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» t's library âŽ
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âi warm my hands to touch youâ â ryomen sukuna.
first year high schooler ryomen sukuna was starting to think volleyball had ruined his life. but it was not because he disliked it. if anything, the thought was opposite. quite annoyingly, he liked it far too much. much more than he thought he would possible. and frankly, it wouldnât have been what he expected more than a year and a half ago for himself.
he liked the impact of a perfect spike against his palm. it just felt too good, feeling that satisfying burn in his muscles after practice. he enjoyed watching the ball slam into the floor hard enough to make people flinch.Â
in some ways, there was something addictive about becoming stronger at something so quickly, about seeing people stare at him with the same mixture of awe and caution they always had. except now it was on a volleyball court instead of outside convenience stores after fights.
volleyball had also introduced him to a very specific problem. that was the unbeatable concept, the most unfathomable concept in the universe. the push and pull of destiny, the endless crash of the waves. the concept of loveâŠ.the concept of you.
it was something that he would have never thought of years ago, especially a year and a half ago. he wasnât the type of boy who could have ever been good at being gentle, let alone be willing to let his guard down and be vulnerable for anything, for anyone.Â
but somehow, ever since he started dating you, the former red eyed devil of the streets, that young delinquent he was, was no longer there. Instead, all that remained is this young man, this ryomen sukuna who had been acting like a complete idiot. a complete, embarrassing, hopeless idiot, who was head over heels in love with you.
and the worst part was that nobody could even believe it. nobody at school would ever imagine the infamous former delinquent ryomen sukuna, the guy teachers kept an eye on out of habit, the guy with tattoos peeking from beneath his uniform collar, the guy who looked mean even while half-asleep, was internally losing his mind because his girlfriend looked too cute holding a pen.
he could not believe it at first, but he quickly realized that he was now that sort of boy he used to think were just fools. he was now constantly looking up, waiting for you to be in his birdâs eye view, hoping to catch a glimpse of you and be relieved.Â
you sat in the gym almost every afternoon during volleyball practice, student council work spread neatly across your lap while you waited for him to finish. sometimes the manager would offer you a chair closer to the heaters during colder days, but you always stayed near the court because, according to you, âi like watching my boyfriend playâ and you repeated that all the time. which was a killer line.
because that sentence alone had nearly gotten him on his knees and made him realize that he couldnât breathe the first time you said it. then each time you had said it, it had him fighting for his life. he couldnât believe it. he was a boyfriend, and let alone, your boyfriend.Â
he couldnât go without you now.
he just knows that he canât do things without you.
how could he, when you are everything good in life?
today, practice had run late.the weather outside had shifted colder with the approaching rain, and even inside the gym, the air carried a chill that lingered against sweat-damp skin. the windows had fogged slightly near the corners, sunset light filtering weakly through the gray clouds overhead.
sukuna was exhausted, beyond comprehension. he could feel the way his head was fuzzy and light-headed. he dropped onto the bench beside you with a low exhale, towel hanging around his neck while he rolled one sore shoulder. his practice shirt clung slightly to his back, still damp from drills.
you looked up immediately from your paperwork. âthere you are, i couldnât see you.â you said softly. âi thought you left. its a good thing i saw your bag in here.â
âhad to do the drill outside, for terrain practice.â
âyou were doing extra spikes there, huh?â
âtch. coach asked, so i donât panic when if the volleyball floor isnât even.â
âyou scared two first-years, i heard. you kept asking the senpais for help and you kept glaring at them.â you couldnât help but say in a light tone. âyou could have smiled a little you know.â
âtheyâll survive without it.â he says as he takes his water bottle. ââsides they arenât you. why should they get my smile?â
âi suppose thatâs fair enough.â you tell him. âthough, you hit one hard enough that he ducked before the ball even crossed the net. be a bit more mindful next time.â
âhe should learn instincts then.â
your lips twitched faintly, the one you had been suppressing for a little bit now. sukuna watched the tiny smile form and immediately felt that stupid feeling in his chest again. god, there it was.
that thing. that unbearable tightness whenever you looked amused by him.
he clicked his tongue and grabbed his water bottle instead, trying to ignore the fact he was staring. you noticed anyway, because you always noticed. you blinked your eyes adorably and you tilted your head slightly. âwhat?â you asked.
ânothing.â
âyouâre staring again.â
âno, iâm not.â
âyou absolutely are.â
sukuna glared at you weakly before unscrewing his water bottle. unfortunately, the moment his fingers curled around the cold metal, he remembered something. he looked at your hands for a moment. he starts to think for a moment, about the way you hated the cold.Â
it wasnât dramatic, it wasnât unreasonable either. and you donât complain about it often. but he could just feel it, he could just see it. you couldnât cope. you just got quietly miserable whenever temperatures dropped even slightly.
you tucked your hands into your sleeves. your nose turned pink. you complained under your breath about frozen fingers while trying to maintain your usual composed student-president image.
and sukuna, sukuna thought it was the cutest thing he had ever seen in his entire life. which was a serious problem. because now every time the weather got cold, every time a place felt cold, or when something was too cold to the touch, he couldnât stop paying attention to you.
a few weeks ago, youâd grabbed his hand while walking home after rain. his muscular fingers had still been freezing from carrying an iced drink, and youâd immediately jerked in surprise before pouting up at him.
âyour hands are cold, âkuna.â youâd complained quietly. ânow mine are cold too.â
you hadnât even sounded upset. if anything, youâd sounded clingy, almost like you expected him to fix it. sukuna had spent the entire night afterward staring at his ceiling because the memory kept replaying in his head.
now it had permanently altered his behavior, his train of thought, his perspectives. so while you sat beside him in the chilly gym, absentmindedly rubbing your sleeves over your hands for warmth, sukunaâs brain short-circuited instantly.
fuck, there you went again.
you looked too cute.
way too cute for him to handle.
you didnât even realize you were doing it either, perhaps that was the worst part. your brows furrowed slightly as you tried warming your fingers beneath your sleeves while still reading over council papers, and sukuna physically had to look away for a second because something about it hit him directly in the chest.
how was anyone supposed to survive dating you?
âhow are you cold already, babe?â he muttered roughly.
you glanced at him with mild offense. âbecause itâs freezing.â
âit is not.â
ââkuna, i can literally see my breath outside.â
âthatâs normal.â
âit shouldnât be.â
you tucked your hands farther into your sleeves stubbornly, shoulders hunching a little against the cold air. and that, that right there nearly killed him. ryomen sukuna stared at you for a long second before dragging a hand down his face.
fuck it all, it was too much.
you were adorable.
actually adorable.
he hated this feeling. hated how soft you made him feel. hated how his chest kept tightening over things as stupid as your cold hands. before you could notice the crisis happening internally, sukuna abruptly started rubbing his palms together.
you blinked. âwhat are you doing right now?â
ânothing at all.â
âyouâre aggressively warming your hands.â
âi said itâs nothing.â
then, dissatisfied, he shoved both hands underneath the collar of his shirt to warm them properly against his skin. your eyes widened slowly as realization hit your face all at once.
and then you smiled. you couldnât help it, you couldnât help look at him so fondly.
âoh my godâŠâ you whispered.
âdonât.â
âyouâre warming your hands up for me.â
sukuna wanted the floor to open beneath him. âyouâre cold, okay?â he muttered defensively, refusing to look directly at you now. âyou hate cold stuff.â
your expression softened so visibly it made his stomach flip. ââkunaâŠâ
âitâs annoying watching you complain.â
âi complained once.â
âyou looked miserable.â
âbecause i was cold.â
âexactly.â
you stared at him for a moment longer, something unbearably affectionate settling in your expression. then you laughed quietly under your breath, so softly, it felt like a feather had landed on his skin, carefully placing its tenderness against him. sukuna felt like his organs were rearranging themselves.
âyouâre seriously so sweet, arenât you, kuna?â you said.
sukuna almost choked. sweet? him? absolutely not. âyouâre hallucinating, babe.â
âyouâre warming your hands because mine get cold.â
âyou act like youâre dying every time the temperature drops below twenty.â
âbecause cold weather is evil.â
âthereâs something wrong with you.â
âyou still like me.â
unfortunately, that was true. painfully true. and there was nothing he could do about it. sukuna finally pulled his hands back out from beneath his shirt before awkwardly holding one toward you, still refusing eye contact. âhere.â
you looked down at his hand, then back at him. and suddenly your entire expression melted. sukuna immediately knew he was finished. because there it was again. that look. that impossibly soft, affectionate look that made him feel like heâd been punched directly in the chest.
carefully, you slipped your hand into his. the second your fingers touched, your eyes brightened slightly.
âtheyâre warm.â you said quietly.
the happiness in your voice over something so small genuinely made sukunaâs brain stop functioning. fuck. fuck, you were cute. you held his hand with both of yours now like you were stealing his warmth, shoulders relaxing immediately.
ââkuna, youâre so good at everything you know?â you murmured, looking absurdly content, âhow could you just fix everything so easily? youâre like a healerâŠ..no, no, youâre like my personal heater.â
that did it. that actually did it. sukuna felt his entire face heat instantly as he stared at you in disbelief. you were holding his hand against your cheek now, eyes half-lidded in comfort from the warmth, and sukuna genuinely thought he might die right there in the middle of the gymnasium.
how could someone act like this and not realize what they were doing to him? how could you just cross the boundaries and make the greys turn into a rainbow? his heartbeat was so loud it was annoying. you noticed his silence and blinked up at him innocently. âwhat?â
sukuna looked away immediately, jaw tense. ââŠnothing.â
âyouâre blushing.â
âno, iâm not.â
âyou are.â
âitâs hot in here.â
âyou said it was cold.â
âtch.â
you laughed softly again before squeezing his hand tighter, still warming your fingers against his palm. and sukuna, he couldnât do anything else. sukuna looked at you curled against his warmth like trusting him came naturally, like loving him was easy, and felt something helpless bloom painfully inside his chest.
because nobody had ever needed gentleness from him before. nobody had ever looked this happy just because he remembered something small about them. he stared at your intertwined hands for a moment before muttering under his breath, almost too quietly to hear, he says, âyouâre gonna ruin me.â
you blinked. âhm?â
ânothing.â
but you smiled anyway, like maybe youâd heard him after all. and while the gym buzzed faintly around you with distant voices and squeaking shoes, ryomen sukuna sat there completely lovestruck, warming your hands between his own like it was the most important job in the world.
âi really do like you, âkuna.â you whispered to him softly, feeling warmth all over your face. âi promise, by next weekâŠiâll figure out what my nickname is for youâŠ.it canât just be you who has a cute one for me.â
he could feel his blush intensify. he lowers his head. âyâyou donât have to say shit like thatâfuckâŠ.â
ââkuna, are you okay?â
âIâŠiâm fine! justâŠjust keep letting my hands warm you, okay?....i warmed my hands to touch youâŠ.justâŠjust let it warm you up.â
"alright, alright....tsundere."
"i am not a tsundereâbabe!"
"hm...i believe you."
he blushed even more.
he knew you were right.
he just won't admit it.
".....just keep warm, okay?"
"okay." you smiled.
epilogueÂ
years later, olympic volleyball legend ryomen sukuna still warmed his hands before touching yours. it had become such an ingrained habit that he no longer consciously thought about it anymore. whenever the weather turned cold, whenever rain tapped against the windows or winter air slipped beneath doorframes, his body simply moved on instinct. rub his palms together. warm them against hot water or the fabric of his sweater. then reach for you.
you noticed every single time. this morning, rain drizzled softly outside the apartment while pale gray light filled the kitchen. the heater hummed near the corner, but apparently not enough for you, because you stood near the counter bundled in one of sukunaâs old hoodies with your hands tucked deep into the sleeves.
your nose was pink from the cold. sukuna thought you looked ridiculous. ridiculously cute for your own good. you frowned down at your coffee mug like it had personally betrayed you. âwhy is the floor cold?â
âbecause itâs winter, babe.â sukuna answered from the table without looking up. âbound to be cold iike this.â
âwell i don't like it.....winter is evil.â you sniffle.
âyou say that every year.â
âbecause every year itâs true.â
he finally glanced toward you then and immediately felt that familiar ache settle warmly in his chest. years later, and you still looked exactly the same whenever you were cold. the tiny pout. the way your shoulders hunched slightly. the way you curled your fingers into your sleeves like a disgruntled cat.
sukuna had once believed he would eventually grow used to loving you. nstead, it seemed to get worse with time. he still is overwhelmed each and every time by how much he feels for you, by how deep the depths get when it comes to you. yet he wouldn't trade this for the world. not one bit.
you sighed dramatically before shuffling toward him across the kitchen. âmy hands are freezing.â
âthat sounds like a personal problem.â
âyouâre so mean to me.â
âdo you want some hot cocoa?â
â.....yes, please. thank you.â
âalready have it on the kettle, babe.â he says from his seat, smiling. âgive it a few minutes, okay?â
â......okay.â
almost instinctively after that, you still moved directly between his legs where he sat at the table, leaning against him automatically. sukunaâs hands settled on your waist without thought.
then, after a brief pause, he clicked his tongue softly and pulled one hand away. you watched silently as he reached toward the sink, running warm water over his palms for several seconds first.
a smile slowly spread across your face. âstill doing that, huh?â you asked quietly.
sukuna dried his hands with a towel before looking back at you. âdoing what?â
âwarming your hands before touching me.â
âyour hands get cold.â
âso?â
âso i donât like when you complain about it.â
you laughed softly beneath your breath, and sukuna immediately felt his heartbeat stutter in the same humiliating way it always had.
he still remembered being sixteen years old and internally panicking in the school gym because your fingers had gotten cold from his.
now, years later, he was married to you, living with you, waking up beside you every morning and somehow he still reacted exactly the same.
you reached for him the second he held his hands out, slipping your smaller freezing ones into his warm palms with an immediate relieved sigh. âthere he is.â you murmured happily. âmy human heater.â
sukuna rolled his eyes, but his grip tightened automatically around your fingers. then he noticed the tiny pleased smile spreading across your face while you warmed your hands against his.
fucking hell.
still cute.
still unfairly cute.
he leaned down to kiss your forehead, already feeling that familiar helpless warmth blooming in his chest, when tiny footsteps suddenly pattered through the path of the hallway.
both of you turned. ryomen sukumi stood there sleepily in oversized bear-print pajamas, one tiny fist rubbing against her eye while her stuffed rabbit dragged limply behind her.
sukuna froze immediately. because somehow, every single morning, seeing his daughter still caught him off guard. one-year-old sukumi was so much like you it was honestly ridiculous.
your rounded cheeks. the same whimsy in your eyes. your adorable expressions. your habits. especially your habits. she may be his carbon copy but everything she is, all he can see is you and only you.
right now, she stood in the middle of the hallway with her tiny hands shoved deep into her pajama sleeves exactly the same way you did. same pout too. same betrayed expression toward the cold air.
sukuna physically felt something cave in his chest at the sight. you noticed immediately and bit back a smile. âgood morning, kumi, my baby.â you said softly. âyou're already up?â
sukumi looked at you with watery sleepy eyes before mumbling miserably, âcoldâŠâ
and there it was. that same exact tone you used every winter morning. the kettle was sounding but all he could hear was that sound, like back then. that tenderness of his heartbeat at the sight of this wonder. sukuna stared at his daughter in complete silence while realization slowly settled over him all over again.
she was exactly like you, in everything.
sukumi waddled farther into the kitchen before lifting both tiny arms upward dramatically. âmamaâŠ'kumi cold.â
you crouched instantly, brushing her messy hair back. âyour hands are cold?â
sukumi nodded sadly. âvery cold.â
sukuna watched the entire interaction with narrowing eyes as he turned off the kettle. he could not take his sight of you and sukumi. because she even complained like you. this was unbelievable. and yet all he could think was, how wonderful this was. how the two pieces of you two made someone as lovable and tender and cute as you, his beloved wife.
you glanced over your shoulder at him, visibly trying not to laugh. âmy love.â
âdonât.â
âyouâre making the face again.â
âwhat face, pray tell?â
âthe one where you realize your daughter inherited all my habits.â
âsheâs dramatic.â
âyou think iâm dramatic too.â
âbecause you are.â
before you could argue, sukumi suddenly turned toward him instead, tiny hands still hidden inside her sleeves âdada, dada.â she mumbled.
sukunaâs expression softened immediately despite himself. âwhat, kumibear? what do you need from dada?â
âwarm, kumi...kumi want warm.â
goodness gracious.
he was doomed.
completely doomed.
because now she was looking at him with the exact same expression you used whenever asking him to warm your hands. same hopeful eyes. same tiny pout. same complete trust that he would take care of it. sukuna exhaled slowly through his nose before crouching in front of her.
âcâmere, kumibear.â
sukumi toddled forward instantly. and before even touching her, sukuna rubbed his palms together first. almost as if she just knew fully well that this was the best thing she can do to put herself at ease, almost so instinctive that she curls intp his warmth immediately.
he does same thing heâd been doing for years. he puts his warm touch on hers. you watched quietly from nearby while he carefully took sukumiâs tiny hands between his own warm ones.
the second the warmth reached her fingers, sukumi visibly brightened. her little shoulders relaxed. her eyes widened slightly in relief. then she smiled so big, so comfortably.
and sukuna genuinely thought his heart stopped. because it was your smile. exactly your smile. when gratitude was shared, when good moments were experienced, when love was wholeheartedly given without any boundaries. this was you. all that he had loved of you, in your daughter's smile.
âwarm, dada.â sukumi whispered happily before immediately pressing his hands closer against her cheeks. "kumi loves."
you made a tiny strangled sound beside him, clearly trying not to laugh at his expression. sukuna glanced up at you flatly. âdonât start.â
âyou look emotional.â
âiâm not emotional.â
âyou absolutely are.â
because he was.
he really was.
he couldn't help it.
this was everything.
all he wanted then, as a kid.
he had it now, with you.
sukuna looked back down at sukumi happily holding his hands against her face while leaning trustingly into his warmth, and suddenly he was struck with the overwhelming realization that this was his life now.
you. your daughter. these cold hands every winter morning. the tiny domestic moments that somehow felt bigger than anything else. and worst of all, he loved it to bits. he loved all of it so much it honestly made him feel sick sometimes.
you moved beside him then, resting your chin lightly on his shoulder while sukumi continued clinging to his hands. âlook at her, my love.â you whispered fondly. âshe does the same face i do.â
âyeah, she does.â sukuna muttered quietly, unable to stop staring at her. âi noticed.â
you smiled knowingly. because you understood exactly what was happening to him. years ago, sixteen-year-old sukuna had nearly combusted over you holding his warmed hands in a cold gym after volleyball practice.
now he sat on the kitchen floor with your daughter clinging to his palms the exact same way while you leaned affectionately against his shoulder, and somehow he was even more hopelessly in love than before.
"does kumibear want hot cocoa too? like mama?"
sukumi nodded against him. "cocoa, papa."
"that sounds wonderful." you whispered, pressing a kiss on his shoulder.
Beach day
There is a very specific, highly entertaining phenomenon that occurs whenever you take your husband out in public. You like to call it the âTerror and Thirstâ effect.
Today, at the crowded public beach, it is in full swing.
You are currently lounging under the massive shade of a navy blue beach umbrella, a trashy romance novel resting on your lap, watching the spectacle unfold at the shoreline.
Ryomen Sukuna is, objectively, a masterpiece of a man. Standing at a towering 6â4â, he is built like a heavyweight championâbroad shoulders, a thick chest, and a torso carved out of solid granite. Heâs wearing nothing but a pair of low-slung, black board shorts that sit dangerously low on his hips, putting the intricate, sprawling black tattoos that cover his chest, arms, and stomach on full, glorious display.
He is hot as fuck. Itâs a fact that is currently not lost on the group of college girls sitting on a blanket about twenty yards away. They havenât stopped staring, whispering behind their hands, and aggressively adjusting their bikini tops for the last half hour.
But here is the catch: Sukuna is also terrifying.
He has this natural, resting aura of absolute disdain for anyone who isnât you or your son. Heâs a snob, plain and simple. He doesnât smile at strangers, he doesnât make polite small talk, and if someone stares at him for too long, he gives them a dead-eyed, chilling glare that practically drops the surrounding temperature by ten degrees.
Case in point: one of the girls giggles a little too loudly, pointing in his direction. Sukuna, who is currently standing ankle-deep in the surf, slowly turns his head. He doesnât say a word. He just narrows his crimson eyes, his face completely blank, and stares her down.
The girl visibly pales, her hand dropping instantly. She quickly turns around, suddenly very interested in the contents of her cooler.
Sukuna lets out a quiet, dismissive scoff, turning his attention back to the water.
âYouâre going to give those poor girls a complex, babe,â you call out, unable to hide your amusement.
Sukuna looks over his shoulder at you, and the transformation is instantaneous. The cold, intimidating mask melts away, replaced by an expression so incredibly soft and devoted it makes your chest ache. The corners of his mouth twitch up into a small, fond smile.
âNot my problem that they are annoying,â he says, his voice carrying easily over the sound of the crashing waves. âBesides, I only want one woman looking at me.â
You roll your eyes, though your cheeks heat up. âSmooth, Ryomen. Very smooth.â
âDada! Splash!â
A tiny, high-pitched voice interrupts the moment. Yuji, currently sporting a pair of tiny black swim trunks that perfectly match his dadâs, is waddling furiously through the shallow water. Heâs got a pair of bright orange floaties strapped to his chubby arms, his pink hair plastered to his forehead from the ocean spray.
Sukunaâs attention snaps to his son. He doesnât say anything, just calmly wades deeper into the water, his massive hands reaching down to scoop the toddler up under the armpits.
âYou want to splash, little man?â Sukuna asks quietly, his tone a low, soothing rumble.
âYeah! Big splash!â Yuji cheers, kicking his little legs.
You watch, completely mesmerized, as your terrifying, snobbish husband hoists your two-year-old high into the air. Sukuna tosses him upâjust high enough to make Yuji squeal with delightâand catches him effortlessly, dipping him down so his little toes drag through the water.
Itâs a beautiful, chaotic contrast. The giant, tattooed wall of muscle, gently playing in the waves with a giggling, chubby-cheeked toddler.
They play in the water for another twenty minutes. Sukuna is quiet, mostly just listening to Yuji babble about the âbig fishesâ and the âsalty water,â occasionally offering a calm nod or a soft chuckle. He is completely in his element, entirely unbothered by the rest of the world.
Eventually, Sukuna wades out of the water, carrying Yuji on his hip. Water is dripping from Sukunaâs pink hair, running down the hard planes of his chest and tracing the lines of his tattoos. It is a sight that should be illegal.
He walks over to the umbrella, grabbing a towel with his free hand and tossing it over his shoulder. He sets Yuji down on the sand.
âGo to mama, buddy. Let her dry you off,â Sukuna murmurs, running a hand through his wet hair.
But Yuji has other plans.
He shakes himself off like a wet puppy, sending droplets of water flying everywhere. He takes two steps toward you, stops, and then his head snaps to the left.
You follow his gaze. A new group of girlsâthree of them, looking like they just stepped out of a swimsuit catalogâhave set up their chairs near the shoreline.
âOh, for fuckâs sake,â you mutter, dropping your book. âNot again.â
Yujiâs eyes go wide. He completely ignores you, turning on his heel and marching straight toward the girls. His little chest is puffed out, his arms swinging with an unearned amount of swagger for a kid who still wears pull-ups at night.
âSukuna,â you warn, pointing at your son. âStop him.â
Sukuna doesnât move. He just stands there, drying his chest with the towel, watching Yuji with a quiet, amused smirk. âWhy? Heâs on a mission.â
âHe is two! He is literally a baby!â you hiss, standing up. âWhy does he act like a frat boy on spring break?â
âSon't ask me,â Sukuna replies, clearly avoiding your eyes, he took a sip from the bottle of water. He doesn't say it, but you can hear the lingering amusement in his voicd. âLet the boy have fun, babe.â
You groan, watching helplessly as Yuji reaches the girls.
He stops right in front of their beach chairs. He puts his chubby little hands on his hips, tilts his head, and unleashes the weapon: your bright, disarming smile.
âHi!â Yuji chirps loudly. âI Yuji!â
The girls immediately stop talking. They look down at the tiny, pink-haired toddler, and the collective swoon is almost audible.
âOh my god, hi!â one of them coos, leaning forward. âArenât you just the cutest thing ever?â
âPweety,â Yuji says, pointing a tiny finger at the girlâs sparkly bikini top. He then flexes his little arm, showing off a completely non-existent bicep. âLook! Strong like dada!â
âI canât believe this,â you whisper, burying your face in your hands. Sukuna lets out a low, quiet chuckle next to you.
âYou are a terrible influence,â you glare at him.
âBabe, I didnât do anything,â Sukuna says, his voice completely deadpan, though his eyes are dancing with mirth. âIâm just standing here.â
Down by the water, the girls are eating it up. They are giggling, offering Yuji a plastic beach toy, which he graciously accepts. But then, one of the girls looks up. Her eyes scan the beach, looking for the parents, and she spots Sukuna.
You can practically see the cartoon hearts pop out of her eyes.
She stands up, brushing sand off her legs, and walks over to Yuji, taking his little hand. âCome on, sweetie. Letâs go find your dad.â
She leads Yuji back toward your umbrella, her eyes locked entirely on Sukuna. She has that lookâthe look of a woman who thinks sheâs about to shoot her shot with a single dad.
âExcuse me,â the girl says, her voice dropping into a sultry purr as she approaches. She completely ignores you, standing right in front of Sukuna. âIs this little guy yours? He wandered over to us.â
Sukuna stops drying his hair. His smilr vanishes, instantly replaced by that cold snobbery. He looks down at the girl, his expression completely blank, his eyes devoid of any warmth.
He doesnât say a word to her.
Instead, he steps forward, completely invading her personal space with his massive frame, forcing her to take a nervous step back. He reaches down and scoops Yuji up into his arms.
âDada! Pweety girl!â Yuji babbles, pointing at the woman.
Sukuna looks at the girl for one more second. Itâs a look that clearly says, You are entirely beneath my notice.
âThanks,â Sukuna says. His voice is quiet, but it carries a heavy, chilling finality that makes the girl flinch. âCome here buddy lets go to mamaâ
He turns his back on her without another word, walking the two steps over to you. The girl stands there for a second, her face flushed bright red with embarrassment, before she quickly turns and scurries back to her friends.
You are trying very hard not to laugh. âYou didnât have to be so mean to her.â
âI wasnât,â Sukuna scoffs, setting Yuji down on your beach chair. âI just didnât care to speak to her.â
âShe was totally hitting on you.â
Sukuna finally looks at you, and the ice in his eyes melts completely. He steps into your space, his large hands coming up to cup your face. His thumbs gently stroke your cheekbones.
âWhatever,â he murmurs, his voice dropping to a soft, intimate register. âI'm marriedâ
Your breath hitches, your heart doing a familiar, stupid little flip in your chest. Even after all these years, he still knows exactly how to render you speechless.
âYouâre such a sap,â you whisper, leaning into his touch.
âOnly for my wife,â he replies, leaning down to press a slow, deep kiss to your lips. Itâs a possessive kiss, one that clearly communicates to anyone watching exactly who he belongs to.
When he pulls away, he rests his forehead against yours, a small smile playing on his lips.
âMama!â
You both look down. Yuji is standing on the beach chair, holding up a slightly crushed, sandy seashell. He shoves it toward you, his big golden eyes shining.
âFor mama!â Yuji announces proudly. âMama pweetiest!â
You melt. You absolutely melt. You take the sandy shell, pulling Yuji into a tight hug and kissing his salty, sun-warmed cheek. âThank you, baby. Itâs beautiful.â
Sukuna watches the two of you, his hands resting casually on his hips. âSee?â Sukuna says quietly, reaching out to ruffle Yujiâs pink hair. âThe kid might have my charm, but he knows the truth.â
At the end of the day, despite the playboy genes and the endless chaos, they were yours. And you were theirs.
And mom was, undeniably, still the best.
an: we're close to 1k what the hekk!!! what one shots do you wanna see next? i can't write smut for the life of me, english is saurrrr hard!! divider by: @pxrce-lain | the art and gif i got from pinterest! feel free to comment who is the orig art creator pls đ
I'm literally a sucker for dad!sukuna đ
your anonymous boyfriend is the guy you yap to him about!
a/n: ive been distracted lately sorry for being away đ
cw: oblivious reader, characters catches up easily, no mahito
ft. itadori yuji, megumi fushiguro, yuta okkotsu, toge inumaki, satoru gojo, toji fushiguro, kento nanami, suguru geto, sukuna ryomen, choso kamo, and hiromi higuruma.
satoru gojo
apocalypse - masterlist
undergroundboxer!kuna x reader [soulmate au]
series synopsis - in a world where soulmates were real, fate ties you to ryomen sukuna like some cruel and twisted joke. where people felt their soulmates in soft touches and quiet comfort, all youâve ever known was phantom pain, sleepless nights, and a violent rage that didnât belong to you. by the time you finally meet the man ruining your nervous system, the city already knew him as its most feared underground boxer. how would you survive? [mdni 18+]
chapters
âĄïž â.Ë prologue
âĄïž â.Ë one - coming soon
âĄïž â.Ë two - tbd
âĄïž â.Ë three - tbd
âĄïž â.Ë four - tbd
âĄïž â.Ë five - tbd
âĄïž â.Ë six - tbd
i havenât decided if thereâs going to be a taglist, iâll let you know if there is one!

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you find out best friend!gojo likes you from his mii (sfw)
warnings: tomodachi life i guess idk.... and my first time writing something that didn't turn to smut or angst lmao
"Oh my god," you look over to your frosty haired best friend, his cheeks singed a light pink. "I'm wearing the dress I had on last week." Your own cheeks warm in the process, as it usually does when you remember that Gojo tends to memorize everything about you.Â
You're sitting on his couch, feet (stuffed into a pair of his socks) tucked under your legs. Gojo sits next to you, his body close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating off of him. His hands are circled around the controllers of his switch, the tv showing the little island he ditched you this week to make. A mini cartoon like version of you; everything from the hair color, hairstyle, the dimples that kiss into your cheeks, is running around his island. You're in awe of his eye of detail.Â
He scoots closer to you, his leg touching yours. "I just looked back at that picture we took together," he responds, his usual voice that is always littered with laugher and jokes is slightly mild and calm. His blue eyes glued to the screen, his thumbs slowly moving the cursor around to take him around his utopia of an island.Â
This version of his life shares so much with yours. A mii version of Geto reads on a green bench in a garden and you smile remembering you saw him do this exact thing last week in the quad. Copies of Shoko and Nanami chase each other on the beach, laughter bubbles hanging above their overgrown heads. You cant help but smile, a giggle slipping from your lips at the sweetness of this world he is choosing to share with you.Â
"'Toru," you mumble, still staring at the screen as he tends to a fighting Choso and a baby Yuji arguing over a box of tissue. The cursor swipes quickly away from the miniature Gojo standing near his two islanders throw things at each other, dust and random particles like a chair thrown in their little circle. You hold back a loud laugh, picturing the real life brother pair fighting over something as small as the remote before Choso caves in. You wonder if that's going to happen here.Â
You can't help but notice the blushing state that mii version Gojo is in. His hands behind his back as he stares at someone behind the fight, a bubble that matches the pink on his cheeks dresses his white head. "What is that pink speech bubble above your head?"Â
He moves away from the crowd forming where his mii looks off helpless in love. "Nothing," he does not look back at you, even with your eyes glued to the side of his face at the moment. "Want to watch me put Suguru on the seesaw by himself?"
As much as you want to, you don't give him the satisfaction of evading your question. Your eyebrows raising and a teasing grin gracing your lips. "You're the only one with it," you scoot closer to him, your knee basically on top of his stiff thigh. "Cmon, show me."
"It's a game," you're itching to hear the joke that you know he wants to let out. A laugh track to follow behind the silliness that's on his island and making you smile. Instead, he coughs back a fake cough, the cursor quickly looking for Suguru's mii.Â
"That you ditched me for," you remind, eyes bouncing from the screen to his tomato red face and his movements on the screen. Tilting your head, you swallow back another retort, just watching his odd body language.
He does a quick side glance at you, eyes focused on the smile on your plump lips. He wonders if he could ever have the mii actually replicate that smile. The one that makes his palms all sweaty when he finds you aimlessly sending it towards him. "Nanami is my friend here."
"Great reason to skip out on our best friend dinner on Friday," you roll your eyes, hitting his shoulder. Your palm warming his already hot shoulder like a kiss in the winter. "Show me, Satoru Gojo," voice playfully demanding.Â
He turns to you, staring at your face for a second too long. Butterflies erupting in your stomach as his cerulean eyes rakes over the bridge of your nose and the lashes kissing the apples of your cheeks. He sighs, more to himself, before he turns to the screen moving the cursor to find his twin â mii Gojo laying on the beach, his eyes closed and a huge smile on his lips. That pink bubble still bouncing near his head.Â
He reluctantly clicks it.Â
A squeaky voice that automatically makes you start laughing breaks into the room, your name name rolling from mii Gojo's huge grin:
"I want to ask her out. What should I do?"
His blushing mii matching his blushing face next to you.Â
Options pop up on the corner, waititng for Gojo to choose what will work best for the mii versions of you.Â
And at the moment, you can't help but finally notice your best friend. His keen eye of detail for you, his blushing cheeks whenever you so much as rub against his arm, and the way your stomach drops whenever he looks at you when making you laugh.Â
He stares ahead, a hand scratching the back of his neck that's now dressed in a red hue as well. All you can do is smile, wide and big. "I wouldn't say no," finally breaking the silence, voice soft and gentle. "Ask me out."
"Are you speaking for Purple Hollow you or," he looks over at you, snowy eyebrows raised so high they're almost touching his hairline. "You?"
"Both, I will like to think that you made sure Purple Hollow me has taste."
© all writing belongs to @macbethinchains. characters belong to gege akutami. do not plagiarize, repost, translate, or feed my writing into ai
This was so cute i wanna eat him đ
NJA update + rant + whoever the fuck this person is
i get that the timing of it all has you questioning things, but multiple writers have deactivated and many have also lost interest in writing within that time frame. for me, I announced i was taking a step back from writing for jjk for a bit, while staying to write for another fandom because itâs much more enjoyable at the moment. shortly after making the post, i just decided to get rid of nja because even just a simple notification from it annoyed me. i think it makes enough sense that i decided to delete the ONLY fic on tumblr that has managed to make my experience on here negative.
it wasnât just the chat bots either, it was my overall experience with the amount of unwanted opinions i received and the constant harassment for updates in my inbox. i literally canât even JOKE about it without having to take time out of my day having to explain that im not behind a blog that had led to anons sending literal death threats to some of the writers on here.
iâve avoided talking about that blog this entire time because it wouldâve just added to the number of growing anons, but youâve made it pretty fucking impossible and itâs all because you didnât like seeing me making jokes over a fic?? btw that was me trying to make the most out of being sad about having someone strip the life out of my work, all because they wanted to consume more of it.
you say you understand, but youâre complaining about me to different gossip blogs MONTHS after itâs happened and then accusing me of being behind one. genuinely what the fuck is wrong with you??
hereâs literally the only fucking proof i have. i left it on ao3 btw bc i still felt guilty and figured itâd be fine since I donât get that many notifications on there anyway. not for long tho bc im about to go make that *magically* disappear now too.
for the accusation, i am not tojioffline nor do i have anything to do with that account. running an account meant to expose other writers requires a good amount of resentment towards the writing community on here and i donât have that. i donât even like answering asks that could possibly lead to discourse in my inbox.
with that being said, yes nja is off tumblr and it will ABSOLUTELY get taken off ao3. im sick and tired of seeing it, hearing it, and answering questions over it. the fact that thereâs someone that STILL goes to my page to look for it, even after clearly having resentment towards something i did months back, is fucking mind boggling to me. let it GO.
I feel like people in fandoms are forgetting that these people are writing for FREE. They're updating chapters and fanfics for FREE. they're taking time out of their day, already stressed with work, Uni, school or whatever, and do this for FREE. They're responding tp your asks and even updating for you for FREE.
I get being excited for a new chapter of a fic or disappointed when you see it got discontinued or even deleted, but it being such a big non-issue and being so disrespectful to writers and accusing them of shit is crazy. This isn't the first time it has happened in the JJK fandom and i've seen this happen in the enhypen fandom as well. People are leaving to de-activate their accounts bc some of you are truly disrespectful and think you have the right for every thing just because you enjoyed reading their stories.
Again, this is an observation I made through 2 fandoms alrwady and many good and AMAZING authors leaving because they are being accused of using AI or other stuff. I still don't know everything about this very situation, but I felt the need to say this bc I also used to write and at some point just stopped because I didn't feel like it anymore. You guys are literally robbing writers off of their excitememt, their energy and motivation to write by acting entitled and forgetting that this is a PERSON you are talking about. It's so disrespectful and freaking childish.
the baby project â park jongseong
in which you and jay are forced to take care of a fake baby for a week.
pairing: football player!jay x fem!reader
wc: 19.4k
cw: high school au, strangers to friends to lovers, forced proximity, themes of academic stress/pressure, a tiny bit of jealousy once, one kiss, mentions of multiple idols, reader is implied to be a year younger than jay, rivals to ?? (secondary characters), friendship dynamics, strong language.
warnings: none, it's all fluff!
a/n: happy jay day! i can't believe he's turning 24, time flies! <3 so, as a gift, i wanted to write a little (or not so little) something for you. i had so much fun writing this, so i hope you'll enjoy it as much as i did!
the bell had barely stopped ringing when ms. choi clapped her hands twice, the sound sharp enough to cut through the usual friday afternoon chatter.
âalright, everyone settle down. this is for both juniors and seniors today. phones away.â
you slide a little lower in your seat, already sensing something painful is about to happen. the shared class period with the seniors had always been a mixed bag â sometimes interesting, sometimes just loud. but today it feels different, almost⊠dangerous.
ms. choi smiles like she's about to hand out candy, and that's when you know. something big is coming. she may fool others with that sweet smile, but you know better than that.
every time she uses that smile, every time she has that glimpse in her eyes⊠it means trouble. she's known not only for being a great teacher, but also for her love for âlife skillsâ projects. she always does one. she has done one ever since you started high school. every. single. year.
you can just cross your fingers and hope for the best.
Masterlist
Just a girl who loves fictional characters
Jujutsu Kaisen
Satoru Gojo: - throughout heaven and earth, I alone am the honored one - "You were the only thing I couldnât let go of" Satoru Gojo as Taylor Swift songs: - don't blame me - âDonât blame me,â he whispers. âYou knew what loving me meant.â - tolerate it - "You were never losing anything,â you said quietly. "You never had me." - snow on the beach - "Youâre waiting for something,â he said finally. "For snow" - daylight - "But you werenât burning red." "You were golden. Like daylight."
Megumi Fushiguro - i am not fushiguro anymore, took my clans name: - Megumi Fushiguro had completely erased you. - A Cage of Gold, A Crown of Ash - "I was curious about the woman who sold her father's clan to play dress-up in the Zen'in estate. You seemed perfectly happy in there."
As Taylor Swift songs: - mastermind - "you knew the entire time"."and now you're mine"
Suguru Geto as Taylor Swift songs: - my tears ricochet - " It was the most beautiful stone you would ever gather. The diamond ring of your blue spring.
Ryomen Sukuna/ Yuji Itadori: - Ink and Ash - "I could keep you here," Sukuna whispered, the promise dripping with dark, venomous obsession. "I could drown you in that sea of blood until you forget what the sun looks like. I could tear your fragile mind apart piece by piece, until the only thing you know how to do is beg for my touch. I could make you my perfect, broken little queen on this throne of ash."
Hiromi Higuruma as Taylor Swift songs: - you're losing me - "My heart just won't start for you anymore. You just finally bothered to check."
dividers by: @pixopix
I really miss those old avengers tower fics
1. Clint in the vents
2. Bruce and Tony in the lab... science bros
3. Cap being accused and called out by his team ... either it's the "language" or "I understood that reference"
4. Loki for some reason being imprisoned in the tower by Odin to learn humanity blah blah
5. Thor and his poptarts
6. Natasha and wanda being the bestie
7. Reader either dating Loki or Bucky
8. Fury calling out reader initially as a threat as they were an orphan who was a lineage of witches type of trope. OR reader is Tony's kid.
9. Bucky randomly becoming besties with Sam and them having their own fights.
10. Peter and Shuri becoming besties with reader
11. Maria, pepper, wanda, Natasha and reader having sleepovers.
12. Tony having a party every time after a mission. Everyone ends up trying to lift thor's hammer and reader turns out to be worthy.
13. Loki teaching reader how to use magic.
And the list goes on....
You just opened up memories I forgot I had....wattpad was the best place to read these fics i MISSSS IT đđ

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can sigma-chi teach nerdjo how to steal your heart ?
PLAYBOY TACTICS #1: GET YOUR MONEY UP !
taught by: toji zenin
âtrying to win y/n over with only a hundred bucks to your name? yeah try again friend.â
â-â
toji zenin is black coffee breath, borrowed birkenstocks & a bank account filled with student loan refunds. but when he opens toruâs scotiabank account & finds it filled with less than a thousand dollars, his lips contort in disgust.
âno funds, no game, no bitches,â toji clicks his tongue. âyou just a bum.â
âdonât you have a baby mama and kid you can barely support?â
âsilence.â
toru gojo has messy blanche hair & candy pink nose & acid pooling in the jugular. tonight heâs got a date with the girl he swears is the love of his life & the pressure pokes at him like a cracked rib.
toji leans heavy on toruâs sheets. âiâm gonna ignore that comment. letâs focus on how youâre a gojo and have only a hundred bucks in your chequing account.â
toruâs cheeks flush. âi keep my money in my savingsâŠtheyâre for textbooks.â
he doesnât mention how every penny thatâs not in his savings ends up in satoâs betting app. damn yumeko jabami wannabe-ass twin.
but toji doesnât question it, so he doesnât tell. instead he tosses the cell back at toru, arms crossed behind his head as he makes himself comfortable on his bed,
âtextbooks donât get you laid, friend. listen,â toji licks his canines. âiâm gonna give you three simple rules. follow âem or get dumped.â
RULE #1 : NONCHALANCE. ALWAYS.
L O S I N G S T R E A K !
âż. 001. â Girl From Nowhere â
synopsis: getting through high school (or life in general) was one thing, but saving you from yourself would always be more important to megumi fushiguro..
tags/warnings: fem!reader, acts and threats of violence, narcissistic parents (?), megumi fushiguro is implied to have a crush on you haha, baseball player!megumi, anger issues, implied SH if you squint, scene half based off of whc 1 ep.1 (?), [Name] is kinda scary, [Name] is Yeon Si Eun but angrier, kinda cringe, not proofread
‷ previous part. | next part.
[Name] [L/N] was not one to be dealt with.
You were the person that people would play rock-paper-scissors to get out of talking to. You were the person that people would make bets on during fights like you were their entertainment. You were the person that people would shuffle away from when you walked down the halls.
If it were up to you, would you willingly take venomous snake into your hand, knowing it could take a bite out of you at any moment?
Cause the answer is no. No you wouldnât.
The whispers surrounding you filled the gaps you left behind. Everyone knew the story of the girl whose patience ran thin during an argument with a boy at school, violence overshadowing all her morals before she could even think. The whole world blurred together, and before you knew it, the boy could barely even breathe.
âSay that bullshit again. The same way you said it to him.â
Your legs bracketed the boyâs waist, knuckles split open, your white uniform stained with the remains of your act of savagery. Sweat dripped down your temple as you heaved.
Everyone stood to watch the first year beat up the third year. Would it even still be called âbeating upâ at this point? The kid was barely moving, the only visible movement of his body being the slight twitch of his fingers.
A first year, had almost bashed a third yearâs head in with her bare fists for saying something about Yujiâs parents.
It didnât help that Yuji showed up to your house crying. Yuji almost never cried, so the moment he came to you with tear streaked cheeks? You only had one goal, and you wouldnât stop until he was groveling at your feet.
Yuji stood off to the side. No matter how badly the person deserved it, he didnât like seeing you hurt, especially if you were fighting someone for him. He always felt the pang of guilt in his chest whenever heâd find you at the nurses office.
You never spoke to Yuji again. 16 years of friendship thrown away for something you did for him. You avoided him at every turn. You didnât even look him in the eye.
It wasnât like he blamed you. He wouldnât speak to you ever again if you saw him almost kill somebody.
He would only wait for your return, an apology for ghosting him not even crossing his mind. All he wanted was to get his best friend back.
No one dared to test you after that.
That uncontrollable violence was dangerous, it was something that never shouldâve fallen into your hands. Cause sometimes, even your greatest weapon will turn against you to come back and bite you in the ass. Even the tiniest slip up could cost you your life.
You could be chopping vegetables in the kitchen one second, and the knife through your hand cause you dropped something onto the floor the next.
You couldnât see where your anger began and where it ended. It just kept going.
What was supposed to be home, only turned into your own personal hell, perfectly crafted and curated to torture you for the rest of eternity.
âKids look good for the mediaâ they said.
Especially if they were academically gifted.
Imagine the pure disappointment on your motherâs face when she found out you were getting into fights.
The same eerie silence lingered at the dinner table on the rare nights they werenât out on business trips. Instead of being asked âhow was your day?â, all you ever got was a lifetime supply of hatred and dissatisfaction.
Your parents never said they hated you, but it practically radiated off of them every single night.
Even at six years old, you werenât stupid. You heard their whispers through the cracks of their bedroom door. Words theyâd never repeat in front of you.
They were too scared to.
âSheâs too mentally unstableâŠâ
So thatâs exactly what you were going to be.
You sat in the back corner of the classroom. No one dared to even lay a finger on the seat beside you, not like you were complaining anyways.
Your classmates would always sneak glances at you nervously, like you were planning something. Any other sound fell deaf to their ears whenever you did something as simple as clicking your pen, twisting and morphing into something akin to the ticking of a bomb.
They all anticipated blood soaked uniforms and black eyes, and instead they were met with an eye roll as you left the room. The room let out the breath it was holding, everyone sighing in relief that they survived another day.
They stopped paying attention soon after. Maybe they thought if they ignored you, their fear of you would go away, and they would never have to deal with you ever again.
The ghost of class 3-1. A vengeful spirit.
But Megumi Fushiguro didnât believe in the paranormal. He even thought that stuff news outlets were saying about whatever hot topic of that week was a hoax. He didnât believe anything until he saw it with his own eyes.
And now? All he saw was the girl who shut out the world cause it had done her wrong. He didnât know you at all, but at times he felt like he would be the only one who would understand.
âFushiguro. Youâre staring again.â
The fact that Yuji was paying more attention to the fact that his current best friend was staring at his former best friend than studying for their university admission test was concerning.
Megumiâs chin almost slipped from his palm where it was propped up. Yuji expected a sharp comeback from him, but all that that came from him was what he always said when he didnât want continue the conversation any further.
âJust shut up and take your notes.â
Yuji Itadori glanced down at the blank page of his notebook, awkwardly sliding it off the desk so Megumi couldnât see that he had been watching him like a hawk for the entirety of the study period.
Thwack!
Everyone looked up from their desks to find the source of the noise that drew all their attention in. The loud noise was followed by a hiss of pain. They knew that sound all too well, and people immediately started shifting in their seats uncomfortably.
You clutched your face, soft fingers brushing the spot where you had been hit. That was definitely going to leave a bruise. But you couldnât even focus on that. Your anger had tipped over, and it felt as if your body was on autopilot.
âDo you have a death wish?â
âNo-â
Before you could hear his answer, you grabbed the thick textbook you had been hit with off of the floor, flinging it back to the person who had accidentally hit you in the face. It struck him in the nose, the blood rushing from his nose almost immediately.
You pushed your chair back, the sounds of the metal legs scarping against the floor harshly as you shoved your desk forward to get up.
You grabbed him by his collar, yanking him out of his seat and sent him crashing into another set of desks. He groaned in pain as you sent him another sharp kick to the ribs.
You crouched down next to your classmate. You didnât even break a sweat from the exchange. You raised a fist, and the whole room froze. Everyone waited for that sickening crunch, the sound of his nose breaking.
But that never came.
You sighed, already recognizing the silhouette of a shadow looming over you and the face you were about to bash in. You didnât fight the tight grip on your wrist, only letting it hang there in the air lazily.
â[Name]. Thatâs enough. Let him go.â Yuji mumbled. He nudged you by the foot, coaxing you to get up from the ground. It was like trying to convince a shark not to eat another just because it was injured.
You couldâve easily yanked your arm away to beat the already injured boy up more, and head straight for Yuji right after.
But you didnât.
Everyone watched as the girl who would go to any lengths to beat up someone senseless if they wronged her, actually hesitating.
Despite being a raging psychopath at times (most of the time), there was a part of you deep down that would always be soft and sympathetic, and Yuji handled that part of you as if it was made of glass. That kind counterpart of you was slowly shattering under all the anger, so heâd get any chance to pull it back out from the depths of hell.
This was the first time you two had spoken (well- he was doing the speaking, but it was the same thing) in what, two years?
But the dynamic was still the same. Heâd tell you to stop in a fight, and youâd actually listen.
He slowly let go of your wrist, and you just let it fall to your side. You shook your head, stepping over the boyâs limp body to reach your desk. You slung your bag over your shoulder, and walked out the classroom with quiet steps. These steps carried weight.
The weight of guilt, maybe.
â[Name], you canât keep hurting people. You could really injure somebody one day.â A twelve-year-old Yuji scolded, flicking you in the forehead.
âBitch-â You winced. âYou literally get into fights with bullies every day.â
Talk about the pot calling the kettle black.
âItâs different!â He argued, slapping a bandaid a bit too hard onto your face. âIâm not fighting anybody who points out-â
âOne, itâs none of their business. Two, itâs summer, Yuji. I think I have the right to wear what I want and not overheat under the sun?â
âFine, whateverâŠâ
You blinked. Memories of those times were always fuzzy. You always felt like there was somebody else with the two of you, but your brain was blocking that part of your childhood out. You had been noticing it more recently than you ever had before.
The room was still a mess when you left.
Megumi sat quietly at his desk, head hung low, dark hair in his face. Despite denying all of Yujiâs claims, Megumi found that no matter how hard he tried, his eyes would always find yours again.
It kept happening, again and again.
During lunch, in the classroom, even on the way home after school. No matter how hard he tried to look away, he was always drawn back to you.
The first time it happened, he was in the hallway, listening to Yuji and Nobara ramble on about some teacher that was bothering them. He noticed you by your head of [H/C] hair before you even walked by. Your gaze flickering towards his face for a brief second before quickly looking away again.
He furrowed his brows at the micro interaction.
[Name] [L/N] did not spare glances.
But maybe for once in his life, he was the sole exception.
Megumi huffed a sigh of content, resting his cheek against the window even though he knew heâd end up slamming his head against the glass sooner or later. Baseball practice was a pain in the ass today, so he was just happy to get out of there after hours of training.
He blinked tiredly. He would have to get home and get all his homework done if he wanted to get enough sleep, especially since he would have to get up bright and early to visit his older sister at the hospital before school the next morning.
He glanced up again, spotting a familiar face stepping onto his bus. He hated when he saw people from he knew outside school. It would always end in awkward small talk, and Megumi Fushiguro did not do small talk. Except this time,
It was you.
What the hell were you still doing near the school this late? Sure, he couldnât exactly talk, but at least he had a valid reason to. (not that he was saying you didnât) You left during their study period, so why were you still here after hours?
Un(fortunately) for you, there was only one seat left, and you really werenât in the mood to stand in the tight aisles.
And that one seat was beside Megumi Fushiguro himself.
He didnât know it, but you were fully aware of who he was. When you spend your high school years either studying alone or beating up people who gossiped too loudly, you end up having a lot of spare time to analyze the people around you.
You noticed how his eyes would follow you when you moved. Even when he wasnât in the room, you always swore you could feel his gaze burning through the back of your head. Creepy.
Megumiâs neck flushed as you sank down into the seat beside him. It always irked him the wrong way when people would get in his personal space, which would often earn the other person a curse under his breath or a scoff.
He was literally malfunctioning internally from how close you were sitting without you realizing. Why were you sitting so goddamn close?
The bus ride was agonizing for him. He tried his best not to move around much to ensure that you were comfortable (and that his bones were still in tact) He watched as the world outside morphed into a blur of colours, street lights blinding him every so often. It was calm in a way he couldnât explain.
Wow. Calm and Megumi in the same sentence. It was rare for him, considering he was friends with Nobara Kugisaki and Yuji Itadori of all people. They needed someone to keep them in check anyways.
When he thought he was finally at peace, the worst thing imaginable happened to him.
Your head plopped down onto his shoulder, the sound of your steady breaths reaching his ear instantly, signaling that you had fallen asleep. He glanced down to study your features, not like he hadnât already, but he never was this close. Anybody who got within 2 feet radius of you was prone to at least one punch to the face.
Now? You were in direct contact with him, cheek pressed against his shoulder with no care for the world. This may have just been the first instance where he had see you not glaring at the world.
Your head snapped back up as quickly as it went down. You blinked, patting yourself on the face several times.
âSorry..â You muttered softly, staring at him with your dead eyes.
âI-itâs.. okay.â He fumbled his words. Goddamit Megumi.
You averted your gaze.
You never got too close with anybody. All youâre going to do in the end is let them down, like Yuji and your parents. One by one, each person would be picked off from the list of people who had the guts to talk to you, until there would be no one left.
Anyone who even dared to speak with you would end up getting hurt. You were the single rose standing in the middle of a thorn bush- no, thorn field.
It didnât matter if it was emotionally or physically.
They would still get hurt.
a/n: megumi when he has to play the sport he literally signed up for đ
I cringed writing this Iâm crine where did sunshine!reader go who is this angry ass bitch bring my baby back
AGAIN!! EVERYTHING I WRITE IS FROM EXPERIENCE!! IF ANYTHING IS INACCURATE, PLEASE TELL ME!! IT MAY HAVE SEEMED ACCURATE TO MY SITUATION, BUT IF ANYTHING ISNâT, PLEASE TELL ME SO I CAN FIX IT!! (pls say it kindly tho, i still hv feelings :( )
©lvrs4nxna â all rights reserved. Do not republish, translate, steal, or feed my work to AI.
permanent tag list: @dreamydaredevil @sugerfilled @lookacat @i-smell-sharpies @valeriestulips @shhhhhhxoxo125 @xombied @i-liketoast @asthmaticasma @chosoissohotugh @luvstringa @balladofjaynedoe @vivimsical @whatintheducks @mysizzlingsteak @chuuyan4kahara @mu5r000m @kittyguumi @megssleepygirl @beninn @mocassora @meowieees
divider creds: @uzmacchiato
I'm so excited to read this !!
the parenting project pt 1/4
pairing: peter x fem!reader
summary: you and peter are paired up for a school assignment. 50% of your grade depends on your ability to co-parent a fake baby with Peter. the problem is, you have a slight(ly extreme) hatred of peter who is not only madly oblivious of that, but also madly in love with you.
themes for part 1: light angst, tiny bit of fluff, enemies to lovers, except peter never really views you as an enemy
warnings: suggestive themes
word count: 6k
a/n: timeline is a bit off, i wrote that peter got his powers in junior year and you both are in senior year. also y/n is written a bit more complex than my usual, so please be mindful that while she comes off as unfairly rude to peter, sheâs aware itâs unfair and will continuously make the conscious effort to improve <3
masterlist link: here!
series links: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4
âI gave you all my best me's, my endless empathy, and all I did was bleed as I tried to be the bravest soldier.â
ê© â§.°. đŠč.°.â§ ê©â§.°.đŠč .°.â§ê© â§.°. đŠč.°.â§ ê©â§.°.đŠč .°.â§ê© â§.°. đŠč.
Ë â©Â°ËđŠ âïœĄËê©Satrou Gojo! RecsâïœĄËđŠË°⩠Ë
â.àłđ«§àż*: Nerd!Satrou
ÊÉ the crush theorem @/nezuscribe
ÊÉ operation: get over your childhood crush! @/kthlogue
ÊÉ love hard @/alygator77
ÊÉ between formulas, flowers, and feelings @/coffee-and-geto
ÊÉ just friends?! @/madamechrissy
ÊÉ in case of academic emergency, kiss me @/sixeyesonathiel
â.àłđ«§àż*: BF!Satrou
ÊÉ hey wifeyâŠjust checking you still love me @/reignpage
â.àłđ«§àż*: Mean!Satrou
ÊÉ just a joke @/crybabykuromi
ÊÉ grumpiest gojo in tokyo @/sixeyeonathiel
ÊÉ mean!fratboygojo and his shy!nerdy!gf @/sixxels
â.àłđ«§àż*: Spiderman!Satrou
ÊÉ caught in the web @/nimueshell
â.àłđ«§àż*: Dilf!Satrou
ÊÉ his babysitter fantasy comes true! @/veejiez
â.àłđ«§àż*: Fratboy!Satrou
ÊÉ party 4 u @/junuru
ÊÉ if you meant it @/shatteredblissxx
ÊÉ took you like a shot @/madamechrissy
ÊÉ babydoll @/sixxels
â.àłđ«§àż*: Professor!Satrou
ÊÉ take me home tonight @/madamechrissy
â.àłđ«§àż*: Ceo!Satrou
ÊÉ motherhood and matrimony @/alygator77
ÊÉ time after time @/madamechrissy
â.àłđ«§àż*: BestFriend!Satrou
ÊÉ moment of weakness @/alygator77
â.àłđ«§àż*: Arranged!Satrou
ÊÉ all is fair (in love and mergers) @/gojonanami
ÊÉ the arrangement @/nezuscribe
ÊÉ vows of duty @/alygator77
â.àłđ«§àż*: Misc!Satrou
ÊÉ shame on me @/starmapz
ÊÉ white winter hymnal @/feyrinn
ÊÉ love comes in small sizes @/sixeyesonathiel
(more to be added)
đ feel free to send me recs, asks, or just say hi! always looking for mootsđ
ââËïœĄâ with love, from yours truly â kay âĄ
âËâđâ§ËâčâĄâ that summer, as megumi would remember it, lingered in the scent of citrus he could never quite wash from beneath his fingernails. his fingers ached from peeling too many tangerines, the sweetness of them clinging stubbornly long after the season had passed. | w.c 16.5k
AO3 | đŁđ€đ©đđš â before you read i want to say that i genuinely poured every ounce of my soul into this fic and i don't think i'll write anything better than this ever. i wrote this in a span of almost a whole month cause i kept getting too emotional. this was inspired by the songs "so nice (summer samba)", "'s wonderful" and "anything". good luck :)
megumi loves tangerines.
not in the casual way people claim to like fruit, tossing the peels away without a thought, but in the quiet, deliberate way he does most things. like a small ritual carried out in the still corners of the day.
he sits with one in his hand, turning it slowly between his fingers, the skin bright and dimpled like a tiny sun caught in his palm. the room is quiet, the kind of quiet that hums softly around him, and the citrus scent is already beginning to bloom in the air even before the peel breaks. his thumb presses into the rind first, testing the softness, and then his nails follow; short, a little rough from habit. they sink into the skin with a faint snap, puncturing that thin barrier.
the peel splits open beneath the pressure and a sharp mist of juice flicks outward, tiny droplets catching the light before they disappear. sometimes it reaches his face, cool and sudden against his cheek.
he doesnât flinch when it does. if the fruit leans toward sourness, the juice finds the small wounds along his cuticles (the ones heâs chewed and picked at absentmindedly when thoughts crowd too tightly in his head) and it stings there, a brief spark of pain that pulls his attention back to the present.
megumi doesnât mind it.
slowly, carefully, he peels the tangerine open. the skin comes away in uneven curls beneath his fingers, the inside glows a softer orange, each segment pressed neatly against the next.
he begins the part he loves the most.
one segment at a time, he pulls them free. the thin white threads clinging to the fruit are picked with quiet patience, stripping them away bit by bit. itâs meticulous work, something small and repetitive, and his hands move with the same careful focus he uses in everything else. the pith gathers in a little pile beside him.
sometimes he rolls the slice between his fingers before eating it, feeling the delicate skin stretch and give.
when he finally brings it to his mouth, the segment bursts softly between his teeth. sweetness spreads first, then that gentle tang that makes the corners of his jaw tighten for a second before relaxing again.
megumi chews slowly.
the rest of the world feels quieter while he does.
like the simple act of peeling, cleaning, and eating each slice has pressed pause on everything else for a little while. his hands stay busy, reaching for the next segment, brushing away another thread of white.
and by the time the last piece disappears, the air around him still smells faintly of citrus, and his fingers are sticky with sugar and sunlight.
Megumi fic, 16k words and the synopsis sounds like that?? Is this one of the best works i'm about to read??

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FRATBOY!SUKUNA and his pathetic crush on NERDYY!READER àŒ*·Ë
âË⥠fratboy!sukuna has a big, pathetic crush on you. and for a guy who could usually bag any chick he wanted, the shy nerdy girl in his business class made him unusually nervous. (suggestive, fluff, ooc) ââ§Â°đČÖŒđą || WC: 3.8k || AC: @/to00fu @/winterrbluess
FRATBOY!SUKUNA failing business studies. not âhaha barely scraping byâ failing, no. heâs an actual, genuine academic failure. attendanceâs shit. notes? most people didnât know the idiot could write. the only thing the 6â5 hunk of a man was consistent with was showing up ten minutes late, sitting in the back with his equally as stupid friends, causing a ruckus, and longingly staring at you, the pretty, nerdy girl who sits up front and scores top of the class almost every term.
on the very last assessment FRATBOY!SUKUNA submitted, he got a twenty. not a sixty, not a forty, hell, not even a thirty. a twenty. you, on the other hand? a perfect hundred. it pissed him off. and not because he was jealous, but because he knew that if he werenât such a pussy when it came to you, heâd be able to pluck up the courage to ask you for some help.
FRATBOY!SUKUNA keeps telling himself heâs gonna talk to you today and loiters outside the lecture hall, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and acting as if heâs just waiting on his boys, but really? heâs watching you through the glass door like a fucking creep. he watches you sitting there so engaged and decides now is his time, mutters a quick âfuck itâ under his breath, then immediately backs out when someone walks past him and makes eye contact.
yeah. maybe tomorrow.
FRATBOY!SUKUNA talks a big game at the frat. heâs flopped out on the couch with one bulky arm thrown over the back and a beer in hand, running his mouth about you. âsheâs into me, i just know it,â he nods. his friends have seen firsthand how nervous he gets around you, and inevitably start shitting on him.
âyeah? then talk to her you fucking pussy.â toji bellows, earning chuckles from the other drunken brothers.
literally me when he said "you're such a clever girl"
BACK 2 FRONT
â  PAIRING ïŒTrueform! sukuna x blind! fem! reader
â  SUMMARY ïŒAfter getting yourself in a predicament of getting kidnapped even after your husband told you not to leave the shrine, you found yourself acting coy to save your life by pretending to accept another man as your husband even if you knew your husband from back to front. Sukuna said: "play coy", and so coy everyone gets. Being the strongest curse's wife wasn't for the weak â it gets hard with people trying here and there to kill him, but failing. So, they came for his weakness first. You.
ââââ  â  TAGS ïŒfemale reader, kidnapping (the reader gets kidnapped), trueform sukuna, uraume cameo, no smut, sukuna uses the term "woman", reader relies on her touch and ears a lot, fluff-ish bcs this is sukuna and fluff isn't sukuna, degrading terms (not from sukuna), petty reader, reader calls sukuna "sukuna-sama".
The one thing Sukuna had made clear was to never leave the shrine when he's not aroundâ Sukuna understood that you weren't stupid, you were a curious being. With the inability to see wonders of mother earth, you were always left with a spud of curiosity lingering against your fingertips. Every different texture of the earth, you had to touch.
However, the one time you decide to let your footsteps linger too far away from where you reside most of the time. You got yourself in a predicament of getting tied up and hoisted right by a horse's backâ to say the least, it was pretty much embarrassing to have yourself positioned that way.
"My husband is not going to find this lightly, I'd suggest you drop me here to die," you spoke lightly and way too calm for someone who doesn't even know what was happening. The three men didn't answer you at all, they continued strutting down the road, holding the horse's leash tightly, "I reminded you."
The one advice Sukuna always says: "Play coy" if anything were to happen, the human mind is quite easy to deceive. Especially, if it was a vulnerable being like you. Make them think you're as vulnerable as they think you areâ then wait for him, Sukuna always finds you.
You were quiet for most of the journey. No clue of where they were heading off to with you on this horse, and your stomach was killing you. They had kept your arms tied back and both feet bounded like some kind of livestock, it was uncomfortable to say the least. Somehow, you were quite glad that they haven't decided to kill you yet.
Wherever they brought you to. It wasn't a good place. It reeked awfully of deathâ the aura inside the room was humid and the layered clothing on you made it feel even hotter. Sweat bundled right on top of your skin, seeping into the silk material of your kimono like a mop. Nose scrunched up, they ripped the rope bound to your ankles harshly. No words were spoken to you before a cold tingle circled around your ankle, and by then you'd realize that they had bound your ankle with a metal this time around.
"May I be assisted in relieving myself, I have a hard time findingâ"
"No," one of them finally spoke. Voice rough around the edges, and you commit his voice to your mind in case this one manages to escape, "relieve yourself? Are you kidding?"
"Well, I'll be doing it right here," you told him in an innocent like way.
"Are you serioâ" he sputters out, "fine. Justâ wait, we just shackled you. Couldn't you have reminded us before we did that? Stupid prude."
They were rough with you, ripping away the shackle. You felt yourself getting tugged up by the collar of your kimono harshly as you staggered to balance yourself. These men hadn't bothered with telling you the whereabouts of different boulders nor tree barks along the way, it was a hassle to let the sharp edges dig into your skin like a pricking needle, "I would greatly appreciate it if you would tell me the whereabouts since . . . I can't see."
"I would if I wanted to," the one behind you muttered in annoyance, you could tell.
In all honesty, you didn't need to relieve yourself. You just figured that you needed to know how far it would go for these goons to actually give in to your requestâ and results? It doesn't take a lot of convincing, and even if you needed to relieve yourself, you wouldn't dream of doing it unsupervised in front of . . . what seemed to be like three men surrounding you (you head at least three of them spoke, and you weren't exactly sure how many they are).
"I have made a decision, I no longer need to relieve myself," you suddenly spoke out. They were quiet for a bit although you could feel the fingers around your arm tightening the slightest bit, "apologies, kind sirs. I do not feel the most comfort on the thought of having to relieve myself with . . . you around me. And my husband certainly would not like thaâ"
"Like it or not, he's not coming to save you," one of them spoke, his breath fanning against your face. He reeked of sake, and . . . tobacco. It took you no time to decide that he was under the influence by the way he slurs over his words like he was learningâ you didn't say anything with fear that he might get offended.
The said man tugged on your arm harsher than before, making you stumble onto your knees. You hiss softly, feeling the rough patches of sand grind into your knee, and it shouldn't have bothered you that these men did not bother at all to check on you. It bothered you because they pulled on you despite the fact that you were on your knees, the little particles grinded on your skin like sand stuck to water. It was painful, but your forced yourself to get back to your feet, following their pace.
It should take Sukuna quick to notice that your presence wasn't around.
"I told that woman to stay inside, and she left," Sukuna smirkedâ he knew you were as stubborn as mule, so the fact that you had gotten yourself in trouble without his supervision made him feel smug.
It wasn't that he was happy that you had gone missing. The vague presence of your energy that he used to feel inside the shrine was now void. In fact, he could destroy this whole forest right now just to find you. However, he would love to let you get a taste of your own medicine, even after he specifically told you to never set foot off the shrine while he was not around to check on you.
Sukuna had commanded for Uraume to find your energy the second he couldn't sense you after a short trip out for "business" you didn't need to know of.
He suppressed back a yawn, arms crossed over his chest and stomach like he was bored of the same old gameâ Uraume hadn't taken too long to find out your exact position, like Sukuna said, "We are finding that woman."
"Yes, My Lord."
On the other side, you were seated on the stack of browning hay. The edges of it prickling against your calves, not even Uraume asks you to sit on the nicely built tatami floor made of the finest wood. The metal circling your ankle suppressed your movements, and you could barely do anything without it clinking against each other.
For the past hour, you have gotten yourself reprimanded six times for making too much noise. It wasn't your fault when you were given nothing to lean onâ nothing to drink when your throat felt like sand, nothing to eat even when you had asked for at least wild berries.
"May I have water to quench my thirstâ"
You were definitely not ready for the said water to hit your face instead. And, to top it off, it was not even water. The little droplets that managed to seep in between your lips tasted bitter and pungent, this was sake. The three laughed loudly like this was the joke of the century.
You never liked sake. It tasted odd, maybe you weren't introduced to it soonerâ however, Sukuna often has a small cup of sake brought by Uraume. He never finishes a bottle, only a couple of small sips and calls it a day. Or he tells you he does, you just decide to trust your husband. The first time you tried it was under his supervision, and the second the pungent liquid dribbled down your throat, your stomach forced the liquid back out as clear vomit. The action elicits a chuckle from Sukuna, and he decides that you were not to touch nor drink sake.
"What are your intentions with me? You do understand that my husband ventures into this forest daily, no? He will find you lots in no time at all, and I suggest you flee as of now because it would not be the greatest," you suggested almost in a quiet voice, not out of care, but out of fear for Sukuna staining this brand new kimono with blood, mind you this set was made out of the finest silks anyone can get! And Uraume had haggled for a good price too.
"Shut your mouth," one slurred.
Shut your mouth it is. It was quite laughable that you still bothered telling them about itâ and to think that they were brushing you off like you were a pebble on the way, just wait until you tell Sukuna all about this. Surely he won't sit still.
"Who dares to tell my wife to shut her mouth?"
Your ears perked up at the familiar voice of your husband, the shackle rattled against the groundâ and you tried to stand up, but with your arms bound behind your back, you struggled doing so. A light whimper escaped your lips when you failed to get to your feet, "Sukuna-sama!"
Sukuna's eyes dropped onto your sitting figure, "Who dare shackle my wife like an animal?" His voice was calm, but you knew better than thatâ his breath was soft, as he commanded, "Bring her out of here, Uraume."
In an instant, the shackle was broken. Uraume appears by your side, their hand held onto yours tightly. However, they stopped before helping you up, "My Lady, you . . . drank?"
You smiled, pettily saying, "Me? No. One of them threw sake at me when I requested water," Uraume glanced at Sukuna, whose eyes had darkened briefly as he cocked his head to the side, a quiet command for Uraume to bring you out of the closeted cottage.
"Why haven't you called for help, My Lady?" Uraume asks softly, sitting you down on a rock not too far away from where the cottage satâ you could hear the distant cries of mercy from the men, you assumed.
"Sukuna-sama always comes, I know him back to front," you pat Uraume's hand gently, "but, I know you did all the finding for him. Thank you, Uraume."
Uraume bowed their head down slowly in appreciation, "I am just doing what I'm required to do, My Lady," they mumbled softly.
"It's quite a shame they ruined my kimono that you haggled, Uraume. Surely, the stains would come out, right?" You pat the fabric, trying to pinpoint the wet spots, "I hope the stains come out, I love this kimono." Even if you couldn't see the vibrant colors Uraume picked.
Sukuna's heavy footsteps roared out, his figure appeared. Bloodstained and smug, "I specifically advised you to never leave the shrine, did I not? Have you learnt your lessonâ"
"You always come to save me. I have no worries," you smirked, lopsidedly.
One of his hands dropped onto your head roughly, "Do you think you are assuring me?" Your smile never wavered, "You are insufferable. Uraume, bring her homeâ get her changed and burn that kimonoâ"
"No!"
"Yes. Uraume will get you a new one."
"I like this one."
"I do not."
Sukuna huffs, watching Uraume walk alongside you. Holding your hand to guide you down the path, his figure loomed behind you and them. Acting as a shield, for youâ he knew damn well Uraume could handle themselves.
"These humans are stupid for taking you, My Lady," Uraume mumbled, "even I understand not to mess with you . . . but, that is because I enjoy your company very much . . ."
You pat their head, "Aren't you the sweetest, Uruame?"
From the corner of his eyes, Sukuna watches Uraume tend to you intently. Changing you out of your kimonoâ the bruise around your ankle had been handled quickly, "Uraume, leave us be."
You tied your hair up, the same motion already sewn to your mind, formed into a habit. Sukuna's form loomed over you. His throat cleared, "The bruise."
"Mm?" You hum.
"Has the pain subsided?" He mutters out, his tone coming out rough and passiveâ like he doesn't care, then again; you know him enough to know that he cared much more than the ears can hear.
"It does not even hurt to begin with, you concluded it did because you cared," you point at the space beside him. He smirked, his hand curled along your wrist gently, adjusting your finger to point straight to his face, "apologies. I have . . . no skills to pinpoint anything right now."
"Right now?"
"Or ever."
Sukuna's hand engulfed yours, his eyes loosening the darknessâ a glint of comfort waved along his eyes as he watched your lips form a small smile, "Do not step out of the shrine. I won't come next time."
"Shall I test that?" You challenged.
© v3is, 2026 ïŸ do not copy, reconstruct, or upload on another platform + do not feed my works into AI.