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you've got a text! looks like you're about to spend your summer on everyone's favorite trashy reality dating show searching for love (...or that cash prize at the end) will a certain pretty (annoying) blue-eyed boy catch your attention? or perhaps his dark-haired best friend? it seems this villa has a few bombshells in store too!
pairings: Gojo x Reader, Geto x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Choso x Reader
content: MDNI, fluff and smut and light angst, making out, piv sex, handjobs, fingering, oral (m! + f! receiving), threesome, silly summer fun, references to reality tv tropes ofc, lots of games/challenges inspired by love island, secondhand embarrassment, jealousy, evil TV show producers (cough gege cough), misc random jjk pairings as background couples, lots of teasing and tension, friends-to-lovers, exes-to-lovers, you name it, it's probably here lol
polls will go up to determine who goes on dates and challenges with our reader - it's up to you to decide who gets sent home or who gets saved at the end of certain episodes! first poll posted here, future polls will all be tagged with #re: coupled up! <3
creds: gorgeous art by @baobei-bu and divider by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more
patreon is here with additional original content for anyone who feels like supporting me a little extra :3
You’ve been ignoring him for exactly three hours and forty-two minutes.
Not that you’re counting.
Your phone is face-down on your bed, screen lighting up every couple minutes with his name before going dark again. You don’t touch it, you refuse to because he deserves it.
He really does.
You sit cross-legged on the floor, aggressively reorganizing something that absolutely did not need reorganizing, muttering under your breath.
“Stupid… arrogant… can’t even say sorry properly…”
A knock interrupts you.
You freeze.
Another knock, smaller this time, almost softer.
“…go away,” you mumble, not even looking up.
The door creaks open anyway.
“…hi.”
That voice is not Sukuna’s.
You blink, turning your head, and there he is. Little Yuji. Tiny, pink-cheeked, messy hair, clutching something behind his back like he’s on a secret mission.
Your anger falters instantly. “Yuji?” you soften, sitting up straighter. “What are you doing here?”
He shuffles in, shutting the door carefully behind him like it’s very important he does it quietly. “Um… I came to fix it,” he says, very seriously, like this is the most important task of his life.
Your brows knit. “Fix what?”
He walks over, small steps, then stops right in front of you. His little hands finally come forward, revealing a slightly crumpled drawing.
It’s… you.
And Sukuna.
And Yuji.
All holding hands.
There’s a big, messy red heart drawn over all three of you.
You stare at it. “…Yuji…”
“I made it,” he says quickly. “So you won’t be mad anymore.”
Your chest tightens. “I’m not mad at you,” you say gently.
“I know,” he nods. “You’re mad at him.”
A pause.
“…yeah.”
Yuji looks over his shoulder, like he’s checking for something, then leans in closer to you and whispers-
“He’s really sad.”
You almost scoff, but Yuji keeps going.
“He was walking around and being all grumpy and didn’t even yell at me when I spilled juice,” he says, eyes wide like that’s the ultimate proof. “That means he’s super sad.”
Your lips twitch. “…Did he send you here?”
Yuji hesitates. “…no,” he says. Then quieter, “I just… heard him talking.”
Your heart dips a little. “What was he saying?”
Yuji scrunches his face, trying to remember. “Um… he said… ‘she’s being stupid,’” he starts, and you immediately roll your eyes-
but then he continues-
“…and then he said ‘I messed up.’”
You still. Yuji looks up at you, hopeful. “And then he said he didn’t know how to fix it,” he adds softly. “So I’m fixing it.”
That hits harder than you expect. You look back down at the drawing in your hands, tracing the uneven lines of the three of you. “…he’s bad at apologizing,” you murmur.
“Yeah,” Yuji nods seriously. “He’s bad at a lot of things.” You laugh a little at that.
Silence settles for a second, then Yuji gently pushes the drawing closer into your lap.
“So you forgive him now?”
You hesitate. “…I don’t know.”
His face drops just a little.
“…okay,” he says, but he doesn’t move away.
Instead, he climbs right into your lap like he belongs there, arms wrapping around your middle in a tight little hug.
“He really likes you,” he mumbles into your shirt.
Your breath catches.
“I know he’s mean,” Yuji continues, completely unfiltered, “but he only does that when he’s scared or dumb.”
You choke out a laugh. “Or both,” he adds helpfully.
“…that sounds about right.”
Yuji pulls back just enough to look at you. “So… you don’t have to forgive him a lot,” he negotiates, very serious again. “Just a little bit. Like this much.”
He pinches his fingers together, showing the tiniest gap.
You stare at him.
God.
You sigh, your anger melting in slow, helpless pieces. “…fine,” you mumble. “A little bit.”
Yuji gasps like you just granted a miracle.
“Really?!”
“Yeah, yeah,” you smile, brushing his hair back. “But don’t tell him I said that.”
Yuji grins. “…too late.”
The door behind you creaks again.
You turn-
And there he is.
Sukuna.
Leaning against the frame like he hasn’t moved in ages, arms crossed, trying to look unaffected, but his eyes give him away immediately.
Relieved.
Careful.
Hopeful, even.
“…you sent a five-year-old to do your job?” you raise a brow.
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bakugou finds a list you made before you dated him
“one. big cock and knows how to use it. two and it’s in all caps. EATER.”
you rest on your forearms on your sofa, looking across the living room to your boyfriend who has appeared from your bedroom. he’s reading a crumpled sheet of paper from god knows where with a massive grin on his face.
“did you get the fan from my room? katsuki, it’s hot!” you whine petulantly. you've got your thin shorts and bralette on, trying to fight the heatwave that has taken over your city.
the heat has beat you down, left you stranded in your living room with three ice lolly packets in your path and skin sticky. you can feel the sweat trickle down your spine, you can see it gathered on katsuki’s exposed forehead, yet he still stands there reading.
“hold on, i’m lovin’ this,” he says, gold tooth shining as his mouth stretches wider, “three. rich and generous with it. is that right? you with me for my cock and money?”
you blink at him a few times, trying not to get distracted by his shirtless bare chest or the black headband he’s got on to push his unruly blonde locks back. he’s handsome, deliciously so. still, you think back to why everything he’s saying is so familiar.
“four. handsome. deliciously so. body and face. rare,” bakugou laughs, boyish and booming, “thanks, babe.”
you feel uncomfortable, perspiration dribbling between your breasts, limbs heavy with exhaustion.
“what is that? what are you reading?”
still bakugou ignores you and continues reading from the paper, “five. successful and ambitious. six. good friend even though he pretends he’s not. protective!! seven. so gentlemanly, holding open doors, paying for dates, very clear on why he likes me.” ruby pupils flicker over to you, “that last one is bare minimum.”
then it clicks, about seven points too late. your head snaps over to him robotically, eyes about to fall out of your head. “where the hell did you find that! stop reading it! stop katsuki!”
you hop up from your seat on your sofa, speed like no other taking over you as you run across the room to grab at the paper in bakugou’s hands. his laugh only booms louder, holding the flimsy sheet in the air over your head as you jump like a child.
“seriously, don’t read anymore!” you shout, trying to hoist yourself up his larger body, using his arms and shoulder as a climbing frame.
nothing about bakugou budges, he just continues reading with the paper in the air.
“it’s getting good, baby!” he laughs, ignoring your jumps and furrowed brows, “eight. listens to me. really listens. makes me feel heard and remembers what i say.”
he looks down at you, whose fingertips are slapping the bottom of the paper. you recognise it all too clearly now. the pink ruled lines, the edges ripped out from one of your old notebooks. your handwriting. “that’s cute. i still listen to you, don’t i?”
“you’re not now! give it back!”
“i’m almost done, two more,” bakugou says, hooking his arm behind your back to keep you locked close to him. you’re both sweaty and sticky. you’ve got no choice but to listen, “nine. cooks. such a good cook! you added five exclamation marks there. ten. fulfils some of my love languages. some?”
“now stop.” you urge. he can’t turn the paper around. he can’t.
bakugou pecks your forehead, his cheeks blushed with all the compliments. he continues skimming the list, rereading it.
“so this is why you chose to date me, huh?” he looks down at you, pouts his lips, “c'mon gimme a kiss.”
if you just grab it out his hands, he won’t see the other side. with pros always comes—
he stops pouting at you.
“give me the paper. i wrote this all a few years ago!”
“if these are the pros, where’s the cons? you must have done a cons list.”
you shake your head, side to side. he holds the paper away from you. the opposite side, the list of all your cons, written back at you. you loop out of his arm, trying to reach for it.
he notices you staring, eyes fixated and that’s when he flips the paper around. CONS in big red capital lettering.
“this is private! you weren’t meant to see this, you shouldn’t be snooping in my room!” you squeak but bakugou’s already half down the page, pupils running across every line like he’s in a race.
“one. WILL choose his job over me—,”
“well obviously, your job is to save the world!”
“two. odd relationship with his mother? but apparently it’s better than before.”
“it’s so much better now!”
bakugou’s eyebrows drop now, voice getting lower as he continues, “three. argumentative. argues with EVERYONE. his agency workers, the media and his friends.”
“i understand why you argue with them all now! it makes sense!”
“three. his job is terrifying.”
bakugou looks over to you, solemn narrowed eyes and you don’t have a positive word to say about that.
“it is, sometimes i don’t know if you’ll come home.”
“four. he doesn’t do much else besides work. all his friends are from work.” bakugou pinches his nose bridge, “really? you think that?”
“now i don’t! and i know they’re childhood friends and… and we do things together all the time. i know you love to read, game, you’ve got your lego. i didn’t know all of that then.”
“five. don’t know if my friends and family will understand.” bakugou steps away from you, “the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
you huff on the spot, “this was from when i met you! all they’ve seen of you is shouting and yelling on the television. they didn’t know how lovable you are. how well you treat me.”
bakugou looks at you, then back at the paper. scratches his head. “six. inexperienced with sex but it’s really cute. has never had a girlfriend?”
“but number one pro is that you know how to use it. obviously we’re experienced now, we know everything about each other,” you flick your finger between you and your boyfriend.
“and the girlfriend comment? i can’t help the fact you’re my first.”
“no, i mean yes i know that. it was just a question as to why. it doesn’t mean anything to me now.”
“but it was a factor in whether you wanted to be my girlfriend,” he states.
“well, yeah,” you drawl, “i thought maybe there was a reason as to why. that’s all.”
bakugou raises his eyebrows, looks back at the sheet, “seven. doesn’t always have time for me. travels a lot for work.”
“that hasn’t changed.” bakugou grunts. it’s something he knows you struggle with while dating him. it’s even been a conversation you’ve had a few times throughout your relationship. quality time. you want to spend more time with him but he simply can’t.
you sigh, grabbing his chin between your fingers so he looks directly at you. his eyes are half lidded, cheeks red and exhausted from the negativity and heat. “we’ve been through this. i’m still gonna stick by you, everything i love about you means more than all the things i find difficult.”
he takes your palm away from your face and squeezes it. but you can tell he’s feeling off. “the last one. eight, he’s surrounded by beautiful women all the time.”
“you’re with celebrities, pro heroes, socialites a lot,” you shrug, “that was jealousy on my part, nothing to do with you.”
“i don’t give a fuck about any of that.”
you nod sharply, “i know! i wrote this a while ago, two years even? a lot has changed.”
bakugou sighs from the pit of his stomach, then flings his head back in a huff. “fuck, baby.” he groans.
then he looks down at you, looking up at him.
“just wanna put it out there, that was private, you weren’t meant to see that, my opinions have now changed and i’m sure you had a mental pro con list for me. i just wrote mine down.”
bakugou folds the paper, “yeah, yeah, i get it. you hate my job that much, huh? it covered half of the fuckin’ cons.
“i also said i liked you were successful and ambitious.” you sit on the back of the sofa, crossing your arms.
bakugou mirrors you standing, crossing his arms too. “but nothing about my job has changed since we’ve got together.”
you groan, leaning your head on your shoulder, “katsuki, i think you’re making problems out of nothing here.”
“you made a list of the problems with datin’ me.” he frowns, holding the folded paper between two fingers.
“and a list of the reasons why i wanted to date you. obviously the good reasons won if i’m with you now.” you glare at him with a sharp tone.
he begins to pace around the room, paper still in hand. a terrible sign. you watch as sweat trickles down his skin, body flush with heat.
“but, babe. the problems you’ve had with me from before we were dating are still problems now. i still don’t have time for you, you still are terrified every time i’m minutes late from a mission, you don’t think i’d choose you over my job and you don’t think i do anything but work.”
you moan aloud, “and i still want you despite that all. i get the world needs you, heck, i need you if i come across a villain. i don’t hate you for being a hero.”
he stops behind you, on the other side of the sofa, “i don’t want you to resent me when you realise you could have been with someone who does have more time for you, isn’t obsessed with their job, can put you first and doesn’t scare you.”
you hop off the sofa. leaning your forehead on his collarbone. “katsuki. i wouldn’t be here if i didn't want to be. i love you. i choose you everyday. i don’t want to argue with you.”
bakugou doesn’t touch you. there’s a shake to his voice, “i’m sorry i’m not better. i’m gonna try to be. just wait for me, fuck, maybe when i’m slower and the younger lot take over, they’ll need me less. it’s just now—,”
“it’s okay. you have time for me right now but you wanna argue with me," you pout up at him.
“you did put that i’m argumentative,” he looks away from you as your hands link around his neck.
“look at me.”
shiny lava red pupils find you. you ground him, takes him out of the what ifs and the failures of his past and places him in the present with you.
“i have dated bakugou katsuki for two years and i love him so much. i love how kind and generous he is, always putting his loved ones first. how he dedicates his life and body to saving the world. how even if he’s tired from a long week of working, he still comes over to cook me a three course meal because he wants to see me eat his food. who was so open and willing to change for me. to change his routines and learn my body. who is argumentative because he wants to make things right. who wanted so hard for my family and friends to love him and manages to see his mother once a week just to check up on her.”
you search in both his eyes and he’s listening, he always is.
“i can write an updated list for you, if you want.”
he shakes his head, stuffs his forehead into your neck and slowly pushes you down into the sofa. you laugh, his hands plastered into your waist as his body crushes you in the plush cushions ever so slightly.
“‘m sorry. i shouldn’t have read it. even though i enjoyed the pros.” he muffles, lips tickling your skin.
you tap his shoulder. “you shouldn’t have but it’s okay. i still need you to get my fan. it’s hot.”
“promise you’ll tell me if you want somethin’ to change between us. i’m not wakin’ up one day to you leavin’ me for a reason right under my nose.” he urges and you can see him pleading. the desperation for you to agree.
“promise. now you promise me.”
“course i promise. i couldn’t even fill out ten reasons as to why i hate you.”
“i didn't say i hate you. and sure you can. you hate my cold feet. you hate how i moan about my job. you hate how i hate your job. you hate how i always want a massage. you hate how i wait until the last minute when you’re tucked up in bed for you to get me a glass of water. you hate how i’m indecisive for what i want for my birthdays and—,”
bakugou sits up, “i don't hate any of that shit. love listenin’ to you and half that shit is cute as hell.”
you pout, “you hate when i wear low cut tops out—,”
he frowns, “that’s foreplay, baby. you let me suck your tits after to make me happy. couldn’t give a shit what you wear.”
“how about how protective my friends are? and the fact i tell them everything?”
bakugou shrugs, “you deserve friends that love you that much and that you can tell everythin’.”
“i get snappy when i’m running late or too much is going on or i’m hot.”
with that bakugou gets up. your fan. though not without hovering over you to give you a peck. then another. you press your soft lips against his though you don’t open up because then you will get even hotter and snappy.
he pulls off you and rises from the sofa, “that makes sense, baby. you’re stressed and uncomfortable.”
you roll your eyes, “stop being so understanding!”
he walks towards your bedroom, but not without turning around to look at you. his fingers grip the door frame, “i love you.”
You’re sitting on the cold river bank, the smell of sunscreen clinging to your warm skin. Cicadas hum lazily in the background, mixing with the sound of rushing water and loud, overlapping voices.
You watch the boys splash around in the river, shoving each other like kids, yelling all kinds of nonsense, all laughing so hard they can barely stay afloat.
You can’t help the smile that settles on your lips, soft and warm, like the sun kissing everyone’s skin.
“Y/N!” Makki suddenly yells, making you flinch hard, “Get in here!”
You roll your eyes immediately, “Is it still cold?”
Issei snorts before anyone else can answer, “Y’know, I’m beginning to think you can’t swim”, small smirk on his lips.
Your head snaps toward him instantly, “I can swim!” you defend, frowning.
You open your mouth.. Pause. Then close it again, “…I don’t wanna”
A chorus of BOOs immediately follows.
Iwa swims over, brushing water from his face as he reaches where you’re comfortably settled. He rolls his eyes at them before looking up at you, smiling softly.
“Ignore them,” he says, a little breathless, “Are you having fun?”
You crinkle your nose and glance back at the others now splashing water at each other, “yeah, I’m glad I came”
He plops down next to you, gently bumping your shoulder with his own, “I’m glad you did too”
And the admission has you both pink in the face, goofy smiles in place.
“Awwww,” Oikawa’s voice cuts through the moment instantly, “Are you guys gonna kiss now?”
Before either of you can react, cold river water comes flying at full speed.
You gasp so loud it startles even yourself, scrambling to stand.
“Toru!” you hiss, “It’s freezing!”
“Your body will adjust”, he rolls his eyes dramatically, “once you get in!”
Iwa snorts, rolling his eyes as the brunette swims away laughing, “…Wanna ride on my back?”
You raise an eyebrow, “You think I can’t swim?”
“Just offering”, comes the cool, casual reply
Your eyes linger on him for a second too long.
Water rolling down his neck.
Hair pushed back.
Broad shoulders already tanning under the sun.
Your mind wanders to his strong back, toned muscles…
And your stomach twists at the thought.
You look away immediately, cheeks already warming, “No thanks”
He laughs, the sound loud and easy, then he flashes you an annoyingly pretty grin, “Better hurry up then, I think they’re plotting to throw you in” he says, teasing tilt in his voice.
It’s then that you realize how oddly quiet it’s gotten.
Your eyes slowly lift, only to see them huddled up in a group, smirking at you.
“Don’t you fucking dare” you snap at the group, scrambling into the water toward Iwa.
The cold hits instantly and you hiss, grabbing onto his bicep for balance and immediately regretting it.
His arm flexes under your hand and you can’t help but let your mind wander.
Iwa looks down at where you’re holding him, smirking, “Cold?”
You squint at him, “Freak”
His eyebrows shoot up in surprise before he starts laughing, “What’d I do?!”
“Quit flexing!”
He quirks an eyebrow, toothy little grin on his face now, “You noticed that?”
Before you can respond, Issei’s swimming over, smiling real smooth, “Awww, lemme warm you up” he offers
You feel your heart stutter for a second, “You’re a freak too” you mutter, swimming off toward Oikawa and Makki.
Behind you, Issei lets out a loud laugh.
But you miss the way Iwa’s smile disappears for a second, the way he frowns at the other brunette.
Issei catches it instantly, sending him the most obnoxious grin imaginable.
Iwa clicks his tongue, “Lemme warm you up”, he mocks in an ugly little voice, “Shut the hell up”
Issei just grins wider, “If you’re not gonna make your move, it’s fair game”, he says before smirking and swimming off towards you.
Iwa scoffs, but his eyes drift back to you anyway.
You’re laughing now, the sound warm and light.
Issei starts swimming over and Iwa watches for exactly two seconds before following.
Before you know it, they’re both there.
You blink as Issei appears on one side of you and suddenly Iwa’s on the other.
You glance up to find Iwa frowning at Issei, while he grins back, your eyebrows furrowing.
“You guys good?” you ask.
Oikawa raises an eyebrow immediately, glancing at Makki.
Makki just rolls his eyes.
Idiots.
Iwa looks at you for a second before stepping closer, arm brushing yours in a way that definitely doesn’t feel accidental.
“Yeah,” he mutters, eyes still on Issei, “He’s just being annoying”
Issei gasps dramatically, then shoots him a shit eating grin.
A second later Iwa splashes him right in the face, a loud gasp escaping him.
Issei bursts out laughing, “Oh, so we’re playing dirty now?”
when osamu tells his five-year-old daughter that the tooth fairy isn't real, he, you, and atsumu team up to do damage control.
part nine of the after school series, a friends-to-lovers AU featuring you, osamu, and the relationship you build solo-parenting two girls in the same kindergarten class.
Osamu was fixing Kina's hair when it happened.
"Daddy — look!" the five-year-old exclaimed from where she sat criss-cross atop the bathroom counter. She leaned forward, pulled her lip down, and wiggled her bottom left incisor with her tongue. "My tooph!"
"I see that, sweetheart," her father chuckled, running a brush through her disastrous bed-head. "It's about to fall out any day now, by the looks of it."
"I can't wait," Kina giggled. She continued to poke and prod at her tooth like Atsumu did bruises that didn't heal right away. "I'm gonna get so much money!"
"Yeah?" Osamu hummed. Half listening to her. Half concerned by the brush now stuck in her hair. "And why's that?"
"Because the tooth fairy will come visit me, silly." Kina rolled her eyes at her father's lack of wherewithal. "When Yui's tooth fell out, the tooth fairy gave her sixteen-thousand yen!"
"Yui's parents must be rich, then," Osamu snorted absentmindedly. Damn. The brush just wouldn't budge. "Sweet of 'em to pretend like the tooth fairy's actually real, though."
At that, Kina grew quiet. So quiet, she didn't even flinch when Osamu finally yanked the brush from her hair. He almost cried out in triumph — that is, until he saw his daughter's pale, horrified face.
"Why would you say that to her?!"
"I dunno!" Osamu panicked, the sound of the late bell ringing sharply overhead. It wasn't often you crossed paths with Osamu during drop-off. But the moment you heard his New Balance sneakers racing toward you in the school parking lot, you knew you were in for an interesting conversation.
"I didn't get much sleep last night, and I was too busy tryin' not to make her go bald — " Osamu ran both hands down his tired face and groaned. "Do ya think she'll even remember what I said?"
"Oh, she'll remember," you chuckled. "I still remember when my father told me Santa Claus wasn't real. I cried the entire Twelve Days of Christmas."
"How do I fix this? What do I need to do?"
"Easy. You do what every well-meaning parent has done in the history of the world," you told him, folding your arms across your business casual. "You lie."
Osamu looked like he would rather eat a spoiled fish. "Really?"
"Really! As much as I want Misa to be a sensible adult, I don't mind stretching the truth every now and again before she gets there."
"Yeah? Like for what?"
"Oh, tons of things — Santa Claus. The tooth fairy. How positively wonderful her father is."
A cocktail of shock, amusement, and retroactive anger flashed across Osamu's eyes.
"Too soon?" you laughed, scratching the back of your head with your manicure. "What I mean to say is...there's no harm in preserving the magic for Kina a little while longer. The world is already shitty as-is. But she doesn't need to know that now."
Osamu's shoulders sank as he considered your words. The fierce protectiveness behind them.
"...fine. I see yer point," he conceded. "How do ya suggest we make it up to her, then?"
"Leave that to me," you reassured him, squeezing his bicep like you did your favorite stress ball. "All I need is some cardstock, a glitter pen, and my good ribbon. None of that cheap shit. Oh! And a little jar to memorialize the tooth."
"Memorialize the tooth? We're not just gonna toss it?"
"Toss it?" You looked as if you'd been slapped. "You mean to tell me that your baby's first tooth doesn't mean anything to you?"
"...yes? No? What on earth am I gonna do with — ya know what? Nevermind." Osamu frowned, recognizing this was an argument he could not win.
Instead, he merely reached out, squeezed your shoulders twice, and said, "I appreciate ya tryin' so hard. I'll take care of the tiny jar."
"Thank you." You smiled at him sweetly, unlocking your car with two sharp beeps. "I'll text you the details later!"
"What on earth are you doing?" Kuroo asked on his way back from the copy room. He blinked back at your assortment of scrapbook paper and glitter pens — the way your posture curved over your desk like a prawn's.
"What does it look like I'm doing?" you retorted, trimming the edges of the fairy illustration you'd licensed off Adobe Stock Images. "I'm crafting."
"...as a stress response?"
You frowned. "I'm decorating a money envelope from the tooth fairy, but I don't want Misa to know it's me."
"Ah." Kuroo pulled over his desk chair and eased into it with a chuckle. "Kiddo finally losing her baby teeth?”
"...no." You busied yourself trying to find a recycling bin. "It's uh...it's Kina, actually."
At that, your co-worker raised his eyebrows.
"Osamu's kid?"
"Yeah.” You shrugged. Briefly explained to him the situation. "She was heartbroken when he told her. I'm just trying to help him out."
"You've been 'helping him out' a lot lately."
Kuroo hooked an ankle over one knee and frowned, although you couldn't take his accusation seriously with those ridiculous socks of his. (Today's pair had a flock of ducks on them. Or were they geese?)
"The bake sale. His kid's school project. A new sign for his restaurant..." When you rolled your eyes, he added, "Don't think I haven't noticed you working on it between meetings!”
"So? I get all my other work done on time!”
"Not the point." Kuroo grinned. "You like him."
"I like a lot of things. Strong coffee, cheap manicures..."
"You like cheap manicures? Romantically? Intimately?"
"Intimately?" you hissed, whipping your head around the office floor. Mercifully, most people were out to lunch. "Are you asking me to report you to HR?"
Kuroo hummed behind his warm stack of copies and leaned back in his chair. You half-wished the cylinder would snap into two.
"When did you realize?"
His question caught you off-guard. Your eyes retreated to your desk. This silly art project that had consumed your entire lunch break.
"...it was the day of Misa's violin recital. I think."
The words, far too vulnerable for your liking, lingered in the air like a bad smell. Your face turned a deep shade of red.
"Why?"
You blew a raspberry. What could you possibly say to that?
“He makes my daughter laugh,” you eventually decided on. "He's there, but he doesn't have to be. He takes every single shitty thing I've ever thought about fatherhood and just...refutes it."
You folded your arms across your chest and glowered. "There. Happy now?"
"...wow.” Kuroo pushed his bottom lip out. “I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said about a man."
You picked up your stack of scrapbook paper and smacked him with it.
"Will you let me craft in peace now?” you begged. “Save the invasive questions for happy hour. Please."
"Whatever you say, Miss Tooth Fairy," Kuroo cackled, easing himself out of his chair and flipping through his stack of papers. "Also, I believe this is yours. I saw on the printer when I went to make copies."
You took the paper into your hands. Relaxed once you realized what it was.
"Thank you."
"No problem." He waggled his eyebrows before returning to his desk. "I'm holding you to that happy hour, by the way!"
The photo Osamu had taken of Misa at the sculpture garden was a new favorite of yours. It was by no means perfect — his thumb was in the bottom lefthand corner of the shot, and Misa had a bad habit of looking like a stiff Victorian child when photographed.
Regardless, a soft smile worked its way onto your face as you trimmed the photo to size, grabbed a thumbtack, and pinned it above your desk.
You found yourself staring at it the rest of the day.
The day after Kina lost her tooth, you stood outside Osamu's door. Misa on one hip. Pillow and blanket on the other. You'd packed your entire apartment into the overnight bag slung across your shoulders, and you briefly wondered if insurance would cover the chiropractor you now needed after hauling everything up three flights of stairs.
"Oh," you breathed at who answered the door. "I didn't realize you'd be here, too."
Atsumu's lips pulled into an offended frown.
"I know I'm not yer preferred twin, but ya don't need to sound so disappointed." He opened the door wider and hollered, "They're here!"
The smell of spices and freshly cooked rice filled your nose as you entered the apartment and kicked off your shoes. "You here to crash the girls' Tinker Bell marathon?"
"More like raid my fridge!" Osamu huffed from the kitchen. You snorted as Misa wiggled out of your grip and made a beeline for Kina's room. "Work treat ya well this week?"
Your conversation with Kuroo immediately flooded your memory. The tips of your ears turned pink as you found Osamu preparing dinner by the stove.
"Sure," you drawled as you approached. Took a peek at the potatoes, carrots, and chicken he stirred into the rich curry sauce. "Didn't get nearly as much done as I wanted to, though."
"Ya always say that," Osamu drawled. He met your gaze over his shoulder and smiled. "It's Friday. You've earned yer rest."
"I think I've earned three bowls of this delicious curry."
"That, too," he chuckled. His voice dipped beneath the roar of the exhaust hood. "Sorry about Tsumu, by the way. He heard I was makin' dinner and decided to crash."
"No, no! I don't mind. The more the merrier."
And, for a split-second, you meant it. The plan you'd pitched to Osamu was simple: have Misa over for a sleepover. Watch a couple nostalgic movies to set the tone. Swap out Kina's tooth for the money envelope you'd spent at least two hours of company time on, and voilà. Childhood magic restored.
You hadn't considered the fact that you'd basically invited yourself over. In fact, when Osamu texted you that the guest room was all set up and ready to go, you’d nearly evaporated from embarrassment.
Maybe it was better to have another adult in the room.
Across the apartment, the adult-in-question now frowned at the tooth Kina insisted on showing him. Osamu had given her a sample jam jar for her to put it in, and not a second passed without her brandishing it like a championship ring.
"Wow," Atsumu drawled, dark brows pulled into a concerned line. "That's...disgusting."
"Disgusting?" Kina squawked. She turned to your daughter for a second opinion. “Misa, do you think my tooth is disgusting?”
"I..." Your daughter's eyes locked onto yours in a blind panic.
You leaned over Osamu's kitchen counter and smiled. You can be honest.
"...maybe?"
"Maybe?!"
"It is!" Atsumu cried, gesturing to the tooth like it was a severed limb. "It's all bloody and shit!"
"Language!" Osamu ground out.
"You're just jealous the tooth fairy isn't coming to give you money," Kina told Atsumu, cradling the jar to her chest.
"And yer just lucky ya didn't swallow that damn tooth of yours in yer sleep,” her uncle retorted. He leaned in, a grin tugging on the corners of his lips. "Ya know what happens to kids who swallow their teeth in the night?"
Kina stumbled backwards a step, equal parts scared and defiant.
"What?"
"They turn into skeletaurs!" Atsumu cried. Kina's petrified shrieks rattled the apartment as he chased her around the living room, leaving a trail of discarded pillows and couch cushions in their wake.
"Alright, alright! Quit traumatizin' her," Osamu drawled after a while. He balanced a warm plate of food in one hand and yanked Atsumu back by the hood with the other. The athlete wheezed like a harmonica.
"If y'all want dinner and money from the tooth fairy," he warned — tone firm. Eyes sharp. "Then I suggest ya both clean up yer mess and sit the hell down."
They didn't need to be told twice.
Dinner proceeded just as chaotically — Kina demanding everyone apologize to her tooth. Atsumu asking your daughter one judgmental question after another ("Is this really who ya chose to be yer best friend?"). Misa stuffed her cheeks with a spoonful of curry and shrugged, as if she couldn't decide whether to be entertained or overstimulated.
"Is your family always this crazy?" she later asked Osamu during Tinker Bell and the Lost Treasure.
Atsumu and Kina were curled up on the air mattress at the foot of the couch, debating whether he'd be a tinker fairy or a fast-flying one. Meanwhile, Misa was tucked between you and Osamu on the sectional, sharing the blanket he'd warmed up in the dryer.
"Unfortunately," Osamu grumbled. He tossed a handful of movie-butter popcorn into his mouth and asked, "Why? Are they bein' too loud?"
"No!" Misa pursed her lips to one side. "I mean, yes, but...it's just mommy and me at home, so I don't mind."
Your expression crumpled beneath the faint glow of the television. Osamu reached over the back of the couch and squeezed your shoulder with his free hand.
You found yourself reaching for it a moment later. Appreciating its warmth. Quietly asking him not to move.
He didn't.
"Okay team," you stage-whispered in the kitchen later that night. You pinched open the money envelope and held it out to the twins. "Pay up."
Osamu counted eight thousand yen from his worn leather wallet and slid it into the envelope. Atsumu, after some protest ("What? She ain't my kid.), forked over eight thousand as well. You licked the envelope closed and secured it with a ribbon, the fairyland scenery you'd decoupaged on the front sticking slightly to your fingertips as you worked.
"Will we have to do this whole song-and-dance for the rest of Kina's teeth?" Atsumu grumbled.
"Oh, hush," you said. "Don't you remember how fun it was to lose a tooth as a kid?"
"Not really. All I remember was Samu chasin' me around with floss and the world's largest Nerf gun."
"Yeah..." Osamu rubbed the back of his neck with a sheepish grin. "That was pretty fun."
The sound of the girls' quiet snores filled the bedroom as you and the twins tiptoed inside — plastic toys scattered across the carpet. An orange nightlight plugged into its socket. Kina had already contorted herself into a position that couldn't have been comfortable, and Misa looked like she belonged in an ancient sarcophagus.
"Why does yer daughter sleep like a corpse?" Osamu murmured, frowning at her supine position.
"At least her foot isn't in anyone's face," you hissed, gesturing to the tiny heel pressed into Misa's cheek. "Can someone please move her?"
Atsumu slid both hands beneath his niece's sleeping frame and tried his best to roll her over. She wouldn't budge.
"I can't."
"You can."
"She's heavy."
"She's five!"
"Oh, for god's sake," Osamu grumbled, gathering his daughter into his arms and lifting her like a sack of flour. "We're fine. The girl sleeps like a goddamn log."
After you and Atsumu replaced Kina's tooth with the money envelope, Osamu practically swaddled her back into the blankets so she wouldn't move. The moment you all crept back outside and closed the door with a soft click, a collective sigh unfurled into the air.
"I never wanna do that again," Atsumu complained, handing Osamu the jar with a shudder. "The hell ya gonna do with a bloody tooth?"
"Dunno," his brother hummed, holding it up to the light. You swore a wistful shadow crossed his eyes in that moment. "Put it in a drawer somewhere?"
Atsumu shook his head before walking away. "Y'all are weird."
You exchanged soft, tired smiles with Osamu outside his daughter's bedroom door.
"Wanna watch a movie?" he suggested, tilting his head in the direction of the living room. "I'm logged in on all of Tsumu's accounts."
You blinked back at the question. "Are you sure? It's getting late."
"It's ten-thirty," Osamu huffed, gently nudging you in the ribs. "When's the last time you've watched a movie that wasn't rated PG?"
The pensive look on your face told him you couldn't remember. Osamu chuckled before padding back towards the couch in his socks.
"Come on," he teased, Atsumu already shoveling another handful of popcorn into his mouth. "The sleepover was yer idea, wasn't it?"
You'd become so fixated on preserving Kina's sense of childhood magic. But as you took in this apartment — the discarded toys on the floor, the leftover curry on the stove, the two grown men already bickering over which genre to watch — you realized her life was already full of it.
The thought made your chest flood with that same swell of emotion Kuroo had accused you of harboring just days before. But before you could fully succumb to it, you instead double-checked Kina's door, tucked your hair behind your ears, and went to go join the twins on the couch.
It would be another twenty minutes before you finally decided on a movie to watch.
contrary to popular belief, osamu miya is not any better than his twin brother, especially when he’s with you.
this must be your fourth date this month, and it’s barely even two weeks in. so, in order to save money, osamu proposes a little life hack. a cheat code, if you will.
“baby, i got this ring at a pawn shop,” he takes a small, rusty ring from his pocket and presents it to you as he continues, “i’ll pretend i’m proposin’ to ya and all ya gotta say is yes, okay? free dinner, easy peasy.”
you sigh, holding back your laughter as you pinch your temple. “‘samu, that’s unethical.”
“whaaaat? no way, come on, baby. we’ll get to go on dates more often if we do this,” he says, and you know you shouldn’t say yes. you should be the angel in this scenario, guiding him towards the right path. the path of the just and the good.
...but then again, why would osamu date you if you weren’t at least a tiny bit similar in terms of thinking?
“fine.”
“hells yeah!” he celebrates, looking around and waiting for one of the staff members to enter your vicinity. luckily, it doesn’t take long until a blonde girl walks to the table next to yours and starts cleaning up the leftover dishes the previous party has left behind.
osamu looks at you, grinning before he gets off the chair and gets on his knee. you cup your mouth with both your hands, seemingly in shock; though in reality, you’re doing it to prevent yourself from laughing like a madman.
“my sweet, beautiful, gorgeous girlfriend. i’ve loved you since i’ve known you, and i’ll love you for as long as i do. will ya marry me?”
and the restaurants’ guests just eat. it. up. the crowd cheers, much like how they do in his games, and they chant “yes, yes, yes!”
“yes!” you burst out in laughter, jolting out of your seat and hugging him. he lifts you up slightly before putting you back to the ground and kissing you, lips soft and at your mercy.
osamu puts a ring on your finger as the crowd yells and howls, and later that night, the manager approaches the two of you and tells you not to worry about the bill.
atsumu’s been rubbing off on your boyfriend too much.
and so this becomes a ritual, though you’re both careful not to overuse it. you reserve it for anniversaries and small celebrations, like his team winning a big tournament or you getting a high score from a grumpy professor.
and though it doesn’t always work, you guys at least get a little dessert on the house.
until one day, when you’re a high end, fancy restaurant. you’re wearing a silk, red dress with so much jewelry, you’re practically shining. the chandelier lights reflect off of his rolex watch, and you both have just finished eating.
“this place is really good, osamu. we should come here more often.” you take a sip of the wine, drinking in delight.
“yeah... hey babe, what’s that?” he points behind you and you turn immediately in curiosity.
“...huh? ‘samu, i don’t see anything,” you turn back around to face him, but lo and behold, osamu miya is down on one knee.
your eyes look around in shock, clearly taken aback. “wha— babe, we didn’t plan this?!”
“i know,” he chuckles, pulling out a ring similar to the one he bought at the pawn shop, except brighter, cleaner. with more diamonds than you could ever even imagine. “my love, i’ve loved you since i’ve known you, and i’ll love you for as long as i do. will ya marry me?”
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sukuna was tired of the bitchy girls he always had to deal with — wether they were from a one night stand or a girl that got hooked from his flirty antics, it always ends the same way — he rejects them and they run off to start rumors.
so yeah, he was done with girls. okay,maybe not completely, he still had some late night fucks after a party, but not without making clear that's where it ends. but other than that, he basically quit the game.
imagine his surprise when he fell in love with a stranger not even a week after that. yes, you heard that right, he the playboy himself fell in love. no less than with a girl he didn't even know before.
it wasn't an extraordinary day or night, just their usual frat parties where half the campus would come to drink or make out with someone. except this time, his eyes landed on a woman who couldn't look more out of place — even while being dressed up all pretty, a look on her face like she couldn't wait to get back home.
if someone told him that not even ten minutes after spotting you, he would have a conversation about how he had the perfect nipple atonomy for piercings, he would laugh or look at them like they were crazy. except this time, he's not laughing.
"i'm serious, have you never thought about it? they are like the perfect size and color." he's unsure how to respond — he's not even sure if he should answer at all.
"...no? i mean maybe? like one or two times." his usual confident, flirty voice falters, like it's the first time a girl talks to him without showering him in compliments. like he's expecting you to laugh it off and tell him you're joking.
well, you're not. "you probably should, dude. but don't let the same piercer as the one who did your eyebrow piercing do it. it's really off center." sukuna takes in second to replay your words in his head, and when they finally connect, he looks like he aged ten years.
"excuse me?"
you don't seem to notice his passive aggressive tone, or you just blatantly chose to ignore it. "yeah it should be way over here. yours almost looks like an centered one." you apparently also don't notice the way he genuinly flinches when you reach to point with your finger at the right placement.
he doesn't even try to look or understand where you're poking him — he's just looking at you with a dumbfounded expression. and god knows why, he felt fucking butterflies in his stomach, a warm feeling spreading in his chest.
there's just no way he, out of all people is feeling a spark because a girl is criticising his uneven piercing. he pushes the thoughts aside and a small smirk forms on his lips. "you know, that's not how i thought the conversation was gonna go."
and bless your heart, because you genuinly have no idea what's strange about this conversation. "oh, i'm sorry, did you want to talk about something else?" you sound extremly worried all of a sudden, like you didn't mean to hurt his feelings.
your strange personality doesn't seem to shy away the man infront of you — no, he's even more intrigued now. "how come i don't know the name of such a pretty girl?" it's supposed to be flirty, but sukuna should probaly have known better.
"that's probably because we never talked before. usually people tell you their name when you meet for the first time. otherwise people may think you're stalking them because that's kinda creepy knowing someone's name without asking y'know. but i know you're sukuna, not because im some weirdo who's stalking you it's just you're known as the community dick no offense intended."
the more you ramble on the more sukuna looks like any hope he had to take you to his room left his eyes. he probably should've known you wouldn't take the hint — definetly his fault. after a second of processing your speech his eyebrows shoot up in a mix of confusion and offense?
"...community dick?" his mouth open and closes like he wants to add something to his queestion but he has no idea what to say. the worried look on your face returns for the second time this evening, realising you're talking before thinking.
"no, yes, kind of? there's like nothing wrong if you like pleasuring women , actually that's like really nice of you, it's kinda empowering y'know like feminist and all."
any sign of seriousness leaves his expression and a rare sight for the fratking — a genuine laugh escaping him at your poor attempt of sweet talking yourslef out of calling him a slut.
there aren't many moments where sukuna actually really laughs when talking to girls — a charming smile being all it takes for most to drop their panties.however, it seemed like you had no interest in dropping anything at all.
except for your drink.
right on his bare chest.
it was an accident — truly, someone shoved you off balance and your drink spilled right on his abs, the sudden cold liquid making him hiss at the contact.
his eyes look down at his muscles seeing them drenched in a sticky substance, the alcohol making it's way down to wet his pants.
you gasp, hand covering your mouth. "oh my god — i'm so sorry. there are like no napkins anywhere near— wait i have an idea." he's about to tell you it's no big deal, he was shirtless after all — he could just jump into the pool or whatever but he stops dead in his tracks when you bend down.
right until you're face to face with his stomach.
he's about to ask you what you're doing — but freezes instead the moment your tongue darts out to lick the drink. "wh-what are you doing?" he sounds genuinely at a loss of words. you only answer after making sure no liquid would have time to go under his pants. "all good! your pants are totally save now no worries."
well he is worried — just not about his pants, but the boner he hopes you won't notice. he's unsure if this was supposed to be some kind of seducing tactic — but looking at your innocent expression he discards that idea. you really had just licked a man who you met ten minutes ago and looked like you had no idea how it looked to anyone watching.
there's a rare pink tint at the tips of his ears and he opens his mouth to say anything — but closes it once he realises he has no clue what to say. he also really doesn't know if he should feel as turned on as he is.
"thank you..?" it comes out like a question, like he's unsure if he should be thanking you. you're either ignoring his bewildered expression or you just don't even notice it at all.
"you're welcome. no prob." there's a moment of silence, neither of you knowing what to say until he breaks it.
"so is there a chance i can get your number?" to make sure you understand where he's going with this he adds, " romantically."
yeah he may have not thought the evening would turn out like this, but who is he to complain if his girl got a lil kick to her? after all — he still bagged the number.
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