give stelle a small bird to take care of
she got the bird somehow but what now
𓆩♡𓆪 jing yuan x gender-neutral!reader — domestic fluff, established relationship!au
[12:00 AM] you’re woken up by a kiss. literally.
jing yuan smiles against your lips, only allowing a hair’s breadth of space to form in between you both as you let out an annoyed huff. you roll onto your back and he towers over you, arms braced on either side of your head.
“hi,” he whispers, and you can hear the smile in his voice.
“go to sleep,” you grumble, cracking one eye open lazily.
“it’s midnight.”
“exactly.” you try to turn over, but the general nuzzles into your neck, pressing a brief, open-mouthed kiss to the sliver of skin exposed near your shoulder.
“you know what that means.” he presses his fingers into your waist, bunching up your robe. his hair tickles your neck; you smile.
“it means you need to sleep,” you say pointedly, squinting into the darkness. you bring a hand up and card it through his hair. he sighs softly when you lightly scratch on his scalp.
“and it also means it’s a new day already.”
“‘s not a new day ‘til the sun comes up,” you murmur sleepily.
jing yuan doesn’t argue. he only grabs your hand and kisses the inside of your wrist. the muted lights that penetrate the darkness through your open window are reflected in his eyes—but he looks at you like you’ve hung up all the stars in the luofu’s sky, just for him.
“happy birthday,” he says, mouth splitting into a wide grin, and despite your drowsiness, you let him pull you into a kiss.
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.
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.
ELECTRICIAN!TOJI — TOJI FUSHIGURO
SYNOPSIS...some headcanons I have about electrician!toji hehe
INFO...electrician!toji x fem!reader, nsfw content, p in v, oral (m & f receiving), praise, toji is an ex prisoner, riding, mating press, cream pie, overstim, not proofread
OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated
electrician!toji...who is also an ex prisoner and landed this job a few months after he got released. He was thankful his cousin was able to hook him up with a job and even more thankful they hired him
electrician!toji...whose body is littered with tattoos, he swears it makes him look more intimidating because the little old ladies on the street always steer clear from him
electrician!toji...who is tall and muscular, he was working out before going to prison but started working out more due to boredom. His muscles only grew bigger and he only grew stronger (he’s gotten into his fair share of fights)
electrician!toji...who ends up getting sent to your house for a job on his day off, he expects to be welcomed by some old man but is completely caught off guard to see a pretty thing like yourself open the door with a nervous smile
electrician!toji...who comes and diagnoses the problem, taking a look at your garage sensor, complaining that it wasn’t working properly. You’re profusely apologizing like it’s your fault, and he can’t help but chuckle and reassure you it’s okay
electrician!toji...who is taken aback by your kindness, asking him if he’d like something to drink or even eat as he works. He takes you up on your offer and has a little break while you make him a nice fulfilling sandwich
electrician!toji...who keeps stealing glances at those cute little shorts you have on. He knows you probably don’t mean it, but he can’t stop staring at the little part of your ass peaking out your shorts. It only reminds him of how long it’s been since he’s been with a woman
electrician!toji...whose conversation goes smooth with you, you’re asking him about his tattoos and how likes his job, telling little jokes and making him laugh
electrician!toji...who doesn’t expect you to put your hand on his muscles, asking him how much he can lift just out of pure curiosity. He flexes his arms under your touch just to hear you giggle. “Wanna find out?”
electrician!toji...who has you hoisted up in the air like you way nothing, his thick cock pumping in and out of your dripping pussy, his hands gripping your ass while you hold onto him for dear life
electrician!toji...who has you crying out his name and cumming on his cock in damn near every room of your house, his rough hand pressing your head into the couch as he pounds into you, fucking you dumb. “Look at how much this pussy is creaming around me, baby,” he cockily says.
electrician!toji...who has your entire body shaking, his hands guiding your hips while you slowly ride him, his thick cock stretching you inch by inch. “Just like that…ah—feel so fucking good wrapped around me.”
electrician!toji...who has your legs pushed to your chest, his tongue messily lapping at your sensitive clit, fat tears streaming down your cheeks because it’s just too much. He laughs at your measly attempts to push his head away but all that fails when you’re cumming on his tongue again
electrician!toji...who doesn’t realize he has a whole bunch of missed calls from his boss, nevemind realize how much hours have gone by. The sun is already setting outside and you’re on your knees with his dick down your throat
electrician!toji...who has your legs over his shoulders, folding you into a mating press all while whispering the nastiest things in your ear. “Gonna take all this cum, huh? Yeah, good girl. This pussy is fucking perfect,” he groans, each snaps of his hips knocks the air out your chest, your eyes rolling back.
electrician!toji...who cums deep inside you, filling your pussy to the very brim, his sweaty body pressed against yours, breath hitting your skin as he tries to ground himself again
electrician!toji...who finally returns the missed calls from his boss while you’re passed out in bed literally minutes later. “I just thought I’d stay few extra hours to help her, she wanted me to look at some other stuff. It’s my day off anyway, right?” He smirks, looking over at your sleeping figure
electrician!toji...who leaves his phone number on your bedside table for “business reasons” before heading back home
electrician!toji...who’s back and biceps are still covered in scratches days later, reminding him of his time with you, the flashbacks making his dick grow hard
electrician!toji...who gets a random phone call and immediately recognizes your voice. “Heyyy, Toji, hate to ask, but..my bedroom light keeps flickering…think you can come check it out?” And he scoffs, already grabbing his keys and heading to his car. “On my way.”
electrician!toji...who pulls up to your house, not even getting a chance to knock on the door before you open it and drag him inside, feverishly kissing him. “Missed this dick that much, did you?”
taglist:
@sleepykittyenergy @ravenbc @yharnam-prophet @screechingbasementprincess @avaredava @mxrxlxy @lordchula-thagrandrula @akiyhara @palestrawberrycollection @bijuu-naginata @jeansblit @jabulile @aemyuo @springismss @fmlalexis @gradmacoco @phob1cc @kousweet @saoirses-things @ineedtofeedmycat @voidofryomen @bbyrugou @suguru-nugget @monkeyjjk @zxnxy @loserrrluvvverrr
even while locked up, Toji will make Valentine's day special for you. He already has a letter sent to you every day leading up to the 14th. Some of them sweet, romantic. Others just straight up dirty. He also has Shiu get you some things, spending the money he has in an offshore bank account.
February 1st
There's a ring at your doorbell, and you sleepily open the door.
"Shiu!" You happily greet before you realize he's holding one of those giant ass bouquets of roses. One of those ramos buchones with the pretty gemstones and your initial spelled out with baby's breath. Flashy as hell. "What's all this?"
"Jus' read the damn letter," he nods to a red envelope, a cigarette dangling out his mouth but away from your precious gift. Toji would kill him even from the inside if he were to find out Shiu got even the slightest of ashes on his girl's gifts. You take the envelope, tracing your name written in Toji’s bold, messy scrawl. You barely close the door before sliding your finger under the seal.
Didn’t forget, baby. I never do. First day, first gift. You better love it. Had Shiu pick out the biggest, most ridiculous thing I could find. My princess only deserves the best, right?
February 2nd
The letter today is simple. Too simple.
Baby, I hope you didn’t think I’d only spoil you with flowers.
Your stomach twists in anticipation. Later that day, you hear a knock. This time, it’s a delivery service. You sign for a package, confusion written all over your face—until you open it. Inside is a velvet box. You slowly open it, and it catches the light, casting rays of color—a necklace, a gold figaro chain with a diamond pendant. Looking closer at the pendant makes your breath hitch.
His initials.
You press your lips together, heart thudding. The note beneath it is shorter this time.
Wear it. Every day. I’ll know if you don’t.
February 3rd
On your front porch it a tiny pink box with another letter perched on top. You open the box first, the whole collection of a lip gloss you wear, one Toji said was his favorite because he loves the scent and the taste when he kisses it off your lips.
I was gonna wait, but fuck it. You know I don’t have patience. I’ve been thinking about you too much, baby. Can’t sleep. Can’t focus. All I can think about is that pretty mouth of yours.
You don’t even finish reading before you slam the letter shut. Your face is on fire. He’s ridiculous. But your fingers linger on the page, gripping it tight. You’re not going to reread it. You’re not.
February 4th
Another gift. This time, it’s a designer perfume. You spray it on your wrist out of curiosity, inhaling the scent—rich, warm, deep. A little spicy yet still sweet. Just like you. A folded note is stuck in the packaging.
This is how I want you to smell when I have you under me.
You hate the way your breath catches. The way you tighten your grip on the bottle, as if that’ll stop the way his words sink under your skin.
February 5th
Shiu hands you the next letter without a word. You expect something dirty again, but instead—
You been eating, baby? Sleeping? You better be taking care of yourself. I’ll be real pissed if I find out you’re not.
You blink at the paper, stomach twisting. You don’t even like that he makes you feel this way. Cared for. Wanted. As soon as you look up, Shiu hands you the bags from behind his back. It's takeout from the place you always went to with Toji. Your favorites are inside, every single thing down to the drink. You knew Toji meticulously picked out each menu item. In the other bag Shiu hands you is self care items. Your creams and serums and even the face masks you force Toji to wear with you.
February 6th
You shouldn’t be looking forward to these letters as much as you do. But you do. This one is short.
You dream about me? Bet you do. Wonder if you wake up wet, missing my hands.
You rip it up, toss it in the trash.
Then, minutes later, you dig it back out, smoothing out the pieces.
You hate him.
February 7th
Another knock at the door. Another gift. This time, it's a dress—silky, short, scandalous.
The note?
Wear this when you come see me.
Your breath catches. He hasn’t mentioned seeing you yet, hasn’t even implied it. But now, it lingers in the air.
February 8th
A different kind of letter today.
If I was there right now, what would you do?
You should throw it away.
Instead, that night, you sit on your bed, staring at it in the dim glow of your bedside lamp, heart pounding in your chest.
February 9th
A small box sits outside your door in the morning. This time it's a velvet pouch. You pull the string, letting the contents slide onto your palm—an anklet, delicate gold with a tiny charm dangling off the chain. This one matches your necklace, his initials are on this one too. You don’t even hesitate this time. You clasp it around your ankle immediately.
This one's gonna be dangling over my shoulder soon.
February 10th
Shiu shows up again. Another box.
Inside? Lingerie.
Red. Lace.
The note is just one line.
Think about me when you put it on.
February 11th
You better be missing me, baby. I know you are.
This time the gift is a whole outfit. One of those flowy white maiden-style off the shoulder dresses, pretty sandals, and even an innocent enough white bra and panty set with cute little bows.
It doesn't go with the letter, which leaves you a tad bit confused.
February 12th
This letter is filthy.
Explicit enough that you don’t even know how he got it past whoever checks his mail.
You have to sit down after reading it.
And take a very cold shower.
February 13th
Another envelope. You open it, expecting a letter. But nope. Just a single ticket to Italy for February 15th. Weird.
February 14th
A single rose sits outside your door, a final letter tucked beneath it.
You should know by now to lock your windows, ma. Don't know what kind of scary men could climb through your window.
What the?? Slowly you turn around, and there he is, in the flesh. All smug and cute like he knows he did a damn good job at surprising you.
"Happy Valentine's Day princess."
Live reaction of me reading this:
Modern AU, Pâtissier Sunday notices his favorite customer looking a little worse for wear. He has a special delicacy just for you. And you’re a little too smooth in return.
Sunday/Gender-neutral reader.
(This might be an ongoing AU of one-shots; in which Sunday left his position to pursue other ways of providing joy through his creativity. This is fluffy and silly. In no way really connected to canon.)
On AO3 here. Kudos, reblogs, and comments appreciated!
Divider by cafekitsune
You came into his shop one day with stiff shoulders and a clenched jaw, the tension barely perceptible to the customers in line before you. How unfortunate.
Most of your visits were full of wide eyes searching for his latest creations, a smile forming when you found your target for the week, always determined to try something new. Little did you know that it was because of your adventurous nature that he tried to keep rotations of exciting flavor combinations.
What could possibly have such stress radiating off of you in palpable waves?
He would have to remedy that somehow, Sunday mused as he weighed a box of tiny chocolate mousse cups. Thankfully, today was a bit slow. He would have time to dedicate to you.
By the time you reached the counter, your jaw seemed a little looser when you greeted him, at least. A small victory.
“What would you like this week? I tried my hand at a few fun little creatures.”
The Trailblazer recently recounted their excitement on the Herta Space Station and the cat debacle that occurred. He’d felt compelled to attempt tiny cake pops in the shape of the cat cakes described. They were a little unorthodox texture-wise but seemed to do quite well with some children.
Up close, he could see the dark circles peeking through despite your attempts to cover them. You couldn’t seem to keep eye contact, either; in fact, when you attempted a smile, your eyes looked a little glassy, as if…
He remembered those days. Where the cup you held kept overflowing despite trying your best to empty it. One more ask and your cup might just shatter.
No, he wouldn’t have that. He didn’t leave the Family and set out making desserts that made people smile only for tears to spill in his shop. He might not have been able to solve every problem or take away the unjust suffering of existence, Sunday knew well by now. But he could provide a moment of solace, unique and magical…
Sunday gave you a soft smile in return. He tried to keep his wings from fluttering as he thought about the box he set aside in the fridge that morning, just for you. Perfect.
“I know just the thing. Wait here.”
“No, Sunday, I’ll just—“
He turned on his heel before he reached the swinging door. “I must insist. In fact, it would make my day to share this secret with my favorite customer.”
The words spilled out before he could stop them and he turned, stepping into the kitchen just as heat began to creep up your neck. Suddenly, the chilled kitchen felt a little too warm for his liking; a glance at the thermostat as he passed told him it was functional.
Goodness. Acting like a schoolboy.
The chastisement did little to stop his heart from hammering when he opened the fridge and checked the box, finding it perfectly undisturbed. Your favorite type of chocolate, mixed with rose water and a type of berry he’s never worked with before. Entirely new, a prototype to be refined.
Before he left the kitchen, Sunday stopped at the small station set up for boxing and wrapping. He grabbed a ribbon that reminded him of your eyes and made quick work of a bow, perfectly centered.
He returned to the front of the shop and presented the small box from the tips of his fingers. An inhale snagged in his lungs as your fingers brushed his when you took the box. You cradled it close, lips parted in a question.
“How much do I owe you?” you asked.
Nothing, he wanted to say. Your smile and your enthusiasm was always payment enough.
But whatever feelings he held wouldn’t cover overhead.
“My only ask is that you share your thoughts and tell me what would make the next batch better,” he replied.
He swallowed when he saw your eyes glint, the corners of your mouth twitching as the shadow of whatever held you down seemed to peel away. That was better. You looked a little more like yourself.
That creeping flush over your skin came back as you said, “It’s a date, then.”
Sunday’s composure remained intact until the door to the shop closed, the bell jingling happily. Reflectively, his wings folded inwards to cover his cheeks, his face growing warmer still.
He was going to have to come up with something extra special for your next visit.
When the baby dragon wants to fly on his own but daddy dragon won’t allow it because his wings are still too small 😔🍼🪽
Eremite 🌱
忘了发画完的。。。
I am in love with your writing 🥺
i do (the practice round) — ft. gojo satoru
satoru doesn’t drink often—but when he does, it’s always because there’s something heavy on his mind. you figure out just what it is as you shove a wasted satoru into your car in the middle of the night
before you read: fem reader ; non curse au, suguru never defects ; established relationship ; drunk gojo, mentions of alcohol ; mentions of marriage and proposals ; banter
notes: i am binging jjk season 2 and i think satoru’s bum ass would definitely ruin his own proposal and never even be aware of it
Sometimes, you appreciate Suguru’s company. He makes it tolerable to deal with the handful that is Satoru. With a boyfriend as…eccentric as Satoru is, having someone as a voice of reason keeps you feeling sane sometimes. But sometimes, you also hate Suguru.
Right now, it’s the latter. You wouldn’t consider yourself on the list of his top fans now that he’s left you with a drunk, stumbling, and absolutely difficult Satoru to wrangle into your car and take home.
“Stupid Suguru,” you grumble, “I told him not to let you drink too much.”
Curse Suguru for leaving you for some random woman at the bar, and curse him for letting your lightweight boyfriend drink as much as he has. Satoru doesn’t even drink often—and certainly not this much.
You can’t help but wonder what got him here in the first place.
“Hey,” Satoru snaps, swatting your hand away as you shove his six-plus-foot-figure into the passenger seat, “don’t touch me. My wife will be mad.”
You pause, blinking before looking at him amused.
“You don’t have a wife, Satoru,” you snort. A small part of you thinks he’s an idiot, of course, but another part of you feels a thumping making itself abundantly clear in your ribcage, somewhere deep in your heart.
Wife. You like the sound of that, you think. You walk around the car, entering the driver’s side as Satoru sits and simmers in his despair.
“Don’t rub it in,” he whines, slumping against the dashboard of your car as he groans. “I don’t have a wife yet. Been trying for ages.”
“Trying what—”
“Every time I think v’got the perfect chance, s’ruined by somethin’ or another.”
“What are you talking about—”
He pulls something shiny out, dangerously at risk of dropping it with how wobbly his hands are from the alcohol in his system. You pause. Blink. Stiffen. Sit there in absolute silence as he stares at the ring in his hands woefully.
“Had it for weeks,” he says pitifully. And then, because he’s just as wasted as you suspected, he holds it out to you. You can’t find it in you to move, just staring blankly at it. “Think she’ll like it?”
“Who?” You croak, playing along.
“My girlfriend,” he grumbles. “You’re not very bright.”
“And you’re not very polite,” you snap back half heartedly, ears still ringing from his words just moments ago. Think she’ll like it?
He means you, of course. He doesn’t realize he’s speaking to the very person he’s supposed to present the ring with, but you suppose now you understand just why he’s taken to drinking so much this evening. He must be quite on edge as of late.
“Polite my ass,” he huffs under his breath, pulling you from out of your thoughts.
“You kiss your girlfriend with that mouth?” You challenge.
He does. He kisses his girlfriend (you) senseless quite often, in fact. Maybe more than he should…perhaps even at places he should not.
“I do,” he says haughtily. “My girlfriend loves me. She’s obsessed with me, actually. She couldn’t live without me. She kisses me on the mouth all the time. Among other places too.”
You want to slap his shoulder at that last comment—it just about takes you everything not to. “Your girlfriend is crazy for kissing that mouth of yours,” you tease.
Satoru doesn’t appreciate you talking poorly of his girlfriend (you) like that. It’s offensive. You can tell as much from the purely insulted look on his face as he gasps, “don’t speak about my baby like that! This is why you don’t have a boyfriend.”
“I do, actually,” you grin. He doesn’t believe you—the disbelieving snort he lets out instantly would offend you if it was anyone else, maybe. But Satoru pulls a fond, easy smile across your lips.
It feels like muscle memory.
“You have a boyfriend?” He asks incredulously.
“I do,” you grin.
“You love him?”
“I do,” you confirm. He looks unconvinced, but shrugs anyway.
“Is he a loser or something? Dating you?”
“He is,” you grin wider, “a total loser.”
“Makes sense,” he snickers. And then his attention is back to the ring in his hand, his long, nimble fingers fiddling with it before he murmurs, “I hope she likes it.”
“I’m sure she will,” you say softly, biting your lip as your eyes feel just a bit misty.
You mean it, too. He’ll never know that, but what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.
“You really think so?” He asks quietly. Shy. Satoru has never been shy—he’s so many things. Loud. Outspoken. Stubborn. Maybe a little shameless. But shy doesn’t usually describe him.
He seems to unlock a few hidden sides of himself around you. You think you want to unlock a few more.
“I do,” you say for the third time that night.
It’s practice, you think, for the real thing.
Imagine revealing on your tenth anniversary “btw i actually knew you were promising weeks before you did it. You showed me the ring and everything.” He’d claw his eyes out lolll