𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒊.

it seemed you never grew tired of sex, unlike your husband.

that's not to say he doesn't like how often you want to fuck him. he'd never say no to you, especially not when you beg so sweetly, sometimes with a pout or twinkle in your eyes. the mere sight gets him ready to go in no time, previous tasks long forgotten.

he's just surprised, that's all.

nanami quietly rejected that he was "attractive." he never saw it himself, never boasted about it. by the way you always paw at him, initiate foreplay, and the many other titillating things you do, maybe he could finally accept that he was indeed above average.

he was confused when at the four month mark of your relationship, you seemed on edge constantly.

"one more round," you'd whimper in the morning, knowing one would surely turn into two or three.

"show me," you'd say, begging him to try that new method for stronger orgasms he read about in an article. it worked, yes, but his original ways were definitely better.

back aching, jaw clenched, he'd walk into your shared home. his sorcerer days were long over, yet regular life still takes a toll on him. the grasp of bills, responsibility, and annoying coworkers could never be shaken off, always there to make him regret continuing to work.

yet for some reason, you didn't see any of that. you didn't see a man broken by years of labor, dying for an ounce of coffee.

you saw your husband, tie loosened, thin sheen of sweat coating his skin, hair pushed to the side in a way only you'd ever get to see. dirty thoughts were already crawling into your mind, fantasizing about him.

the way his belt shone under the lamplight, all you could think of was him taking it off and-

"what are you staring at?" he's staring back at you, brows furrowed in that cute way that marks confusion.

"just my hot husband," you'd always say. he watched how your thighs clenched a little, how handsy you got that evening.

"i'm starting to feel like a piece of meat," he'd joke, taking off his tie. that same tie ended up around your wrists, used as leverage to pull you back into his mean thrusts. he's your piece of meat.

the older you got, it seemed the hornier you got. he expected the exact opposite; "she'll get sick of me by the time we're 50," he sometimes thought. he couldn't have been more wrong.

nanami is the kind of man that grows finer with age. grey hairs at his temple, slight stubble, a new layer of fat on his stomach, what's not to love?

"stop lying to me, woman."

"i'm not lying!" you'd retort, giggling.

for whatever reason, he can't see that you love him no matter how much he changes with age.

"your gut just means that i feed you well! it's hot!"

he's hiding his head in his hands, ears poking out with a dusty blush across them.

mumbling, he says "my wife is a pervert." (took him long enough to realize.)

no matter how much his back aches, nanami kento will never stop pleasing his wife. in the morning, occasionally at noon, and at night, he'll always make time to fuck you just the way you need it, because he needs it too.

masterlist

a/n: this idea came to me randomly. if i was nanami's wife, trust we'd be going at it everyday!

18+ mdni!

⋆⭒˚.⋆

“b-baby- haah- i— i just- hnngh!” choso whimpered out pathetically. his shaky, sweaty arms barely able to hold himself up as he hovered above you. he’s been like this for five minutes now, simply nudging and gently thrusting his tip against your sopping pussy and clit. “she’s just- ah- taunting me, angel...” his voice cracked in the cutest and most depraved way possible. “choso, baby….we haven’t even put it in yet…” you cooed with a hand stroking his cheek, a bit concerned now, given how flushed his cheeks were. choso leaned into your touch, glossy lips parted just enough for you to feel the humid air breathe against the palm of your hand. “i-i know. y’er- aah f-fuck! your pussy’s just so good to me…..too good, hnngh…” 

luckily enough, you were just as depraved as him. you let him falter for far too long and you’re far too empty to be left like this, right? so, to his utter shock and surprise, you naughtily wrapped your legs around his waist, drawing him closer into you. choso mewled out. mewled. back even arched like a dirty little alley cat. his hands scrambled to grab onto something, anything: your biceps, your breasts, until they rested on your sides. A few seconds passed, choso still frozen above you. “baby…? everything okay….?” you asked, starting to spiral that you had accidentally gone too far. drip…drip…. a few rivulets of water trickled down your chest, cooling in comparison to the warmth of your skin.

your heart dropped, hands shooting up to push back some of his dangling sweat streaked hair. “ch-choso baby…?! what’s……wrong?” oh I see. your eyes were met with the most wretched, pitiful, and glossy doe eyes that were choso’s. thick and heavy tears were welled up along his waterline, eyeliner dripping down his cheeks and looking utterly wrecked by you; his religion. his lower lip quivered, barely able to get a breath in. “it hurts,” he whined. your eyes immediately widened, both hands cupping his cheeks. “it hurts how much I love you, angel- f-fuck!” you’ll never know what else he was going to say, as your legs tightened around him, forcing him to fully bottom out. it was your turn to whimper, having never felt this full and for his tip to fully kiss your cervix. “you’re so dramatic, baby…” you chided with a loving chuckle, hand running through his hair. choso simply dropped his head onto your chest in response, letting out a long drawn out whine.  

it's safe to say, your boyfriend is completely done for. 

⋆⭒˚.⋆

bf!toji buys you a kitty 𑄝੭ | pt 2

“you don’t need it.” 

“but jiii, look at him!” 

“i’m looking.” 

toji didn’t know how his day went from running errands with you after the gym to standing in a pet shelter, crossed-armed, while you squatted in front of the glass, practically pressing yourself against it, cooing at the cats. 

he was far from an animal person; he never wanted one, never planned on getting one. until today, it seems you’ve decided to change that. 

“oh.my.god, he just blinked at me…” 

his eyes nearly rolled into the back of his skull, but he smirked despite himself. 

“it’s a fuckin’ cat, baby, not a stuffed animal. he’s gonna blink.” 

“yeah, but at me,” you emphasized, already having made up your mind. you turned back to him,  grin tugging at your lips. 

“see, he’s already decided he’s coming home with us, ji.” 

“christ…”

toji was reluctantly standing at the register, the next thing he knew. watching your brows furrow seriously as you took in every instruction the employee gave about pet care and other things he’d need. 

“and that’s everything, he’s all yours,” the employee smiled at your enthusiasm, handing over the cat in its crate, “should get his shots soon, but besides that, enjoy him, he’s a good boy.” 

the drive home consisted of your squealing every time the cat so much as breathed. each movement makes your heart turn to mush, purely swoon. 

toji watched through the rearview mirror. it was painfully cute, his girl so obsessed over a damn ball of fur. 

he might’ve even felt a bit jealous—which he’d never tell you. 

it had been a week since you got the cat, named it something ridiculously cute yet fitting. the cat took up most of your attention now, feeding, petting, playing, leaving toji feeling like a third wheel.

to a damn cat. 

whenever you weren't around, he could've sworn he caught the cat hissing or shooting daggers his way.

almost gloating that he got your attention now.

it was a competition, and toji knew he wasn't making it up; the jerk was manipulating you, and only he could see.

he’d had enough by the third week, catching you off guard while you applied a face mask. strong arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest. 

“ji–”

“you forgettin’ about me, woman? bout’ who was your good boy first?”

you nearly snorted, staring at his serious reflection incredously. “are you–”

“answer the question, did you seriously let that cat take my place?” he nipped your neck gently between nuzzles, ignoring the squeak you made. 

“ji, i didn’t forget you.”

“sure seems like it. the little furry bastard gets more attention than me. and i’m the one who has the dick–”

you cut him off with a firm kiss, not even caring that he was messing up your skincare. the rare moments he got all needy and clingy were your favorites. 

“i didn’t forget you, or...your dick, okay? you’re still my good boy…promise,” you murmured seriously, cupping his face and trying not to sound too amused. 

“good.” he grunted, pressing a firm kiss in return, sealing it.

“that little fur ball hasn’t got shit on me anyway.” 

“mhmm…”

“so…you gonna buy me a collar too now?” 

perm tags: @wifichann @sunnyfieldsz @satorusonlygirl @bowiesprettieststar2 @neotoru @b-bitter @tchmiya+ join or in the comments

a/n: i missed writing for my man, plus I love soft toji. and yes, he used his small savings for it. mlist

ace of hearts ❤︎

volleyballer satoru & his crush on volleyballer reader ⊹ fem!shy!reader ⋮ fluff ＼ 1.1k words → set in highschool modern au

✉️ ྀི ៸៸៸ not sure if i shld make another part with their date so lmk down in the comments + don't forget to leave a like & subscribe ♪( ´▽｀)

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀volleyballer satoru is the captain and setter of the jujutsu high's boys' volleyball team, an exemplary, well-rounded player and a formidable opponent that can sniff out a player's weakness in just one set. he hasn't earned his title of 'the strongest' for no good reason — he trains harder than anyone else on the team and never loses sight of what it is he wants to be which is the best player in japan.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀volleyballer satoru is the most popular player amongst the team — known for his charming looks and flirtatious attitude. girls and guys alike are always flocking towards him, fawning over him and cheering him on in every match he plays in. and rest assured, he relishes in all the attention he gets. even gloating to his teammates about how much he gets flirted with on the daily!

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀volleyballer satoru is taken to the girls' volleyball match one day. he hasn't ever been to one till now — not by choice but he'd always just been so busy with training or their matches would clash with the boys'. though this time around, his best friend shoko, had been incredibly insistent on coming here because she wanted to ogle at her newfound crush . . and cause she didn't want to go alone, she had dragged him along with her.

i feel like sukuna sleeps holding you like you’re a hostage that’s going to wake up in the middle of the night and run away.

he’s the big spoon of course and he’s molded around your body like a puzzle piece. chest pressed seamlessly to your backside, one arm hooked around your neck in a loving? soft chokehold, the other curled over your waist, palm splayed over the natural plush of your tummy. your thighs up in fetal position between his, legs intertwined, feet touching, literally the whole nine yards. entirely unaware or uncaring of his size, but definitely aware of yours. hunched over you like a dragon protecting its glimmering mountain of gold and treasure.

and it’s that kind of embrace that seems uncomfortable or suffocating from the outside-looking-in, but it’s actually the best sleep you’ve gotten in years and the only way you can sleep now. it’s the kind that has you snoring when you never snore. the kind that has you waking up looking like a skrunkly cat after a good nap.

his steady heartbeat thrumming against your back and counting sheep for you, your chin tucked in his inner elbow as you drool all over it, head effortlessly perched at just the right angle on his meaty bicep instead of that flat and lifeless pillow that gives you a crick in your neck. your body grounded with the comforting weight of his heavy arm strewn over it, the gentle heat and thumb stroking on your lower abdomen, the pressure in your lower back gone because your legs are elevated due to the beefy mass that’s under them. it’s like he’s your custom made body pillow.

and if you need to pee in the middle the night you’ll have to smack his arm to get him to unfurl his tired limbs with a grunt because he sleeps like he’s dead. he’ll follow you there even when you tell him to stay in bed, heavy feet dragging behind you across the cool vinyl, one sock missing and his loose sleep pants hanging off his hips.

“hurry up, m’cold.” he’ll rub his eyes and grumble groggily as if you forced him to come with you.

he’s just standing in the dark bathroom with his arms crossed, eyes drifting back to a close while he sways like he’s on a ship. then he’s glaring at the doorframe with the most adorable, sleepy scowl on his face after he stumbles into it on accident, like someone put it there just to spite him. that is until he deems it worthy enough to lean on, a loud yawn blooming from the drowsy, messy-haired giant who’s patiently waiting to crawl back into bed with you.

.

.

.

first year high schooler ryomen sukuna was starting to think volleyball had ruined his life. but it was not because he disliked it. if anything, the thought was opposite. quite annoyingly, he liked it far too much. much more than he thought he would possible. and frankly, it wouldn’t have been what he expected more than a year and a half ago for himself.

he liked the impact of a perfect spike against his palm. it just felt too good, feeling that  satisfying burn in his muscles after practice. he enjoyed watching the ball slam into the floor hard enough to make people flinch. 

in some ways, there was something addictive about becoming stronger at something so quickly, about seeing people stare at him with the same mixture of awe and caution they always had. except now it was on a volleyball court instead of outside convenience stores after fights.

volleyball had also introduced him to a very specific problem. that was the unbeatable concept, the most unfathomable concept in the universe. the push and pull of destiny, the endless crash of the waves. the concept of love….the concept of you.

it was something that he would have never thought of years ago, especially a year and a half ago. he wasn’t the type of boy who could have ever been good at being gentle, let alone be willing to let his guard down and be vulnerable for anything, for anyone. 

but somehow, ever since he started dating you, the former red eyed devil of the streets, that young delinquent he was, was no longer there. Instead, all that remained is this young man, this ryomen sukuna who had been acting like a complete idiot. a complete, embarrassing, hopeless idiot, who was head over heels in love with you.

and the worst part was that nobody could even believe it. nobody at school would ever imagine the infamous former delinquent ryomen sukuna, the guy teachers kept an eye on out of habit, the guy with tattoos peeking from beneath his uniform collar, the guy who looked mean even while half-asleep, was internally losing his mind because his girlfriend looked too cute holding a pen.

he  could not believe it at first, but he quickly realized that he was now that sort of boy he used to think were just fools. he was now constantly looking up, waiting for you to be in his bird’s eye view, hoping to catch a glimpse of you and be relieved. 

you sat in the gym almost every afternoon during volleyball practice, student council work spread neatly across your lap while you waited for him to finish. sometimes the manager would offer you a chair closer to the heaters during colder days, but you always stayed near the court because, according to you, “i like watching my boyfriend play” and you repeated that all the time. which was a killer line.

because that sentence alone had nearly gotten him on his knees and made him realize that he couldn’t breathe the first time you said it. then each time you had said it, it had him fighting for his life. he couldn’t believe it. he was a boyfriend, and let alone, your boyfriend. 

he couldn’t go without you now.

he just knows that he can’t do things without you.

how could he, when you are everything good in life?

today, practice had run late.the weather outside had shifted colder with the approaching rain, and even inside the gym, the air carried a chill that lingered against sweat-damp skin. the windows had fogged slightly near the corners, sunset light filtering weakly through the gray clouds overhead.

sukuna was exhausted, beyond comprehension. he could feel the way his head was fuzzy and light-headed. he dropped onto the bench beside you with a low exhale, towel hanging around his neck while he rolled one sore shoulder. his practice shirt clung slightly to his back, still damp from drills.

you looked up immediately from your paperwork. “there you are, i couldn’t see you.” you said softly. “i thought you left. its a good thing i saw your bag in here.”

“had to do the drill outside, for terrain practice.”

“you were doing extra spikes there, huh?”

“tch. coach asked, so i don’t panic when if the volleyball floor isn’t even.”

“you scared two first-years, i heard. you kept asking the senpais for help and you kept glaring at them.” you couldn’t help but say in a light tone. “you could have smiled a little you know.”

“they’ll survive without it.” he says as he takes his water bottle. “‘sides they aren’t you. why should they get my smile?”

“i suppose that’s fair enough.” you tell him. “though, you hit one hard enough that he ducked before the ball even crossed the net. be a bit more mindful next time.”

“he should learn instincts then.”

your lips twitched faintly, the one you had been suppressing for a little bit now. sukuna watched the tiny smile form and immediately felt that stupid feeling in his chest again. god, there it was.

that thing. that unbearable tightness whenever you looked amused by him.

he clicked his tongue and grabbed his water bottle instead, trying to ignore the fact he was staring. you noticed anyway, because you always noticed. you blinked your eyes adorably and you tilted your head slightly. “what?” you asked.

“nothing.”

“you’re staring again.”

“no, i’m not.”

“you absolutely are.”

sukuna glared at you weakly before unscrewing his water bottle. unfortunately, the moment his fingers curled around the cold metal, he remembered something. he looked at your hands for a moment. he starts to think for a moment, about the way you hated the cold. 

it wasn’t dramatic, it wasn’t unreasonable either. and you don’t complain about it often. but he could just feel it, he could just see it. you couldn’t cope. you just got quietly miserable whenever temperatures dropped even slightly.

you tucked your hands into your sleeves. your nose turned pink. you complained under your breath about frozen fingers while trying to maintain your usual composed student-president image.

and sukuna, sukuna thought it was the cutest thing he had ever seen in his entire life. which was a serious problem. because now every time the weather got cold, every time a place felt cold, or when something was too cold to the touch, he couldn’t stop paying attention to you.

a few weeks ago, you’d grabbed his hand while walking home after rain. his muscular fingers had still been freezing from carrying an iced drink, and you’d immediately jerked in surprise before pouting up at him.

“your hands are cold, ‘kuna.” you’d complained quietly. “now mine are cold too.”

you hadn’t even sounded upset. if anything, you’d sounded clingy, almost like you expected him to fix it. sukuna had spent the entire night afterward staring at his ceiling because the memory kept replaying in his head.

now it had permanently altered his behavior, his train of thought, his perspectives. so while you sat beside him in the chilly gym, absentmindedly rubbing your sleeves over your hands for warmth, sukuna’s brain short-circuited instantly.

fuck, there you went again.

you looked too cute.

way too cute for him to handle.

you didn’t even realize you were doing it either, perhaps that was the worst part. your brows furrowed slightly as you tried warming your fingers beneath your sleeves while still reading over council papers, and sukuna physically had to look away for a second because something about it hit him directly in the chest.

how was anyone supposed to survive dating you?

“how are you cold already, babe?” he muttered roughly.

you glanced at him with mild offense. “because it’s freezing.”

“it is not.”

“‘kuna, i can literally see my breath outside.”

“that’s normal.”

“it shouldn’t be.”

you tucked your hands farther into your sleeves stubbornly, shoulders hunching a little against the cold air. and that, that right there nearly killed him. ryomen sukuna stared at you for a long second before dragging a hand down his face.

fuck it all, it was too much.

you were adorable.

actually adorable.

he hated this feeling. hated how soft you made him feel. hated how his chest kept tightening over things as stupid as your cold hands. before you could notice the crisis happening internally, sukuna abruptly started rubbing his palms together.

you blinked. “what are you doing right now?”

“nothing at all.”

“you’re aggressively warming your hands.”

“i said it’s nothing.”

then, dissatisfied, he shoved both hands underneath the collar of his shirt to warm them properly against his skin. your eyes widened slowly as realization hit your face all at once.

and then you smiled. you couldn’t help it, you couldn’t help look at him so fondly.

“oh my god…” you whispered.

“don’t.”

“you’re warming your hands up for me.”

sukuna wanted the floor to open beneath him. “you’re cold, okay?” he muttered defensively, refusing to look directly at you now. “you hate cold stuff.”

your expression softened so visibly it made his stomach flip. “‘kuna…”

“it’s annoying watching you complain.”

“i complained once.”

“you looked miserable.”

“because i was cold.”

“exactly.”

you stared at him for a moment longer, something unbearably affectionate settling in your expression. then you laughed quietly under your breath, so softly, it felt like a feather had landed on his skin, carefully placing its tenderness against him. sukuna felt like his organs were rearranging themselves.

“you’re seriously so sweet, aren’t you, kuna?” you said.

sukuna almost choked. sweet? him? absolutely not. “you’re hallucinating, babe.”

“you’re warming your hands because mine get cold.”

“you act like you’re dying every time the temperature drops below twenty.”

“because cold weather is evil.”

“there’s something wrong with you.”

“you still like me.”

unfortunately, that was true. painfully true. and there was nothing he could do about it. sukuna finally pulled his hands back out from beneath his shirt before awkwardly holding one toward you, still refusing eye contact. “here.”

you looked down at his hand, then back at him. and suddenly your entire expression melted. sukuna immediately knew he was finished. because there it was again. that look. that impossibly soft, affectionate look that made him feel like he’d been punched directly in the chest.

carefully, you slipped your hand into his. the second your fingers touched, your eyes brightened slightly.

“they’re warm.” you said quietly.

the happiness in your voice over something so small genuinely made sukuna’s brain stop functioning. fuck. fuck, you were cute. you held his hand with both of yours now like you were stealing his warmth, shoulders relaxing immediately.

“‘kuna, you’re so good at everything you know?” you murmured, looking absurdly content, “how could you just fix everything so easily? you’re like a healer…..no, no, you’re like my personal heater.”

that did it. that actually did it. sukuna felt his entire face heat instantly as he stared at you in disbelief. you were holding his hand against your cheek now, eyes half-lidded in comfort from the warmth, and sukuna genuinely thought he might die right there in the middle of the gymnasium.

how could someone act like this and not realize what they were doing to him? how could you just cross the boundaries and make the greys turn into a rainbow? his heartbeat was so loud it was annoying. you noticed his silence and blinked up at him innocently. “what?”

sukuna looked away immediately, jaw tense. “…nothing.”

“you’re blushing.”

“no, i’m not.”

“you are.”

“it’s hot in here.”

“you said it was cold.”

“tch.”

you laughed softly again before squeezing his hand tighter, still warming your fingers against his palm. and sukuna, he couldn’t do anything else. sukuna looked at you curled against his warmth like trusting him came naturally, like loving him was easy, and felt something helpless bloom painfully inside his chest.

because nobody had ever needed gentleness from him before. nobody had ever looked this happy just because he remembered something small about them. he stared at your intertwined hands for a moment before muttering under his breath, almost too quietly to hear, he says, “you’re gonna ruin me.”

you blinked. “hm?”

“nothing.”

but you smiled anyway, like maybe you’d heard him after all. and while the gym buzzed faintly around you with distant voices and squeaking shoes, ryomen sukuna sat there completely lovestruck, warming your hands between his own like it was the most important job in the world.

“i really do like you, ‘kuna.” you whispered to him softly, feeling warmth all over your face. “i promise, by next week…i’ll figure out what my nickname is for you….it can’t just be you who has a cute one for me.”

he could feel his blush intensify. he lowers his head. “y–you don’t have to say shit like that—fuck….”

“‘kuna, are you okay?”

“I…i’m fine! just…just keep letting my hands warm you, okay?....i warmed my hands to touch you….just…just let it warm you up.”

"alright, alright....tsundere."

"i am not a tsundere—babe!"

"hm...i believe you."

he blushed even more.

he knew you were right.

he just won't admit it.

".....just keep warm, okay?"

"okay." you smiled.

epilogue 

years later, olympic volleyball legend ryomen sukuna still warmed his hands before touching yours. it had become such an ingrained habit that he no longer consciously thought about it anymore. whenever the weather turned cold, whenever rain tapped against the windows or winter air slipped beneath doorframes, his body simply moved on instinct. rub his palms together. warm them against hot water or the fabric of his sweater. then reach for you.

you noticed every single time. this morning, rain drizzled softly outside the apartment while pale gray light filled the kitchen. the heater hummed near the corner, but apparently not enough for you, because you stood near the counter bundled in one of sukuna’s old hoodies with your hands tucked deep into the sleeves.

your nose was pink from the cold. sukuna thought you looked ridiculous. ridiculously cute for your own good. you frowned down at your coffee mug like it had personally betrayed you. “why is the floor cold?”

“because it’s winter, babe.” sukuna answered from the table without looking up. “bound to be cold iike this.”

“well i don't like it.....winter is evil.” you sniffle.

“you say that every year.”

“because every year it’s true.”

he finally glanced toward you then and immediately felt that familiar ache settle warmly in his chest. years later, and you still looked exactly the same whenever you were cold. the tiny pout. the way your shoulders hunched slightly. the way you curled your fingers into your sleeves like a disgruntled cat.

sukuna had once believed he would eventually grow used to loving you. nstead, it seemed to get worse with time. he still is overwhelmed each and every time by how much he feels for you, by how deep the depths get when it comes to you. yet he wouldn't trade this for the world. not one bit.

you sighed dramatically before shuffling toward him across the kitchen. “my hands are freezing.”

“that sounds like a personal problem.”

“you’re so mean to me.”

“do you want some hot cocoa?”

“.....yes, please. thank you.”

“already have it on the kettle, babe.” he says from his seat, smiling. “give it a few minutes, okay?”

“......okay.”

almost instinctively after that, you still moved directly between his legs where he sat at the table, leaning against him automatically. sukuna’s hands settled on your waist without thought.

then, after a brief pause, he clicked his tongue softly and pulled one hand away. you watched silently as he reached toward the sink, running warm water over his palms for several seconds first.

a smile slowly spread across your face. “still doing that, huh?” you asked quietly.

sukuna dried his hands with a towel before looking back at you. “doing what?”

“warming your hands before touching me.”

“your hands get cold.”

“so?”

“so i don’t like when you complain about it.”

you laughed softly beneath your breath, and sukuna immediately felt his heartbeat stutter in the same humiliating way it always had.

he still remembered being sixteen years old and internally panicking in the school gym because your fingers had gotten cold from his.

now, years later, he was married to you, living with you, waking up beside you every morning and somehow he still reacted exactly the same.

you reached for him the second he held his hands out, slipping your smaller freezing ones into his warm palms with an immediate relieved sigh. “there he is.” you murmured happily. “my human heater.”

sukuna rolled his eyes, but his grip tightened automatically around your fingers. then he noticed the tiny pleased smile spreading across your face while you warmed your hands against his.

fucking hell.

still cute.

still unfairly cute.

he leaned down to kiss your forehead, already feeling that familiar helpless warmth blooming in his chest, when tiny footsteps suddenly pattered through the path of the hallway.

both of you turned. ryomen sukumi stood there sleepily in oversized bear-print pajamas, one tiny fist rubbing against her eye while her stuffed rabbit dragged limply behind her.

sukuna froze immediately. because somehow, every single morning, seeing his daughter still caught him off guard. one-year-old sukumi was so much like you it was honestly ridiculous.

your rounded cheeks. the same whimsy in your eyes. your adorable expressions. your habits. especially your habits. she may be his carbon copy but everything she is, all he can see is you and only you.

right now, she stood in the middle of the hallway with her tiny hands shoved deep into her pajama sleeves exactly the same way you did. same pout too. same betrayed expression toward the cold air.

sukuna physically felt something cave in his chest at the sight. you noticed immediately and bit back a smile. “good morning, kumi, my baby.” you said softly. “you're already up?”

sukumi looked at you with watery sleepy eyes before mumbling miserably, “cold…”

and there it was. that same exact tone you used every winter morning. the kettle was sounding but all he could hear was that sound, like back then. that tenderness of his heartbeat at the sight of this wonder. sukuna stared at his daughter in complete silence while realization slowly settled over him all over again.

she was exactly like you, in everything.

sukumi waddled farther into the kitchen before lifting both tiny arms upward dramatically. “mama…'kumi cold.”

you crouched instantly, brushing her messy hair back. “your hands are cold?”

sukumi nodded sadly. “very cold.”

sukuna watched the entire interaction with narrowing eyes as he turned off the kettle. he could not take his sight of you and sukumi. because she even complained like you. this was unbelievable. and yet all he could think was, how wonderful this was. how the two pieces of you two made someone as lovable and tender and cute as you, his beloved wife.

you glanced over your shoulder at him, visibly trying not to laugh. “my love.”

“don’t.”

“you’re making the face again.”

“what face, pray tell?”

“the one where you realize your daughter inherited all my habits.”

“she’s dramatic.”

“you think i’m dramatic too.”

“because you are.”

before you could argue, sukumi suddenly turned toward him instead, tiny hands still hidden inside her sleeves “dada, dada.” she mumbled.

sukuna’s expression softened immediately despite himself. “what, kumibear? what do you need from dada?”

“warm, kumi...kumi want warm.”

goodness gracious.

he was doomed.

completely doomed.

because now she was looking at him with the exact same expression you used whenever asking him to warm your hands. same hopeful eyes. same tiny pout. same complete trust that he would take care of it. sukuna exhaled slowly through his nose before crouching in front of her.

“c’mere, kumibear.”

sukumi toddled forward instantly. and before even touching her, sukuna rubbed his palms together first. almost as if she just knew fully well that this was the best thing she can do to put herself at ease, almost so instinctive that she curls intp his warmth immediately.

he does same thing he’d been doing for years. he puts his warm touch on hers. you watched quietly from nearby while he carefully took sukumi’s tiny hands between his own warm ones.

the second the warmth reached her fingers, sukumi visibly brightened. her little shoulders relaxed. her eyes widened slightly in relief. then she smiled so big, so comfortably.

and sukuna genuinely thought his heart stopped. because it was your smile. exactly your smile. when gratitude was shared, when good moments were experienced, when love was wholeheartedly given without any boundaries. this was you. all that he had loved of you, in your daughter's smile.

“warm, dada.” sukumi whispered happily before immediately pressing his hands closer against her cheeks. "kumi loves."

you made a tiny strangled sound beside him, clearly trying not to laugh at his expression. sukuna glanced up at you flatly. “don’t start.”

“you look emotional.”

“i’m not emotional.”

“you absolutely are.”

because he was.

he really was.

he couldn't help it.

this was everything.

all he wanted then, as a kid.

he had it now, with you.

sukuna looked back down at sukumi happily holding his hands against her face while leaning trustingly into his warmth, and suddenly he was struck with the overwhelming realization that this was his life now.

you. your daughter. these cold hands every winter morning. the tiny domestic moments that somehow felt bigger than anything else. and worst of all, he loved it to bits. he loved all of it so much it honestly made him feel sick sometimes.

you moved beside him then, resting your chin lightly on his shoulder while sukumi continued clinging to his hands. “look at her, my love.” you whispered fondly. “she does the same face i do.”

“yeah, she does.” sukuna muttered quietly, unable to stop staring at her. “i noticed.”

you smiled knowingly. because you understood exactly what was happening to him. years ago, sixteen-year-old sukuna had nearly combusted over you holding his warmed hands in a cold gym after volleyball practice.

now he sat on the kitchen floor with your daughter clinging to his palms the exact same way while you leaned affectionately against his shoulder, and somehow he was even more hopelessly in love than before.

"does kumibear want hot cocoa too? like mama?"

sukumi nodded against him. "cocoa, papa."

headcanons of baker satoru & his crush on you ⊹ gn!reader ⋮ fluff

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀baker satoru owns the sweetest bakery in the town! he's known for his truly delicious patisseries & delicacies that gets anybody's mouths watering from the mere thought of it. you can smell his shop from miles away, especially with the amount of sugar and vanilla he douses on all of his sugary treats.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀baker satoru loves decorating all his treats — his cupcakes and brownies all have a little frosted drawing of his shades on them, his cakes are always designed with the most fancy, elaborate details（quite frankly, they tend to be exaggerated but that's the charm of his goods）; even the flavours of his delicacies are out of the box ranging from rhubarb & strawberry cookies to chocolate & champagne cheesecakes！

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀baker satoru who wakes up extra early in the morning nowadays just to make a whole batch of your favourite goodies. he does tend to go overboard, fixing you up with at least a dozen of your favourite cookies and cakes, despite your numerous scoldings in the past to stop giving him so much because it will just go to waste, you would say.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀✿ ࿐ but you're always back the next week, cheeks a little fuller each time & he can't stop himself from imagining squishing them together, the adorable thought making his heart swoon！

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀baker satoru who now only uses the flavours that you love. every week when you step foot into his bakery, he has a plethora of flavours for you to try, ones he'd been experimenting on and others that he'd just wanted to improve on. you're always so sweet & kind with your reviews, giving him constructive feedback and always so happy to help him with anything.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀baker satoru who finally decides one day to confess his interest in you — and in a way that he knows best. the day before, he prepares a little red velvet cake with fancy writing on top with your favourite colour. on it, he writes 'date tonight?' simple, to the point, no dilly dallying！（in reality, he just didn't have enough buttercream & food colouring so he had to improvise.）

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀✿ ࿐ you walk in the next day holding a little box and a single rose in your hands. satoru feels himself deflate, wondering if he'd lost his chance and that you'd already been seeing someone else in all this time. of course, he wouldn't be surprised about it — you're the sweetest thing he's ever met. but he can't help his heart from cracking.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀✿ ࿐ you're walking up to him, face down while you're fumbling with your fingers. he's never seen you like this before which makes him wonder if you're alright. before he can even ask you though, you're practically shoving the box and rose to his face as you mutter softly under your breath, "i made this for you."

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀✿ ࿐ satoru blinks. once. then twice. and then he slowly takes it from you, his fingers gently brushing along your dainty fingers which makes his heart flutter uncontrollably. he opens the box and inside . . there's a small cake. with the words 'date tonight?' sprawled messily on the top.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀✿ ࿐ he sets down your gift before quickly sprinting to the back to grab the cake he'd made for you with the exact same words iced on top! he shows it to you with the giddiest smile on his face, his cerulean eyes glimmering so prettily with pure adoration. "and i had made this for you! i think it's meant to be, don't you think?" he muses, handing your cake to you and watching that beautiful smile of yours stretch across your sweet face.

𝓲𝗻 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗵 ♰ when you finally decide to flirt back after years of brushing off sukuna’s teasing, he quickly discovers he can’t handle a taste of his own medicine.

✿ ◞◟) ryomen sukuna 𝓍 gn!reader

𝓬𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 fluff, college!au, established friendship, uno reverse card flirting, sukuna is really pathetic, lovestruck behavior, yearning hidden under friendship (?), sukuna is blushing.

the afternoon light coming through sukuna's apartment windows was that tired golden color, the kind that made everything look a little too soft and a little too warm for a tuesday that felt like a thursday.

you were sprawled on the pink haired boy’s worn-out leather couch with your laptop balanced on your thighs, trying to finish a reading assignment that had no business being this dense, while sukuna sat on the floor across from you with his back against the coffee table, his phone in one hand and a half-empty energy drink in the other.

sukuna's tattoos stretched across his forearms every time he moved to scroll through whatever mindless content he seemed to be invested in, those familiar dark lines shifting over muscle and bone like they'd always been there, like they were just another part of him you'd stopped really noticing years ago. the four-eyes motif on his biceps caught the light when sukuna leaned forward to set his drink down, and you watched him crack his neck in that lazy way he always did when he was bored, the movement causing his jaw to flex once before he settled back against the table leg.

"you're staring," sukuna said without looking up from his phone, and there it was — that particular tilt to his mouth, the one that meant he was about to make things annoying on purpose. "didn't know my forearms were that interesting, sweetheart. could've just asked for a closer look."

you didn't even blink.

"your forearms are fine, kuna. i was actually staring at the window behind you because there's a really weird-looking bird right on the fire escape."

it all started with sukuna fucking up his English exam as always. He could manage every other subject just fine, but he sucked at English. The subject is openly mocking him atp.

That's exactly how you came to picture. When the English teacher of your class drop the bomb of tutoring THE RYOMEN SUKUNA from all the people that were struggling with the language of course your dumb luck end up with him. Ever the teacher's pet— you just couldn't say no to the teacher.

Sukuna kept watching as you practically slammed the book bag of yours that overflowing with notebooks, textbooks and god knows what the actual fuck was actually init.

" take this, here." You sighed while handing over him a that awfully looked like a study plan.

" I'm absolutely not reading all this shit." Practically hissing at your face like a overgrown cat, he passed the book to you rather rudely. Typical orange cat behavior. Maybe a pink cat?!

" sure. Be my guest but if you fail English again then you'll have to drop put of your team." Whatever you spewed up clearly got under his skin. His face had this utterly disgusted look. Didn't he always look like he's about to blow up this damn place.

" Fine then. Show me what you got." Sukuna had a smug look in his face where that had a don't mess with me tag on it. You gulped and nodded at him to hide how nervous you were. You didn't have a death wish of course.

Days continue to pass after your little chit and in the library with high-school badboy Ryomen Sukuna. Things started to change little by little, like he would start to show up your tutor lessons minutes earlier than before — you just were grateful that he didn't skip any of your sessions together. Then he started this habit of invading your personal space. Dragging his chair from the opposite of the table to sit awfully close to you. Breathing down your neck and sometimes sneefing your hair? Like wtf you were creep out and kind of into it. Nvm now.

You thought it can't be get that bad than this but who are you even kidding, it's sukuna who you're talking about. Dude practically a outlaw. He continued to pick up weird habits, tucking your hair behind your ears when you were furiously writing down on your notebook. When you whip out to take a look at his face, he already looking away from you like he didn't just do a very own fantasy of you in real life.

Your teacher didn't just assigned you a student to teach but a overgrown house cat who hiss at whoever get too close to you. It's like Sukuna marking his territory.

" who's that twink that kept talking to you in the library?" the frustration is clearly showing from his voice and the possessiveness that practically taking up the space. You pout after hearing his tone, you became so used to hearing his rather soft voice he only used when he's talking to you. Seeing your pouty face, sukuna sighed and opened his mouth to ask about that vermin of a human that pissed him off.

" You look like he pissed on your coffee." Covering your mouth with a book you're holding, you let out a sweet giggle. Sukuna's glare now had no effect on you because you know there's no bite init.

" it pissed me off. I wanna beat him up." when you heard his mumbling, he had the audacity to look sheepish. " we're not beating anyone, Ryomen." You scolded your gigantic cat rather softly.

" not you. Me. I'm gonna beat the shit out of him if he keeps looking at you like that. Only I get to do that." Sukuna bite his own tongue to stop himself from spewing everything up in front of you.

" You only get to what, Ryomen." Your voice was teasing and had a very happy note into it. " Don't push it, Princess." His hushed tone had you clenching your thighs. You want him. It was getting too much for you to handle. And you had a trick under your sleeve to get him to level up this acts faster.

" so, midterms are coming up. If you get 85% on your English paper, I'm gonna give you something." You wiggled your eyebrows at him with a teasing tone. Sukuna looked like he won a million dollar lottery ticket. Eyes sparkling and shit. You laughed at how adorable he looked.

" what kind of gift?" He just can't wrap his head around seeing your mischievous smile. He's not gonna sleep until the midterms because you refuse to tell him what's the secret present is. Every time he tries to get even a little clue, you just bite your pinkish lips while blushing cutely. It drove him through the walls. He wanted to sink his teeth into your soft pink lips, they looked so fucking tempting. Inviting him to take a bite.

After restless nights and studying his ass off for the midterms, he felt like he was dying. If he didn't get at least 90 on his paper, he's gonna blow this damn place up. Biting his nails and shaking his legs impatiently under his table, he waited for the teacher to hand over his papers. That hag was taking her sweet time. Fuck. Fuck. He's so fucking nervous that he's sweating buckets under his hoodie. The teacher finally made her way into his table. He took a deep breath and prayed.

" Sukuna." He could hear the teacher's voice but all he was doing is looking at the damn paper like he's about to have a stroke. He snatched the paper when it was lowered from her hands and he took a look.

95%

Sukuna leapt from his chair — he did it. HE'S A FUCKING GENIUS. NO NO. HE HAD A GENIUS TUTOR. Without even looking back the teacher who was laughing at him, he took his bag and fled the classroom.

After running like he's escaping a zombie apocalypse, he finally stood up before your door. And wait for you to open the door or else he's breaking down this. He texted again to let you know that he's here to take his reward. The door was slammed open and your hand was gesturing him to come inside. Your body was covered from the door and he was curious about what's going on.

Before even he took a step inside, he was dragged away by you. He let you grab him away. The he chocked on his own spit after taking up your figure, wearing only a soft pink towel. " What—" you shush him before he could run his mouth any further and led him to your room, he assumed. A cute little door that had a deer stickers on it. Your room, he chuckled because it's so you. Cute and sweet.

" come." You were practically luring him in with your honeyed smile. Sukuna would gladly be hypnotized by you and die happily. The door click locked by you. Sukuna held the 95% mark paper into your face with a smug smile and his signature smirk.

" IMPRESSIVE. VERY IMPRESSIVE, MY MOST FAVOURITE STUDENT." You were intimating a proud teacher, and Sukuna couldn't help but feel amused by your antics. " so for your reward. come closer." Your voice dropped down an octave and whispering seductively. Sukuna is visibly shivering, your eyes are watery, a finger gesturing him to come even closer.

Sukuna trapped your body against the wall that adorned with posters of your favourite girl group and movies. " Kuna." whispering his name like a forbidden secret, you released the knot that holding your towel together. You bite your lips while showing him what you were wearing inside without letting go of the towel that still covered your back.

" f-fuck princess. All this for me." He felt light headed after seeing you in a soft pink lingerie with cute red bows on top. His signature colours. The bulge that forming under his pants was borderline painful. " good job, Kuna. I knew you would score it." letting go of the towel you was holding, you stood up in your toes to loop your hands around his shoulders.

" Oh yeah, baby. If I didn't I'm gonna fucking blow up the whole school." His hands began to wander so deliciously on your skin. You sighed blissfully after feeling his feather like touch. " Kuna, please." Your voice breathy with raw need for him. Sukuna kissed your cheeks that burning with a cute blush. His touch careful yet hungry. The pink lingerie you chose just for him clung to your every curve deliciously, the lacey cups did a poor job of hiding your nipples while the matching panties sat low on your hips, driving him mad with wanting to feel soft skin that kept taunting him endlessly. He stepped between your legs, one hand sliding up your thigh while the other cupped your cheek.

"You look so pretty in this," he whispered, voice rough yet so warm against your ear. His fingers traced the edge of the panties before slipping underneath, finding you already leaking slick for him.

" All this for me, Princess? " holding your face with one hand, he squeezed your cheeks together. Kissing the pout your lips made by smashing your cheeks together, he let out a low chuckle seeing your cute face all red.

" Kunaaa, more." you were rubbing your thighs together to satisfy your need, a brush of his fingers made you light headed. He watched you as grinding on his hand to chase your pleasure. " use your big girl words, Princess. hm look at you being so needy, acting like a sweet lil nymph." His taunting voice only made you more wetter and needy. whimpering softly you held on to his hands and tried make tight circles on your little bundle of nerves.

" please please Kuna, gimme I want your fingers." Sukuna could swear he came just from seeing you so desperate for him. His already leaky tip was oozing with pre. He pressed his throbbing bulge to your heat.

Two fingers eased inside slowly, moving in gentle thrusts as his thumb brushed your clit in slow circles. The lace fabric stretched around his wrist while he worked you open with patient strokes. His free hand rested on your waist, holding you steady as he kissed your neck softly, lips lingering on your skin. He curled his fingers just right, earning desperate whining from you, his name continued slip from your lips like a little mantra.

pressing against that sensitive spot inside you while his thumb kept that steady rhythm on your clit. " yeah, you like that baby." clinging on to him and arching your back, the pink lingerie shifted with each movement, the thin straps digging lightly into your shoulders as you whimper softly feeling a delicious pain from it.

"Does this feel good?" he asked quietly, adding a third finger when your walls relaxed around him. His thrusts stayed measured and deep, palm pressing against you with each push. The wet sounds filled the empty room as he watched your face, eyes soft with affection while his fingers stretched and stroked you. Your panties grew damp and transparent from how wet you were getting, clinging to your skin as he continued his gentle but thorough exploration.

" K-kuna, im so close. more more please." Your hand grabbed his hand tightly to sped up this thrusts, he chuckled at how adorable you looked while whither under his touch. Your wetness dripping down to his knuckles had him in a trance. " Let go, Princess. Such a good girl for me." that did it for you, his soft cooing voice undo you and your stomach dipped, you finally let go with his name on your lips. Wetting his digits and pants you ride out your orgasm in a haze. Your dewy eyes looked at him begging him to hold you that he did immediately after your legs gave up.

" You did so good, Princess. perfect for me." you basked in post orgasm glow, while he showered you with praise how good you were for him.

" tastes so fucking good. could eat this for dinner." After hearing lewd sounds of sucking, you lift your head from his neck to look at he's cleaning his fingers throughly while mumblinh how delicious you tasted on his tongue. You couldn't help stare at his slightly red lips and pink tongue sucking your wetness off his fingers.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke, the only sound the soft hum of the air conditioner and the distant murmur of the city outside. Finally, Sukuna lifted his head, his lips curving into a satisfied smile.

" the best fucking gift ever." he said grinning like a feral cat, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

You laughed, wrapping your arms around his neck. " as it's should be."

He kissed you softly, his lips lingering on yours. " don't look so relaxed yet, pretty girl . Because I’m not done with you yet."

You raised an eyebrow, a smile playing on your lips. "Oh yeah? What else do you have in mind?"

Sukuna’s grin was wicked as he rolled off you, pulling you onto your hands and knees. "You’ll see."

And as his hands roamed over your body, his lips trailing kisses along your spine, you realized that this reward game of yours was far better than anything you could have imagined.

age gap ( 40s/20s) 🩰 ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ

it was a normal morning like, every other day in Satoru's life. His little morning routine always end up with grabbing a sweet tea from the cosy cafe downtown. The tea was warming his hands that has aged throughout the years of hardworking he did. He kept humming a tune that was playing on the radio this morning in his apartment.

Satoru just couldn't help but glance at the showcase that was filled with various pastries. It's like they were inviting him to take a bite. His doctor warned him to not to eat too many sweets, but god forbid a man has a sweet tooth. In this case though Satoru might be having the most dramatic sweet tooth ever known to man.

He got up from his usual spot where he nursed his tea like every other morning. And had to choose between having diabetes soon or having a sweet little treat to get through the day. Of course, he paid for the most sugary pastrie of them all. Satoru's grin was absolutely joyous, holding his sweet treat like someone might snatch it away from him.

Grinning like an idiot, he made his way to his table again, sitting down impatiently to take a bite of his strawberry icing filled shortcake. But then Satoru noticed a piece of paper folded and put under his phone. He could swear that was not his. Abounding his task of eating the shit out of the cake, wow progress one might say — one step of beating diabetes, he grab the small paper that was tucked under his phone safely.

it's a drawing, of him but the cartoon version of him? he tried remember. Chibi version of him. Yes that's the word. Satoru chuckled at the cute little drawings of him drinking his tea, looking at the pastries where he had doggie ears and sparkles in his eyes like he's begging to have some treats. He looked around to find the culprit of this doing but no vain. Everyone in the cafe was either busy ordering or rushing out to their jobs.

Satoru kept smiling softly while looking at the drawings. He then safely folded the small paper and put it on his pocket. Looking around the cafe and he tried to make out, who's this mysterious artist. He's having secret admirers now? In his 40s. He sighed dramatically. " I'm still charming as ever then."

Grabbing his sweet tea in the morning was only meant to be a task on his morning routine, he sometimes used to skip that if he overslept or simply feeling bored to get up in the morning but now, he couldn't miss out his morning tea for anything even if the world was ending at 8am — he would still go the café at 7am. Why one might ask, but of course it's because of the fan drawings as he address them, kept appearing on his table out of nowhere. Satoru thought it might be a one time thing by a passing stranger who drew him out of boredom but to his utter delight they kept appearing day after day.

This eventually became Satoru's highlight of the day that his whole mood began to depend on the mysterious drawings that magically appeared on his table. Its always tucked under his car keys or whatever he leaves behind the table to order something. He tried to catch this mysterious artist but every time he was outsmarted by them. Satoru couldn't help but get impressed by their sneaking skills. Today it's a drawing of him eating a shortcake, his eyes were sparkling dramatically and he had a thought bubble on his head written with the cutest handwriting ever,

❜❜ 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒉 𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒈𝒈 ~❜❜

Satoru let out a obnoxiously loud series of giggles like a teenager. He got a few side eyes from the people who remained in the café but he could even care less about them. He pocketed this drawing to his wallet, this one is going on his collection of small stack of papers that sat in a cardholder on his bedside nightstand.

After months of hide and seek game with the secret admirer of his, Satoru was getting awfully desperate to meet them. He couldn't sleep without making their appearance in his head, it's driving him mad. After sulking around his apartment thinking about his new found obsession of finding about the mysterious artist, he finally got dressed up to leave for the café.

Ordering his usual, he made his way to table now officially had his name on it. His eyes bulged out when he saw a piece of paper already there but it was tucked under a plush key chain, it was that one cartoon character that always appeared on the drawings beside his chibi. It had the same signature colours of him too. He found out its name, apparently it's named as " cinamonroll ". Satoru snatched the key chain and the piece of paper in one go and aggressively whipped his head around to make out anyone who looked suspicious enough to be his artist.

His desperation to finds you — of course, it's you, who else would salivate around a 40 year old man, finally reached the breaking point of his patience. Satoru was never a patient man. So, he took desperate measures to get a whiff of your identity. He asked around the café workers, even bribing them hefty. They had no clue of you either, this only made Satoru's unhealthy obsession towards you root even deeper in him.

You were late to grab your morning coffee, you usually step it into the café 6:55 am, right on time but you overslept because it was raining heavily last night. The sleep was so good that you didn't even want to wake up. Here you're at 7:30am, waiting for your coffee while clutching a piece of paper that you drew chibi version of the most attractive man you've ever led your eyes on. Snow white hair with cerulean blue eyes was a cherry on top combination, he looked like an angel.

And his hands. God his hands were doing things to you that not even a church could help you to be holy again. Those delicious veins that covered his arms were driving you through walls. He had such thick fingers that, only two would enough to fill you up throughly. Yup, you've an unhealthy obsession with his hands. You craved his fingers in unholy places that sun don't shine. He's very old compared to you obviously but age is just a number so, it's fine. More than fine if it's him to be honest.

Your heart almost jumped out from the shock after hearing your old man's — not yours but anyways, voice right behind. The heart was thudding so loudly that you were scared , he could hear right through it. You tucked the drawing to your breasts, and took several breaths to calm down. Then, stepping away from the counter to make him pass through you to make his order — you finally took your chance to slip your drawing to the back pocket of his dress pants.

High risk. No reward. One. Two. Three. Here we go. Ack you winced quietly while barely managing to slip the piece of paper to his pocket. You looked around to see if someone caught you through the act but thank god, you were safe. For now. You flinched like a cat that stole something from it's owner who obviously warned not to.

Thankfully, it was the batista calling your name to take out your order. You bite your lips with a mischievous smile while deliberately brushing past his arm that was in your way. It indeed was not in your way, you just did it for the love of the game actually. Then you got a glimpse of the key chain you anonymously gifted him, he used it to carry his car keys. You couldn't help but feel a rush of happiness. Paying for your coffee, you quietly made out of the café.

Meanwhile Satoru is restless, anxious and angry?! it was 8am now. Still no sign of your drawings. He kept going back to order something and still came back to nothing on his table. Did you get into trouble? Were you sick? Is this the end of everything? thousands of possibilities what happened to you and millions of what if questions were blowing up his mind. He hated that he doesn't even know what you look like. He whipped out his hand to take the wallet from his back pocket to leave a tip for the waitress who was serving him from the 7am. Poor soul must be exhausted from the amount of orders he did.

With his wallet, there was your little piece of drawing. Satoru was speechless, he doesn't get speechless every often but you were yet to prove him wrong by how sneaky you can get. You slipped this in to his back pocket and he had no fucking clue. Unbelievable. Is he getting fucking old now. Pushing 40 BTW

Satoru laughed quietly in utter disbelief, he couldn't help but fall even deeper for you. After squeezing the hell out of the cinamonroll plushie you gave him — like he was imaging it was you instead, he finally left the café. The waitress who was cleaning his table almost had a heart attack seeing a 200$ tip. Oh, she gonna serve him good after this.

- 𝒂𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒆𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒔,

You were running as fast as you could to reach the café downtown, praying quietly to the God that your old man would be there. You couldn't go to the café for the last three days — because of the assignment you were working on. " please please be there." you didn't stop praying until the very minute you step into the café. It was 10:30 am — darting your eyes around to find his figure that was usually sat on or the pastrie showcase, that he salivate on. He is not here. No no no please please. Where is he??

After all this time, after all those drawings and little gifts you gifted him, how did he just abounded you like this. Like sure, you couldn't even inform him that you will not be there for 3 days. But still, how could he!!

Your face was the perfect representation of a crestfallen maiden who missed her last chance of meeting with her solider lover. Accepting the utter defeat that he finally had give up on your silly little games — you stepped out of the café like a kicked puppy without even buying anything despite not eating anything from the morning.

Still lingering outside the café, you fought your tears that threatened to fall off — biting your lips rather harshly to contain your tears at bay, you looked around the roads near the café — hopelessly trying to spot his figure.

Wait.

It's him.

Yes, to think that your prayers did work after all. You spotted his retreating figure at a distance. You quickly moved your feet to catch up to him. Why the fuck his legs are so damn long. Your little ballet flats were working overtime to try to catch up to him faster.

Meanwhile, Satoru was devastated — he couldn't even fucking sleep a wink for fucking 3 days. Dark bags sat heavily under his eyes to prove lack of his sleep. Even the waitress who always served his orders was so concerned when she saw him. He looked like he was trying to save the city at night.

He's losing his beauty sleep and appetite because of you. Of course, you. He felt like dying without your cute little drawings and — little charms that you get for him.

For fucking 3 days, where the fuck are you? He felt helpless. Utterly useless of not having any kind of information about you. After waiting on café for 4 hours straight from the 7am, he finally gave up for today as well and dragged his feet to get back to his apartment get some fucking sleep, as if he could do it now — after haunting his apartment in crack of down for last three days.

Then he felt something hold onto his dress shirt. He quickly turned around to look at what that was, and there was you, gripping his shirt with your fingers in a tight fist. You were wheezing to get some air into your lungs. You have never run so much like this, but honestly, it's so worth it.

" Miss, are you okay." Satoru was flabbergasted and kind of worried about the young woman who was flapping like a fish to get air. You were very cute, he noticed. He watched as you suddenly fished into your bedded bag in a hurry and whipped out a piece of paper — and slammed it right into his chest. He absent mindlessly took it.

" Your walking speed is not human at all, I can't fucking breathe. Walk slowly next time, I beg of you." You were blabbering like you didn't just drop a bomb on his head.

Satoru again went utterly fucking speechless by your antics while you were still fishing around your book bag — pulling out a heavy looking book and hold it out to him.

" apology gift, I'm really, really sorry for not showing up on the last three days, I was soooo busy with my assignments. Please don't be mad, okie?? " rambling to him about how sorry you were about the whole thing — throwing around your hands wildly and dramatically to convince him that the absence of you was not intentional. Not even a little.

Utterly bamboozled by this bizarre situation — all Satoru could do was watch you with his mouth hanging open in disbelief. Then he took in the book that you were holding out for him to take with the cutest fucking puppy eyes, he has ever seen.

So, It's you — then, the mysterious artist that kept taunting him endlessly, the reason to his sudden insomnia illness.

The very subject of his unhealthy obsession.

Standing in front of him as if you didn't drive him through absolute hell for months after months of utter torture. Like you didn't play this hide and seek games with him?? He kept looking at your figure — that was still gesturing wildly with animated expressions. It was so fucking cute, you are so cute that he wanted to eat your chubby cheeks — tinged with pink blush because of the slightly chilly weather.

You kept nudging his arm with the book you were holding out to him, your arms were about to fall off because he keeps standing in front of you like a statue that was frozen under the cool weather outside.

Satoru came to the earth, finally — grabbing the book from your hands so carefully. 𝑨𝒍𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒚 𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒚𝒖 embossed in gold letters with a woman in red standing near a grim looking castle. While compared to your little hands that could barely hold the book with one hand — the book felt so small in his giant ass hand. Of course you noticed his hands, you were such a slut for them, well not just his hands but for him, generally.

" I hope you will enjoy it. It's my favourite book ever. Do you know what!! it used to be a fan fiction of my favourite ship — Harry Potter?? You have to know that, okay!! Right, right. There's no absolute way if you haven't watched it yet. I WAS SO FUCKING HAPPY LIKE IT GOT PUBLISHED OFFICIALLY RIGHT THE DAY AFTER MY BIRTHDAY!! CAN YOU BELIEVE IT!!! It was the best surprise ever. I almost cried. Well, I actually did cry a little. Hm, wait, you know what a fan fiction is, right?? "

You were yapping his ear off with the enthusiasm that he had only watched in animation films. Your eyes were sparkling so prettily while you excitedly kept rambling about your favourite book — now sat in his hands. Satoru was smiling ear to ear without him knowing he was doing that. Your absolute enthusiasm about your favourite ship, whatever that was — he took a mental note to search it on the Internet afterwards. The clue to your birthday was too hidden in this book. He was over the moon when he heard that tiny detail about you.

Knowing your birthday was a big step, right??

And, of course, he knows about Harry Potter. He didn't live under a rock for 40 years of his life.

" Hello, hello earth to Mr. Snowy hair." He was again brought back to earth by the little hands that were dangling left and right in front of his eyes. Your puppy dog eyes looked at him in anticipation to hear something from him. You just realised you were the only one who was yapping nonstop. Mentally face palming, you waited for him to say something too.

Satoru lowered himself to your eye level — starling you sightly because of the sudden proximity. You nervously gulped and tried to avoid his eyes, but it was almost impossible. His eyes were too captivating for you to just look away.

" Aren't I too old for you, baby."

YOUR HEART ALMOST ESCAPED FROM YOUR THROAT!!

His hushed tone felt so fucking delicious to your ears. You blinked rapidly to form some kind of answer using your now melting brain. It was useless now. You were gonna melt into a puddle in this very sidewalk. You opened your mouth multiple times and closed it immediately after. Satoru bites back a teasing smile that threatens to escape his lips. He didn't want to scare you away yet.

Not ever.

You were obviously very younger than him. He couldn't help but feel kind of insecure about that fact. But there's no way he could let you go now. You had wormed your way into his heart — very stubbornly, he might add. And he wanted to keep it that away.

He was too probably older than your father — before even he could form any kind of negative thoughts, you decided to open your yapping machine.

" Well, you don't look older than my father, soo~ " you quietly whispered it with a pout that slowly swallowed your cute pink lips. Glancing him under your lashes like a child who caught stealing midnight snacks by their parents.

Satoru barked out a laugh while you softly quivered your own lips like you were top fighting the urge to join his laughter.

He was in for a wild ride. Like in hell, Satoru would ever back down a good challenge.

" Feisty little thing, aren't you? " he teased while your cheeks started to resemble a cherry red tomato. Then, you mumbled your name to him. " I don't even know your name. It's rude to leave someone hanging."

" Hmm, I might have picked it up from someone who left me hanging for almost a year now."

Deliberately avoiding his eyes, you glared at the blocks of the sidewalk. After seeing you sulking around, Satoru flicked your forehead softly while you tried to soothe the nonexistent pain away.

" It's Satoru Gojo. Not beautiful like your name, Princess." You gaped like a fish yet again after hearing his honeyed voice. He almost gave you a heart attack by calling you baby and now Princess???. This man is trying to kill you at this point.

And his name is so beautiful, just like him. It's only fair that he had a perfect name for his flawless beauty. You're so whipped.

" and your age? "

" um 36..."

" how long have you been 36?"

" a while."

You just couldn't hold your laugh at his response. He's so fucking hilarious. Satoru was scratching his neck while trying to avoid your eyes, and the melodious laughed that was soothing his poor soul.

Your laughed like a fucking hyena btw — he's just blind when it's come to you. Maybe even deaf.

✦ 𝒂/𝒏 : 𝑖 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑤𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑎 𝑐𝑢𝑡𝑒 𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑙𝑒 𝑓𝑖𝑐 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 1.5𝑘 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑𝑠, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑖 𝑤𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑜𝑓𝑓 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑘 𝑎𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑤𝑒 𝑎𝑟𝑒. 𝐼'𝑙𝑙 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑏𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑦 𝑤𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 2 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑜𝑙𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑢 𝑜𝑛𝑒𝑠.

@sweethearticism ʜᴇʀᴇ ʀᴇᴀsᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴍʏ ᴏʟᴅᴇʀ ᴛᴏʀᴜ ᴏʙsᴇssɪᴏɴ.

emo/stoner!choso being clingy to his sweet girlfriend ⧽ collage au ! , sfw , Choso being touchy , he’s high , + note at the end ‹𝟹

before you noticed him, you felt a lot of weight pilled on top of you. his face smushed between your boobs, as his body completely collapsed on top of you, legs between yours.

“cho your heavy!!” you grunted looking down as you tossed your phone to the side.

he nuzzled deeper into your chest, as if he was trying to sink into your skin. “your so warm. and comfortable.” his voice muffled into your shirt. it was low and soft, laced with sleepiness.

your hand finds his hair like it’s second nature, slightly scratching while your other hand finds his waist, while your thumb rubs the skin there from his shirt slightly lifting.

he hummed at the feeling, his hands wrapping around you. this was his favorite thing to do. seeing you all comfortable in his bed, in nothing but his tshirt and just a pair of panties. it was all he needed after a long day. to be in your embrace.

you rested your head against his soft hair, as your hands wrapping around him. “your such a big baby.”

he lifted his head, pouting his lips. “your big baby?”

you couldn’t help but giggle, he was probably high since he was being very clingier than usual.

you peaked his lips. “yes my big baby.” he smiled like a fool, returning back to his favorite spot.

“I love you princess.” you could feel his lips slowly kissing your chest. returning the favor you kissed his head, another thing he loved. “I love you more cho.” his hands slid under your shirt, slightly grazing under your boobs. the touch wasn’t sexual, it was a way of grounding him.

a few minutes of the two of you laying there comfortably together, you started to hear soft snoring. looking down Choso was knocked out. his lips slightly parted, a little drool wetting your shirt. your heart squeezes from how cute he looked.

you couldn’t help but watched him for a minute. oh you were definitely gonna tease him about it.

slowly pulling his hair out his pigtails, you pushed his hair back from his face, putting it into one lose pony knowing he would start to get overwhelmed by his hair being up in the morning. carefully pulling the covers over him, you turned off the lamp on the nightstand.

“night my baby.” you kissed his head one more final time, his hand slightly squeezing your waist as if even your touches still affected him in his sleep.

you soon drifted off to sleep with you clingy boyfriend on top of you, with his weight, the warmness from his body, and just his presence himself made you feel safe. it grounded you as well.

truly there was no other place you would rather be.

mini comics about Unkuna AND tojikuna!!! XD

oblivious, lonely reader who’s used to doing things alone x downbad!sukuna. jealous!sukuna. gn!reader. reader wears glasses. sukuna calls reader angel. he’s so down bad bro. ooc sukuna as usual. mentions of nsfw contents.

— ☆ —

1. movie nights.

you had a specific, detailed, high maintenance routine for watching movies. you had slowly perfected the process— a mental to do list popping up every time a new movie dropped that you needed to watch.

first, you needed to be in your designated ‘movie night pajamas’, the most comfortable you owned. your favorite blanket had to be there, along with your favorite pillow for support. you liked watching in your home more than cinemas, because you disliked the idea of not being able to pause the movie for whatever reason. who decided to make bathroom breaks that short, anyways?

for snacks, chips poured into your favorite bowl, your favorite niche flavor. a chocolate bar sat beside it just incase the movie got intense enough for you to crave it. your favorite drink was set beside them in a thermal cup, allowing you to drink it as slow as possible without it melting too quickly.

your phone had to be on dnd, blocking out every notification. the room had to be cold, and you avoided any distractions because pausing the movie on piracy websites meant three minutes of closing ads to turn it back on.

tonight, everything was perfect.

you were perfectly wrapped in your blanket, eyes wide as it watched the screen perfectly, chips tasting perfect, drink perfected, everything absolutely perfect—

bzzz.

you immediately groaned. who could possibly be showing up? you hadn’t ordered food. no one was invited over. it was late. what could possibly be urgent enough to prompt someone to ruin your little routine?

you paused the movie (which took three minutes of pressing ‘x’ on ads urging you to ‘text hot, single ladies in your area’, and ‘ai bots who can make you cum in three minutes!’), pushed the blanket off, and pulled the door open with a soft pout you didn’t even register, just to pause when you saw sukuna standing there, eyebrows furrowed, frowning.

you and sukuna weren’t that close, really. you were in the same friend group, but you always felt nervous around him. he was intimidating, scary, too cool for you. he always stared at you blankly, and you decided he was judging you for… everything. you were awkward, nervous, a little odd.

so, him showing up to your home at midnight was a little… nerve-wracking. his red eyes slowly scanned your comfortable, worn out pajamas, messy hair, tiny pout that faded as your eyes widened, before he blinked blankly. “sorry for showing up unannounced.”

he didn’t sound apologetic. at all. his tone was monotonous, almost unamused.

“can i come in?”

you slowly blinked, before realizing how dumb you must look. you grimaced internally, stepping aside, letting him in. immediately, his eyes landed on your little set up, and he arched an eyebrow. “movie night, huh? watching part two of your little movie series?”

“how did you know?” you mumbled, genuinely confused. much to your surprise, his lips twitched up in something that looked like admiration, amused, and it was the closest you ever got to see him smile.

holy fuck, he was so gorgeous it felt unfair. now that you were actually focusing on the man towering over you, dressed in a black shirt and gray sweatpants, tanned skin peaking from under his clothes, muscles on view—

“it’s your favorite series, and it just dropped. i can recognize the sketchy ass website because you hate netflix. you have your little movie night routine, pajamas, chips, and drink.” he murmured casually, nonchalantly, as if it was normal that the guy you thought disliked you knew this much about you. “i listen, you know.”

your jaw was slack, eyes wide. he only snorted, arching an eyebrow. “don’t tell me fucking gojo was right and you really think i hate you.”

you paused. “well…”

“are you serious?” sukuna scoffed. “you’re my fucking favorite in the group, dumbass.”

“what?” you mumbled back, more confused. “you always glare at me. you never talk to me. i was starting to think you didn’t even know my last name.”

he stared at you, almost as if you were insane, then sighed. “you really are oblivious, huh?”

“hey—“

he shook his head, still looking mildly amused. “here’s the notes suguru said he would drop by to give you and forgot. i know you like studying early.”

“oh. you didn’t have to—“

“i wanted to.” he immediately stated, face serious. “‘ll leave you to it, can’t have someone ruining your perfect night. goodnight.”

with that, he was out, leaving you even more flabbergasted.

what. the. fuck.

2. hangouts.

you were still getting used to the idea that sukuna told you that not only did he not hate you, but that you were his favorite in the group. to you, the idea was unbelievable. flabbergasting. maybe even a little more scarier than being hated by him for some reason, but you managed pretty well.

at least you were more comfortable hanging out with your group now.

however, you had a tiny little habit. you hated the coffee at the place your friends loved, so often, you just walked away to the place next to it to buy your own coffee. it provided you a break, making the little pit of your stomach that grows when having to be around people, even your best friends, for too long reset, and you just get a chance to catch your breath.

today wasn’t different. in the middle of the hangout, you grabbed your wallet and slipped out, enjoying the tiny walk in fresh air before you stepped into your favorite cafe.

the familiar barista immediately lit up at the sight of you, boredom fading from his face. he was your age, friendly with a cute grin that grew whenever you two chatted— something that made you feel at ease when ordering.

“my favorite customer,” he immediately greeted, grinning. the bell at the door chimed, and you both didn’t pay any mind to it. “i wonder what you will order this time.”

you snorted. you both knew you ordered the exact same thing every single time. “yeah, i wonder too.”

he chuckled, eyes flickering to the screen. you could feel a figure stopping behind you. “well, you know your total.”

you hummed, about to pay, when the familiar scent of sukuna’s signature perfume finally registered in your mind as he moved to step beside you, eyes narrowed, jaw slowly twitching. “make it two.”

you slowly glanced up. the barista looked up in surprise, before he nodded calmly. “of course.”

before you could register it, sukuna’s card was pressing against the machine, paying for you both. your jaw went slack for the second time this week, flabbergasted once more, but sukuna was already pulling you out of line so that the people behind you could pay.

and, more unfazed that he should be by his own actions, he casually held out the receipt. “here. you take the code and collect points on their app, right?”

“…how the fuck do you even know that?” you mumbled, utterly confused. “why are you here? how did you find me— did you even know what you ordered—“

“easy there, angel.” he murmured, calm. “you always carry the receipt and i see you type something from it on your phone often. ‘m here because the coffee in the other shop is ass. you always come here, so i figured i would try my coffee with you. i know what i ordered because i know your order.”

you openly gaped at him. he only reached over, grabbing both drinks, arching an eyebrow. “are you gonna gape at me forever or drink this sweet shit?”

“…did you just call me angel?”

his amusement immediately faded, ears turning red as he shoved your drink your way, looking away. “absolutely not. hallucinations. let’s go.”

that was what he chooses to deny? not that he knew your movie night in details? that he knew your exact drink? that he knew you secretly collected points from your favorite coffee shop?

you let out a tiny chuckle, amused, following behind him. that somehow managed to make his ears even more red, a scowl pulling on his pretty lips.

fuck. he was gorgeous, and adorable.

how horrible for you.

3. aquarium.

you laid face-down on shoko’s bed, face showed between the pillows, eyes shut in pure horror. “‘m so screwed.”

she sighed for the nth time from where she sat on the ground, studying. “you quite literally could not be more not screwed.”

“i have a crush on him, shoko. i never have crushes. and now i have one, on fucking sukuna. the guy once punched a guy for breathing ‘his’ air. he fucking hates people. i am so utterly fucked. he will kill me.”

she glanced up, as if she knew something you didn’t. “he won’t kill you. kiss you? maybe.”

“stop being delusional.” you mumbled, voice muffled as you buried your face into the sand further. “‘m so fucked.”

she sighed. “you’re delusional too if you don’t realize what’s happening. anyways, isn’t it the twenty seventh? your monthly aquarium night?”

you jumped up, gasping. “it is! fuck!” you quickly grabbed your phone to check the time, before opening the aquarium’s instagram page just in case there were any updates.

and, unfortunately, right there on their instagram story, posted twelve hours ago, was a simple statement.

‘couples only day!’

“oh, fuck my fucking life.” you mumbled, eyes on the story, shoulders drooping. “shoko, be my aquarium date.”

“couples only, huh? if only these weren’t the conditions,” she mused, almost flirty, before tilting her head.

“yes.”

“ask sukuna to go with you.”

you blinked once, twice, before pulling up your phone, nodding, serious. “good idea. ‘m asking gojo or geto.”

“that is quite literally not what i said.”

“you’re a genius.”

you sent off a quick text to geto and gojo, jumping off her bed to head to your own apartment to get ready. after dressing up all cute for the sake of your loved marine animals, you glanced down at your phone, where a vague text from gojo said he couldn’t, followed by maybe three million crying emojis (which was maybe because he had begged before to accompany you said no. aquariums were a single, you-only trip), and geto sent back a simple ‘he’s almost there’, and a thumbs up.

what kind of reply was that? you frowned, sending five questions marks, about to ask who the fuck ‘he’ was, when your doorbell rings.

you pulled the door open, and freeze when your eyes landed on the one and only sukuna. he glanced at you, eyes blank, and nodded once. “let’s go.”

“…where?”

he raised an eyebrow. “the aquarium. date night. let’s go.”

“…are you sure?” you immediately mumbled, voice uncharacteristically low. “‘m, uh, kind of enthusiastic about this. nerdy. geeky. um, annoying.”

his lips twitched up into an endeared smile that he immediately pushed back. “i know what ‘m getting into. let’s go.”

you grabbed your jacket, eyebrows furrowing. “suguru could have just said he couldn’t come. i’m sorry he sent you instead.”

“oh, he could come.” sukuna stated blankly, stepping into the elevator behind you. you glanced up at him, confused, and he stared back blankly, as if waiting for you to collect dots you didn’t even see. he only sighed after a few minutes, shaking his head. “this is both cute and infuriating. so, which stupid creature is your favorite?”

you expected a night with sukuna to be awkward. tense. uncomfortable. a night where you had to hold back so you don’t become labeled as talkative, or annoying, or too much.

you didn’t expect for him to be a good listener. nodding at whatever you said, asking questions at first to keep you talking until you were comfortable rambling. you didn’t expect him to hold your things so you could comfortably get closer to the glass, or stay longer at your favorite animals, or ask you about ones that seemed interesting, his eyes soft and lips twitching upwards just the slightest. you didn’t expect him to disappear at one point and come back with a few limited-edition items from the small gift shop either, dumping them in your arms wordlessly as you two were walking out.

“thank you for being my fake date for the night, kuna.” you mumbled as he was dropping you off, sleepy, eyes soft and voice slurred. he paused at your words, lips twitching into a frown before he eyed how sleepy you were and only sighed.

“of course, angel.” he muttered, reaching over and nonchalantly pressing a kiss to your forehead before he turned around, walking away. “…sleep well, goodnight.”

gaping at him seeming like a new routine, except this time, your sleepy eyes were set on his back as he left, almost getting distracted by his muscles showing through the fabric. oh, you were so, utterly fucked.

4. the beach.

you sat quietly on the sand, wrapped tightly in a towel, eyes ahead as you watched gojo, geto and shoko shoving each other in the water. choso was on a towel beside you, deeply asleep and snoring. toji was playing around with megumi and nobara and yuji, who was yapping about how his uncle dropped him off and disappeared. everyone was enjoying themselves.

you were freezing.

you had gotten there earlier, having known they would all show up too late. you liked swimming alone with no eyes on you, so with too much sunscreen, you stayed in the water under the sun in what you knew was the perfect time for you. by the time everyone else arrived, you were already drying in the shade.

oh, how you wished you had a dry towel—

a dry towel dropped into your lap before the thought even finished. you froze, glancing up at the sky, before immediately closing your eyes again and wishing for a million dollars just in case.

“don’t stare at the fucking sun.”

ah. your genie.

you peaked through your lashes at sukuna, who glared at you, a hand going to shade your eyes from the sun. he was dry, holding a small bag which you assumed was for his wallet and phone and car keys and towel, the sun kissing every spot on his perfect body, as if purposely teasing you.

fuck. how could someone be so pretty?

he sighed, pulling a cap out of the bag. he pushed it on top of your damp hair, shading your face, and slumped beside you. “switch towels. mine is dry.”

“hi.” you mumbled dumbly, blinking a few times to snap yourself from the daze seeing his beautiful red eyes in the sun put you through. his lips twitched, face softening, and he only pulled the cap down further. you finally remembered how to think. “don’t you need your towel dry?”

“‘m not going into the water this late.” he stated. his eyes flickered to choso asleep, and he rolled his eyes, standing back up. you watched shamelessly as he effortlessly pulled the heavy umbrella so it was covering the sun kissed stoner, sighing, voice lower. “that dumbass.”

“i spray him with sunscreen every two hours. flipped him once.” you mused, taking the chance of sukuna being distracted to switch towels, sighing in relief once the warm, dry, soft towel wrapped around you. “thank you, kuna.”

“don’t mention it.” he grunted, then frowned once he registered your words, “you rub sunscreen on him?”

“oh, no, it’s a spray.” you hummed, pulling it out. “isn’t it cool?”

he glanced at the spray bottle, shoulders slowly relaxing. “mhm. it is. can you spray me?”

you nodded, moving to stand up, immediately stumbling in the towel. firm fingers immediately steadied you, and you deeply hoped he couldn’t feel the warmth radiating off you from being flustered as he slowly let go.

you slowly sprayed him, the sunscreen leaving a shiny coat that made him look even more beautiful. after making sure every part of him was covered, you slowly sat back down. “try to rub it to make sure it’s even.”

he hummed, eyes shut, slowly spreading it out, spreading it out on his tan skin.

what a fucking sight, really. he was so, unbelievably gorgeous. you were so fucked.

“…you went early, huh?”

“…yeah.” you mumbled, eyes still on him, hoping he keeps his eyes closed.

“tell me next time. ‘ll go with you.” he sighed. “these idiots always come when it’s already too cold.”

you nodded slowly as he finally finished, slumping next to you on the little beach mat gojo had gotten, so close that his thigh was pretty to your covered figure. he frowned. “your lips are pale. still cold?”

you grimaced. “‘ll be okay. thank you for the towel—“

he sighed, an arm wrapping around your shoulder before he was pulling you towards him. you missed the way his body relaxed, lips twitching into a repressed grin, the face of a man finally achieving one of his long lost goals.

holy fuck. you were pressed to his side, his body oozing warmth. he smelled great, and you could feel his muscles every time he shifted. as you stared ahead, trying to pretend like you weren’t malfunctioning, your eyes landed on shoko, gojo and geto staring back at you guys from the water, jaws slack.

well. at least it wasn’t you this time.

5. studying.

as much as it seemed otherwise, studying with gojo actually helped you. you both kept each other in check— you stopped him whenever he started yapping, and he distracted you whenever you were spiraling. you both were a team when studying— having been one since the first semester, when you both met.

during breaks, however, was when you really liked studying with gojo. you both sat with thirteen expensive pastries in front of you, gojo’s treat, and he grinned excitedly. “oh, this will be so good. you go first.”

“you don’t have to tell me twice.” you mumbled, picking one up. you immediately moaned in delight, holding the rest to gojo, who reached over and took the rest from between your fingers. “fuck. this is so good.”

gojo let out an even louder moan. you both ignored the disgusted glares from the people around you, happily chewing. “oh, these are fucking godsent. thank you for being my taste buddy.”

“thank you,” you mumbled, grabbing another one. “you’re the one spoiling me with these. you’re, like, my dream man right now.”

gojo let out a loud laugh, before pausing, shivering in horror at whatever he imagined. “do not let sukuna hear you saying that. he’ll have my head.”

“why would he have your head for that?” you mumbled, mouthful, and distracted by the heavenly taste of these. you weren’t even a fan of pasteries, but these were on another level. you tried another, and immediately groaned. “fuck. try this one.”

you immediately extended your hand out to gojo. he, as usual, ate half of it off your fingers instead, and dramatically melted in his seat. “ten out of ten. perfect. stunning. i will marry whoever made these.” he swallowed, and quickly ate the rest off your fingers to. “and he will because he’s, like, in love with you.”

“you flipping liar.” you mumbled, unamused with the obvious fake news. “he doesn’t. he’s just a good friend.”

“he’s not a good friend,” gojo snorted. “he almost shoved my head into the toilet bowl yesterday because he was bored. he likes you.”

you did not believe him the slightest. “uh-huh. wanna try the red one?”

“yes, please.”

later that night, you were curled up in bed— going over everything you had studied earlier to lock the information into your mind. the groupchat was blowing up after choso was caught kissing someone (you already knew the news. choso blurted about his ‘secret’ crush to you before when he was high, and forgot.) and you just shot back a sticker laughing, said you were studying and you needed more caffeine to deal with this, and shut your phone off completely.

you really needed caffeine.

everytime you shut your eyes, all you can see is a cold, cup of your favorite coffee from your favorite shop. the condensation running down, the inviting taste, everything—

fuck. you needed one so bad. you frowned, turning your phone on to glance at the time, and paused when a notification stood out from between the ones on the groupchat.

sukuna: pick u up for coffee in five?

you stared at the message, then slowly glanced down at the sweatpants and oversized hoodie you were in, your hair messy, broken glasses on because you were too lazy to get these specific ones fixed and you lost the other, before sighing. you needed caffeine too bad to worry about how you looked in front of him right now.

you: please :c

a car honked downstairs a few minutes. you quickly grabbed your wallet and your half-dead phone, rushing downstairs, grabbing an oversized jacket on the way so you could tug it on top of your thick hoodie, grimacing at how much of a mess you looked. you slid into the passenger seat, and sukuna only stared at you, eyes slowly taking in your appearance, lips softly pulling up.

“don’t say anything.” you immediately mumbled. his smirk widened, but he didn’t speak, immediately resuming to drive, eyes ahead. “‘m so sleepy.”

“uh-huh. let’s get some caffeine in you.” he murmured, turning more serious. “don’t overwork yourself tonight. did you have dinner?”

you nodded, ignoring how your heart felt like it was twirling in your chest. “i did. ate and drank and slept well.”

he hummed. “good.”

in the coffee shop, he got the same as you, paying despite your complaints. once the drinks were out, he grabbed both, wrapping yours in tissues to keep your fingers from being cold before handing it over, humming.

you were looking over notes in your phone, too tired to register his actions. you only quietly took the cup, immediately sipping, shoulders slowly rolling down, tense muscles relaxing. “thank you, kuna.”

he clicked his tongue. “don’t mention it.”

in the car, you focused on sipping the coffee, and he cleared his throat. “gojo said you two were on a study date this morning. pastries and shit. said you called him your dream man.”

you snorted. sukuna glanced over, utterly unamused, almost pouting. “i love gojo.”

his lips immediately formed a scowl. “you love him?”

“not like that,” you snorted. “he’s just… he was the first person who was nice to me in university, you know. the first person who made sure i never felt like a burden. he means a lot to me, platonically.”

he was silent for a while, then nodded, pulling up in front of your building. “good. you deserve to never feel like a burden. you… mean a lot to me.”

was he trying to kill you? you immediately shuffled out, heart beating like it was trying to escape your chest, cheeks burning. “you mean a lot to me too, kuna. um, goodnight. thank you for picking me up.”

“don’t mention it, angel.”

+1.

against your will, you were dragged to a party.

you would have been enthusiastic, really, if finals hadn’t just ended— leaving you too sleep deprived that you couldn’t even walk straight. gojo had came over to force you out and picked your outfit out for you, keeping in mind your pleads for it to be something warm, and you ended up in the passenger seat of his car, asleep soundly, vaguely aware of his whining about you needing to be awake as he drove you there.

you could only remember little snippets between your tiny naps, really.

gojo having his arm around you as he dragged you in.

you slumping down beside choso, immediately falling asleep on his shoulder.

sukuna crouching down in front of you, concerned, eyes worried.

sukuna covering you with a blanket.

sukuna sitting beside you, pulling your head into his shoulder instead.

geto replacing choso. you shifting, head falling into his shoulder because he was warmer.

sukuna immediately pulling you back towards him, an arm falling around your waist to keep you close, bickering with geto.

after that, you drifted into deep sleep— the kind that only came after a week straight of pulling all nighters. and, when you woke up again, you were wrapped in a blanket, on the roof, on a tiny couch with your head on sukuna’s lap and a cigarette between his lips.

the second he registered you awake, he pushed the cigarette into the ashtray, eyes soft, fingers on your shoulders to help you sit up. “you okay, angel?”

“mhm. sleepy.” you mumbled, blinking slowly, still half asleep. you yawned, rubbing your eyes. “thank you for watching over me, kuna. you’re, like, my angel.”

“…don’t mention it.” he whispered— although, it sounded more like a pained whimper. “i… yeah. don’t mention it.”

it was silent for a few minutes. you both stared up at the sky, lost in thought, before sukuna cleared his throat.

“…the stars are pretty.”

“mhm.”

he paused, before speaking again. his voice was low, soft, but it was laced with quiet frustration that you could tell wasn’t pointed at you. “we’re, uh, done with the semester.”

“…mhm.”

he clicked his tongue, and sat up, like he’s restarting. “…we’re good friends.”

“we are.” you mumbled, still dazed from your delicious, needed nap. he let out a small groan, face buried into his palm.

“fuck.”

“…kuna?” you murmured, voice soft, sleepy. his eyes finally flickered up, frustrated and almost disappointed in himself, and you only gave him a small, sleepy smile. “i like you too.”

and finally, it was his turn for his jaw to go slack, eyes widening, before he turned to you quickly. “you’re not fucking with me, right? you like me?”

you nodded, sleepy, but focused. “i like you.”

he didn’t hesitate before dropping to his knees in front of you, eyes soft and almost pathetic. “say that again. please.”

“i like you, kuna.” you repeated, quieter, softer, more serious.

he let his head drop, face pressed against the blanket covering your thighs briefly, voice muffled when he spoke. “…you have no idea how many years i have been dying to hear this, angel. fuck.” when he lifted his head back up, his red eyes were almost glossy. “‘m marrying the fuck out of you one day.”

that managed a sleepy laugh out of you. “take me on a date first, at least. we haven’t even kissed yet.”

his eyes lit up at the mere thought— before you watched him visibly holding himself back, trying to appear more relaxed, probably to not scare you off, despite his reddening ears at the idea. “right. dates. i will date you so fucking good, i promise, you will never think of anyone but me again. not even that stupid barista who clearly wants you so bad. only me.” he nodded, serious, scowling, before his eyes softened again. “best dates of your life. where do you want to go? dinner? coffee? aquarium? your little movie night routine at my place? do you want me to make it a surprise? i will be the best boyfriend— wait, fuck, not that yet—“

you reached over, softly pressing your lips to his,

he froze, eyes probably wide, then immediately melted the second your fingers gently cupped his face to pull him closer, letting out a soft, little sound into the kiss that had his face flushing further.

once you pulled away, your eyes met his dazed ones, and he slowly sucked in a deep breath. “….fuck.”

“dinner sounds good.” you whispered back, thumb brushing over his bottom lip, and he shut his eyes, as if it took visible effort not to groan. “next week?”

“you think ‘ll make it to next week?” he let out a sharp laugh. “you have me fucking kneeling for you, angel. tomorrow. 8. please.”

“okay.” you murmured, voice soft. “now, come back up, i will want to continue napping on you.”

warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut with no plot (kinda brief), fem!reader, exhibitionism, oral (m!receiving), fingering, fourth year setting (all characters are aged up to +18), pet names, slight crack, fluff fluff fluff!

wc: 3.1k

a/n: here's the last part!! thank you so much for reading my fic and for 500! i love love love all of you <333

art by @/3-aem

satoru's pov! (1#) & suguru's pov! (2#)

Shit, you thought to yourself.

You were fucking Satoru for a month now… and you still have no fucking idea whether he liked you back.

Between mind boggling orgasms, gentle aftercare, and countless times that your heart fluttered both in and outside of the bedroom, it was easy for you to completely forget about Suguru and move onto Satoru who smiled at you like you were the north star.

The only problem though?

You repeat: You still have no fucking idea whether he liked you back.

Surely, after a month, you would know whether he had feelings for you as well, considering that the two of you undoubtedly spent the most time together out of the four of you in your year. Yet, admittedly, you couldn’t really tell how he felt towards you from how much of a clown the bastard was.

But that was honestly not much of a big deal, because you had more pressing questions like—

“I think Satoru has an exhibitionism kink.”