me how your coffee tastes.” You turned around, adding, “I switched to a new brand of milk—”

Nanami pressed his lips against yours, momentarily freezing you. His seamless transition afterward could have fooled an onlooker into thinking you'd been married for years. "Thank you.” He took a sip and nodded thoughtfully. “It’s great. Everything you make is great.” 

“Thanks,” you mumbled, sudden shyness enveloping you. From the kiss? The compliment? Him? You didn’t know at all. “Do you still need me to give you the mechanic’s number?” 

“It’s all right. I had it fixed. Minor battery issue, that’s all.” 

“Ah, okay. See, that’s why I prefer to walk.” 

Nanami glanced elsewhere, nodding. “Then, would you like to walk with me after you’ve closed?” 

“Oh.” A subtle flicker of surprise crossed your features. Nonchalantly, you brushed a strand of hair behind your ear before smiling warmly. “Of course, yes. I’d love to go on a walk with you. Where are we going? There are lots of cafés in a nearby shopping district. I know all the best places to take you to.” A grave thought struck you just then. “Oh, actually. Hmm.” 

Curious, he tilted his head down, meeting your worried gaze. "What is it?"

"Well," you began, your thoughts taking a cautious turn, "you probably have a set time to be home unless you live nearby. In that case, we could spend the entire evening strolling around. Only if you're interested, of course."

Nanami’s lips twitched. “I live nearby.” 

“Where?” You weren’t ashamed to have been so upfront. It was more of a precautionary measure. 

And he didn't seem bothered, quickly revealing the familiar neighborhood you instantly recognized. It was a fifteen-minute walk from your own place.

"May I step out momentarily to make a call?" Nanami asked, pulling out his phone. It was the latest model you noticed—one that came out last week and mocked your own that was five versions older. “It will be quick.” 

“By all means.” You had to fix your hair and make-up anyway. 

Nanami nodded and exited the shop, leaving you to flee behind the counter. As you crouched down to check yourself in the small mirror tucked away in the lower drawer, you couldn't help but feel a warmth on your face from the unexpected collapse, the sweet, brief kiss, and his impeccable navy blue suit decorated with yellow cufflinks. Maybe a café was too casual for him; a restaurant might have been a more suitable choice. An expensive choice. However, you were adamant about not letting Nanami cover the entire cost.

Upon his return, five minutes later, you both settled at one of the three round tables in your bakery (he even pulled out your chair for you). Sipping on your coffees and enjoying the casse-croûtes and chocolate pastries, the conversation seemed somewhat one-sided. Yet, Nanami's aloof demeanor never made you feel inferior for dominating the dialogue. He listened to every word and vowel with his undivided attention, nodding alongside and adding in short sentences when he could relate to your childhood shenanigans. 

"Wait," he interrupted, causing you to halt in your tracks. The sun cast a warm glow on his face, making his eyes narrow into slits, but God did he look handsome. He extended his hand and brushed a thumb near your lips, discovering a small chocolate smudge. Swiftly, he licked it clean and tidied up the area around your lips with a napkin. "Beautiful."

“What?” 

Nanami was a deer in headlights. He sunk his head, beating himself up from murmuring his thoughts aloud—at least, that’s what you concluded. "You look beautiful," he declared with more assurance, his gaze on your face. "You are beautiful, Y/N."

Oh, my. 

Your heart was going to claw itself out of your chest. You could cook an egg on your face from how heated it had gotten. In fact, you were burning hotter than the sun, which continuously made him squint and blink. “Thank you.” 

He nodded twice, finishing the remnants of his coffee. Rising, he disposed of the cups and wrappers in the garbage bin, then extended a hand to help you stand. "I'll wait outside while you close up."

At a lightning pace, you ensured that everything in the bakery was safely unplugged and shut off. Grabbing your purse, you gave yourself a quick once-over in the mirror, adjusting your face and hair. Stepping outside, you meticulously locked the door and gates.

Without a word, Nanami entwined his fingers with yours, causing you to smile like an idiot at him. He maintained a straight, vigilant gaze, seemingly unresponsive as you wrapped yourself around his arm. A subtle smirk tugged at your lips when you felt his muscles flex.

You walked for hours, café-hopping and trying pastries, baked goods, and sweet drinks. Every time Nanami attempted to cover the expenses with his cash, you scolded him, insisting that since you had suggested the place, you should be the one to pay. It was a rule you had read about online, and all your friends stuck to it religiously. The thought of Nanami spending his hard-earned money on your interests made you feel incredibly guilty.

As a matter of fact, you were feeling guilty about tons of things. He told you he worked at an investment firm, which meant it was a nine-to-five, likely sporting a migraine he kept hidden, and now he was being dragged around the shopping district by you, forced to listen to you because he was a man who didn’t complain, wouldn’t complain, and long, story short, you wanted to die. 

“Kento,” you muttered, removing your hand from his, goosebumps rippling on your skin. 

“Yes, darling?” 

Your chest felt like it was being clenched in a fist. “I'm . . . I’m sorry.” 

“For what?” 

“For making you do all this. For making you pay for everything. For dragging you around when you're probably on the verge of exhaustion." Avoiding his gaze, you fixed your eyes on the concrete beneath you. “I know I can be too much sometimes—well, all the time.” A self-deprecating chuckle escaped your lips. "Exes in my past relationships have made it clear. I get overly excited easily, crave attention like one needs oxygen, trust people too easily to the point of getting scammed, and, well, I don't bring anything particularly special to the table. I'm sorry, Kento. Maybe it's best if we just stay friends?”

Nanami’s soft fingers lifted your chin up. Your words absolutely shattered his face, leaving you to feel worse than before. His lips were parted into a frown, his brows were scrunched up, brown irises flickering like he couldn’t believe you said that. This was the most reaction he had given you in the year that you’ve known him. 

“No,” he said. 

You blinked the tears gathered at your waterline. “No?” 

“No.” Nanami took a calming breath, closing his eyes. His forehead gently pressed against yours. “Please, let me be selfish for this once. For you. I can’t let you go—I won’t let you go."

"Kento—"

"I want to do this, Y/N. I want to pay for everything. I want you to drag me around because I’ll never be too tired for you.” Nanami drew back and cradled your sobbing face in his large hands. “I know I fail to show it, darling, but I love your excitement. I love paying attention to every detail of you because you’ve become my oxygen source. You’re a good, kindhearted woman, and anyone would be lucky to be seen by you. And you don’t have to bring anything to the table because there isn’t one dividing us, keeping us lengths apart.” His lips brushed your forehead, imprinting his words into your mind. "I want us to be more than just friends. I want us to be best friends. Lovers. In this life and the ones that follow."

You could explode. 

Your arms instinctively wrapped around his neck, seeking support as if the ground beneath you was about to crumble. Yet, you knew he would catch you, just as before. He was so real, embracing you wholly, both of you breathing in each other's scents to confirm a human like this could exist. How grateful you were he stumbled into your bakery that one rainy night, and how grateful he was that you offered him free coffee and a casse-croûte while he was freezing and trembling. His presence brought life to your bakery, gave you something to look forward to when you were at your lowest, and you gave him . . . everything. You were his everything since the first day. 

As the shared silence lingered, Nanami's phone shattered the moment, its noisy ring cutting through the haze. You instinctively stepped back, but he clung to your hand as if afraid you might slip away.

Never, Nanami Kento. You’re stuck with me. 

When he took out his phone, you caught a glimpse of the contact name: Satoru (assistant). 

Before you could process the fact Nanami had an assistant, he swiped right. “Yeah?” 

The voice on the other end resonated with loud cheerfulness in the quiet alleyway. Nanami half-rolled his eyes, letting out an exasperated sigh. “Very well. Leave it there. I’ll be there when I want to.” 

The assistant chuckled and sang his goodbye, the cheerful tone abruptly cutting off as Nanami ended the call and slid his phone back into his pocket.

“Do all stockbrokers have assistants?” 

He tilted his head. “I’m not a stockbroker.” 

“Oh? I’m sorry. I assumed because you worked at an investment firm.” 

“Yes, I was a stockbroker.” He nodded, warming your hand in his, then casually added, “But I own a firm now.” 

Your brows hit your hairline. “That’s amazing!” 

“Thank you. We have several locations around the country. Kento Investments. Have you heard of it?” 

Heard of it? You were a client some time ago when you were starting your bakery. All you encountered were glowing reviews about their ethical practices, a refreshing leave from the scheming ways of most investment firms that had previously taken advantage of you. It stood out as the industry leader in your research, and the team was lovely in guiding you through the process, so much so that you even invited them to your grand opening.

"Ah, you have." Nanami grinned, gently tilting your chin upward and closing your gaping mouth. "Therefore, my darling, don't feel guilty about me covering the expenses. I'm quite secure in my position to support both of us for centuries."

All you could manage was a disbelieving chuckle as you rested your forehead against his chest. Taking it as an invitation, he embraced you, crowning you with kisses. 

Lifting your head, you said, "There's something I want to get for you."

"What is it?"

Hand-in-hand, you pulled him back toward the bustling district, the sound of his deep laughter echoing in the air. Your own laughter naturally joined in.

As you strolled past a vendor selling accessories, your attention was drawn to an item you had briefly noticed earlier in your walk. Although you planned to purchase it the following day and surprise him in the afternoon, tonight felt like the perfect moment.

Politely approaching the elderly vendor, you asked, "Could I please try those on?" He handed you a pair of round sunglasses with a green tint to the lenses. Standing on your toes, you carefully placed the glasses on Nanami's nose, adjusting them to sit perfectly on the bridge. The sides of the spectacles featured a stylish steampunk design that complemented his narrow, sharp features. "Handsome.”

"I'll take it.” Nanami reached for his wallet. However, you were one step ahead, swiftly bringing out the spare change you had set aside in your coat pocket. You had already calculated the price, ready to outsmart him in this little game of charity.

“Y/N.” 

“Thank you,” you said to the shop vendor, ignoring Nanami’s stare. 

“Y/N.” 

“Yes, darling?" You looped around his arm and began your stroll down the sidewalk. “Oh, come on. Let me be selfish and treat you once in a while.” You cut off his protests with a kiss. 

He surrendered instantly. 

Over the next four weeks, you didn’t realize how quickly you’d become comfortable with Nanami. Like clockwork, he would arrive at your bakery, patiently occupying a table until your duties with customers or decorating displays finished. Now resembling a vibrant florist shop, the bakery owed its transformation to Nanami's thoughtful gestures—bouquets of flowers in every shade of yellow, orange, and white became an amusing routine. As you arranged them in vases, you would burst into fits of giggles like a maniac. 

You and him were like a Venn diagram, overlapping in unexpected places. He enjoyed non-fiction, classics, and history books; you immersed yourself in the world of romance and mystery novels. TV nights were a compromise between his love for documentaries and your penchant for anything sappy on Netflix, occasionally spicing things up with a true-crime documentary. His fascination with astronomy met your fixation with astrology, and surprisingly, he didn't scoff when you read the lines on his palms. Instead, he appreciated it just as much as you cherished his nightly photos of the moon and his ability to name the stars above.

At least, you were both Team Cats.

Nanami introduced you to his friends, including his quirky assistant Gojo, who had a habit of shamelessly flirting with you, seemingly just to get under Nanami's skin. However, your boyfriend was secure enough not to let it bother him. Yet, a trace of possessiveness would emerge during sex—when the two of you were entwined in bed, bodies bared and bathed in the aftermath of shared sweat.

Exiting the restaurant after a delightful dinner date, Nanami turned to you and suggested, "I'd like to invite you to my home tonight."

Finally, you thought, resisting the urge to dip your toes into the topic of visiting his home, especially considering he had been a frequent guest at yours.

The fact that he lived nearby had always puzzled you; he mentioned it casually yet never extended an invitation for a simple coffee or a chat on his welcome mat. Weekends saw him working from your living room, staying overnight, but on weekdays, he'd only spend a brief hour or two with you before heading home, a practice that seemed counterintuitive given his closeness. Despite the confusion, you hesitated to jeopardize your relationship by fishing too deeply.

So far, Nanami hadn't given you any reason to doubt him.

"Are you sure?" you asked cautiously.

"Absolutely, darling.” Nanami took your hand and planted a small kiss on the back of it. "I apologize for the delay. I've been having it . . ." He casually flicked up his sunglasses that had slipped. ". . . renovated."

“Oh, I see. Well, in that case, I’d love to!” 

Nanami nodded and leaned down to kiss your cheek. “Thank you for being so patient. I know it was eating you alive. You're not exactly the master of hiding your emotions.” He gave you a small smile and kissed your cheek again. 

You responded with a smile that crinkled your nose. "Just a bit anxious, that's all."

"Understandable.” He guided you toward his neighbourhood, exchanging a warm smile as you nestled against his arm. Observing the goosebumps on your skin and the faint shivers, he realized you had forgotten your cardigan. Without hesitation, he removed his blazer and draped it around your shoulders, helping you slip your arms through the sleeves and buttoning it up.

You took a deep breath, inhaling the pleasant scent from the collars. "You always smell so good."

Nanami bent down, kissing the side of your neck right above your racing pulse. "As do you," he murmured against your skin. "Always."

“Gosh, you're so flirty,” you whispered, wrapping your arms around his midsection and burying your face in his chest.

“Come on now.” 

You walked for another ten minutes, taking a five-minute pit stop to pet a stray cat before stopping in front of a towering residence building. It was one of those extravagant ones boasting a fountain in the lobby and a vigilant security guard who greeted Nanami with a two-finger salute.

Hand on your back, Nanami guided you toward the elevator with mirrors on all sides.

He exuded an air of sophistication in his neatly rolled-up black dress shirt, complemented by beige pants. His pale, blond hair was slicked back, a Rolex clasped his wrist, and veins corded his well-defined forearms. The sunglasses you had given him rested atop his head. 

As Nanami caught your eyes on the reflective surfaces, a sudden blush warmed your cheeks. “What is it?” 

“Nothing,” you whispered, fingers idly playing with the golden butterfly bracelet he had given you on the night he asked you to be his girlfriend. “I was just . . . God, you’re so beautiful. Sometimes, I think I’m dreaming of you. And I don’t want to wake up from it.” 

Nanami released his grip on your hand, wrapping his arm around your waist. He tilted your chin upward and planted a lecherous kiss on your lips. As you stumbled backward, your back met the cool surface of a mirror, and you clung to his biceps. He continued kissing your jaw and nibbling at your neck.

“Ken—Wait, there’s a camera!” 

“I own the building.” 

Without allowing you to react, he kissed you fervently, his hands framing your face and his knee pressing between your legs. Your hips ground against the muscled surface, creating a heated friction that drew a moan from him.

The elevator dinged, signaling its arrival, but Nanami was undeterred. He refused to break the kiss. Lifting you effortlessly, he cradled you with a single forearm beneath your backside and your arms encircling his neck. Laughter echoed as you entered directly into the main corridor of his penthouse.

“Your front door is an elevator?” You marveled with an open jaw. 

“Yes, it seems so.”

Oh, how you loved his monotonous replies. 

Nanami gently placed you onto the expansive white surface of his couch, smoothly moving over your body to continue. 

“I knew you were a clean freak,” you said between his kisses, “but your penthouse looks like it was bought this morning.” 

“Two weeks ago.” He kisses down your neck, sideways toward your left shoulder. “That’s why I waited to invite you. Gojo was having the place decorated. I've installed a library for you, too. We can go book-shopping this weekend.” 

"Wait, what?" You pushed him back by his chest, incredulous. "Hold on, hold on, hold on. You mean to tell me you moved in just two weeks ago?"

"Yes," he answered, tilting his head slightly perplexedly. "When you asked about my residence, I panicked and couldn't come up with a proper answer, fearing you might decline my invitation for a walk. So, I bought this building from the previous owner on the spot. There are also commercial benefits. Quite a strategic move, if you ask me." With that, Nanami resumed his attention, focusing on kissing your collarbones and skillfully lowering your dress, exposing your chest to him.

But you were still stuck on the subject like a pesky fruit fly. “But you don’t live here?” 

“I don’t.” His mouth brushed over the mound of your left breast. “I live in Shibuya.” 

“Shibuya? Kento, that’s an hour and a half away!"

"Hmm." He glanced up, mouth sucking at your nipple.

"You've been faithfully coming to my city every single day, all the way from Shibuya, for a whole year? You've been burning all that gas just to be with me?"

He broke away to say, "Gojo drives me occasionally," and switched to your right breast.

"Nanami Kento, are you out of your mind?"

Finally, he released you and sighed. "I fail to see the issue here." He appeared so innocent, with his moist lips, tousled hair, and a crumpled dress shirt. 

You hurriedly sat up, readjusting your dress, which seemed to displease him. "I'm at a loss for words." Your gaze caught the weariness etched on his face, the bags under his eyes, the slow, heavy blinks signaling his desperate need for sleep. "You haven't actually been living here, have you?"

Upon hearing that, Nanami let out a weary sigh. "I do it when I'm too drained to make the drive back on weekdays."

As the details of his schedule fell into place, you flinched inwardly. He would rise at the crack of dawn, dedicate endless hours to handling clients at the office, and then endure a lengthy drive to your city, only to spend his evenings with you before leaving around midnight to return to Shibuya. The only time he would stay overnight at your place was on Saturdays, and he would depart early on Sundays for work. And all this time, you had believed he had an office in your city.

Oh, God. 

You loved him. 

You loved him so much.

Tears welled up in your eyes at the realization of just how much he loved you. The man had gone so far as to purchase an entire building in your city just to be closer to you. He showered you with affection at every opportunity, devoted his alone time to you with undivided attention and mind-blowing orgasms, and his bank transactions were probably dedicated to you. 

“I don’t deserve your kindness,” you whispered. 

“Neither did I the night when we met.” Nanami’s words always had a comforting effect on you. He gently pulled you onto his lap, and you curled up like a fetus, planting a kiss on his cheekbone. “I’ve loved you for a very long time, Y/N. I love . . . God, I love you so much. I didn't realize I was capable of feeling this much love for another human until I met you. It was all locked up inside me, and you held the key all along, darling." Leaning forward, he smoothly swept his blazer and delved into the pocket, revealing a small yellow box. With trembling hands, you accepted it and opened it to find a petite, golden key inside. “Our front door is an elevator.” 

Your breath hitched. “What?” 

“Move in with me.” 

“Kento—”

“I know. I know it's quite early to discuss this, and I want to give you the space and time to consider it. As you mentioned, your lease ends next month, and I'll officially be transitioning to remote work with a few business trips every other week. It would mean a lot to me if you decided to join me on those trips." He gently placed the key in your hand, kissing your fist. "I'm scheduled to travel to Malaysia next month."

Overpowered with emotion, you choked out a sob and immediately lunged at him with a hug, causing both of you to stumble backward as he wrapped his arms around your waist. He loved you. He wanted you to move in with him. He wanted to travel with you, starting with Malaysia. Suddenly, the tips he left in your jar took on a deeper significance, backing the idea that you weren't meant to journey alone, why you weren’t meant to go with that swindling bastard. As Nanami's gestures of kindness and service became increasingly evident, your tears welled up, choking him in a tight embrace that eventually had him laughing.

Last November, Nanami Kento had stepped into your small bakery, raindrops clinging to him, unknowingly marking his permanent presence in your life.

I wanna eat him up omg

Cursed Promises

Pairings: Sukuna x Fem reader

CW: This chap, fingering, cunnilingus, dirty talk, Sukuna calls you little bunny lmao, soft Sukuna in places, reader is a lil innocent thing, gonna get A LOT freakier as we go, true form Sukuna

Summary: You have been promised to Ryomen Sukuna, King of curses, for as long as you've been alive, ostracized from your village, 'special'. Now you are to marry him, sight unseen. People everywhere fear him, but will you find yourself intrigued by him. Just who is the King of Curses to his new wife? Arranged marriage au

A/N: Finally writing Sukuna oof I'm nervous aha- SMUT with feelings. Gonna be like four parts to this, so a short fic! Monsterfking and fluff lol- Taglist open <3 Comments/ reblogs appreciated ❤️

Part One

Today, you are to marry King Ryomen Sukuna, the demon king of curses, you’ve known this your whole life, this is what you were chosen for. The special girl in your village raised to one day be his bride, however you did not feel special growing up, if anything you were just different. You could not even play with other children normally, you had to have special care taken, and others whispered of you.

You were now twenty years old, the wedding was supposed to be a couple of years ago, but was put off due to Sukuna being away during a war, battling and being gone for long. He was now back, and claiming what was his, though you had never even met him, you had heard the tales, the frightening ones of him, how he ransacked villages, ended lives.

Your village was protected and saved because of you, as if you’re a sacrificial lamb being led to the slaughter, a thing to be whispered of, because you alone possess energy, energy you truly have no clue of, but it makes you special. You now are standing in the most beautiful and elegant robes, everyone was speaking of your beauty, smiling at you, but you saw it, the fear in their eyes.

The tears in your mother’s eyes, and the sullen look on your father’s face, even your terrified little siblings, and you have to wonder, is he so terrible and cruel? And is your life over already? You take several breaths, clutching the flowers in your hand so tightly a thorn pricks your finger, crimson blood dripping down.

You peer at the finger, sighing now, inside the high castle walls of the king, contemplating how everything had happened so quickly. Even knowing your life belonged to him, you still lived relatively normal, until that royal emissary had come, and told you now was the time, the great honor bestowed upon you.

The way they speak of him… Would you even survive?

Your steps feel heavy as you walk through the halls of the palace, your heels clicking on stone floors, decked out in royal, beautiful robes, guards on the other side of you, for if you choose to run you will be captured. You knew that, and had no intention of running, for you want your family and the village to be safe, even if they seemingly threw you to the wolves.

Or, wolf that is.

Your heart beating a frantic rhythm in your chest, you try to stop your heavy breaths, to slow them, as the guards open the ornate doors, revealing the enormous room before you, where many have gathered to see. You look down at the floor beneath you, trembling at the thought, feeling his immense presence before you even look upon him.

It was as if the entire room trembled in fear from him, and you could feel it, his gaze upon you, as you continued to step slowly, one foot in front of the other, now the eyes of everyone in the room were on you. You feel the weight of this arranged marriage heavy on your shoulders, the fate of so many depend on it.

You finally get closer and look up slowly, studying his form in his white robes, thick and muscled and so tall, so big he towers over everyone. You trail your gaze up his broad chest, to his four broad arms, the veins wrapping around each forearm, huge hands on each one with long black nails, like daggers. You nearly trip then, and one of his large hands grasps your waist, taking it over like you’re nothing.

You’re shaking now, eyes darting up to his face, an arrogant smirk on it, and ruby red eyes staring down at you. Four of those eyes, assessing you in that gown, his long fingers curling at the nip of your waist, burning you through the robes. His presence is so intimidating and intense, but…

You’re not scared?

His hand feels so… you cannot describe it, the burn of his touch, the insane feelings you’re having all at once, like you can’t breathe. He’s so huge everyone has to crank their necks, you feel so small in his grasp, next to him, barely reaching his chest, which you see somewhat from the opening of his robes, the strong muscles and taut skin, before darting back to his face.

“Tch, clumsy girl.” He huffs, setting you in front of him now, and you curtsey low in your robes, eyes down.

“Forgive me, my King.” You murmur, trying to be obedient, it’s what you were taught, right? He scoffs, crossing one set of his arms, tilting his head at you, he has shockingly light pink hair, a color you’ve never seen, raising a dark arrogant brow, the candles are flickering and casting shadows in the grand hall, making him look even more intimidating.

“Hmm.” Is all he responds, taking your hand in one of his, it absolutely swallows yours, and you both turn to look at the orator, who now will start the ceremony, and you stand and bow your head, as he locks you both together.

You are now Ryomen Sukuna’s bride.

You look up as he is supposed to kiss you, it would be your first kiss, he leans so low, bending at the waist, and you prepare for it, shutting your eyes, how would it be, to kiss the King of Curses? However he merely brushes his lips against yours for a brief moment, before stepping away, and announcing you as his bride.

The anticipation kills you every moment, as you watch his concubines dance for him, but his ruby eyes keep flickering back to you, constantly, even as he drinks from his golden goblet, and even as several women run their hands on his chest. You think that’s for the best, perhaps he will have no interest in you, for you’re a simple village girl, many speak of your beauty, but you’re not worldly or experienced like them.

Perhaps he will not do more than what is necessary, and spare you from supposed cruelty. You’ve heard so many tales of what he has done, however you did not feel any cruelty when he held you, when he brushed his lips upon yours, but maybe you’re a bit naive, so sheltered to be the perfect wife for him.

You’re taken to your new chambers now, they are luxurious and beautiful, regal and fit for a Queen. You are a Queen, aren’t you now? It’s insane to take in, while your lady’s maid begins undressing you, you take in the surroundings, the red and gold ornate decorations, the low bed that has a canopy above it, draped with the same white and gold Sukuna himself wears.

Your peer in the looking glass, draped in a thin red yukata, with nothing underneath, your breasts are apparent, the opening exposing the valley between them, making your cheeks heat up. You feel the silk against your bare skin, floating across your body, knowing you’re naked under it makes you so nervous, as you know your duty will be to give the King his heirs.

You have very little knowledge, your mother had said to lay there and endure it, and that you would love your children, so that would get you through. The thoughts about that are purely horrific, you do not know anything aside from that, that he would lay on top of you and give you babies. You also know men seek pleasure elsewhere, not with their wives.

You don’t know what to think, but your heart falters when the door to your chamber opens, and Sukuna’s standing in your doorway, so massive he takes it over entirely. His eyes glint as he studies your body slowly, his sharp tongue darting to lick a lower lip, you fiddle nervously with your hands as he shuts the door behind him with a resounding click.

“My king, I hope I please you.” You say, dipping obediently, and he laughs then, the sound booming, a snarky look on his face.

“You’re trained to say everything right, perfect little thing huh?” He walks to you, one of his hands tilting up your chin, the sharp black nail pressing under it.

“I am meant to bear your children. It’s my duty.”

He scoffs now. “Your duty, hmm? Tell me, are you afraid of me little bunny?” You glare then, earning his chuckle.

“Little bunny!”

“A lamb for slaughter, surely, but also a little bunny frozen, afraid of the big bad wolf hmm?” His hands trail down the edges of your wrapped kimono, you struggle to keep any composure.

“You need not tease me, I know how it’s done.”

He’s grinning now with his sharp teeth, his two bottom eyes squinting to almost lines, the top two crinkling at the corners. “Oh, show me then, wife.”

You stomp over to the bed now as he laughs, taking several breaths and laying on your back, staring up at the canopy. Now he’s laughing louder, and you peer your head down. “What, you’re supposed to… give me babies.”

“Holy fuck this is rich.” He snorts now, walking to you, hovering over you.

“Well I know I… here.” You slip the knot of your robe off, baring your body then, and watch his breath catch, desire flaring in his eyes. “I’m supposed to be naked for you… do I displease?” You ask, as he backs away then.

“Displease… foolish brat.” He looks away for a moment, before exhaling and sitting you up on the bed instead, eyes drinking in every bit of your body slowly, tantalizingly, you’re breathing even faster, knees knocking from your nerves. “You’re terrified.”

“I am not! You may… do it.” You spread your thighs, eyes shut now, and he sighs, two of his hands slipping up your thighs now, the other two cupping your face, surprising you.

“You think it will be so terrible, your duty?” He speaks through gritted teeth, you keep your eyes shut, staying still.

“My mother said I shall endure it.” He sighs now, tracing your jaw, his huge hands surprisingly delicate, then you gasp as his other hands sliding up your thighs grow tongues. “Ah! What!?”

Your eyes lock onto his, and he’s so close you can inhale him, this musky heady scent that makes your tummy clench. “You think I, King of curses, don’t please those who enter my bed?”

“I… you mean all those girls?”

He tilts his head, the tongues lapping at your skin again. “I’m in here, aren’t I?”

“But you’ll find pleasure with them, I am only your duty.” You murmur, looking down, he hums to himself.

“Tch, you are… your body…” He trails off then, sighing. “I will not sleep with you tonight.”

“So I do displease!” You blink back tears.

“God you’re quite annoying. Just… shut up.” You glare now, and he grins. “I like that angry look, little bunny.”

“I am not a bunny! I… ah!” Sukuna’s hands are slipping up your thighs further, his other two sliding to your breasts, exhaling as he squishes them, black nails pressing into tender flesh, but it feels so good. You’re getting wet between your thighs, confusing and embarrassing you, making you pull away.

“Ah-ah, brat. Where do you think you’re going?” He’s moaning now, kneeling between your thighs, the King is kneeling before you!? It seems like insanity, his hot breaths now between your thighs, his eyes drinking you in. “Fuck, look at you.”

“Y-you said you will not lay with me tonight? Please don’t look at me there like that, I’m all…”

“Soaking wet.” He slides his long tongue against your soppy wet cunt now, licking a stripe up your slit as he moans. “Fuck you taste good.”

“What are you doing! I… ah… mmm!” Sukuna has two hands shoving your thighs wide, as you go to pull his head off you, the sensations of his wicked tongue are so overwhelming, only for him to moan when your fingers entangle in his pastel locks, two eyes glaring up as his tongue flicks on your clit, making you gush. “My king… I…”

“I want you to cum all over my face, be good for me bunny, would you? If you do a good enough job, I’ll reward you tomorrow.”

“A good job!? This is wicked… it feels… s’good- ah!” Your head is thrown back now, and you’re shoving his face against your cunt, you gasp then, realizing your folly. “I’m so sorry-”

“Shut your mouth, I only want to hear your cries.” His head dips back between your thighs, tongue lavishing your velvety walls, you’re gushing honeyed arousal all over his handsome face, yes he is handsome to you. You’re not afraid of him right now, especially as he’s touching you everywhere.

You’re crying out and shaking, thighs struggling to close, but he holds them firm, his other hands squishing your breasts again, tongues on his palms lapping at the sensitive peaks of your nipples. His tongue is fucking into you, one of his rough fingers rolling your clit now, making you go fuzzy, your walls are pulsing around his wet muscle, clit twitching under his fingertip.

You feel tension pooling in your tummy, feel yourself getting hotter, on edge, like something is ready to explode, overwhelming you, you’re sobbing almost, tears flowing but they’re from the insane pleasure. How his big hands grip you so tight you’ll bruise, how his tongue’s devouring you, you can hear yourself, how wet you are, mixing with your hoarse moans.

You never knew your duty would feel like this, you never knew you could crave a demon king’s touch, and you certainly never knew his tongue could bring you to the brink of ecstasy, or that he would want to give you pleasure. His eyes glint up at you, as he flicks his tongue faster, his hands pinching your nipples, the pleasure making your eyes roll back in your skull.

Your toes curl, draped over his broad shoulders, as he works you more and more, everything is heightened, you can barely see, hearing the squelching wetness, hearing him drinking you. “Ngh- my King-”

“Cum, let me feel you. Drink you.” He whispers, and you have no clue what he means, he sees it clearly. “Release, now. An order.” There’s the military leader, the demanding king, but it just makes you wetter for him, makes your hips arch up for more of his caresses.

You nod weakly and he groans, his tongue lapping you up, his hands massaging your breasts, making your back arch, so filled with pleasure, and for the first time in your life you feel desired, you feel alive. Your first orgasm rocks through your body, your cunt clenching around his tongue, your body shaking, your heart racing, your eyes blurry with the intensity. 

“Oh my god… oh my!” You’re soaking his face, taut nipples lavished by his tongues, and he’s smiling against your cunt, you feel his lips curve, tongue sliding out to flick up to your sensitive clit, watching you shake violently, walls fluttering around nothing as you breathe in heavy pants. “I… we… you…”

Sukuna pulls back then, smiling smugly up at you, licking his lips clean, your juices glistening on his tongue, even the strong jut of his chin is coated in you. “Good girl, now how is your duty going?”

“I… I cannot think.” You whisper, he leans up over you, his heavy, tattooed chest weighing on your soft breasts. Your hand touches his chest tentatively, feeling the burning hot skin, the strong muscles, his steady heart beat.

“You taste so sweet, little prey.” He kisses you then, not a kiss like the wedding, no it was brutal, taking you over, and you embarrassingly taste yourself, surprised at how the flavor is. His tongue darts in your mouth, his four hands gripping your waist and hips as he presses you into the bed, you gasp as you pull back. “Ah, those eyes, already drunk off me.”

You look at his lips, tracing them with your finger tips, his quiet moan does not escape you. “Do I do it back? The…”

He’s chuckling at you, making you angry again, a sarcastic look on his face, a brow raised. “What a slutty virgin, you wish to suck my cocks?”

You blink. “Cocks!? Two!?”

He’s laughing now, kissing down your jaw, moaning against your ear as you tremble under him. “You’re so tiny, it would be so easy to break you. So fun to break your pretty little head.”

That only serves to make you wetter, and he notices, moaning as you feel hardness between your thighs, under his robes. You tentatively raise your hips, earning his hiss, him pinning your hips down, thumbs pressing into your pelvis. He looks down at you with four dilated eyes, tongue licking his lower lip, one of his other hands brushing back your hair.

“Mmm, you will go to sleep, and tomorrow, I shall show you how much more there is to your duty than just bearing my children.” He says, you nod carefully as he stands up, leaving you on the bed, breathless, overwhelmed.

“And will you… lay with those concubines?”

He raises a brow, eyes trailing down your body. “Will that anger you, little bunny? Should I be afraid of your little paws?”

“It would upset me.” You say, pouting now, and he glares, clearly irritated. He then rolls his eyes with a sigh.

“Tch, already annoying me. Fine then.”

“Really?” You sit up, hopeful, suddenly craving more of him, your hands slipping up his strong biceps, you watch his eyes flutter shut for a moment.

“Yes, irritating creature. Now go to sleep.”

“Will you sleep with me?”

“Sleep in bed with you? No, I need to care for my precarious situation, caused by a bratty new bride.” You giggle and he glares, sobering you up. “You’re giggling at me, the king?”

“N-no. Sorry, my King. I shall see you in the morning.” You say softly now, he scoffs once more, eyeing your body lustfully as you slip back on your robe.

“Tsk.” Is all you get, as he leaves you alone in your chambers. You hesitantly touch yourself, seeing the sticky, glittering wetness still left, from your arousal and his tongue.

Lay there and endure? More like lay there and beg for more and more, blinding fucking pleasure from his tongues. Perhaps everything you think is completely wrong? What more is there to your duty, if you can call it that? You simply must know… and you’re very curious about his… cocks, fuck just the thought makes your pussy clench.

You’re snuggling up to a satin pillow in your new bed, lewd insane images flitting your mind, and for some reason you’re able to shut your eyes, and fall fast asleep, still feeling his touch on you.

If you wanna be tagged in the next three parts lmk! It'll be much more freaky next chaps, warnings will be added lol, gonna just be a story abt a girl and her demon king lol, nothing too angsty

Gonna write today and tomorrow(if I don’t get writers block ^.^) help me decide what to write my loves 🫶🏻

(You can also send something through ask if you’d like as well ^.^)

Here’s the Chishiya x reader fic <3

Wc: 2k

warnings: making out, fingering (fem!receiving), almost caught, Cum eating (?)

a/n: sort of edited, lmk if it sounds like shit lol

——-

You were wondering around the beach, trying to enjoy one of the free nights you had with your newly extended visa. Once you got away from all the people partying, the beach was actually quite peaceful. Making your way around the buildings empty halls lost in thought, you find yourself by the room the executives have meetings in.

Walking by you saw that the room was cracked open and saw a figure sitting in one of the chairs. You step closer to the door to see who it was, trying to not make yourself known. Peeking through the crack, you see a blonde head of hair tipped back with their eyes closed. You were quickly able to tell it was Chishiya.

Now everyone knew that you had a thing for Chishiya. You tried not showing it but anytime the man spoke, you would listen so attentively. When the man was walking by your eyes would be trained on his figure. Sometimes if you were sitting in the same room, you would often just stare at him. Even right now, you couldn’t help but drag your eyes down his relaxed body. Safe to say- you were quite infatuated with Chishiya. However, your thoughts of him were quickly interrupted by a deep raspy voice.

“You going to just stand there or are you going to come in?” The man in front of you spoke, eyes still closed and head tilted back.

You jolted back, face burning up after being caught. You grab the handle of the door and slowly push it open, listening to the hinges squeak as it’s opened wider. You slowly walk into the room with slow steps closing the door behind you, stopping only a few feet past the door.

Chishiya finally opened his eyes and tilted his head back to you. He noticed that you were only a few step into the door and smirked at your timidness.

“What, don’t want to come any closer?” He speaks to you. Now that you were in the room you could see that his usually zipped up hoodie was unzipped, hands still in his pockets though. This and his comment catch you off guard, making you lose your of thought. After a few seconds, you shake your head and start to move closer. Eventually you make it to next to his chair, only a couple of feet from him now. After a second you gain the confedence to say something to him.

“What are you doing just sitting here?” You ask him, crossing your arms and trying not to stare at his very exposed chest.

“Why were you creeping at the door?” He asked you back, staring up at you and raking his own eyes up and down your body. In your process of crossing your arms, you failed to realize that you were pushing up your overly exposed breast that were in a bikini top. Realizing this, it makes you huff and drop your arms.

“I wasn’t creeping. I just saw the door open and was wondering who was just sitting here all depressingly.” You tell him, returning his stare. He just gives a small huff of a laugh and keeps staring at you. The two of you continue to have what seems to be a staring contest since neither of you want to blink before the other. You couldn’t hold up though, your eyes starting to water and eventually you blink and look away from the man sitting in front of you.

As you’re looking away, you see Chishiya stand up from the corner of your eye. You still didn’t want to look at him though, afraid you’d just keep looking at his chest that was still out in the open. By doing so, you failed to realize where Chishiya was standing now. He had stopped just a foot away from you, close enough to even smell now. You slowly turned your head stared up at the man in front of you. You were now backed against the edge of the table, your bottom pressing against the hard edge.

“I see the way look at me, you sure you weren’t creeping?” He whispered down at you with his smirk still on his face. He finally took his hands out of his pockets and placed them on the table, making you lean back and press your bottom even harder into the table.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You tell him, adverting your eyes. However, you couldn’t do that for long before you felt a hand grab onto your face and turn you back to him. Now your faces were only an inch a part, you could even feel Chishiya breathe on your face.

“Why don’t you ever say anything to me huh?” He ask you, caressing the side the side of your face waiting for you to answer him. You give an almost audible gulp, staring into Chishiya dark eyes that were piercing into yours.

“I just didn’t think you’d want me around you.” You whisper back to him. Chishiya tilts his head at you, chuckling at your response. Bring his hand down to brush against your bottom lip.

“You think I don’t want you?” He asked but doesn’t let you respond because the next thing that happens is his lips pressing into yours. You’re shocked for a second before you melt into the kiss. Chishiya grabs onto your exposed waist, thanks to the swimsuit you’re wearing. Not sure what to really do with your hands, you just place them behind you on the table. After a minute, Chishiya pulls back just enough to say something to you.

“That tell you I want you around?” He tells in his raspy voice. Trying to catch your breath, all you can do is nod at his words.

“Good.” Chishiya tells you before grabbing your hips and pulling you up to sit on the table. This has you letting out a small yelp in shock, but you can’t say anything again because Chishiyas lips find yours a second later. This time the kiss is a lot more passionate. You feel his tongue brush the bottom of your lip, wanting entrance into your mouth. You didn’t really know what to do because you haven’t really done anything like this before.

Chishiya could tell by the way you weren’t really doing much, so he decided to take the lead. He moved his hands down to your butt, squeezing it and pushing your body flush with his. This made you gasp and Chishiya took that moment to push his tongue into your mouth. You let out a small moan, which you could feel Chishiya smirk at through the kiss.

Eventually he moved away from your mouth and started to kiss down the side of your neck. As he was doing that you felt one of his hangs move to the front of your body. The hand creeped around the front, stopping at the top of the waistband of your swimsuit. You were letting out quiet moans, trying not to be so loud considering you guys were technically in a public space even if the doors were closed.

You could feel Chishiya inch his fingers to your waistband, pulling back from your neck and looking at your face. You look up at him, your chest heaving up and down. He was clearly asking for your consent, gripping at the bikini ready to move it. You were hesitant but you knew you could trust Chishiya, so you nod your head him. He presses his lips to yours again, giving your side a squeeze. He then moves his hand back to your front again, brushing over your front. You gasp at the touch, having never felt anything like this before. You’ve touched yourself before but you haven’t ever had someone elses touch.

Chishiya starts rubbing over the swimsuit, fingers circle of where your clit is at. This feeling was new but very nice to you, so you tilt your head back and let out a slightly louder moan, leaning back on your hands again. As soon as you did so, you snap your head back up and cover your mouth, looking at the man in front of you. Looking at him, he had that same smirk he always had when he liked something.

“You know, if you’re any louder than that, we’re gonna get caught.” He tells you, continuing to make circles of your clit. All you can do in response was nod your head and try not to be so loud.

Eventually Chishiya moves to the side of your swimsuit bottom and pulls it to the side, finally exposing you to him. He lets out a small groan, looking at the way you were already soaking from him just touching and kissing you. He moved his fingers around your center, testing what made you let out more sounds and what didn’t. He kept doing this until you were dripping and letting out small whines, trying to stay as quiet as possible. Chishiya looks up at your face before finally pushing a finger into you.

You gasp at the new feeling, Chishiyas finger was way longer and reached a lot further than yours had ever had. Testing the waters again he added a second while pressing his thumb against your clit. He started curling his fingers and moving them in and out of you, his other finger making circles on your clit at the same time. This had you letting out a whimper, gripping onto to Chishiyas shoulder. Chishiya moved his face towards your neck, lips starting to suck at the spot that was just below your ear. You could feel yourself starting to get close to your climax and Chishiya could also tell with the way you were squeezing around his fingers. You were probably just a few seconds from your release when you heard something.

“Did you guys hear something?” You hear a voice on the other side of the door say. This had you gasping and wrapping your arm around Chishiyas shoulders, shoving your face in the side of his neck trying to be quiet. However, Chishiya didn’t stop moving his fingers at your center. He leans up right next to your ear and whispers,

“Better keep quiet.”

This has you biting your lips, trying to stay absolutely silent. Chishiyas fingers picked up speed and were curling in and out of you much faster now. You wanted nothing more than just to let out a loud moan from all the pleasure you were feeling.

“You’re probably just hearing things idiot, cmon I saw some hot chicks down at the bar let’s go.” A second voice speaks on the other side of the door before you hear footsteps move down the hall, leaving you two alone again. Before you could relax though, Chishiya decides to curl his fingers in just the right way that has you absolutely crashing. If those people hadn’t just left then, they would have defintely heard the moan you let out as you came. Your eyes were screwed shut as you drenched Chishiyas hand between your legs. It took you a few seconds before opening your eyes, your stare being met with Chishiyas.

Chishiya was looking down at you, his famous smirk pulled onto his lips. He pulled his hand from between your legs and brought it up to his mouth, licking the mess off of his fingers. He lets out a hum as he tastes you, leaving you wide eyed with your jaw slightly open.

“So what was it about me not wanting you around?” He asked down at you, placing his hands back into his pockets. You finally got your head somewhat clear and adjusted your swimsuit bottom. You give him a playful push shaking your head, jumping off the table. However, you didn’t land so smoothly. The second your legs hit the floor you were met with wobbly legs. Chishiya quickly grabs onto you, making sure you didn’t fall right on your face. Once you get stable, you were still holding Chishiyas arms and looking up at him. The two of you stared at each other for a second before Chishiya decided to speak.

“Cmon.” He tells you and starts pulling you towards the door.

“Where are we going?” You ask him as the two of you exit the room.

“My room.”

—————————

hehe part 2??? jk idk unless you guys reallllly wanna.

feel free to check out my ko-fi

(Look how cute he is 😖)

xoxo - liv

This long-distance relationship just wasn’t working for Sukuna anymore.

He can’t see you. Can’t touch you. Can’t put you in a headlock, smack your ass, bite you, or flick your forehead. At this point, are you two even together, or is this just an overpriced pen-pal situation?

He calls you clingy, but let’s be real—anyone with half a brain cell and a functioning set of eyes can see that he’s the real problem here. And the worst part? He knows exactly what he’s doing. He just doesn’t care. He does not want to be saved.

This man is glued to his phone every single minute, refreshing your messages like his life depends on it. And if you don’t answer fast enough? He turns into a grumpy, overgrown toddler, making everyone around him suffer.

At this point, it’s not just him begging you to visit—it’s his friends, his brother, maybe even some strangers off the street. They’re exhausted. They have had enough. Somebody, please, for the love of all things holy, put this man out of his misery and just go see him before they all lose their minds.

After two months, you finally decided to just surprise Sukuna. It was early in the morning, and you didn’t tell a single soul you were coming. Not even his friends— they would’ve blown your cover out of sheer relief. You missed him too, sure… just not as much as he missed you.

You let yourself in with your key, slipping inside like a thief in the night (except this was your man and your house, so..?). He was still asleep, sprawled out on the bed in nothing but black boxers and a tight black T-shirt that was clinging to him a little too well.

And this? This right here is where you questioned everything.

How did you pull this man? Seriously. What divine force was on your side that day? He looked so damn good, it was criminal. His tattoos. The way that shirt stretched over his muscles. The black boxers. The absolute mess that was his pink hair. It was all too much.

You wanted to jump his bones on sight, but you contained yourself. Barely.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, you gently rub his back, whispering softly, "Sukuna… baby, wake up." He doesn’t move a muscle. When he’s asleep, he’s as still as stone, completely unreachable—unless, of course, the air shifts in the room just right. Then, he’s up in an instant, sharp and alert, like a predator on the prowl. But right now? Nothing. Not a twitch.

You try again, your voice softer this time, "Love... baby... Suku... wake up... mm, I'm here..."

At the sound of your voice, he stirs. A low grunt escapes his throat, and his eyes flutter open, but the confusion on his face is enough to make your heart melt. He blinks, disoriented, as if trying to process what’s real. And in that moment, you can’t help but smile. He’s so adorable, even in his most groggy, unguarded state.

The fact that you—just you—can see him like this, can call him any type of names and still think he's the cutest thing alive, fills you with a warmth you didn’t know you needed.

He groggily shifts, trying to register what’s going on. But when his eyes finally meet yours, that familiar spark of recognition flickers in them. It’s like everything else fades away.

“Y/N?”

His voice is always deep, but in the morning, it’s something else entirely—low and rough, the kind that you can feel vibrating in your chest.

“Did you miss me?” you tease, a small smile tugging at your lips.

For a good thirty seconds, he just stares at you, blinking slowly, his red eyes still heavy with sleep. And then—without a word—he grabs you, pulling you down onto the bed with him.

The hug alone could’ve crushed you. His arms lock around you like a vice, his grip unrelenting, like he’s afraid you might disappear if he lets go. His face remains serious, unreadable—but inside? Oh, inside, he’s jumping up and down like a kid on Christmas morning.

He is this close to giggling, to kicking his legs like a teenage girl with a hopeless crush.

But he won’t. Absolutely not.

Instead, he just holds you tighter, burying his face in your neck, pretending like he’s not about to combust from how happy he is.

You can feel the way his breathing evens out against your skin, like he’s grounding himself with your presence. His nose brushes along your neck, slow and almost lazy, but there's a little tremble in the way he exhales, like he still can’t believe you're actually here.

“I thought I was dreaming,” he mutters, voice muffled into your shoulder.

You run your fingers through his hair, gently scratching at his scalp the way he likes. “You always say that when I show up.”

“Because I never think I deserve it,” he says, so quietly you almost miss it.

Your heart clenches.

You pull back just enough to look at him. His eyes are still heavy-lidded, lashes fanning over flushed cheeks, but there's something softer in them now—something he only shows you.

“You’re ridiculous,” you whisper, brushing his hair back from his forehead. “You’ve been acting like a feral cat in a thunderstorm for two months straight. I was afraid your friends were gonna start sending me ransom letters.”

That earns the tiniest twitch of a smile. Barely there. But you caught it.

“I wasn’t that bad,” he grumbles.

“Oh, you were worse,” you laugh, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Suddenly, he pulled back—and in one swift motion, yanked his shirt off and tossed it somewhere across the room.

You blinked. “Excuse me?”

He smirked like the devil himself. “Now that you’re here,” he said, voice dropping, “let’s get down to business, woman.”

You frowned, crossing your arms. “Business? I just got here.”

“And I’ve been waiting months,” he said, already reaching for you again. “You think I’ve been sitting here practicing patience and self-control? No, sweetheart. I’ve been suffering.”

“Suffering?” you scoffed, though your cheeks were already warm.

“Agonizing,” he corrected, deadly serious. “Like a man dying in the desert. And you—” he pointed at you dramatically, “—are the only oasis that can quench my thirst.”

You stared at him.

He stared back, completely unapologetic.

And then you burst out laughing. “You’ve been watching those trashy romance dramas again, haven’t you?”

“Shut up and take your clothes off,” he growled, yanking you back into his chest.

--

Well, he put you through it.

The second things started, he didn’t let up—wouldn’t even let you move. Like he was trying to make up for all the time apart in one night. No breaks, no mercy. Just Sukuna, with that feral look in his eyes, making it very, very clear just how much he’d missed you.

When it comes to sex with him, there’s no such thing as “taking it slow.” He’s intense. Greedy sadistic bastard.

By the end of it, you were completely spent—legs shaking, voice hoarse, body humming with overstimulation—and he? He came so hard he passed out on top of you. Just collapsed like a full-grown jungle cat that wore itself out hunting. Arms wrapped around you, dead weight pressing you into the mattress, and a low satisfied grunt rumbling in his chest.

So yeah. He missed you. A lot.

You laid there for a few minutes, trying to catch your breath, hair a mess, skin sticky and flushed, heart still racing. His head was tucked into your neck, breathing deep and slow, already asleep.

You shifted a little beneath him, tapping at his back.

“Sukuna. Hey—get off, you’re heavy.”

He didn’t move. Didn’t even flinch.

“Suku. Babe. You’re crushing my lungs.”

A beat of silence. Then, a soft, almost childish grumble: “Mine…”

You blinked. “What?”

He nuzzled deeper into your neck, voice sleepy and muffled. “Mine. Stay still.”

“You’re literally crushing me—”

“Die then. Still mine.”

You snorted, trying not to laugh, even as he wrapped one of his massive arms tighter around your waist like a damn seat belt. It was useless. You were trapped. Claimed. Claimed by a half-conscious, overgrown menace of a man with not enough self-control.

“…Fine,” you sighed, brushing his hair back from his face. “But if you drool on me again, I swear to god—”

Extra:

3 hours later...

You were still drifting between sleep and reality, body aching in all the right places. Sukuna was no better—completely sprawled beside you, arm draped over your waist like you were his favorite plushie. His breathing was slow, warm against your shoulder. He hadn’t even moved yet.

Eventually, he lifted his head groggily from your skin, eyes heavy-lidded, hair wild like he lost a fight with a thunderstorm. Lips red and swollen, scratch marks visible on his chest and neck. He looked wrecked.

In the best possible way.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight of him.

“Why are you laughing?” he murmured, voice still thick with sleep and pure bass.

You were about to answer, still giggling like a fool under the covers, when—

BANG.

His bedroom door slammed open.

“Oh my god, it’s too early for this—Sukuna, please, stop moping—” “Bro, we brought you breakfast ‘cause you haven’t eaten in like, two days—” “IF YOU’RE GONNA DIE OF HEARTBREAK, DO IT QUIETLY—”

The room exploded with voices as Uraume, Gojo, Geto, and Toji stormed in like a damn intervention squad, expecting to find Sukuna in his usual spiral: half-dead, face-down in takeout, and angrily listening to toxic love songs.

What they didn't expect… was you.

Or him. Completely naked. Tangled up with you in the aftermath of what could only be described as biblical levels of destruction.

They all froze.

Eyes wide. Mouths open. Silence like a slap.

Sukuna sat up, completely bare-assed and utterly unfazed. He looked over his shoulder at them slowly—murder in his eyes, sleep still in his bones.

You scrambled, yanking the blanket up to cover your very exposed self, cheeks flaming.

He didn’t care. Not a blink of shame.

“Get the fuck out,” Sukuna grunted, dragging the comforter up higher over you—only you. His back muscles flexed like they were doing it on purpose. “You can scream later. She just got here. And I’m not done.”

Geto immediately spun on his heel. “Nope. Nope. I saw ass. I’m out.”

Gojo gagged dramatically, covering his eyes. “I think I just went blind. Why is your whole spine flexing like that?!?”

Toji just whistled low, grinning. “Damn. No wonder he’s been out of commission.”

Uraume didn’t even flinch, deadpan as always. “Do you want me to bring water or a priest?”

“DOOR.” Sukuna roared.

It slammed shut behind them.

You lay back down, breathless with laughter, still hidden under the blanket. Sukuna rolled over, eyes half-lidded, grin spreading across his stupidly handsome face.

<><>

an: i had a plot and I lost it so.....

Now my keyboard for my iPad decides to break- I’m seriously gonna crash out guys 🙂

God how much I miss him😭😭