#strawberrychanwrites

soft sukuna with overly affectionate clingy fem!reader >3

m.list

soft sukuna tries to act like he’s annoyed when you follow him from room to room, but he actually slows down his walking pace so you don’t trip while you’re trying to hold onto his sleeve.

soft sukuna will be sitting down trying to look serious, and when you climb into his lap and bury your face in his neck, he lets out a really long sigh, but his bottom two arms immediately wrap around your waist to hold you steady.

soft sukuna has a special way of head-patting you where he uses his big hand to cover your whole head, and even though he says "you're such a pest," he’s actually using his thumb to pet your temple really gently.

soft sukuna gets very quiet when you're being extra clingy in front of other people; he won't look at you, but he’ll reach back and grab your hand, squeezing it so tight to let you know he likes the attention.

soft sukuna pretends he hates it when you use his chest as a pillow, but if you try to move away because you think he's uncomfortable, he’ll grunt and pull you back closer until you’re tucked right under his chin.

soft sukuna lets you play with his extra eyes and face markings when you’re bored, and even though he tells you to "stop touching the king," he actually closes all four of his eyes and starts to drift off to sleep because he likes the feeling of your fingers.

soft sukuna always makes sure you’re wearing one of his robes when it’s cold, and he’ll act like he’s just "tired of hearing you complain about the chill," but really he just likes seeing you drowned in his scent and clothes.

soft sukuna has a habit of resting his chin on top of your head whenever you’re hugging his middle, and he’ll start humming a low, rumbly sound that feels like a cat purring just to make you giggle.

soft sukuna secretly loves it when you’re needy and ask for kisses; he’ll roll his eyes and say "you're so demanding," but then he’ll give you like five kisses all over your face until you're smiling.

soft sukuna gets a little bit protective when you're not touching him; he’ll literally hook a finger into your belt loop or the back of your shirt just to keep you within arm's reach at all times.

soft sukuna lets you brush his strawberry pink hair even though it takes forever, and he’ll sit perfectly still on the floor while you put little clips in it, only complaining when you accidentally pull a tangle.

soft sukuna loves when you fall asleep on him; he’ll stay in the exact same position for hours, even if his legs go numb, just because he doesn't want to wake you up from your nap.

soft sukuna sometimes gets overwhelmed by how much he wants you, so he’ll pin your hands above your head and growl softly about how dangerous it is to be this clingy to a curse, but then he just ends up peppering your neck with soft, slow kisses and bites.

soft sukuna likes to pull you onto his lap while he’s sitting on his throne, whispering into your ear about all the things he wants to do to you later, while his hands wander just a little bit lower than your waist to make your heart race.

jjk.mlist

art credit: 2468_carp on twitter

content: pure fluff. soft!sukuna, modern au, husband!sukuna x wife!reader.

the late afternoon sun was streaming through the windows of the nursery, casting everything in a warm, golden glow as you held your phone up to record. you leaned against the doorframe, watching the two most important people in your life. baby yuji was standing on his wobbly little legs, his tiny hands gripping onto the edge of his crib for support. he looked so much like his father, with that same unruly pink hair that stuck up in every direction, though his big, round eyes were full of a soft innocence that sukuna usually lacked. he was dressed in a little yellow onesie that made him look like a tiny sunbeam against the hardwood floor.

"come on, baby," you whispered, your voice thick with affection as you adjusted the camera. "you can do it. just hold on to daddy, he’s got you."

sukuna was crouched a few feet away, his large frame looking almost out of place in the middle of the soft rugs and stuffed animals. he had his sleeves rolled up, and even though he was trying to keep his usual bored, unimpressed expression, you could see the way his eyes were locked onto yuji with an intensity that gave him away. he reached out his hands, not quite touching the boy but staying close enough to catch him.

"come on, brat," sukuna grumbled, his voice deep and gravelly, though it lacked any real bite. "stop shaking and just take a step. you’re supposed to be my son."

yuji let out a high-pitched babble, a string of nonsense sounds that ended in a wide, toothless grin. he took a shaky, uncertain step forward, his knees buckling for a second before he caught his balance. he looked surprised by his own movement, his little arms flailing slightly as he tried to find his center. he let out a frustrated little huff, his face scunching up in a way that was a mirror image of sukuna’s scowl.

"dada!" yuji suddenly chirped, the word coming out surprisingly clear.

you felt your heart melt behind the camera lens. sukuna froze for a split second, his breath hitching, though he quickly masked it by narrowing his eyes. "don't try to sweet-talk your way out of this. keep moving."

yuji took another step, then another, his movements clumsy and heavy as he lurched toward his father. he looked like a baby bird trying to find its wings, his tiny feet padding softly against the floor. with one final, daring lunge, he collapsed forward, right into sukuna’s waiting chest.

the recording caught the exact moment sukuna’s facade crumbled. a genuine smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. he scooped the boy up into the air, lifting him high above his head. yuji squealed with delight, his little legs kicking in the air as he looked down at his father.

"not bad," sukuna muttered, his voice sounding much softer now as he brought yuji back down to tuck him against his side. "i suppose you aren't completely useless."

he reached over to the rocking chair and grabbed a stuffed tiger plushie, shoving it into yuji’s arms. yuji immediately hugged it to his chest, burying his face in the soft fabric while making happy little grunting noises.

you finally lowered your phone, walking over to the two of them with a wide smile. you reached out and took yuji from sukuna’s arms, the weight of your son feeling perfect against your hip. sukuna stood up, stretching his back and acting like he hadn't just been having a moment of pure pride.

"you did so good, yuji," you cooed, leaning down to press a long, lingering kiss to the top of his soft, pink-haired head. you looked over at your husband, who was watching you both with a look that was far too tender for a man of his reputation. "and you did good too, kuna."

you were sitting on the edge of the fountain in the private gardens, watching the sun dip below the palace walls, when you heard the heavy, familiar sound of boots against the stone path. zuko was walking toward you, looking more like the boy you’d fallen in love with back when you guys were teenagers than the fire lord who sat on a throne all day. he had ditched his heavy ceremonial robes for a simple, sleeveless tunic in deep crimson and gold, his hair pulled back into a topknot that a few stray strands had already escaped from.

"there you are," he murmured, his voice sounding low and raspy from a long day of meetings.

you stood up as he reached you, and he didn't hesitate to pull you into a hug. as his arms wrapped around you, the first thing you noticed was the sheer heat radiating off him—and then, the solid weight of his arms. without the layers of silk covering him, you could feel every inch of his biceps pressing against your shoulders. they felt like warm marble, thick and incredibly firm. you leaned into him, your hands sliding up his arms instinctively. your fingers brushed over the smooth, bunched muscle of his upper arms, and you couldn't help but let out a tiny, impressed hum.

"zuko," you whispered into his chest, your palms flat against his biceps now. "when did you even have time to train today? you feel... different."

he pulled back just enough to look down at you, a small, tired smirk playing on his lips. "i spent two hours with my uncle this morning before the sun was even up. why? is something wrong?"

"no, definitely not wrong," you said, squeezing the muscle under your hand. it didn't give an inch. "it’s just that this shirt really shows off how much work you've been putting in. your arms are huge."

zuko’s face flushed a light pink, his golden eyes flickering with a mix of bashfulness and pride. he shifted his weight, crossing his arms over his chest—an action that only made the muscles swell and pop even more against the fabric of his vest. the definition was ridiculous; you could see the way his biceps peaked and how the veins traced slight paths down to his forearms.

"it's just from basic forms," he muttered, though he didn't move your hands away.

"come on, let me see," you teased, giving him a playful nudge. "actually flex for me. i want to see if they're as solid as they feel."

he let out a soft huff of a laugh, shaking his head. "you're ridiculous. i'm the fire lord, i shouldn't be standing in the garden flexing like a show-off."

"please? just for your wife? no one is looking," you pleaded, looking up at him with wide eyes.

zuko sighed, but the corners of his mouth were twitching. he uncrossed his arms and took a half-step back. he took a breath, and then, with a bit of a dramatic flair he’d probably learned from uncle iroh, he brought his arm up and flexed. his bicep surged upward, the muscle becoming a hard, rounded knot that looked powerful enough to snap a spear in half. the skin was tight over the peak, and the sheer size of it made your jaw drop slightly.

you reached out, poking the center of the muscle with one finger. it was rock hard. "okay, you’re definitely not just doing basic forms."

zuko laughed, the tension of the day finally bleeding out of his shoulders as he relaxed the pose and pulled you back into his space. "are you satisfied now, or am i going to have to do the other arm too?"

"hmm, i would definitely like that," you whispered, your voice trailing off as your hands slid from his waist back up to his shoulders. you couldn't help yourself; the way the sunlight hit the definition of his arms was too distracting to ignore.

zuko let out a low, vibrant chuckle that you could feel vibrating against your own chest. he seemed to enjoy the attention more than he was willing to admit. "you're obsessed," he teased, though his eyes were warm and full of affection.

to satisfy your curiosity, he shifted his stance and grazed the other arm, tightening the muscle just enough for you to see the way his triceps flared and the skin pulled taut over his shoulder. he looked incredibly powerful standing there in the garden light, the dark fabric of his sleeveless vest contrasting against his skin.

he didn't let you stare for too long, though. before you could make another comment about his training routine, he reached out and cupped your face with his hand, his thumb catching your chin to tilt your head up. his expression softened instantly, all the lingering stress from his meetings finally vanishing.

he leaned down, his breath warm against your skin, and pressed a deep, lingering kiss to your lips. it was sweet and slow, tasting like the tea he'd had earlier and feeling like home. as he pulled you closer, his arms wrapped around you again, and you could feel the immense strength in his frame holding you steady against him.

"i think we should stay right here for a little longer," he murmured against your lips, his voice dropping into a low, private register that sent a shiver down your spine.

art credit: @fleurs-et-furets

the firelight in the throne room was low, casting long, flickering shadows against the tapestries that hung from the walls. zuko was sitting at his desk, his shoulders hunched over a stack of scrolls that never seemed to get any smaller. you watched him from the doorway for a moment, noticing the way his brow was furrowed in that familiar, stressed expression he always wore when he thought he was alone. he looked every bit the fire lord—regal, tired, and carrying the weight of the world—but to you, he was just zuko.

you walked over quietly, your footsteps muffled by the thick rugs, and stood behind his chair. you placed your hands on his shoulders, feeling the tension there like coiled springs. he let out a long, weary sigh and leaned his head back against you, closing his eyes.

"you should be asleep," he murmured, his voice raspy from a day of endless meetings.

"so should you," you replied softly, your fingers kneading the knots in his muscles. "the earth kingdom trade agreements will still be there in the morning, zuko. come to bed."

he turned in his seat to look at you, and the golden light hit the left side of his face. your eyes drifted, as they often did, to the heavy, red scar tissue that bloomed across his eye and temple. it was a part of him, as much as his golden eyes or his stubborn heart. instinctively, you reached out, your thumb grazing the edge of the damaged skin.

zuko flinched. it wasn't a violent movement, but a quick, self-conscious jerk away from your hand. he looked down at the desk, his hand rising to cover the scar as if to hide it from you.

"don't," he whispered, his voice tinged with a sudden, sharp vulnerability. "it’s... it is not something you should want to touch. i know how it looks."

you didn't pull away. instead, you stepped closer, gently taking his wrist and pulling his hand down so you could see him clearly. "i know exactly how it looks, zuko. i’m looking at it right now. why do you still hide from me?"

"because it’s a mark of shame," he said, and you could hear the old bitterness creeping back into his tone, the ghost of the boy he used to be. "it's a reminder of everything i lost and the cruelty that made me. it isn't something beautiful. it’s a deformity."

you felt a pang of sadness in your chest, hearing him speak about himself that way after all these years. you leaned in, cupping his face with both hands, forcing him to meet your gaze. your fingers traced the uneven texture of the scar with a feather-light touch, lingering on the ridges of skin.

"you are so wrong," you told him firmly. "to me, this isn't a mark of shame. it’s a mark of your strength. it shows everything you survived and the man you chose to become despite it. you’re beautiful, zuko. inside and out."

he let out a dry, disbelieving laugh, though his eyes were softening. "you're just saying that because you love me. no one looks at a burn like this and thinks it's beautiful. i see the way people look at me in the streets when they think i'm not watching. they see a monster, or a victim."

"well, i'm not 'people,'" you countered, moving your hand to brush a stray lock of dark hair behind his ear. "i’m the person who knows you best. and i think you’re the handsomest man in the four nations. scar and all. especially with the scar, because it’s part of your face, and i love your face."

you leaned forward and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to his right cheek, the unscarred side. he let out a shaky breath, his eyes fluttering shut. then, you shifted, pressing a second kiss directly onto the center of his scarred temple. he stiffened for a second, his breath hitching in his throat, but he didn't pull away this time.

"stop," he breathed, though his hands had found your waist, pulling you closer. "you don't have to do this."

"i want to," you whispered against his skin. you kissed the bridge of his nose, then moved back to the scar, kissing the corner of his eye where the skin was tightest. "i love you. i love every single inch of you. i love your stubbornness, i love your dorky jokes, and i love this scar because it belongs to the man who holds my heart."

zuko finally broke. the wall of royal composure he kept up during the day crumbled, and he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his arms tightening around you until there was no space left between you. you could feel the heat radiating off him, the steady thrum of his inner fire calming down.

"i don't understand how you can look at me like that," he admitted, his voice muffled against your shoulder. "after everything... i still feel like that boy waiting for his father's approval sometimes. and then you look at me, and it's like i'm actually someone worth loving."

you ran your fingers through his hair, holding him tight. "you’ve always been worth loving. you were just the last one to find out. do you believe me yet? or do i have to keep kissing you until you get the point?"

he pulled back just enough to look at you, a small, genuine smile finally tugging at the corners of his mouth. his eyes were bright, shimmering with a mix of relief and affection.

"maybe a few more kisses wouldn't hurt," he said softly, his voice finally losing that heavy edge of doubt.

art credit: @hunnismokah

m.list

boyfriend!tsukishima who pretends he’s too cool to care about your outfit but secretly memorizes every single thing you wear so he can buy you a matching accessory for your birthday.

boyfriend!tsukishima who sighs dramatically when you ask for a hug, calling you "annoying" and "clingy," yet he’s already opening his arms and leaning down to make it easier for you to reach him.

boyfriend!tsukishima who listens to his music with only one earbud in whenever you’re around, just in case you say something he doesn’t want to miss.

boyfriend!tsukishima who uses his height to tease you, holding your phone or your favorite snack just out of reach until you pouts, then immediately giving it back with a tiny, triumphant smirk.

boyfriend!tsukishima who gets incredibly protective during away games, standing right behind you in the crowd and placing a firm hand on your shoulder to let everyone know exactly who you belong to.

boyfriend!tsukishima who corrects your grammar or your facts mid-sentence, not because he wants to be mean, but because he thinks your "angry" face is the cutest thing on the planet.

boyfriend!tsukishima who has a secret playlist on his phone titled with just your initial, filled with soft, acoustic songs that remind him of the way you look in the morning.

boyfriend!tsukishima who actually shares his strawberry shortcake with you, which is the ultimate sign of devotion since he barely lets yaguchi have a bite.

boyfriend!tsukishima who looks at you over the rim of his glasses while he’s studying, his golden eyes softening in a way that would absolutely shock his teammates.

boyfriend!tsukishima who gets flustered and looks away, clicking his tongue, when you tell him he played well, even though his heart is actually racing from the praise.

boyfriend!tsukishima who finally says he loves you in the middle of a quiet library, whispering it against the top of your head so quietly that you almost think you imagined it until he squeezes your hand.

art credit: @syllysmot jjk.mlist

the soft glow of your bedside lamp was the only thing lighting up the room, casting a warm hue over the blankets on your bed where you were currently buried. yuji was heavy against you, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm as he used your stomach as his personal pillow. he was a literal human heater, but you didn't mind the warmth at all. his broad shoulders took up most of the space, and he looked so incredibly peaceful compared to the chaos he usually dealt with during the day.

you reached out, your fingers diving into the messy, spiky strands of his strawberry pink hair. it was surprisingly soft, despite how gravity-defying it usually looked. on the nightstand, you had a stray pack of hello kitty hair clips that you’d bought on a whim, and you couldn't resist the urge to reach for them.

"hey, what are you doing back there?" yuji mumbled, his voice muffled by your sweatshirt as he nuzzled closer into your lap. he didn't move to stop you, though; in fact, he tilted his head back just a little to give you better access.

"just making you look even prettier than usual," you whispered back, carefully sliding a tiny pink bow clip into a section of his hair. then another one. and another.

yuji let out a little huff of a laugh, the vibration of it tickling you. "pretty, huh? i bet i look real tough right now. if gojo-sensei  walked in, he’d never let me live this down. he’d probably take a picture and set it as his lockscreen just to spite me."

"well, luckily for you, gojo isn't here," you said, smoothing down a stray hair and adding a fourth clip near his temple. "you look adorable, yuji. the pink matches your hair perfectly. it’s like they were made for you."

he groaned playfully, but he turned his face upward to look at you, his big brown eyes full of nothing but affection. his cheeks were slightly flushed from the heat of the blankets. "as long as you think i look good, i guess i can handle being a hello kitty mascot for the night. are there a lot of them?"

"just enough," you smiled, leaning down to kiss the tip of his nose. "you’re being very well-behaved. do you want a reward?"

yuji grinned, that wide, goofy smile that always made your heart skip a beat. he reached up, grabbing your hand and pulling it down so he could nuzzle his face into your palm. "my reward is just staying right here. seriously, i could stay like this for a hundred years. your bed is way more comfortable than mine, and you smell way better than my room does."

"that’s because you live with boys who train all day," you pointed out, scratching the back of his neck, which earned you a soft, contented sigh.

he closed his eyes again, shifting his weight so he was tucked right against your side, his arms wrapping around your waist in a loose but grounding hug. "yeah, maybe. but even if they used all the scented candles in the world, it wouldn't be the same. you're just... you're home. you know?"

you felt a swell of warmth in your chest that had nothing to do with the blankets. you continued to play with the clips, twisting the pink hair around your fingers. "i know. i feel the same way."

"good," he murmured, his voice trailing off as he started to drift. "don't take them out yet. i want to see if i can sleep with them in. just don't tell anyone i've gone soft."

girl dad & husband!zuko x wife reader >3

note: d/n = daughter’s name

credits: art by @emmakubert (link) and divider by @pixopix

the sun was shining really bright through the windows of the fire palace and you were just trying to take a nap on the big red sofa. zuko was sitting at his desk looking at a giant pile of scrolls and he looked like his head was going to explode from all the stress of being the fire lord.

"zuko, honey, please stop staring at that paper. the paper isn't going to fix the colonies by itself," you said while stretching your arms.

zuko sighed really loud and rubbed his eyes. "i know but if i don't finish this today, the council will be so annoying tomorrow. i just want to go for a walk."

suddenly the big heavy doors swung open and you heard the sound of little feet running really fast on the floor. d/n came sprinting in with her little fire nation robes flowing behind her and she had a giant smile on her face. behind her was uncle iroh carrying a tray with four cups and a steaming teapot.

"tea time! tea time! daddy, mommy, it’s tea time!" d/n shouted as she tripped a little bit on the rug but saved herself.

iroh chuckled and set the tray down on the low table. "slow down, little lotus. the tea is hot and the floor is not going anywhere."

iroh looked at you and zuko and gave a little bow. "i thought my favorite nephew and his lovely wife looked like they were wilting like flowers in the sun. so, i brought some special jasmine tea."

"uncle, i’m really busy," zuko started to say, but d/n climbed right onto his lap and put her tiny hands on his cheeks.

"no work, papa. only tea," she said very seriously.

iroh poured a cup and handed it to d/n to give to her father. "careful now, it is a very important mission."

d/n held the cup with both hands and moved super slowly toward zuko’s face. iroh watched her with so much pride in his eyes. "see, zuko? she has the steady hands of a master. perhaps a tea master in the making?"

"she's five, uncle," zuko laughed, finally relaxing his shoulders.

"a very talented five!" iroh poked zuko’s arm. "now drink. it is better than those dusty scrolls."

you sat up and took a cup from iroh. "thank you, uncle. you always know when we’re about to lose our minds."

d/n watched zuko take a sip and then she grabbed a little honey cake from the tray and tried to shove the whole thing into iroh’s mouth. "here gampy iroh! you need sugar!"

iroh laughed so hard he almost dropped his own tea. "thank you, my dear. a little sugar for a sweet old man." he took a bite and made a funny face like it was the best thing he ever ate, which made d/n giggle like crazy.

zuko set his tea down and picked up d/n to give her a hug. "okay, okay, i'm done working for a bit."

d/n leaned in and gave zuko a giant, loud kiss right on his scarred cheek. "i love you daddy! you smell like old paper but i love you!"

zuko froze for a moment, his heart melting, then kissed her cheek back. “i love you too, d/n. and i love your mom too.”

you leaned over and bumped your shoulder against zuko's. “ i love you too.”

iroh sat down on the floor with all of you and sighed happily. "good tea, good company, and no one is shouting. this is a very good afternoon."

d/n climbed into the middle of the group and hugged everyone at the same time. "we are the best fire family ever!"

Opla Sanji x fem!reader Op.mlist

content: fluff. reader loves peanut butter. a/n: this one is completely self‑indulgent because I’ve developed a dangerous obsession with peanut butter lately. since I’ve also been enjoying the live‑action, I decided to make this one with OPLA Sanji.

The Going Merry was unusually quiet, the only sound being the gentle creaking of wood against the evening waves. You tried to be stealthy, padding across the deck in your thick socks, heading straight for the galley. You weren't looking for a full meal; you just had a very specific, very intense craving that only one thing could satisfy.

You creaked the door open, heading straight for the pantry. You reached for your personal jar of smooth peanut butter—the one Sanji had specially sourced for you at the last port—and grabbed a sturdy spoon.

"You know, if you were hungry, you only had to ask."

You nearly jumped out of your skin. Sanji was sitting at the galley table, a single candle burning in front of him as he looked over a ledger of their food supplies. He wasn't wearing his suit jacket, just his blue striped shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

"I didn't want to wake you," you whispered, clutching the jar to your chest like a prize. "And it's just a snack."

Sanji stood up, his movements fluid and graceful even in his tired state. He walked over to you, a soft, knowing smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "A snack? My darling, that is a jar of paste. You deserve a presentation."

"Sanji, no, it’s fine! I just want the peanut butter."

"Nonsense," he murmured. He gently took the jar from your hands, his fingers brushing against yours for a second longer than necessary.

You watched him work, mesmerized by how he treated even a simple snack like a five-star dessert. He sliced a perfectly ripe apple into thin, uniform crescents, arranging them in a starburst pattern on a small ceramic plate. Then, he took your spoon and swirled the peanut butter into a small, elegant mound in the center. He finished it off with a tiny drizzle of honey and a dash of cinnamon.

"There," he said, sliding the plate across the table toward you. "Better?"

You took a bite of an apple slice heavily loaded with the peanut butter. The saltiness of the nuts mixed with the honey and the crisp fruit was perfect. You closed your eyes, leaning back in the chair with a happy hum. "So much better. You’re a genius."

Sanji didn't go back to his ledger. Instead, he sat in the chair next to you, resting his chin on his hand. He just watched you eat, his blue eyes warm and incredibly focused.

"You have a bit... right there," he said softly.

Before you could reach for a napkin, he reached out. His thumb brushed the corner of your mouth, wiping away a tiny stray bit of peanut butter. He didn't pull his hand away immediately; his thumb lingered on your lower lip for a heartbeat, his expression softening into something so tender it made your stomach do more flips than Luffy on a trampoline.

"You really do love that stuff, don't you?" he teased, his voice dropping to a low, velvety register.

"It’s the best thing in the world," you replied breathlessly.

Sanji leaned in a little closer, the scent of sea salt and expensive tobacco clinging to him. "I'd argue there are much sweeter things on this ship."