24 | she/they | requests open | just a silly little guy | I've been wanting to make a blog forever, I guess this is my start | trying my best | I'm simply just trying to have fun | im dry, deal with it
hi! rosie is actually my middle name, but i prefer it. lowercase is intentional. im a 24 yo loser, who is in love with fictional characters.
i love lots of fandoms, like; one piece, jjk, dr stone, and let's face it, leon kennedy. i have other intrests too, like; recently gachiakuta, obey me, lads, spn, haikyuu, sdv, wha, ya know? nerd shit. I will write for any of that stuff if anyone is interested.
i would recommend keeping notifs off for me, unless you wanna read whatever fanfic i am reading at whatever times im on tumblr (which is too often). i just kinda post random shit, so if that bothers you then idk what to tell ya.
I believe my masterlist is up to date with all my works, so enjoy what i've got for you, and feel free to request! <3
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Imagine: You noticed it by accident. Not because you were spying. Not because you had gone looking for something strange in Gris Rubion, even though, if you were honest, your own insecurity had always tried to find a flaw in him. You thought he was perfect, and perfection was a difficult thing to believe in.
But this was different.
Mornings at the Cleanersâ headquarters always began in the same noisy, restless way. Somewhere in the gym, people were arguing over a missing piece of equipment. Someone was finishing breakfast on the move. Someone else was checking their weapon while sitting on the edge of a table, despite having been chased off it at least ten times before. The corridors smelled of iron, dust, old cloth, hot tea, and something faintly burnt.
Apparently, someoneâs latest attempt at cooking had failed again. You were carrying a stack of clean bandages toward the medical room when you heard a familiar voice.
Gris stood in the locker room, a little apart from the chaos, beside the window where the pale morning light fell across his shoulders. He was already prepared for departure: jacket fastened, gloves on, gear checked. He looked exactly the way you were used to seeing him before a mission: broad, steady, so solid that even the walls seemed fragile beside him.
But he wasnât smiling. He wasnât joking with the others, either. He stood there quietly, holding a small amulet between his fingers.
You stopped before you could remind yourself that staring was rude.
Gris bowed his head and murmured something under his breath. The words were almost impossible to make out through the noise of headquarters, but the weight in them was unmistakable. They were too serious to be a habit. Too gentle to be nothing.
It sounded like a prayer. A quiet, stubborn, deeply sincere plea to the world: Please, bring them all back.
You stood in the doorway with the bandages pressed to your chest, and for the first time, it occurred to you that Gris Rubion was afraid.
Not the way people trembled before danger. Not the way some froze because their minds had already imagined every terrible ending.
Gris was afraid in a different way. The way a person was afraid and still walked at the front, because someone had to be there first. The way a person was afraid and still stayed at the rear, because someone had to make sure no one was left behind. The way someone counted survivors after every mission not with their eyes, but with their heart.
The way someone smiled, because if he didnât, the others might notice how exhausted he was by the thought that one day, someone might not come home.
You meant to leave before he noticed you. Instead, the floorboard beneath your foot gave a soft, traitorous creak.
Gris lifted his head. Your eyes met.
For several seconds, neither of you said anything. You stood there, feeling as if you had been caught doing something shameful, even though, if anything, he was the one whose privacy had been stolen. He was the one holding his amulet. He was the one whose quiet prayer had not been meant for anyone else.
âIâm sorry,â you said first. âI didnât mean to interrupt.â
Gris looked down at the amulet, then back at you. There was no irritation in his expression. Only a faint trace of surprise, and then that gentle smile of his, the one that always made something traitorously warm bloom inside your chest.
âYou didnât interrupt.â
âI was watching.â
âOnly a little.â
âGris.â
âBarely at all,â he corrected, the corner of his mouth twitching.
You sighed, but you couldnât quite smile back. Gris noticed immediately.
âWhat is it?â
Your gaze dropped to the amulet in his hand.
âDo you do that every time?â
He was silent for a moment. The noise in the hallway seemed to fade. Somewhere behind you, a door slammed. Someone called out another personâs name. But it all became distant, blurred, as if, for a few breaths, the two of you had been sealed away from the rest of the world behind a thin sheet of glass.
âBefore every mission,â Gris said at last.
âFor yourself?â
He gave a quiet laugh. Not mocking. Just soft, as though the question had been too simple and the answer too obvious.
âFor everyone.â
Somehow, you had known he would say that. It still hurt. You took a step closer.
âAnd does anyone pray for you?â
Gris blinked slowly, as though the question had struck him harder than any blow could have.
âWellâŚâ he began.
Then he stopped. A bitter little smile touched your lips.
âI see.â
âThatâs not what I meant.â
âThen what did you mean?â
He ran his thumb along the worn edge of the amulet. His gaze shifted, becoming quieter, more serious. It was the kind of expression he rarely allowed himself to wear in front of others.
âIâm used to being all right.â
âThatâs not true. You get hurt too.â
âI can take pain better than most.â
âDonât say stupid things.â
Gris looked at you carefully. You realized, too late, that the words had come out too sharply. Too angrily. But you didnât want to take them back.
Because he was standing right there in front of you: alive, warm, real. With that old scar by his eye, with his light hair never quite lying the way it should, with those large, powerful hands that somehow knew how to be both strong and unbelievably gentle.
And he was talking about himself as though his own safety was not a necessity, but a pleasant addition to a successful mission. It made you furious enough to shake.
âYou canât just say youâll be fine,â you said, quieter now. âThe world doesnât become safe just because youâre strong.â
Gris watched you for a long moment. Then, all at once, he smiled.
âYouâre angry because of me again.â
âNot again. Still. And donât smile like you think itâs cute.â
âBut isnât it?â
âNo.â
âNot even a little?â
âGris.â
He raised his free hand in surrender.
âAll right. Whatever you say. Itâs not cute.â
The smile, unfortunately, remained. You were about to protest when he suddenly held the amulet out to you. You froze.
âWhat are you doing?â
âGive me your hand.â
âWhy?â
âPlease.â
And somehow, that one word was stronger than every sensible objection you had. You set the bandages down on the nearest crate and slowly held out your hand. Gris took it carefully. So carefully, as if he were afraid of holding too tightly, even though you knew exactly how steady his hands could be.
He placed the amulet in your palm. It was small and warm from his touch. Old, worn smooth in places, marked by thin traces of time.
âI usually ask for everyone to come back,â Gris said. âFor no one to get lost. For us to make it in time. For everyone to have enough strength. For me to notice danger before it reaches someone else.â
You listened almost without breathing.
âAnd today,â he said, softer, âcould you ask for me?â
Your heart struck hard against your ribs. You lifted your eyes to him. Gris looked at you without his usual humor, without that easy softness he used to keep everything from becoming too heavy. For the first time since you had known him, he didnât look simply reliable. He looked like someone who wanted to be waited for. You closed your fingers tightly around the amulet.
âI can.â
He nodded, but he did not let go of your hand right away.
âJust donât say it so seriously,â he muttered. âYouâll make me feel awkward.â
âThatâs fine. Youâll survive.â
âNo mercy from you today?â
âGet used to it.â
He laughed quietly. This time, the sound came easier. You looked at his face, at the faint shadow of exhaustion beneath his eyes, at the old scar, at the calm line of his mouth. Then, almost without thinking, you stepped closer and lifted your hand to his chest. Gris did not move. You pressed the amulet against him, right over the place where, beneath the thick fabric of his clothes, his heart was beating.
âPlease come back,â you whispered.
Only three words. But they carried everything you were too afraid to say aloud. Come back alive. Come back whole. Come back unharmed. Come back not only for the team.
Come back to me.
Gris slowly covered your hand with his. His fingers were warm and large, roughened slightly by work and battle and all the things he carried without complaint.
âI will,â he said.
You frowned.
âThat canât just be something pretty you say.â
âI understand.â
âGris.â
âI really do.â
He leaned a little closer, and the space between you became dangerously small. The corridor was still noisy. Someone could pass by at any moment and see you standing far too close to him, your hand pressed to his chest with his amulet trapped beneath your palm.
But you didnât step away. Neither did he.
âNow I have someone to come back to,â he said quietly.
Your fingers tightened around the amulet.
âYou always did.â
âYes,â Gris said. âBut now I know it.â
You didnât know what hurt more, the words themselves, or the way he said them. As if they mattered. As if your voice had reached some place inside him that he had never let anyone touch before.
You opened your mouth to answer. Then, from the corridor, someone shouted:
âGris! Weâre moving out!â
He closed his eyes for one brief second and sighed, as though the world had, as usual, chosen the worst possible moment.
You couldnât help the small smile that slipped onto your face.
âGo.â
âYou get angry when I leave with untreated scratches.â
âYou donât have any scratches right now.â
âNot yet.â
âAre you kidding me?â
âAll right, sorry. I understand. Iâm quiet.â
He gently took the amulet back from your hand. But before he tucked it away, he lifted your fingers to his lips and brushed a short, impossibly tender kiss over your knuckles.
âThank you,â he said.
âFor what?â
âFor asking me to come back.â
You swallowed.
âIâll ask every time.â
Gris smiled. This time, he didnât hide behind a joke.
âThen Iâll have to come back every time.â
âExactly.â
He stepped toward the door, then looked back once. There was so much left unsaid in that brief glance that, for a moment, you felt almost frightened by your own tenderness.
Then he was gone.
The noise of the hallway rushed back around you. Headquarters became ordinary again: loud, restless, alive.
But you remained by the window for a long time, holding the hand his lips had touched close to your chest. And for the first time, you understood that waiting did not have to be only fear. Sometimes, waiting became a promise. Small and warm. Like an amulet in someone elseâs palm. Like a quiet prayer before departure.
Like a man who had always prayed for everyone else, and had finally allowed someone to pray for him.
going into a relationship with toji wasnât easy. he often disappeared without a word leaving you worried about him. he also liked to quickly spend his money which led him to be financially depended on you.
back then you wouldâve never imagined toji as a father. if somebody asked you âwould you want him to be the father to your kids?â you would probably just shrug it off because as lovely as he is those nasty habits really got in the way of him being a good parent.
until one late spring evening, you took a test. mostly to ease your anxiety, since morning nausea hit you so hard for the past few days. so when he was fixing some cabinet in your shared kitchen, a loud gasp came from the bathroom.
toji dropped everything and quickly ran to you, instantly worried what couldâve happened. he opened the door without hesitation and saw you standing there frozen, the test in your hand.
he knew that look, that hand on your mouth, the test. he took a step forward and took the test in his hands. he moved his fingers through the positive as if checking that it was real.
he looked down at you and kissed your forehead before dropping to his knees. ây/n, you made me the happiest man on earth. i know i am an idiot. a reckless one. but iâll change for you and the baby. iâll do anything just to keep my little family safe.â
and just like that, after almost 7 years toji was putting a jacket on (not so) little megumi that was on his way to the first day of school.
he was holding his school bag in hand, waving a small âgoodbyeâ before running to the car that was parked in front of your house.
toji looked at him before grabbing his keys and turning towards the door. you spoke up âso, heâs really not our little boy huh?â toji then stopped and sighed.
he didnât regret once when he worked his ass off just to see you and little megumi smile. but knowing that megumi wonât climb onto him anymore, he wonât need his father to scare bugs out of his room, he wonât need him anymore.
it felt like losing him. like megumi was a really important peace of his heart that was taken away. he smiled and hugged you âyeah, heâs a strong boy now, huh?â he kissed the top of your head but you could feel the tension in him.
suddenly you felt some wet drops on the back of your neck. âtoji, are you crying? megumi isnât leaving forever. he just opened a new chapter you should be happy.â
he let out that low chuckle âyeah, no, im not crying woman, youâre imagining things. i know heâs an independent man now. but still he needs me to get him to school.â he pressed a quick kiss before quickly turning away to hide the tears on his face and running to the car because megumi was yelling at him, worried he will be late for his first day.
an: smth quick idk the heatwave melt my brain off and idk what to do
A/N: still recovering from chapter 169 sooo this was born (Enjin get up youâre fine <3333)
You walk into the break room and see Enjin passed out on the sofa. Umbreaker is leaning against the side right by his hand as if he would be called into a job he can quickly grab his vital instrument and go.
Youâre happy heâs finally getting some sleep. Recently heâs been doing paperwork that Semiu is asking for help with, heâs been training the kids, and heâs been going on back to back missions. He clings onto the hour or two of sleep he has been getting. Itâs made you a bit lonely at night but at least heâs resting, thatâs all you want.
Walking over to him you kneel by his side, gently brushing the hair that covers his eyes behind his ear. He must have been sleeping for a while if his hair is down and this messy. Smiling gently to yourself you press a quick kiss to his lips before standing back up to head out so he can rest.
You donât get far because a warm hand on the back of your head pulls you back and connects your lips in a deeper kiss. Itâs slow, warm and a bit uncoordinated just because he is barely awake.
You try and push against his chest. âEn, go back to sleep,â whispering against his lips.
He grabs your waist and pulls you onto him. He adjusts his position so youâre on his right side making you closer to the back of the couch so you wouldnât fall off during what is now becoming your shared nap.
Enjin kisses your head before murmuring, âThis is better, knew this nap was missing somethinâ.â
You snuggle into his chest being lured in by his warmth and soft beating of his heart.
It may not be the most comfortable place to take a long nap that you two are about to share but that doesnât matter. All that matters is that youâre in the arms of your loving boyfriend.
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drabble hc idk wtf to call it but giving enjin sloppy head while he recovers in the hospital and he canât get even look down at you bc of the neck brace
imagine being so fucking mad at enjin for almost dying. like you genuinely get it why he did it and stillâ
âhave you even thought about me?â you snap at him while he lays there.Â
neck brace, eyes heavily lidded and some rest smoke curling from his lips. âbabeââ
âno. donât babe me. iâm so mad.â
then because it absolutely makes sense you push the blanket down. enjinâs dick twitches already, because his dick knows you better than enjin actually does đââď¸Â
you sneer before spitting right onto his cock. a fat glob of spit running down his length and that man is whimpering. he actually tries to escape you, like he has any chance against your greedy mouth.Â
you swallow him, gag, drool and suck him with the precision of an assassin. manâs done. whimpering. drooling too. eyes rolled back. eyes at the ceiling, because he canât look down. he canât see your beautiful face being stuffed, because of that dumb neck brace.
kills him on the inside. is also the hottest thing ever. but then he hears your little sob, because you had been so terrified of losing him and he reaches down blindly. his big hand engulfs your face, caressing your cheek as you still bob up and down on his shaft.Â
enjin cums so pathetically fast and when you pull back heâs greeted with the sight of your red cried eyes and some cum that splattered against your lips.Â
fuck fuck fuck. he needs to kiss you and promise sweet nothings and just hold you. but then you just disappear, leaving him with the blanket pushed back and his spit covered dick hanging out.Â
The room was dark except for the faint glow of the nightlight plugged into the wall. The blanket was tangled around everyone's legs. As usual.
Toji was taking up about seventy percent of the bed despite claiming every single night that he was "barely moving."
You were squished against the edge, one wrong breath away from falling onto the floor. And little Megumi was trapped in the middle. Your husband was fast asleep. Completely unconscious. Dead to the world. The man could probably sleep through a natural disaster.
Unfortunately for everyone else, Toji's sleeping habits were questionable at first. Unbearable as time passed.
He was sleep taking and moving a lot but the worst thing? His snoring.
A deep inhale echoed through the room.
Then-
"AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH..."
The walls practically vibrated. You didn't even open your eyes. Years of experience. You simply adjusted your pillow. Another loud snore followed. Then another.
Then-
"Mmph..."
Your eyes opened.
Slowly.
You turned your head. Megumi was awake.
Again.
The poor little boy sat there with messy black hair sticking in every direction. His blanket was twisted around his tiny legs. His eyes were half closed with exhaustion. But they were also fixed directly on his father.
Watching and judging. The look on his tiny face was honestly hilarious. Like he was trying to understand what kind of creature was making those noises.
"It's okay, baby."
You brushed some hair from his forehead.
"Daddy's just sleeping loud."
Megumi blinked.
The next snore rattled through the room. His tiny eyebrows lowered. Clearly unconvinced. You gently guided his head back onto the pillow.
"Go back to sleep."
He sighed dramatically for a two year old. Then closed his eyes. Peace.
For exactly three seconds.
Then
PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFT.
A long.
Loud.
Absolutely shameless fart escaped from your sleeping husband.
You didn't even move to used to your husband.
Silence followed.
You slowly opened your eyes. Megumi's eyes opened at the exact same moment.
The toddler stared.
Toji continued sleeping peacefully.
As if he hadn't just committed a crime against humanity and definitely against his son.
Megumi looked at you.
Then back at Toji.
Then back at you.
You could practically see his little brain processing events. And thenâ
Pfff.
Another one.
Not as loud.
But somehow more offensive.
Megumi sat up. You immediately knew that look.
Oh no.
The tiny hand lifted.
Slowly.
Purposefully.
Like a warrior preparing for battle.
"Megumi NO-"
SMACK.
His little palm hit Toji directly on the side of the head.
Not hard. But definitely enough. Toji shot upright.
"THE HELL WAS THAT?!"
You nearly choked trying not to laugh. Toji grabbed his face dramatically.
"What hit me?!"
His eyes landed on Megumi.Megumi was staring back. Expressionless. Not a shred of regret. Toji pointed.
"The brat hit me!"
You covered your mouth.
"No he didn't."
"He DID!"
"He barely touched you."
"He assaulted me in my sleep!"
Megumi blinked. Toji looked offended.
Actually offended.
Like he'd just been betrayed.
"You snored loud again."
You rubbed your eyes.
Toji scoffed.
"It's because I'm tired."
"You slept twelve hours yesterday."
"I WORK."
He pointed dramatically at himself.
"I work all day."
Another point.
"To feed you."
Another point.
"And that brat who just punched me."
Megumi frowned.
Toji narrowed his eyes.
The toddler narrowed his eyes right back. You immediately buried your face in your pillow because you were about to lose it. The two of them looked exactly alike. It was ridiculous.
"okay ho back to sleep." You sighed.
"You too, Megumi."
Toji flopped dramatically onto the mattress.
"That's what I get."
Silence.
"For taking care of that brat."
More silence.
"I raise him."
Pause.
"He attacks me."
Pause.
"No respect."
You laughed.
"Go to sleep."
"How am I supposed to sleep now?"
"Close your eyes."
Toji grumbled something unintelligible.
Then rolled over.
Three seconds later-
He was asleep again. Like somebody had unplugged him. You stared.
Unbelievable.
Absolutely unbelievable.
You carefully lifted Megumi from the middle and tucked him against your chest instead. Maybe being farther away from Toji would help.
Your son immediately curled into your side.
Tiny hands grabbing your shirt. Warm little cheeks pressing against you. Your heart melted.
"There we go."
You kissed his forehead.
"Sleep with mommy."
Megumi nodded sleepily.
His eyes began to droop. His breathing slowed.
Success.
Thenâ
RRRRRRRRRRRRRRHHHHHHHHHHHHH.
The snoring returned.
Louder somehow. You didn't even react. Years of training. But Megumi did.
His little head slowly lifted from your chest.
Like a meerkat. His eyes narrowed.
The tiny hand lifted again.
Aiming directly at Toji.
You immediately grabbed his wrist.
"No."
Megumi looked at you.
"No hitting daddy."
The tiny finger pointed toward Toji. Another snore exploded through the room. Megumi looked scandalized. Like he was saying then make him stop. You bit your lip.
"He's sleeping."
Megumi pointed again.
The snore continued.
Point
Snore.
Point
Snore.
The argument continued entirely without words. Finally Megumi huffed.
Actually huffed.
Then dramatically buried his face into your chest. You nearly laughed.
"There you go."
You rubbed his back.
"Good boy."
A tiny grumble escaped him. Clearly unhappy with the outcome. But he stayed put. Minutes passed. His breathing grew slower. Softer. Eventually he fell asleep.
At last.
You smiled.
Your sweet little boy looked adorable sleeping against you.
the biggest giant ⥠Ýâ fluff & sukuna x reader
sukuna was tall. you often got neck cramps because he always wanted you looking in his eyes as he talked, but you happened to break your neck every time.
it wasn't just that either. every hug you gave him had your head pressed right up to his chest. you couldn't even reach his shoulder. he would pick you up just so you could rest your head on his shoulder.
sukuna had complaints too. he would quite literally break his back every time he kissed you. he swore he was starting to look like a shrimp as time went on. you were just too tiny.
even though he broke his back at every kiss, he loved how short you were. he loved picking you up and setting you on the counter. he still had to lean down to kiss you but it wasn't as much.
he loved how easy it was to grab and pick you up. if he wanted you on his lap, all he had to do was pull you by your waist. if you were in his way, he would just pick you up and set you aside.
you hated when he did that, but he found it hilarious.
the height difference never bothered sukuna, it was just an added bonus to loving you.
he would never ever wish you grew taller. you were perfect just the way you were.
well that, and he also loved seeing the top of your head.
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summary: Sukuna has always witnessed his relationships decline, and although you two have been going strong for the past couple of months, he has to accept that it will eventually happen to this relationship too. And what better way to prevent his sweet girl from going through the same fate than breaking up with her before anything could happen?
a/n: crossposted to ao3!! hope you guys enjoy and also this is the most i've ever written and i hope it's good and not yap :,] thank you @yversz for proofreading ily mootie :]
perm tags: @ex1acy @sal1mav @mushyfrogcakes @yversz
â§Toji x Sukuna x Reader - The Nerd, The Athlete & The Musician â§
Fluff | Flirting | College AU | Nerd!Toji | VolleyballPlayer!Sukuna | Sometimes the most unexpected trio creates a harmony so perfect it never needed tuning.
Three people with complete different energies, somehow pulled toward the same gravity center.
The relationship didn't develop overnight. Years of trust, of mutual understanding and silent dedication eventually blossomed into something deeper during college.
Toji sits beside you on the bleachers like he owns the space without even trying. There's no tension in him, worn out hoodie, his glasses slipping just enough that he pushes them back absentmindedly.
He looks like the nonchalant type that can't find nothing worth his interest in the gymnasium. But his arm is laying firm around your shoulders.
Like a quiet possessiveness, there's no misunderstanding possible.
"...you're freezing doll," he mutters, pulling you closer without waiting for you to make the first move.
"I'm fine."
"You're not," His thumb starts tracing slow patterns on your arm anyway.
Like your comfort is something he manages without your permission.
But both of your gazes are fixed on a certain tall pink-hair, cocky player.
On the court, Sukuna is a different kind of dangerous. Sharp, powerful and definitely showing off.
Every movement is deliberate, jumping higher than the opposing team thought possible.
The crowd cheers when he slams the ball, his team hypes him up. Probably because half of the team is terrified of him.
But Sukuna doesn't play for his team, that barely has importance to him.
Sukuna's finds the two of you within seconds, as usual.
Like a predator locking onto a familiar scent.
You wink back at him without a second thought.
A small subtle mark of affection.
It's not the first time you do something like that. He should start to expect it at this point.
But it landsâ warmer than he'll ever admit.
Sukuna's smirk appears like it's been unlocked.
Sharp. Cocky. Alive.
The next serve?
He absolutely destroys it.
The gym erupts.
Toji huffs beside you. "...show off."
"You love him."
"I tolerate him."
"Liar."
His grip tightens slightly around you. "...love you, doll," he corrects, mumbling those precious little words in your ear.
Because no matter how long you've known him, that honest softness sneaks up on you every time.
Down on the courtâ
Time-out gets called. Sukuna walks toward the sideline, grabbing a bottle, not even pretending to listen to his coach.
His eyes flick up again. Finding you.
"...you see that?" you tease under your breath.
Toji hums. "...yeah. You made him worse."
"Blood boiling."
"More insufferable."
"Same thing." You say, a smirk growing softly on the side of your lips.
Toji glances at you, sharing the same smirk.
"...you're proud."
"...a little."
"...a lot."
You elbow him lightly. Toji retaliates by pressing a quick kiss to your temple.
"Can't blame you," he murmurs like a secret. "he's stupidly good."
The whistle blows. The game resumes.
There's nothing holding Sukuna back now.
Every time he makes a point. He checks for you.
Not obvious, that would be asking too much for his pride.
But you're here, again and again. Watching him.
His "baby" in the stands.
Toji's "doll" at his side.
And when the game ends, Sukuna's team wins easily.
He barely celebrates.
Grabs his towel and walks straight in your direction.
Toji not moving an inch, his arm resting heavily on your shoulders.
He watches. Calm. Confident.
Because the relationship isn't about competing to be the one. But functioning as a unit. As one.
Sukuna stops in front of you, still catching his breath.
Sweat on his body, still running high on the adrenaline.
"You saw that, baby?" he murmurs.
"I did."
"That was for you."
"So romantic, Ryo."
Toji scoffs lightly. "You're dramatic."
Sukuna glances at him, a sharp smirk on his lips. "And you're still here."
"Don't flatter yourself," Toji replies instantly, the tip of his ears turning slightly pink.
Sukuna's hand comes up, brushing your jaw like he's handling glass.
Gentler than anyone would expect from him.
"...good," he murmurs. "stay here."
"Where else would I go?" You say softly, eyes deeply mesmerized by his touch.
The truthâtruth is, why would you need to choose when everything forms like an orchestra playing a melody to perfection?
Toji presses another kiss to your hair.
Sukuna leans in just enough to steal one from your lips.
Public. Unapologetic. Bold.
"mmh... missed that," Sukuna mutters.
"It's been two hours."
"Too long."
Toji chuckles low, "...greedy."
"Yeah," Sukuna shrugs. "you're one to talk."
And somehow, between the quiet nerd and the loud athlete. It works in a messy, unshakable loyalty.
⥠ď¸âĄ ď¸âĄ ď¸
Once in your dorm room, the place feels like you poured your heart out with an interior design degree.
Soft lights. Lava lamps bubbling like a slow heartbeat. Vinyl spinning something warm and a little nostalgic.
Music sheets scattered like a mad scientist.
Instruments lying against the wall like they're resting.
And right in the middle of your bed, Toji's lying flat on his back.
One arm behind his head.
Glasses low on his nose.
A damn science book open like the safety of the world depends on it.
And you. Stretched across his lap, on your stomach.
Feet kicking lazily in the air.
Sukuna takes in the scene as he gets out of the shower. Victory still clinging to him like the steam coming out of the tiny bathroom.
He realizes you're wearing one of his shirtsâ No.
That shirt that you love sleeping in.
Swallowing you whole.
Not leaving much to the imagination.
Simple but definitely deadly in the best way possible.
You're scrolling on your phone like you're not draped over a whole man.
Like this is normal.
Like this is home.
Sukuna's brain blue screens for a moment beforeâ
"You've gotta be kidding me."
You don't even raise your head.
You already know the tone, the voice.
His wet hair still dripping onto his bare shoulders and chest.
Staring at the scene like he walked into the wrong movie set.
"...what?" you hum, still scrolling.
He points. Actually points. "Him!"
Toji doesn't look up. "...what about me?"
Sukuna lets out a sharp laugh. "You're laying there like a corpse."
"I'm reading."
"You have your girlfriend on top of you!" Sukuna's brows are raised in disbelief. Probably expressing more emotions than his team saw him all season long.
"I noticed."
You snort softly.
Sukuna looks at you, then back at Toji.
Then back to you again.
Processing the unthinkable.
"...and you're justâ what? Ignoring that?"
Toji finally turns a page, before placing his hand back on your hip. "Multitasking."
That's it.
Sukuna drops the towel, walks over, slowly, dangerously toward your feet.
"...nah," he mutters, voice dropping. "I don't like that."
You feel him before you see him. The mattress dips around your bottom half. His large hand lands on your thigh.
Warm. Firm.
"...what don't you like?" you murmur, closing your phone.
"That he's not touching you."
Toji exhales through his nose. "...I am."
"That doesn't count," Sukuna shoots back. "your hand's been in the same spot for ten minutes."
You grin into your hand. "...he's got a point."
Toji finally looks up at you first, then at Sukuna. "You're both annoying."
Sukuna leans closer, hovering above you.
"...and you're wasting a perfect view."
Thatâ
That gets a reaction from the clueless nerd.
Toji's hand shifts. Slowly sliding from your hip to your lower back.
Down. Gripping the fat of your ass.
Your breath hitches slightly.
"...better?" Toji murmurs, eyes still on his book.
"...much," Sukuna replies, satisfied.
But he's not even close to being done.
His large hand drags along your thigh again. A slow deliberate torture.
"...wearing my shirt," he mutters.
"It's comfy."
"You look better in it."
Toji hums. "She looks good in anything."
"She looks best like this," Sukuna counters instantly.
You finally turn your head. "Like what?"
His hungry gaze lingers over you. No shame. All his and he knows it.
Toji's hand tightens slightly on your bare skin again.
"...careful," he mumbles. "you're getting sentimental."
"Shut up."
But he's smirking, always that goddamn smirk.
You stretch, ever so small, against Toji, arching your back just enough to press back into his hand.
"You two done arguing?"
"...never," they both answer at the same time.
You laugh. "Good. Then celebrate."
A pause in the cozy room.
Sukuna tilts his head. "Oh, we will."
Toji finally closes his book with one hand. Places it aside like it just lost priority rank.
Now you're in trouble.
Because having both of them focused on a single goal is guaranteed victory.
Sukuna leans in first, hand sliding to your waist, pulling you toward him. He kisses you, precise and eager just like the game he played an hour ago.
Toji watches for half a second before his hand moves again, actively participating instead of staying on the sideline. Pulling you closer to rest your back to his chest.
"Don't hog," he mutters.
Sukuna pulls back from your lips, enough to scoff.
"...then participate."
"I am."
"Barely."
You giggle between the two of them. "You two are something..."
"...Something you can't get enough of," Sukuna murmurs, ghosting above your lips.
"Obviously," Toji adds.
Because here, in the quiet cocoon that you built for the three of you. There's no doubt, no hesitation.
Only warmth, laughter and trust.
And two men whoâ
Despite everything opposite about them, they agree on one thing completely.
A proper celebration always includes you.
⥠as much as adulting sucks, I'd give anything to have this kind of college experience âĄ
Enjin swore he wasnât the relationship type. Every single time the topic came up, he said the same thing. âGirlfriend? Boyfriend? Sounds like a cage.â
âThereâs a whole world out there,â he continued one evening while sitting upside down on your couch. âPeople get weird when they start putting labels on stuff. Suddenly somebodyâs asking where you are, who youâre with, what youâre doing.â
âYou literally ask me where Iâm every day.â
âThatâs different.â
âIt absolutely isnât.â
âItâs because Iâm curious.â
You stared at him. He stared back.
The argument ended there because Enjin had the attention span of a goldfish. Also the problem was that despite all his speeches about freedom and not wanting to tie either of you down, he behaved exactly like somebodyâs boyfriend.
His coat was hanging beside your door. One of his shirts was mixed into your laundry. His toothbrush sat next to yours in the bathroom. Half the tools in your room somehow belonged to him. You found a wrench under your bed once. You still had no idea how it got there.
Meanwhile your own belongings had slowly invaded his rooms. Whenever you noticed something and tried to take it home he always stopped you.
âLeave it.â
âWhat?â
âLeave it there.â
âBut itâs mine.â
âYeah, and?â
You blinked. âWhat if I need it?â
âYou can come get it.â
The answer came so naturally that it made your chest tighten every time. âyou can come get it.â as if the idea of you showing up at his place was the most obvious thing in the world.
One rainy afternoon you finally reached your limit. You had been cleaning your room when you found yet another one of Enjinâs possessions. This time it was the umbrella chilling in the corner of your room. His umbreaker, did you hear that?
You marched across the headquarters and like he had a feeling he opened the door.
âWhat?â
âExplain.â
He looked down. âItâs my umbrella?â
âAt the fact that heâs in my room.â
âOh.â he shrugged. âI forgot him.â
âEnjin, thatâs your jinki.â
âYup.â
âEnjin.â
âWhat?â
âYou practically live at my place.â
âNo, I donât.â
âYou have more things there than I do.â
âThat seems unlikely.â
âYou left your umbreaker.â
âI found him now, didnât I?â
You stared at him in disbelief until the realization hit you hard. âYou donât actually want your stuff back.â
âWhat?â
âYou keep leaving things because it gives you an excuse.â
His expression froze for a second, but you saw the realization hit him before he could hide it.
âEvery time I find something Iâve to see you again,â no answer⌠âYou leave your stuff at my place,â you continued softly. âYou tell me to leave my things at yours. You ask where Iâm every day. You show up unannounced. You steal my food. You fall asleep on my couch.â
âThat couch is comfortable.â
âEnjin.â
His shoulders dropped as the fight drained out of him all at once. âYâknow it sounded easier in my head.â
âWhat did?â
âNot wanting labels.â his laugh came out weakly. âBecause then I wouldnât have to admit I like having somewhere to come back to. But I still think all that boyfriend stuff sounds stupid.â
âOf course you do,â you smiled.
âButâŚâ he glanced down at the umbrella still in his hands, then back at you. âBut if you keep finding my junk in your room for the next fifty years I guess that wouldnât be the worst thing.â
It was the closest thing to a confession you were ever going to get. Also made it perfect somehow.
To prove that itâs enough you shrug off your jacket and toss it on his bed which made him smile all big. Yeah, you might never call him your boyfriend officially, but heâs yours.
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