Strewbarrytree - ❤︎

𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

incubus!Ryomen Sukuna x f!reader

genre. forbidden love, romance, smut

s. who knows how many lives we have lived and how many we have forgotten in the course of our existence. “you should be grateful ….” he says with a smirk as you feel a strange connection building between the two of you

cw. huge cock!Sukuna, mild dubcon at first, size kink, dirty talk, oral, fingering, squirting, manhandling, creampie, praise, tits play, belly bulge, cumflation, 69, doggy, mating press + plot twist | wc. 6K

cw. lower-ranking incubus!Yuji — Yuji is Sukuna’s underling

an. Sukuna in his incubus form has 4 arms and horns + his usual tattoos — rbs + interactions are appreciated — m.list

There is a sculpture at the entrance to the private college you attend.

A beautiful naked woman lying on what is supposed to represent a bed trying to push away a monstrous being, with horns and wings, who wants to lie with her.

You have always found the work interesting. The way the artist carved into the white marble the woman’s frightened expression, the draping of the sheets beneath her, the scary being laying its claws on her flesh.

“You’ve been looking at this statue for three years, it’ll be there tomorrow too,” the blonde’s voice made you wrinkle your nose, “the new sensei is coming today, come on, I’m curious”.

They were all in trepidation for the arrival of the new art history teacher. The only man who would be present inside the women’s college you’ve been attending for three years now. Everyone had been talking about him for weeks and finally, after winter break, he had arrived.

The art room had never been so full and after getting a glimpse of the new sensei you could see why.

He looked anything but like a teacher. His pink hair was pulled back tied in a small bun, his tattooed arms were clutched in the white t-shirt he wore, and his biker boots pulled tight around his ankles.

Something about him made your stomach tickle as the lessons got deeper.

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𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐚 𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐜𝐚𝐤𝐞. | 𝐠.𝐬.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: gojo satoru x reader ft. megumi fushiguro

𝐰𝐜: 1.4k

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: its a piece of cake to bake a cake, as long as you follow the recipe—or, gojo satoru was never the best at following instructions, but at least he tries.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬/𝐜𝐰: fluff, hurt/comfort, fear of growing up, minor existential crisis, one suggestive line, no-curse au, gojo adopts megumi au (?), pls let me know if I miss anything!

𝐚/𝐧: this was supposed to be comedic but it ended up being a bit sad LMFAO im actually a little scared to post this bc I had no beta review this...ill probably post it and never look at it again lol but pls let me know what you thought!

Constant huffing, with a desperate groan sprinkled here and there, caught your attention the moment you set foot inside the apartment. All lights, except for the kitchen's, were turned off. A distinct smell of baked goods—or slightly burnt goods, if you will—filled the entranceway, and you followed blindly.

Finally gracing the kitchen with your presence, the image in front of you left you mildly speechless. In front of you, was Gojo Satoru, hair tousled and hands shaky, his back was bent over at a weird angle so his eye line would match the edge of the counter, all his attention was on steadying the piping bag he held with a shaky hand.

It was adorable, the way the tip of his tongue would poke out, with his brows furrowed in the utmost concentration. Multicoloured icing stained his pretty face, highlighting the roundness of his cheeks. He held in a breath as if that would make his piping technique any less disastrous.

Still, despite how cute Satoru looked trying to make fancy patterns with dainty nozzles, seeing your boyfriend trying to do anything remotely kitchen-y threw you off. You wouldn’t say he was banned from entering the premises, but unless he intended to grab a snack—which meant taking the whole container of sugar to the couch and eating spoonfuls of it at a time while watching over-the-top dramas—he wouldn’t be caught dead cooking up anything more complicated than a bowl of cereal.

Lighting pans on fire, somehow fucking up any sort of boxed mac-n-cheese and burning a hole into Nanami's shirt that one time you decided to host a dinner party was enough to name Gojo Satoru as an absolute menace—and not in the fun kinky way.

So, you couldn’t really help but reveal yourself to him without giving it much thought. After all, he looked like he was in dire need of aid, and you were slightly needy after dropping Megumi off at the Itadori’s for a sleepover. Imagine your surprise when rather than being met with your usually clingy boyfriend, you were faced with Gojo Satoru, the newest member of The Great British Bake-off, instead.

“What are you doing?”

If looks could kill, your funeral invites would be ready by tomorrow morning. You could read the news headlines already, Cold-blooded murder! Find out what happens when you ruin your boyfriend’s piece of cake.

“What am I doing?! I’m trying my best!” He whined, placing one of his hands on his hip.

Now that he stood up to his full height, you could appreciate the image of him more clearly. The icing covered most parts of his face, varying from pastel to vivid colours. Over his lounging clothes, he was wearing the frilly pink apron he had bought for Nanami as a joke. It was a bit big on him, his built objectively smaller than that of his friend, but the pretty pink colour matched his azure orbs, made them pop—it reminded you of that time he let Megumi and his friends do his makeup with the chalky palette Nobara had brought to play with. You would’ve relished in the memory of Gojo getting his skin irritated by the spongy eyeshadow applicator if it wasn’t for the groan of frustration ripping through his pillowy pout.

“Baking is stupid, and I hate it.” He punctuated his statement with a slight kick of his foot. As soon as you left, fussing over Megumi and repeatedly checking whether he packed his toothbrush, he had started pulling all sorts of baking utensils. Clanking bowls and measuring cups, random sized spatulas were all evenly spread out; aesthetically pleasing if you will.

How hard could it truly be? After watching you countless times dance around the kitchen, effortlessly mixing up ingredients while humming a tune, he was sure this would be just another easy-peasy-lemon-squeezy task. You would fall in love with him all over again, Shoko would probably stop smoking, and Suguru would finally agree to add his initials—maybe even a picture of his face, who knows? —to his tattoo collection; everyone around him would be astounded, clapping and cheering, all because of his impeccable culinary skills.

Right?

Wrong

Baking was harder than you, and most people on those cooking shows made it seem. It wasn't just about tossing random powdery ingredients onto a bowl. No, they had a designated order apparently, who would've thought. But alas, he managed to mix some cake batter with decent consistency and shove it in the oven without giving it much thought. Fortunately for him, making icing was even harder! The universe was definitely on his side on this one.

The half-hearted laughter he let out was painful to hear, a wet smile gracing his features. It took you less than a second to react; his silence meant he was beating himself up, and you'd rather die than let his mind mill him to a pulp.

With gentle steps, you walked around the island counter. Leaning against the sink next to him, you grabbed his sticky hand in comfort. Rubbing circles with your thumb always seemed to calm him down.

“I—” He sighed, sounding almost defeated as he looked at the mess he made. The number of times he had scraped frosting from the cake had sanded it down considerably; reusing the same frosting to the point where the crumbs had thickened the original texture. Moreover, the constant mixing could only result in a chaos of colours. He had run out of ingredients to make some more icing, so he had to make do with the shades of brownish-green, grey, and pastel blue—that somehow had managed to survive the massacre. “I was just baking a cake for Gumi,”

“I know he went over to Yuuji’s to celebrate his birthday at midnight and all that,” he refused to make eye contact with you, staring at the ceiling like the solution to his dilemma would come out of the paint-covered concrete. “But I- I just wanted him to come back home to something sweet, you know? Sing happy birthday and all that.”

Lowering his gaze towards the floor, he made it seem as if he was cleaning icing from his face, instead of wiping the tears that threatened to spill.

“He’s growing so fast and I just,” he sniffled “I’m scared he’s starting to leave us— I don’t want him to leave us behind.”

Raising his hand to your mouth, you pressed a chaste kiss to his knuckles. You nuzzled yourself closer to his body, trying to eliminate as much space separating the both of you as possible.

“I think there’s a 24-hour market close by,” It felt like hours before you broke the silence. Sometimes all he needed was you, no words uttered, just sharing each other’s warmth. Sometimes he’d prefer the silence, and even so, it seemed like you always managed to sense whenever he was ready to come back to earth; face his fears and all that jazz. “They sell the pretty sparklers you both like.”

And it was after an arduous night of baking—appreciating the way you would guide his hands while whisking and pouring, patiently teaching him the basics; never mocking his mistakes, but softly giggling with him at the little mishaps, and sharing tender kisses here and there.

After opening the door, the next morning, holding the cake as Megumi made its way inside the house. Obnoxiously singing happy birthday, voice cracking in the you, as one does. Admiring the way, the sparklers lit up his pretty green eyes—that weren’t his nor yours but which, regardless of that, held speckles of your unconditional love.

After sharing what felt like the longest hug, and hearing bits and pieces of what he thought sounded like I love you, dad, thank you for being here.

After watching the way Megumi ran into your arms, whispering those same words to you—minus the word dad of course—and holding you tightly because it was also you who gave him the world.

It was after all that, that he felt the gap in his chest beginning to mend itself; the worries he had tried to bear on his own—because he refused to share such irrationalities for a while; you’d probably scold him for bottling up his feelings again—dissipating slowly.

It was inevitable. Megumi would leave you two eventually, but the love he felt for you would never extinguish; not as long as he lives.

— DARK SPRING

pairing. yuuta okkotsu x fem!reader

summary. yuuta is having relationship troubles, and he isn’t sure how to go about it. 

tags. established relationship, college au, mentions of blood, murder, yuuta pov, mentions of sex

notes. been in a yuuta mood ever since the cockroach chapter, and @vamptomura just gets me when it comes to him. this is just me procrastinating on my other writing. this isn’t edited btw I literally wrote this in like two hours rn.

wc. 2k+

“Where were you? I stopped by the shop to bring you food, but they said you weren’t in today.”

The door squeaks softly on its hinges as you slowly close it behind you. Once the door is fully closed and locked in place, the doorway remains tensely silent. Yuuta watches as you turn to him fully with slightly widened eyes, lips opening and closing as you struggle to answer. 

He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he finds himself relishing in the upper hand that he has over you right now. Just this morning you had told him on your daily phone call that you’d be busy at work later tonight. That usually meant you two wouldn’t see each other until the next day, but you’ve been so distant lately that Yuuta’s been yearning for you more than usual. He ached to see you, even if it was just picking up food from your favorite restaurant and dropping it off at the bookstore. It’s still packaged and bagged, now sitting cold on your kitchen counter. 

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no need to be brutal

||  getou suguru x reader || T || hurt/comfort ||  wc: 4.6k || ao3  ||

There’s no need to be cruel to yourself. Suguru reminds you of this.

minors, antis, and ageless blogs dni

a/n: hurt/comfort with suguru!! AU where everyone lives/nobody dies. no spoilers! just some happy, jujutsu tech moments. student is a student, prolly a third year but its unspecified. 

warnings: unhealthy coping with drugs and alcohol, reader’s body size is referenced (wearing getou’s clothes, being picked up, etc) 

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Ok but I legitimately love venti using outdated sayings and phrases?? Like omg that’s so good. Lol imagine him saying the riptide of mortal blood thing to diluc, and then dilucs reaction to the explanation that venti gives when diluc asks what the FUCK he was talking about. Like, I just love people remembering that venti is 1) very very old, and 2) lived through very violent times in his life, along with the fact that he actively took part in at least 2 wars

More Archon War Era Venti Headcanons  one three four

For real though like the potential is endless and i just really like to think of the impact that especially the Archon War could have had on Venti's character!

.... im totally gonna expand on this now-

archon war spoilers

Imagine him taking a break between each battle, retreating to Mondstadt and composing a new song, one to play when he next sets out to fight, to kill. Because even by his own hand it would be a shame to let those who fought so hard for survival to be forgotten, so he does what he can, a divine song for each civilization he wiped out, the chorus leading the four winds to descend and carry on their memory for eternity on the very wind that caused their fall.

some see his retreat as weakness and attempt to ambush him in his own domain, a dishonorable battle fought in silence. The people of Mondstadt and Teyvat as a whole need not remember those who chose to stoop so low.

Some of these songs get picked up by other bards, carrying on as Venti had hoped, but many of them are forgotten, especially during his 1000 year sleep. But every so often, an especially giften musician with have a burst of inspiration, as if whispered to them by the wind. Those who know him look to Venti with concern as his eyes turn glassy at the familiar sound of a civilization whose memory he thought he had failed. He laughs it off, dramatically wiping his tears with a comment about how the music was just that beautiful that he couldn't help but be moved, "i couldn't have wrote a better song myself"

"let the wind lead" had a very different meaning during the Archon War. I headcanon that when in battle Venti took on his sprite form. To have anyone associate his dear friend with the carnage and terror of battle was the last thing he wanted, so sprite form it is. because of his small size, his presence was almost unnoticeable, which is why he survived so long without so much as a hand being laid on him. But one god noticed it- as four massive figures descended, in the very center, almost invisible was a concentrated presence of wind energy, absorbing and relocating energy to the four with the ever present song. And the god ran- survived, and spread the key "let the wind lead" in hopes that someone would be strong enough to avenge his people. This phrase almost cost Venti his life a number of times. Nobody knows its origin now but Venti still internally cringes each time he hears it.

Venti preferring to be outdoors and sleep in trees and such not only because he's the god freedom but because if hes indoors he wont be able to tell if someone's coming, he wont be able to get in the air in time, and he might be too late

I also headcanon that Venti is the ones who supplies Zhongli with Xiao's painkillers, since Zhongli doesn't actually have any healing abilities, and Venti is proved to have an affect on that

which leads into the next point- "but where are those who share the memory?" remember Venti's wine obsession... Venti and Zhongli - and Xiao on the occasion he can be convinces to leave his duties- getting together to speak freely, not having to watch their words, not having to be reminded 'oh right, that doesn't exist in people's memories anymore' every time. Just finally being able to reminisce, talk about the people and the things that they can no longer speak about to anyone else, speak about that which no-one else would understand. They're understanding yes, but there are very few people who can empathize with you as you talk about how you still remember that one battle where the sheer volume of blood spilled by your hand cause the calla lilies to bloom red for centuries, the tint never going away even now. Some random kid: huh i wonder why they fade to red like that Venti: why that's the blood of my enemies of course! ehe, just kidding! *looks at camera like in the office*

A lot of people view Venti as extremely superstitious because he believes and follows a lot of them, but it's because he remembers where the superstitions came from. He knows that during the archon war, breaking a mirror truly could set that god's wrath on you and simultaneously reveal your identity and location to them, that knocking on wood alerted the past Dendro archon, a benevolent god of protection to guard your words from prying eyes, at least until they were were found and killed. Venti just continues to follow them to honor their memory\.

Splintered Heart

Pairing: Kazuha x reader, Ayato x reader (could be both in a way?)

Genre: Arranged marriage, angst

✧ this a Fu Hua theme blog✧

Kazuha's pinky is curled around yours, a soft smile on his face as his cheeks are painted with a faint blush.

"Together, forever." He grins as you blink at him surprised before nodding your head as you return his excited smile as you look at the strand of grass tied around your ring finger.

You look back at him as you could see the love in his gaze as he stares back at you. "Together, forever."

He leans in to give you a tiny peck on the cheek as you both smile shyly at each other.

Oh, the ignorance of children.

"Y/n, will you be able to sign these in Ayato's place? I can't seem to find him." You look back to see Thoma scratching the back of his head, in his hands are a few documents that needed to be signed. Smiling, you nod your head, "of course, here let's go to my office." You says, Thoma following closely behind as you pass some of the guards who give him a side glance but you pay no attention to them.

"So you say that you can't find Ayato anywhere?" Glancing back, Thoma nods his head and you look back with a tiny smile on your lips. Fulling knowing where he was at, he was with that Oni friend of his, Itto, so you decided that he can rest and you'll take on the workload for today.

"I see, that's unfortunate but no worries. I will take on the work for today so let's get to work shall we?"

You open the door and he closes it behind him, your hand gesturing him to sit down as you look over the documents.

"Will these be all? Or is there anymore?" You read the papers, your eyes scanning the words before you read a familiar request. Narrowing your eyes at this but don't say anything, you just sign the paper with your signature, making sure it was neat and formal.

"Those will be all of now."

Thoma stands up and hands you a box that usually keep stored away unless it was needed. Unlocking the box, you pull out a Dendro vision and clip it to the back of your kimono's ribbon.

"Since it was Ayaka's request to see a demonstration welcome event for any travelers that may come to visit, I will go today." You say, making sure the vision wouldn't fall out before walking outside.

"You can stay here and rest, Thoma. I'm sure you're tired from running around doing errands for everyone." You could see him shaking his head, "no, there's no need my lady."

You let out a laugh at this, and he sighs, knowing he won't win this. "Alright, I'll stay here and relax. But at least let me see you out."

You two walk out estate and over to the entrance, "I'll be back soon make sure to make dinner and prepare a bath for Ayato when he return!" You wave at him before walking away, humming a tune to yourself as you walk through the forest, ignoring the Hilichurls that seem to hide at your presence.

Holding onto the papers, you walk all the way to the city to find people already getting the decorations ready.

Ayaka notices you from afar and she runs towards you, "Y/n, I didn't think you would accept my request." She says surprised, you hand her the paperwork, which she looks over to see your signature on it. She smiles at this shyly, but it was filled with thankfulness. You knew she loved anything related to flowers and always loved seeing you in action with your vision.

You grin at this, ruffling her hair softly before getting your wrists ready, "come on, we're familiar, it's been like that for years." You say, "anyways, let's go to Ritou to practice that grad opening you have planned out. I've been itching to use my vision again."

She nods her head at this.

The two of you head over there, making small talk between you two until you spot a few children who seemed to have spotted you. Their small legs carry them to you two and behind your fan, you smile as Ayaka gives you a side glance.

"Y/n! Y/n! We haven't seen you in a long time!" They chirp happily and with a snap of your finger, all of them are holding their favorite flower and they're at awe at this.

"You have cool powers! I wished I get a Dendro vision too so I can have powers like you." You giggle at this, brushing off their compliments with a wave of your hand. "Nonsense, you're all worthy for a better vision but enough of that, you four will help me and Ayaka with the hard entrance of the festival for all the new people visiting, how about it?"

The joyful glint in their eyes was enough to know their answers, so you walk forward with Ayaka behind you shortly, the children behind her as well.

"We get to help!" People around you all watch in disbelief.

"Lady Y/n seems to be more healthy this year," a pair of woman whisper to each other, one of them smack their lips together, "can't she just drop dead already? Isn't that like her illness or something? Surely Lord Ayato would want a healthy wife—"

Speak of the devil, here he comes.

"On the contrary, she's the perfect wife by far. It would be a shame to let a woman like herself slip through my fingers." Ayato's voice is hard behind them and they freeze up, they were caught taking ill about his wife, especially that they wished for death upon her.

"We're sorry, my lord, we were just joking—" they tried to play around but the stern look on his face was enough to say he didn't believe them.

Despite his formally and polite appearance to the public, he glares at them with disgust, "I advise to not talk ill about my wife in such a manner again or else I will be taking action against you two for making such death threats." He scoffs, walking away as he follows his sister and Y/n from a distance, smiling as he watches the h/c haired laughing happily with his little sister.

"No one is to judge you, my dear, they don't have the slightest idea what you have been through." He says to himself. "The heart breaks and cruelty...."

He sees you grow flowers of all kinds as Ritou is soon filled with them and he knees down to pick up a Cecelia, "....someone like you deserved better."

A/n: reposting this cuz I was shadowbanned and if this does well, I'll post the second part just to see I'm not still shadowbanned in a way.

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