Star

A loud knock interrupted sleep, well your attempt at falling asleep. You turn over, eyes peeking at the clock on your side table, 2:12AM.

A knock rings through your room once more, slower this time, heavier, as if whoever was standing on the other side of the door was putting their weight into it.

You groaned, running your red-rimmed eyes and dragging yourself out of bed and towards the door. Who was up at this time? There's no way your neighbours were out this late and locked themselves out — especially not on a weeknight.

You straightened your night shirt and shorts, the shirt wasn't even yours, it still smelt of him yet you couldn't bear the shame of returning it.

“Satoru?”

Gojo swayed in the doorway, tall frame hunched beneath the dim hallway light. His white hair was a mess, cheeks pink from alcohol and the cold night air. His designer jacket smelt of cheap alcohol and expensive cologne.

And his usually bright, blue eyes looked… wrecked as if he hadn't slept a wink in days.

The moment his eyes met yours something in him cracked.

Before you could even question him on why he was at your dorm at this hour he slumped into your arms, his large frame nearly knocking you over. “Missed you… S’much,” he slurred into your hair, nuzzling his face closer and inhaling your shampoo.

Something in your stomach twisted. You shouldn't be bitter about it, not really, it's not like you two were official or anything. But it still hurt.

It hurt because he was the first guy to really see you, not just as the ‘quiet kid’ or the ‘nerd,’ Satoru saw you for you, despite being a frat brother, all those late night drives, those cafe study dates, even the lingering kisses.

Then one day he stopped answering your texts, started avoiding you in the library, and eventually told you he had lost feelings on some random Tuesday.

You cried for an entire week, beating yourself up for believing he would want to be with you.

“Satoru,” your voice came out shakier than intended, “are you drunk?”

“Only jus’ a little.” he slurred out, drool starting to pool at the corner of his mouth. “Why are you drinking, I thought you didn't like it?” He giggled at your words, “You always know me too well, pretty girl.”

He stayed clinging to you, backing you up until he was fully inside your dorm and the door clicked shut behind him. It was silent for a moment — except for Gojo’s breath in your ear, then something wet dripped onto your neck.

“Ew are you drooling —” you pulled him off you, finally meeting his gaze again, a soft gasp escaped you, “— why are you crying?” His eyes were redder now, soft tears spilling onto his pale cheeks.

He hiccuped, pulling you closer once more. “I lied… I messed up s’bad, I didn't get bored, fuck I could never get bored of you. You're so funny, and pretty, and you smell really good. Like a cupcake.” His rambling continued as fresh tears welled in his eyes.

In which sukuna gets shy and forgets how to speak when you fix his chain in front of his frat brothers

A reference to this series

It’s a friday night.

You had come over to the frat house after class, by now it was normal for you to randomly show up. It was the end of the week, with your body and mind both sore and tired from all the work you’ve done all week , eyes heavy, you went straight to sukuna’s room, plopped on his bed, and drifted to sleep.

How many hours had passed since you fell asleep , Three? Four? You don’t even know , you sit up , rubbing the sleep out of your eyes , with no signs of sukuna around, your throat is so dry it feels like thorns are pricking at it.

Now you were downstairs looking for water.

Unbeknownst to you, everyone’s already there ,

The second you stepped into the kitchen, Shoko noticed you first.

Then Sukuna.

And just like always, something in him changed immediately.

He’d been leaning against the counter beside Toji and Geto, lazily picking apart some story Gojo was telling while half the room listened in amusement. Tattoos stretched beneath the sleeves of his black shirt, rings catching against the fluorescent kitchen light every time he gestured.

He looked Confident and Sharp-edged. Like he always did.

Then his eyes landed on you and as soon as they did,His posture straightened subtly.

The tension in his jaw eased.

Like his entire nervous system recalibrated.

You walked over quietly, still sleepy enough that you barely noticed everyone watching. Sukuna’s gaze followed you the entire way until you stopped in front of him.

“You okay?” he asked immediately.

“Mhm.” Your voice came out soft from exhaustion. Then your eyes caught on the silver chain hanging crooked beneath the collar of his shirt. “Your chain’s twisted.”

“Huh?”

Without thinking much of it, you stepped closer.

Conversation around the kitchen slowly faded.

Your fingers brushed lightly against the cool metal resting against his throat as you fixed the clasp, carefully straightening where it had turned sideways against his skin.

And Sukuna went completely still and no,

Not in a dramatic way.

But the kind where someone forgets how to function entirely.

His hand tightened slightly around the cup he was holding while he stared down at you, breathing quieter ,shoulders stiff beneath your touch.

Gojo blinked. Then blinked again.

“No fucking way.”

You didn’t even notice.

You were too focused on fixing the chain properly, fingers brushing against the warm skin of his neck every few seconds.

“There,” you murmured finally. “Better.”

Silence.

You looked up confused.

Every single person in the kitchen was staring.

Toji looked moments away from losing consciousness laughing. Geto had physically covered his mouth trying to hide a grin while Shoko watched like she’d just witnessed a rare astronomical event.

Gojo pointed directly at Sukuna.

“HE’S BLUSHING.”

Your eyes snapped back upward instantly And there it was.

Faint pink dusting across Sukuna’s ears and creeping slowly over the bridge of his nose while he looked at you like his brain had short-circuited.

Your lips parted slightly to say something,

“…wait.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Sukuna muttered towards Gojo without taking his eyes off you once.

That only made everyone laugh harder.

“Oh this is BAD,” Geto said through laughter. “He’s gone.”

“To think,” Shoko sighed dramatically, “the campus plague finally domesticated.”

“Fuck off.” He told them.

But there was no bite in it.

Not really.

Because you were still standing close enough for him to feel the warmth coming off your body, your fingers lightly resting against his chest after fixing the chain.

And Sukuna looked wrecked by it.

You smiled , you just couldn’t hold it in.

“Aww,” you teased softly. “You’re embarrassed?”

His eyes narrowed immediately, but it lacked its usual sharpness.

“Don’t start.”

“You’re literally red.”

“I am not.”

“You kinda are,” Toji interrupted giddily.

Gojo looked ready to pass away from excitement. “I HAVE NEVER SEEN THIS MAN EXPERIENCE HUMAN EMOTION.”

Before you could say anything else, Sukuna suddenly grabbed your wrist gently and tugged you against his chest.

A small startled sound left you as his arm settled around your waist instinctively, keeping you tucked against his side like proximity itself calmed him down.

“Enough,” he muttered lowly.

But when you tilted your head up at him, smiling still lingering on your lips, the blush deepened anyway.

And the kitchen absolutely lost its mind.

“HE GOT SHY.”

“THIS IS INSANE.”

“Somebody take a picture.”

“I’m gonna be sick,” Gojo announced dramatically.

Sukuna flipped everyone off immediately.

Yet even while doing it, his thumb rubbed absentminded circles against your waist beneath the hoodie.

Like touching you had already become second nature to him.

He had learnt to be gentle with you at all times, which was kinda shocking for someone like him, but he did.

And when you reached up one more time to flatten the collar of his shirt, Sukuna leaned down automatically without even realizing he’d done it.

The room erupted so loudly someone from upstairs yelled asking if a fight broke out.

Everyone was enjoying this way to much.

Meanwhile Sukuna buried his face briefly against the top of your head, muttering,

“You’re never coming downstairs with me again.”

You could only laugh a little because you know that’s far from the truth.

jason todd who is gentle without even meaning to be.

he kisses the back of your hand while you’re walking side by side and smiles down at you when you startle. he stares like he can’t believe that you’re his and doesn’t hide it from you at all. instead he’ll rub the back of your hand with his thumb and put your hand in his pocket when it’s cold out. in the winter, he watches you shiver even in your coat and he’ll unzip his to hold you inside of it with him.

jason todd who is defensive on your behalf.

he’s attentive to what you like and what you don’t. he’s the type to excuse the both of you from a situation if he sees you’re even remotely uncomfortable. when someone makes a backhanded comment, he’s the first one to call it out. he has a little smile on his face while he throws it back at the other person and a shit eating grin when they cower at his comments.

jason todd who is more mindful of your habits than you are.

he’ll hold your hair back while you eat food to keep it from touching your plate and he’ll kiss you with your mouth full cause he just can’t resist it. after a long day at work he offers to rub your feet and often just gets on his knees before you to start while you complain about your boss. jason will talk to you about your cycle with genuine education and he’ll suggest period underwear when you have cramps. he doesn’t get grossed out by you. in fact, he embraces what would feel nasty or taboo and gets upset if you don’t feel the same.

jason todd who can’t stop spilling his guts out to you.

he follows you towards the bathroom and keeps the door open while you shower to keep talking. he’ll even ask to stay in the bathroom while you’re peeing and you’ll have to push him out only for him to continue his story through the door. if you’re exhausted, he just follows you into the shower and scrubs your back while he tells you all about something he witnessed today and turns around for you to do the same.

jason todd who has both a staring and a touching problem.

he doesn’t look away when you catch him staring. instead, he’ll tilt his head towards you and smile wider. if anything he just stares a little harder, leaning forward so his elbows are on his knees while he listens to you talk. maybe he’ll even cup your face and kiss the side of your face with a really wet sloppy kiss. he laughs when you wipe his spit from your cheek. he replaces it with another one but this time to your lips. the kiss holds deepening then suddenly softening until you’re breathless and forget to be mad at him.

Ryomen Sukuna was having the kind of day that made him want to commit a felony.

Work had been an absolute, unmitigated disaster. His clients were being brain-dead idiots, his emails had been piling up since 6:00 AM, and his boss had the audacity to drop a massive, last-minute project on his desk right as he was packing up to leave. By the time he finally unlocked the front door to your shared apartment, his jaw was clenched so tight his teeth ached. He was exhausted, he was pissed off, and he was fully prepared to pour himself a massive glass of whiskey and not speak to a single soul for the rest of the night.

He pushed the door open, dropping his keys into the bowl by the entrance with a loud, aggressive clatter. He shrugged off his suit jacket, loosening his tie with a harsh yank.

“I’m home,” he called out, his voice a low, gravelly grumble.

He expected you to be in the kitchen, or maybe curled up on the couch watching some trashy reality TV show. He expected you to ask him how his day was, which would inevitably lead to him ranting for twenty minutes straight.

Instead, there was silence.

Sukuna frowned, his bad mood spiking just a fraction. He walked down the hallway and stepped into the living room.

He stopped dead in his tracks.

You were sitting cross-legged on the floor, hunched over the coffee table. The entire surface was completely covered in hundreds of microscopic, brightly colored plastic bricks. You were wearing one of his oversized t-shirts, your hair tied up in a messy bun that was slowly falling apart.

But the best part? The absolute most ridiculous, endearing part?

You were squinting so hard your nose was scrunched up, and the very tip of your tongue was poking out of the corner of your mouth in pure, unadulterated concentration. Your fingers, which were currently trying to snap a tiny, translucent green piece onto a microscopic brown cylinder, were trembling slightly from the effort.

You hadn’t even heard him come in. You were entirely, completely consumed by your task.

Sukuna stood there in the doorway, his suit jacket dangling from his fingers. He didn’t say a word. He just watched you.

You were a serial hobbyist. Every month, it was something new. Knitting, painting by numbers, making weird little clay frogs that currently haunted his nightstand. He usually just rolled his eyes, funded your little hyper-fixations, and let you do your thing.

But this? This tiny, intricate Lego flower shop you had apparently bought today? It had you in a chokehold.

Snap.

The tiny green piece finally clicked into place.

You let out a massive, dramatic gasp of victory, throwing your hands up in the air like you had just won the Super Bowl. “Yes! Take that, you stupid little plastic bitch!”

Sukuna let out a sudden, loud snort.

You jumped, spinning around so fast you nearly knocked over a pile of pink bricks. When you saw him standing there, your eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. The sheer, radiant joy on your face was blinding.

“Babe!” you squealed, scrambling up onto your knees. You carefully scooped up the tiny, completed structure in your hands and held it out toward him like it was the Holy Grail. “Baby, look! Look what I did!”

Sukuna slowly walked over, dropping his jacket onto the sofa. He looked down at your hands.

It was a tiny, incredibly detailed Lego flower shop. And sitting right in front of it was a single, slightly lopsided plastic rose that you had clearly customized.

“I made you this one,” you beamed, your chest puffing out with pride. You were practically vibrating with excitement. “It’s for your desk at work! Because you said your office is depressing! Do you like it?!”

Sukuna stared at the tiny plastic flower. Then, he looked at you.

You had a faint smudge of left over dinner on your cheek. Your oversized shirt was slipping off one shoulder. You were looking up at him with such pure, unfiltered adoration and excitement over a piece of plastic that it actually knocked the breath out of his lungs.

And just like that, it happened.

The stress of the last fourteen hours? Gone. The anger at his clients? Evaporated. The tension in his shoulders, the pounding headache behind his eyes, the overwhelming urge to burn his office building to the ground? It all just melted away, completely washed out by the sheer force of your ridiculous, beaming smile.

He didn’t just love you. That wasn’t a strong enough word anymore.

He looked at you, sitting on the floor surrounded by plastic bricks, offering him a fake flower to make his bad day better, and a single, crystal-clear thought rang through his head like a bell.

I need to marry this girl.

Not ‘I want to.’ Not ‘someday.’ Need. He needed to marry your crazy ass. He needed to lock this down permanently, because if he had to go through the rest of his miserable, stressful life without coming home to you poking your tongue out over a Lego set, he was going to lose his fucking mind.

“Sukuna?” you blinked, your smile faltering just a little when he didn’t immediately respond. You lowered your hands slightly. “Do you… not like it? I know it’s kind of dumb, but—”

“Shut up,” he breathed, his voice thick.

Before you could even process the command, he dropped to his knees right in front of you, completely ignoring the fact that he was crushing at least ten Lego pieces under his expensive suit pants.

He reached out, his large hands gently cupping your face. He didn’t even look at the flower shop. His red eyes were locked entirely on yours, burning with an intensity that made your heart stutter in your chest.

“Babe?” you whispered, suddenly hyper-aware of how close he was. “Are you okay? Was work bad?”

“Work was a fucking nightmare,” he murmured, his thumbs brushing over your cheekbones. “But I don’t care anymore.”

“You don’t?”

“No.” He leaned in, pressing his forehead against yours. He let out a long, shaky exhale, the last of his stress leaving his body. “I love it, baby. It’s perfect. I’m putting it right in the middle of my desk.”

Your smile instantly returned, brighter than before. “Really?!”

“Really,” he chuckled, the sound deep and vibrating against your skin. He tilted your chin up, capturing your lips in a slow, desperate kiss. It wasn’t heated or rough; it was incredibly soft, filled with a kind of overwhelming reverence that made your toes curl.

When he finally pulled back, he kept his face inches from yours. He looked down at your lips, then back up to your eyes.

“I’m gonna marry you,” he said.

It wasn’t a proposal. It wasn’t a question. It was a statement of absolute, undeniable fact. He said it casually, like he was commenting on the weather, but the weight behind his words was heavy enough to anchor a ship.

Your brain short-circuited. You sat there, frozen, the tiny Lego flower shop still clutched in your hands. “What?”

“You heard me,” he smirked, his usual arrogant confidence bleeding back into his tone. He leaned in and pressed a loud, wet kiss to your cheek, then your jaw, then the sensitive skin just below your ear. “I’m gonna marry your crazy ass. Put a ring on your finger so big you won’t be able to lift your hand to build these stupid little toys.”

“They’re not stupid!” you squawked, your face flushing bright red as his words finally registered. “And you can’t just drop that on me while I’m holding a Lego!”

“I just did,” he laughed, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you flush against his chest, completely ruining your posture. He buried his face in your neck.

You let out a breathless, watery laugh, carefully setting the flower shop down on the table before wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders. You ran your fingers through his pink hair, feeling the last of the tension bleed out of his muscles.

“Okay,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Okay, Ryomen.”

“Good,” he mumbled against your skin. He shifted slightly, his knee crunching against a pile of plastic. He winced. “Now, help me up. I think a fucking Lego is embedded in my kneecap.”

“I told you to take your work pants off first!”

“Just kiss me again and shut up.”

Pairing: Jason Todd x reader

Summary: Jason keeps the receipt from your first date and you find out on a quiet, soft evening.

Disclosure: jason is a cutie, fluffy, jason is described to be taller than reader, could be read as gn!reader, no mentions of skin color and/or description of size/figure, they call each other baby, reader calls him jaylove, jason is a little self conscious of his actions

a/n: i haven’t written in so long but this flowed so easily, although i’m not that happy with my writing. let me know if you have some suggestion on what i could change. english is not my first language and this is not proofread. please don’t be afraid to like, reblog and/or comment!! 🫶

“I love this scene.” you murmur quietly, watching as a movie plays on the tv while you’re laying on the couch in your and Jason’s shared apartment.

Jason is sat next to you, one arm carefully laid across your shoulders as he twirls a piece of your hair between his fingers.

night time is the best time for you both. it finally gives you a chance to wind down and relax from a busy day. the TV plays quietly in the quiet bedroom, he can’t remember what you both picked to watch tonight, maybe it was something you had chosen a few weeks ago and forgot to watch or maybe it was his pick, he doesn’t care either way. he’s more focused on you.

you’re curled up into his side, head tucked comfortably on his bare chest with your hand placed right beside it, and he is 99% sure you had fallen asleep not that long ago. he had one arm wrapped around you, thumb slowly stroking the skin of your shoulder and traced the apple of your cheek with his other finger, heart swelling when you sigh softly and curl more into him.

your lashes flutter against your cheek each time he drags his finger up and down, your soft snores and warm breath hitting his skin, causing his lips to curl up into a tired yet fond smile. a sudden shimmer of a smirk caught his attention, and he reluctantly turned away from your face and his eyes instantly landed on your hand.

more or so on the glittery diamond on your finger rested.

pride swells up in him, memories of every promise and vow echo in his mind as he gently reaches the hand that was stroking your cheek, out towards your hand and carefully wrapped his fingers around yours, bringing your hand up to his lips. he stares at the wedding ring for a while, smiling to himself once his thumb brushes across it.

he remembers the day he bought it, remembers how long he had it sitting in his jacket pocket on every single date you both went on. he always chickened out, not because he didn’t want to marry you, he was just scared and nervous you would say no. he remembers the night he managed to push through those worries on a random wednesday; you were both on the couch, eating your favourite take out and he couldn’t stop thinking of, despite how much you cried at one of your shows, you still looked effortlessly beautiful and how badly he was in love with you and that was all it took for him to blurt it out.

yes, he proposed to you while you were completely in tears over something on the television, clad in a pair of his sweatpants that were too big and a hoodie that had been washed so many times the colour was fading. despite so many of your friends going on vacation and getting proposed to, this was perfect for you. with the man you loved, eating food you both enjoy. you didn’t need to spend extortionate amounts of money for this moment. if he was there with you, it’s all you needed.

a tear slips down his cheek at the memory of your fork dropping onto the floor and a wide wet smile appears on your face the longer he stares at the wedding ring, but hearing you shout and scream yes over and over again in excitement will truly be one of the happiest memories he has of you.

he brings your hand closer, and then he’s pressing his lips to your fingers, the coldness of the metal melting against his skin, moving between your fingers and ring. “i love you.” he murmurs between kisses, each one a promise, something soft and precious just for you.

your fingers squeeze around his subconsciously and his heart leaps again, eyes leaving your hand and flickering to your face again. you looked more content, a subtle smile on your face despite being deeply asleep. his lips pressed against your wedding ring again, this time longer and his eyes never once left your face. watching your reaction. loving you even in silence.

the arm he still has around you, his thumb still continues those slow strokes, relaxing you without him even fully realising it. he can’t stop the way he litters kisses over your fingers, some on your wrist, he just keeps going because he loves you. you’re his entire world.

after a while, he finally slides his fingers between yours, gripping your hand gently and protectively and it’s only when he slides his other hand down from your shoulder and down your arm slowly that his eyes catch the gold band around his finger.

ring or not, you’re his and he’s yours. everything he has is yours no matter what. he walks the ground you walk on and making you happy and making sure you feel so loved is always at the front of his mind.

intertwined hands, he rests them both back on his chest and turns his head, presses his lips to your forehead and inhales softly. “i love you,” he repeats under his breath, thumb moving back and forth against your knuckles this time. “everything i have is yours, everything i do is for you, for us, forever.”

Sanji: I want to be with you for the rest of my life Y/N: Damn, that sounds like a marriage proposal Sanji: - getting down on one knee - Sanji: That's because it is

（contents）♪ f reader、slight hurt w/ comfort、reader is chubby/fat、talks of body issues & not eating . . 𓊆ྀི wc: 1.4k 𓊇ྀི

𝓝ot𝑒 ⊹ this is kinda self indulgent sigh . . && important! i wrote smth like this on an old account with a rather similar premise but it's quite different so this is basically a re-write of that :3

being the cook of the strawhats is a job that sanji takes extremely seriously, everyone aboard knows that. he always wants the entire crew to be well-fed and to wholly enjoy the delicious meals he prepares everyday without fail — and everybody does, never leaving even the tiniest morsel of food on the table, with luffy licking the bottom of the plates until they look like they've just been washed.

every one of the members ravishes their food.

so why don't you?

satoru is getting old !

s.g x reader. fluff

ㅤꨄ︎

"I adore you, mon chef."

His head snapped up in surprise from the unexpected name, his cheeks flush with color and mouth slightly ajar. His hands stilled from cutting the lemon for your tea. You're still gazing at him, chin resting in the palm of your hand as you watch him flush. He tries to find his words, sputtering once, then twice, before his eyes flicker down, then back up at you, his face growing redder by the second.

You giggled softly at him. "I really do."

He sighed, trying to sort out his words. "Ma chérie..." he murmured, somewhat regaining his composure. Wiping his hands on a nearby towel, he pushed off the counter and made his way over to the other side where you sat.

His hands found your waist as your hands trailed up his biceps and shoulders to wrap around his neck. He dipped his head down to hide in the curve of your neck. "Your chef.. it's like a dream come true." he spoke softly into your skin, his breath ghosting over your nape. The heat of his face seeping into your neck made you chuckle as you caressed his hair. “And to be adored by you? I’m not sure what I did to deserve that.” he murmured.

You exhaled and smiled as you gently brought your arms down to his chest to push him up to face you. He stood there, eyes focused only on you, with blushing cheeks apparent even in the dimly lit kitchen.

“You clearly haven’t seen your loving heart in the ways I have if you’re saying that, my love.”

His middle of his curly brows lifted up as he gave you a soft smile. He let out a breathy laugh as he lowered his head back down to rest his forehead against yours. “A compliment like that from you? How could I ever deny it.”