satoru’s baby daughter saying “i’ll marry someone like papa one day” because she basically grows up witnessing on the daily just how completely smitten and devoted his father is to her mother. satoru, although not on purpose, had set an incredibly high standard for his daughter when it comes to love, and she will never settle for anything less
satoru stands in the doorway of the living room, arms crossed, watching his wife and his daughter have a little mother-daughter moment, pretending to have a teatime party with empty cups placed on the table while chattering excitedly about something. it always made him warm on the inside to see both of his girls together, he could just stand there quietly and watch you for hours.
but soon, his peace was disrupted by a declaration coming from his daughter.
“i’ll marry someone like papa one day!”, she says with her small voice.
you remain silent, eyes flicking to your husband with a quiet smile. he was frozen, staring at his daughter like she had just announced she was leaving for college.
“did you hear that?”, satoru asks, his voice unusually tight. “she’s going to marry someone like me”
you let out a soft laugh, walking over to him and placing a hand on his shoulder. “it’s a good thing, satoru. she wants someone who will love her as deeply as you love me”
“but she’s my little girl!”, brows furrowed, he retorts. “who could be good enough for her? no one could be”, he shakes his head.
“you’re being silly”, you chuckle, rubbing his back to calm your husband down. “she’s just talking about love. you’re unwillingly setting a pretty high bar, every day. kids catch on pretty quickly on those things”, you smile softly. “i think she really admires you”
satoru sighs dramatically, pulling you close and wrapping his arms around you. your back pressed against his chest, his chin rested on your head as you both watch your daughter, your sweet little princess. “i’m not ready to share her”, he drags out another sigh. “she’s going to grow up and someone else is going to be all i love you and i’ll protect you — that’s my job, you know?“
“your job is to show her what real love looks like, and you’re already doing a great job. i know it’s because of you, that when the time comes, she will choose someone who will treat her just as well as her father treats her mother”
“you think so?”
“i know so, baby”
he hums, his gaze now softening. “but still… nobody touches her”
“yes, yes”, you laugh.
and as if on cue, your daughter looks at you both and says “i’ll only marry someone like papa, but papa will always be my first love”
needless to say, satoru’s chest puffs with pride at his little one’s words. he couldn’t even pretend to be tough right now — he was melting. he didn’t know what the future held, but he’d always protect his little girl with everything he got.
“good”, satoru replies. “you keep that in mind when you get older”
you let out a snort, followed by a barely audible “you’re impossible” which goes unheard by your husband.
he was way too busy savoring the moment with his little daughter as best as he could while he could still freely carry her around in his arms without getting hit with a river of complaints that he’s embarrassing her.
it’s true, he might’ve set the bar impossibly high when it comes to love, but that was exactly what his daughter deserved.
“why’s she dolling herself up like that? we’re not going anywhere, we’re not even having guests. it’s just nanami coming over”, satoru questions, leaning against the doorframe of your little daughter’s room, arms crossed and one eyebrow raised.
“it’s because nanami is coming over”, you reply, resting your head against his arm as the two of you watch your little girl lay out her nicest clothes on the bed, carefully deciding which one to wear.
“i don’t get it”, satoru frowns.
you glance up at him and flatly point out what was already more than obvious — “she has a crush on him” — and then instantly feel your husband’s body tense up beside you. “come on?” you add, “you haven’t noticed? i mean, she lights up every time he visits. she even calls him kento. and earlier i caught her eyeing my lipstick—”
“okay, stop”, he cuts you off, a hand dragging down his face, which by now is deprived of any color. “of all people, she chose to have a crush on him?”
“so you’d be fine if it were someone else? is that what you’re saying?”, you smirk.
“no”, satoru snaps. “she’s not allowed to like anyone but me. especially not that stiff grade 1 sorcerer with the weird ties while her father — a special grade with excellent style — stands right in front of her”, he sticks out his bottom lip in a childish pout.
“says mr. blindfold”, you let out a snort, and he shoots you a look — “you’re supposed to be on my side, dear wife. in sickness, health and petty jealousy as you vowed on our wedding day”
“she’s just a kid, satoru. it’s a phase that all kids go through — crushing on some adult who’s the age of their father. it’s not even real feelings, just cute and harmless admiration”
“not me”, he sulks. “i never crushed on anyone but you— wait”, he suddenly turns to you — “did you go through that phase too?”
“well, yeah, i—”
“you mean i wasn’t your first ever crush?!?!?”
you stifle a laugh. “you were my first ever real crush, satoru”
“who was the bastard who dared to catch your eye before me?”
“…it doesn’t matter. i was like, five or six back then”
“i don’t care if you were in diapers, give me the name”
as it turns out, your daughter having a crush on nanami was no longer the main crisis in the house.
your husband and your daughter childishly argue over your head on who should be the first to kiss you wake up
f!reader (she/her), girl dad!satoru, you are referred to as mama
a/n: hi guys, long time no papatoru days! this drabble is lowkey a reworked version of a short blurb i shared a while ago :D i just couldn’t resist including it here bc it’s super cute (TO ME) anyway! hope you enjoy mwah < 3
there’s no doubt that satoru is the one who gets the least sleep in your family, courtesy of the nature of his job. but even when he’s running on just three hours of rest (if that even counts as rest), he never uses his days off to catch up — instead, he lets you sleep in while he wrangles your daughter.
of course, “letting you sleep in” is also the perfect excuse for satoru to surprise you with breakfast in bed — something he’s done for you since long before your little one was born. the only difference now is that he has an accomplice in the kitchen and a rival he has to share your cheeks with.
so this morning, on his day off, is no different.
you’re already awake, of course — you heard the distant clatter coming from the kitchen and immediately knew what they were up to. part of you hoped they hadn’t made too much of their usual mess… last time, pancake mix ended up all over the floor and, somehow, you were the one scrubbing it at the end of the day. but still, now was not the time to worry or spoil their fun, not when they were already at your bedside, their whispers growing louder as they argued over who gets to kiss you awake first.
“papa should be the one — it’s only fair, after all, since mama belongs to papa”, satoru whispers, trying to make his point with all the logic of a child himself.
“you kiss mama all the time”, your little one pouts. “it should be me, at least this once— hmph!”
“look, kiddo”, he furrows his brows like he’s genuinely taking this very seriously. “you can’t steal mama’s first kiss of the day — that’s papa’s job!”
“i’m sure you already kissed her”, she argues, shooting him a sideways glance, and then adds with a smirk — “so that wouldn’t be her first kiss of the day”
…which is true. satoru had already kissed you earlier — on the shoulder first, and then in your hair — just before slipping out of bed.
“hey! that doesn’t count! she was still sleeping”, he protests.
“and she’s still sleeping right now”, your daughter points out smugly. “you can kiss her again once she wakes up”
“but you see, the intention of the kiss is different”, he insists. “this one’s supposed to wake her up. it’s the most important kiss of the day — i can’t let you steal that from me”
“papa, you can’t keep mama all to yourself, that’s pretty selfish”, she says, crossing her arms.
“can’t help it”, satoru sighs, resting his cheek in his hand as he gazes down at you. “papa just loves mama too much”
“but i love mama too”, your little one adds with just as much softness in her little voice.
they both pout, neither willing to back down.
by this point, you’re having serious trouble holding back your laughter — they’re just too adorable right now — but somehow, you manage to keep still.
after a while of intense negotiations, they finally reach an agreement.
“alright, let’s just kiss her at the same time then — you take this cheek, and i’ll take the other”, satoru suggests while pointing at your face, and your little one nods. “fine, let’s share mama!”
“okay, here we go! three… two… one—”
peck — one, and two, and three, and then another, and another, and another — until you finally open your eyes, still pretending to be groggy, only to grab them both and squish their faces against your cheeks, and it ends, as always, in a pile of giggles and cuddles with you sandwiched tightly between them.
you can’t believe they never get tired of this, adorably fighting over you every single time. but, you never tire of it either. so who are you to judge, right?
“alright”, you laugh, “let’s see how the pancakes turned out this time. who’s feeding me the first bite, hm?” — and the second those words leave your mouth, they’re already glaring at each other. yes, you knew exactly what you were doing — setting off round two.
and this time, you’re going to sit back and enjoy the show with eyes open.
extra:
…but as much as you love them, the scolding is inevitable once you witness the chaos they left behind in the kitchen. again.
“mama can be very scary, huh…” satoru mutters as he scrubs the dishes at the sink.
your daughter nods solemnly while drying a plate with a towel. “i really thought she’d let it slide this time…”, and then she adds with a huff — “i told you, papa! we should’ve cleaned up first and then wake her”
“nah, it would’ve taken too long”, satoru shrugs. “look at this mess — by the time we finished, mama would’ve already been up. surprise ruined”
“but aren’t you fast, papa?” she asks. “i heard mama say you finish too fast”
satoru chokes — he did not see that one coming.
“that’s… that’s your mother’s fault”, he mutters, clearly flustered and caught off guard.
“her fault?” she tilts her head, blinking curiously.
“yeah, you know…” he clears his throat. “she scolds me and i get the job done. sometimes, real fast…”
because mama is very pretty when she’s angry — he wants to add, but figures it’s best and safest to keep it vague and let her stay blissfully unaware of the real meaning behind that out-of-context line before she starts asking more questions that will get him in serious trouble.
when your daughter asks “who said i love you first?”, the answer depends entirely on who tells the story
f!reader (she/her), girl dad!satoru, satoru tells your little one the story of how you said i love you first (told through a flashback), wc: 2.1k, not proofread
“papa, who said i love you first — you or mama?” your daughter curiously asks one day.
she’s currently in the middle of her very serious hairstylist routine, standing on a tiny chair as she carefully places colorful clips and ties in satoru’s hair who, on the other hand, is patiently perched in her room on another equally tiny chair that is clearly meant for dolls or toddles, and definitely not a grown man built like him.
of course, for the past hour and a half or so, satoru hasn’t actually been sitting — he’s been squatting just above the seat, careful not to crush it under his full weight. but he’s not complaining (even though his legs must be feeling it by now), not when his little girl is this happy playing with his hair.
“you’ll be surprised, my life, but it was your mama!” satoru answers smugly, his eyes gleaming proudly over that little victory.
“…snack time!” your voice reaches from the door as you nudge it open with your foot, stepping into the room with a tray of cookies in hand. “also — that’s not true. your father is lying to you.”
you set the tray down on the tiny table next to them and sit on the floor beside it.
“it is very much true”, satoru says — “need me to jog your memory?” — flashing you a wide grin.
you roll your eyes, preparing yourself to argue back and eventually say no, but your daughter gasps excitedly. “yes! yes! yes! story time!” she cheers and immediately plops down beside you, grabbing a cookie and nibbling at it with tiny bites as she waits for the tale to unfold. she’s always very eager to hear stories from your past before she was born, and with that kind of enthusiasm, you can’t really bring yourself to protest.
“alright then”, satoru says, clearing his throat as he shifts off the tiny chair and sits cross-legged on the floor. all three of you in a circle now. “so”, he continues, “this is the true and honest tale of how your beautiful and lovely mother said i love you first”
you scoff and give him a look. “let me correct the title — this is the story of how your father tricked me into saying i love you”
“my love, please”, satoru lets out a fake and very exaggerated gasp. “don’t be such a sore loser, not in front of our child — you’re setting a bad example”, he adds in a hushed voice, then takes your hand in his, bringing it to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles — partly because he just wants to kiss you, but also to hide that little grin of his.
“i’m just stating the facts”, you reply, slipping your hand free only to reach up again and pinch his nose, quickly earning a dramatic ouch! from him.
“see, my life?” satoru turns to your daughter while holding his nose, pretending to be in pain. “sore losers get violent” — but your little one just giggles at his antics, cookie crumbs clinging to her mouth.
you try to hold a straight face, but a smile tugs at your lips before you can stop it. still, you square your shoulders, determined — “okay then”, you say, crossing your arms. “tell the story and we’ll let her be the judge and decide if it was trickery or not”, you point at your daughter.
“i’ll be the judge! i’ll be the judge!” she exclaims, bouncing in place.
“sounds fair to me”, satoru grins as he reaches for your hand again — and this time, you let your fingers weave naturally through his. “so”, he begins. “two weeks after we started dating, we went to see a movie…”
. . .
you held hands throughout the entire movie — fingers laced, palms pressed so tight and close and for so long that by the time you stepped out of the movie theatre and into the cool night air, both your hands were practically soaked in sweat. they were warm and clammy, probably even pruney from all that time spent wrapped around each other. and yet — neither of you seemed inclined to let go; if anything, your grip only grew firmer.
“wah! it was such a good movie!” you chimed, eyes still sparkling from the final scene. “the ending was so romantic!”
satoru shot you a deadpan look from beside you as you both walked down the street, one brow raised. “they literally died”
“yes but they died together”, you countered and then sighed dreamily. “he was holding her hand the whole time! that was peak romance!”
satoru glanced down at your still intertwined fingers as your hands swung slightly between your steps — just like us right now, he thought to himself, but he didn’t say it out loud. instead, a soft smile crept onto his lips and he gave your hand a gentle squeeze as you continued chattering about the movie. he could listen to you go on and on about it all night, but you suddenly said something that made his soft smile turn sly.
“i really, really loved it!” you gushed and gushed, voice lifting slightly with each word. “like, sooo much! ough! i loved it!”
now, he clearly heard what you said — of course he did — but the street was busy, noisy with the rush of passing cars, distant music coming from cafes and restaurants, the chatter of people nearby… which gave him the perfect cover he needed to cause a little mischief.
he stopped abruptly. your linked hands tugging you back before you turned, blinking up at him. “hm? what?”
“wait, wait”, he said, eyes wide with disbelief — completely fake but surprisingly convincing as you totally fell for it. “did you just say you love me?”
silence
your cheeks instantly heated up. under normal circumstances, you wouldn’t hesitate to correct someone who misheard you, but this very situation right now was a different story.
because, how exactly were you supposed to correct someone who wasn’t entirely wrong in the first place? sure, you didn’t say i love you… but you had thought about it here and there, more than you’d like to admit, in fact; and surely, you might’ve come to the conclusion that, yes, you did love him — but then again, it was too soon to say it out loud… and you didn’t say it… still, denying it now might create a weird tension between you — you spent a good minute silently pondering and spiraling, before you spoke—
“i-i—” you stammered, dropping your gaze to avoid his. “i said i loved the movie”, voice small and flustered, clearly trying to save face, but the damage — as far as satoru was concerned — was delightfully done.
satoru hadn’t actually expected his little bluff to work — normally, you were sharp and quick with a comeback, always ready to put him in his place (one of the many things he adored about you) — but to his surprise, it, in fact, did work like a charm. and now that he was watching you try and fail to talk your way out of it, he had to physically bite the inside of his cheek to keep from grinning like a maniac. he got you good.
“well”, he said all while exaggerating a pout and slumping his shoulders, “so you don’t love me then?”
“i-i— i didn’t say that either!”
“aha. you’d rather love the movie than me, your boyfriend. got it.” — still pouting, but mentally cracking up at your panicked expression.
“damn it! why do you keep putting words in my mouth?”, you let out an exasperated sigh, to which satoru only shrugged — all innocence on the outside but on the inside he was practically doing backflips, because you weren’t exactly denying it. and if he was gojo satoru, then he was going to get that confession out of you tonight.
“i’m just trying to understand”, he tilted his head.
“i loved the movie”, you replied, standing your ground (barely though). “that’s it”
“what about me though?” satoru tilted his head even further, pairing it with a puppy eye look so realistic it was practically causing you chest pain.
“…”
he leaned in a little. “you don’t love me?”
“…”
“oh…” — a (fake) crack in his voice. “i see…”
“…i do”, you said, barely above a whisper, but it was there, and he heard — again — but satoru being satoru, he kept pushing. “you do what?” he asked with an oblivious expression.
“you know…”, you mewled, but didn’t finish.
“i have no idea”, he gave a shrug. “you didn’t say it properly. maybe you really don’t l—”
“i love you, you big idiot!”, you cut him off and basically yelled it at him.
silence
even though satoru had technically forced you to say it, his eyes couldn’t help but widen in surprise. hearing those words from you — even if they were shouted alongside an insult (not very romantic of you) — felt undeniably magical to him. a smile slowly tugged at his lips, and then he broke into laughter — finally dropping the act— all while you stood there fidgeting, anxiously waiting for a response.
“wow”, he managed between bursts of laughter while bouncing on his heels like a toddler, “this actually worked, hahahaha”
…and it finally dawned at you, that you had walked right into his trap.
mouth agape, you stared at him in disbelief. “you’re unbelievable. you tricked me?”
“yeah”, he said, half smug and half emotional, the teasing glint in his eyes still there but somehow softened. his heart was full, finally at ease knowing that your feelings matched his own. “i might be unbelievable or a big idiot — like you said — but you love me, don’t you?”
you huffed, trying to fight the helpless smile tugging at your lips. “i swear i am going to break up with you”
“says the person still holding my hand”, he teased with a grin, looking down at your joined hands. “squeezing it tighter than ever, in fact”, he added.
“that’s out of anger”, you huffed, giving a dramatic tug as if trying to pull away from his grip in protest — but you didn’t actually let go.
“nah”, he whispered, leaning in until your noses touched. “it’s out of love”, he breathed against your lips before adding — “when you want to slap me so hard but choose to hold me instead, it means it’s out of love”. his other hand rose to gently cradle your cheek, “i love you too”
“not my fault she fell for it”, satoru shamelessly shrugs.
“well, that’s… true”, she says thoughtfully, pinching her chin. “technically, even if you tricked her — mama said it first”
“that’s still not true”, you say, leaning in just a little, a smirk on your lips — the kind that says you know you’re about to drop one final twist and win. “your father was the one who said it first”
both satoru and your daughter look at you with their eyebrows raised in perfect sync. “what do you mean?” your little one asks, while satoru’s eyes narrow ever so slightly and you can see the spark of recognition there. you can tell he knows exactly where this is going.
“a few nights prior to that movie date”, you begin, “i stayed over at your father’s place for the first time, and we—” you pause for a second as the memory of your first time flashes in your mind, but you quickly clear your throat and glance at your daughter, obviously deciding to censor that part, “—took a nap together after dinner” — to which satoru snorts in that all too knowing way, but you shoot him a warning glare before you continue,
“and, while he thought i was asleep, he whispered into my ear — and i quote — would you freak out if i told you i love you? … i love you”
“damn”, satoru laughs, “i knew you were awake”, while rubbing the back of his neck. “i had a hunch… after i said that, you suddenly started squeez—” — you shoot him another warning glare — “…breathing all suspiciously”, and he corrects himself quickly.
“papa, you’re a liar!” your daughter gasps, utterly scandalized. “you did say it first! you are a liar!”
“oi, oi”, he frowns, feigning offense. “i don’t need slander from a little girl who doesn’t even know her own mother’s name!”
“i do know mama’s name!” she shoots back. “you say it all the time!”
“oh yea?” satoru raises an eyebrow, already knowing where this is going.
“yea! mama’s name is my love!” she declares it with her full chest, completely confident — after all, that’s what her father calls her mother all the time.
…and maybe it is time you finally teach your daughter your real name, but that can wait a little — at least until you and satoru stop laughing.
Every moment that passes, there are children going hungry. Life has become unbearably expensive, and prices are insanely high we are facing the entire world alone.
I cannot provide clean water for my children, and I am a war injured person.
He would let you ramble for hours on your daily hyperfixation be it the new anime you watch or plants you’ve been researching about hes all ears.
To be honest he just loves hearing you talk.
And when you have one of those days where your mind Disides to shut down he’s right here to catch you when you fall.
What type of lover would he be if he didn’t? You are his world after all!
That’s why he doesn’t take shit from anyone who critize’s your behavior. He knows the world is cruel he’s seen it first hand but for someone to inflict that cruelness onto the only thing he holds dear.
Well it’s enough to get his blood boiling and his hands gripping for his gun.
Of course he would never do it in front of you! He would never want to scare you.
That’s why at the end of the day when the sun finally sets and everything is just right. He ticks you into what would be more called a nest than a bed from the amount of plushies and blankets there are.
He pulls you towards him and whispers Sweet nothings into your ears. Until you eventually fall asleep.
Yes, sylus loves you oh so very much.
So don’t question why he has excessive amounts of blood coating him when he comes home.
boxer!sukuna who’s been in the training room for hours now. Sweat trickled all over his body as his arms never stopped swinging.
“Sukuna, you’ve been here for more than an hour now. That punching bag will break any moment.” Toji voiced out as he walked in.
“What’s wrong with you?” He tried to ask Sukuna.
“She’s mad at me. Been ignoring me for two days now.” Sukuna dropped his arms and sulked. Fucking hell, he misses you so much.
“Ah that pretty doll? Couldn’t imagine her staying mad that long with your annoying ass.”
“She’s my pretty doll. Don’t call her that.” Sukuna grumbled at Toji but the man ignored him.
“What’d you do?”
“Her medical director was being a misogynistic ass, so I punched him on her behalf.” Sukuna smirked, remembering how gratifying it was to punch the bastard in the face.
“Heh, would’ve done the same if I was there. But didn’t it occur to you that she might not want you to fight her battles for her?”
“Why wouldn’t she? I could send that man in a hospital without even breaking a sweat.”
“That’s exactly why asshole. Besides, you’ve seen how she handles herself in her own field. So go apologize instead of breaking our goddamn equipment.”
boxer!sukuna who corners you in your office so you can’t avoid him anymore. Locking the door close and closing the blinds so nobody could interfere. He went looking for you right after finishing his shower.
“We need to talk.”
“Not here Sukuna, I’m working. And I don’t want to talk to you right now.” You can see where this was going, tears already threatened to fall in the corners of your eyes.
“No. We need to talk right now, or else I’ll go crazy-“
“You’re going crazy? You haven’t talked to me in two days Sukuna. Now you’ll stroll in here and break up with me?”
“Break up?“ What the hell?
“Can’t handle the emotional part of the relationship? I should’ve known since you’re-“
“Since I’m what?” His voice was loud and angry. It was the first time he got mad at you.
“How could I even dare to break up with you when you’re constantly in my mind? When I’m trying my best just so you could notice me? When I’d surrender at your feet if you’d only say the word? I’ve pursued you for months and waited for you to see me. Even with countless rejections, I would’ve continued to wait for the rest of my life as long as there’s no ring on your finger yet. God, my infatuation even turned into obsession.” He sounds dejected as he chuckled to himself in pity.
“Now you’re saying I’m here to break up with you? No baby, I’m here to get on my knees and beg for your forgiveness. Because I’ll lose my goddamn mind if I don’t have your attention on me even in a split second. Why can’t you see it? I’m so fucking in love with you that the thought of leaving wouldn’t even cross my mind.” He continued on and sighed in agony.
“Y-You’re what?” You were stunned. It was the first time he said that three lettered word.
“I love you so fucking much. So please, I’m sorry for what I’ve done. I shouldn’t have interfered because I know you could stand up for yourself. But I can’t say I regret punching that motherfucker in the face.”
“I know you won’t, ‘kuna.”
“Fuck, don’t cry baby. I’m sorry I was an asshole.” He got on his knees and wiped the tears that fell from your eyes. You leaned into the warmth of his touch.
“Yeah but thanks to your little stunt, that man was fired and I won’t have to deal with his misogynistic comments anymore.” You just finished talking to the higher ups and the HR a while ago, they assured you that they’ll handle the case and that your medical director will be terminated immediately.
“I’m sorry too Sukuna, for avoiding and ignoring you. I should’ve reached out to you sooner.”
“No, it was my fault. I should’ve reached out. It won’t happen again baby, I promise.”
“Ryo.” You called him and caressed his face.
“Hmm?”
“I love you too.” His brain stopped functioning when he heard you say that.
“A-Are you sure? I’m not pressuring you just because I said it earlier-“ Ears turning red, he was now flustered and asked just to make sure he heard it correctly.
“I love you Ryomen Sukuna, I’m very sure.” You expressed lovingly, together with a quick peck on his lips.
“You sure know how to make me crazy for you, sweetheart.”
boxer!sukuna who’s pining after you for over a year now. This man would constantly cross the lines and push any boundaries you set just so you could spare him one date. He doesn’t mind the chase, it only makes him want you more.
boxer!sukuna can’t take his eyes off of you during the company’s year-end party at the bar. His eyes were eating up the outfit you wore. The dress hung perfectly on your curves. He’s dying for a touch.
He’s on his sixth drink now, he’s tipsy for sure. You two were left alone in the VIP booth, while everyone partied on the dance floor. His arm rested on the back of your seat, fingers ghosting over your shoulder as he watched you drink your tequila shot.
You frowned at him when he stole the lemon you were holding. He smirked and raised his brow, silently daring you to take it from his fingers.
What he doesn’t realize was, you too had too many shots now and were high on liquid courage. Never breaking eye contact with him, you didn’t hesitate to move closer and suck on the fruit from his hold.
Fucking hell, you little minx. He bit his lower lip to suppress a groan.
His eyes dart from your eyes to your lips. You gasped when you felt his hot tongue licking upwards from your chin up to the side of your lips, savoring the lemon juice that dripped.
“Sukuna” You called him softly.
“Yeah, baby?” His half-lidded eyes stared back at you.
“I should punch you for that.”
He chuckled, your pouting lips only invites him more.
“A woman after my own heart.”
boxer!sukuna who possessively wraps his arm on the back of your thigh to pull you closer when he noticed Toji Fushiguro staring at you curiously. Toji, his sparring partner for today, was curious about the lady doctor that Sukuna was so obsessed with.
“Stop staring Toji, she’s mine.” He glared at the man from across the ring.
“‘m not yours Sukuna.”
“Could’ve fooled me baby, you’re wrapping bandage on my hand like a wife would do.”
“I literally do this for other players too.”
“Hmm.” Was all he replied, he was busy staring at your face. You rolled your eyes at him when you noticed.
“You’re so beautiful doc, wanna go out with me?” Your hands stopped for a moment, he didn’t miss the blush creeping up your face.
He’s been asking you for a date relentlessly over the past year. Maybe this time you’ll finally give in.
“When you win the championship this season, maybe I’ll say yes.” You say, avoiding his eyes as you finished wrapping up his hands.
Sukuna was stunned, he didn’t expect you’d say yes after rejecting him so many times.
“Fuck me. Fushiguro! You heard that? She finally agreed to be my woman!”
“Yeah I think you have a hearing problem, you lovesick fool.”
“He’s right. Selective hearing can damage your brain Sukuna. You aren’t even champion yet.”
You stated, but he doesn’t care. All Sukuna heard was that he finally has the chance to make you his (wife) girlfriend.
“I promise you, that belt will be my consolation prize. I’m coming home with you as my trophy.”
boxer!sukuna who’s instantly intrigued the first time you two meet. You were passing behind him when you noticed that he’s suffering from a knot in his shoulder. You didn’t hesitate to offer your help even with the evident scowl on his face.
“Can I touch you?” You asked politely with those innocent eyes. How dare he say no to that?
He nods timidly, inhaling a bit when he felt your fingers press onto his skin. You added pressure to deviate the tension on his muscles with such ease that even the current doctor can’t do.
“There, all done!” You smiled at him and walked away as if nothing happened.
He can’t get you out of his mind after that.
boxer!sukuna who learned that you were the new lead doctor of his agency. He’s so confused when you look so unfazed when examining him. The man was 6’8 and made out of muscle, yet you look at him like it’s normal for you to see his men like him all the time. He wants to change that.
boxer!sukuna who intentionally makes himself lose during training and sparring sessions just to have an excuse to see you more.
“You can’t keep doing this Sukuna.” You’re pissed, he can tell by the tone of your voice.
“Doing what?”
“Your next fight’s coming up. You can’t keep getting hurt. I thought you were the best boxer?”
“You distract me when you watch me fight, baby.”
“Don’t do that too.” He raised a brow at your statement.
“I’m your doctor ‘kuna, you can’t flirt with me.”
Then maybe you shouldn’t give me a nickname, he wants to say.
“Can’t help it doc, you’re too pretty.”
boxer!sukuna who going to give his PR team a headache, and the HR a disaster because his interest in you isn’t going away any time soon.
boxer!sukuna who watches you like a hawk when you examine other boxers. He thinks you look so cute when you’re extremely focused. Though sometimes, his jealously streak kicks in. He wants you to focus on him and only him.
boxer!sukuna who flirts with you non-stop even if you try to push him away. He believes that fate brought you to him that day you two met. The poor man is stage five in lovesickness.
boxer!sukuna who’s now suffering from an injury from his last fight that his vision started to become a little blurry. He still won but everyone rushed to attend to him backstage. You in particular, were very worried. Unfortunately, it looks like he needed to be taken to a hospital.
“Don’t pass out on me Sukuna.” Your palm felt so warm and comforting on his cheek.
“If I survive this, let me take you out on a date.” He managed to grin.
The training gym smelled of old leather, dried sweat, and the sharp tang of liniment. In the center ring, Ryomen Sukuna was a storm of violence. His movements were blurringly fast, heavy bags groaning under the impact of his shins and fists.
His coach, Uraume, stood by with a stopwatch, looking increasingly stressed. A group of seasoned sparring partners hovered near the ropes, none of them brave enough to step inside. Sukuna was in one of his moods a jagged, restless energy that made him impossible to manage.
"Sukuna, that’s enough for the set," Uraume called out, their voice barely carrying over the rhythmic thud-crack of his strikes.
Sukuna didn't even blink. He landed a hook that nearly tore the heavy bag from its chains. "I’ll decide when I’m done," he growled, his voice a low, dangerous vibration. He wiped sweat from his brow with a taped forearm, his four eyes narrowed in boredom and irritation. "Unless one of these cowards wants to actually get in here and try to stop me?"
The gym went silent. Nobody moved.
Then, the heavy steel door at the back of the gym creaked open. The sound of soft soled shoes hitting the concrete floor was quiet, but Sukuna’s head snapped toward the entrance instantly.
You walked in, carrying a small gym bag and a fresh bottle of water. You didn't look at the intimidating fighters or the expensive equipment your focus was entirely on the man in the ring.
"Ryomen," you said, your voice calm and level. "It’s 6:00 PM."
The transformation was immediate. The lethal tension in his shoulders didn't disappear, but it shifted. He stopped mid-stance, his hands dropping to his sides.
"You're late," he remarked, though the bite was gone from his tone. He stepped through the ropes, ignoring the stunned silence of the gym, and walked straight to the edge of the ring where you stood.
"The traffic was bad," you replied, reaching up to untie the laces of his headgear. He leaned down instinctively, lowering his height so you didn't have to reach. "Uraume says you’ve been ignoring the timer for twenty minutes."
Sukuna cast a sidelong, murderous glance at Uraume, who suddenly found a clipboard very interesting. "Uraume talks too much."
"Uraume is trying to keep you from tearing a muscle before the title fight," you countered, pulling the headgear off. You began unwrapping the tape from his massive hands. "Sit. Drink your water."
The "King of the Ring," the man who had sent three opponents to the hospital this season alone, sat down on the edge of the canvas like a disciplined student. He took the water from you, drinking it in long, greedy gulps while you worked on his hands.
"I could have gone another hour," he muttered into the bottle.
"You could have," you agreed, peeling back the last of the tape to reveal his bruised knuckles. You pressed a firm kiss to the back of his hand. "But you won't. Because I'm making dinner, and if it gets cold, I’m not reheating it."
Sukuna let out a short, rough chuckle. He reached out with a damp hand, cupping the side of your face and pulling you closer until your forehead rested against his.
"Fine," he murmured, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone. "I suppose I can be persuaded to follow a schedule... if you're the one keeping it."
He stood up, towering over you, and threw a heavy arm around your shoulders. He didn't look back at the ring or his trainers. He didn't care about the gym. He only cared about the person walking him toward the exit.
"Let's go," he growled, a smug smirk tugging at his lips. "I'm starving."
the sitter chronicles are you ready to punch somebody? part 2
a toji fushiguro x babysitter!reader fic
a/n: WE'RE SO BACK POOKIES. I'm sorry I abandoned ship the last couple days, but I was kinda depressed for my accounting exam that went SHIT😆 I'll probably be fixated on the next exams so I won't promise you anything, just pleaaaase bear with me!! btw I freaking HATE how this came out but i'm gonna post it anyway, so just let me know what you think. thank you for the support🩷 let me know if you'd like anything specific for the next parts🩷🩷🩷 love you all😼 as always, if you want, you can read the rest of the series here !
enjoy!!!!!
LIKES, COMMENTS AND REBLOGS ARE ALWAYS APPRECIATED
cw: toxic dynamics with reader's (ex) boyfriend, NOT ROMANTICISING!!!! [grooming (past), emotional abuse, age gap, manipulation, slut-shaming]. explicit language.
the more you try to calm yourself down, the more your hands keep shaking. you're probably seconds away from wearing a hole into the floor after so much pacing in the living room when you receive a text from mr. fushiguro, warning you he's outside.
you can feel his eyes on you the second you step out of your building. watchful green eyes scanning your whole figure, freezing the blood in your veins. his broad frame leans against the passenger door, hiding another presence — a man sitting in the car, lazily smoking a cigarette.
toji moves, a brief tilt of his head toward the car door silently motioning for you to get in. his car is clean, just like last time — the only difference is the asphyxiating stench left by the unknown man.
the silence is deafening. toji watches you through the rear view mirror. "put it out" he says, still looking at you from beneath his lashes. a low grumble escapes the man's mouth. then, with a swift motion, the window slides down and the cigarette is gone.
the sun shining outside fades in contrast to the tense atmosphere inside the vehicle. a fifteen minutes ride, not one word.
you've never been in this part of the city. the restaurant is completely empty. most of the lights are turned off, except for the ones above a table in the corner and the dim glow spilling from the nearby open kitchen. a pleasant smell comes from the pans on the stovetop, delicate and mouthwatering. colourful vegetables are already arranged on four plates, waiting for the rest of the food to be added.
another man peeks out the kitchen. you wouldn't bet fake money that he cooked something so artistic and beautifully presented. not that you're quick to judge — but the tall, pink-haired man dressed in a white chef jacket doesn't exactly look like someone who spend all day in a kitchen, handling culinary blossoms with tiny kitchen tongs. his large hand reaches out, tatted snakes sliding out his rolled-up sleeves.
"I'm sukuna, the owner of the restaurant. nice to meet you." his voice is low — his hand unexpectedly soft, though the grip is steady.
for the first time since you arrived, you realise you're in an empty restaurant, outside the city's chaos, with three adult men. scary, scarred, tatted men.
your train of thought is abruptly cut short by the low grumble of your stomach. cigarette guy smirks. sukuna fully on chuckles.
"let's feed the little one properly, then we'll discuss business." sukuna says, disappearing back into the kitchen.
"kid, this is shiu, a friend from work. kind of," toji says, squeezing his friends shoulder. "it may seem like he's not educated enough to introduce himself, but he's actually been studying you since you got in the car. so, please, excuse his poor manners." shiu smirks again, taking your hand and brushing his lips against the back of it.
"it's a pleasure to meet you, doll." his velvety voice cracks the moment toji slaps the back of his neck.
"knock it off, prick. she could be your daughter." he barks, settling into one of the four chairs around the wooden table.
once you're all seated, sukuna serves you what you're certain is the best food you've ever tasted in your life. a low moan slips form your mouth. sukuna cocks his eyebrow, waiting for your feedback. toji stiffens.
"oh. my. god. mr.sukuna, this is the most delicious food I've ever eaten in my life" you squeal, mouth still full. sukuna relaxes. toji, on the other hand, remains rigid like a wall of cement.
once you finish eating and the table is empty, shiu clears his voice. "so. about this kyogo brat. I checked his background. it's mostly clean, except for two DUIs and a possession charge. kids nowadays."
you yelp in your seat. you didn't know about that.
"can you tell us about you two, sweetheart?" sukuna, now dressed in casual clothes, leans on the table.
"yeah, sure. uhm... we first got together when I was sixteen and he was twenty-three" toji straightens in his chair, clicking his tongue. sudden embarrassment locks your limbs.
"go on" sukuna says gently, offering you a reassuring smile.
"we met at a cafe near my school. he asked for my number and my friends thought it was cool that someone older was interested in me, so I gave it to him. we were together for a couple months, then I found out he already had a girlfriend. fiancee, actually. I broke up with him immediately, but he told me his parents had forced him into an arranged marriage — or something like that — and that he loved me. that he had to listen to them because they're rich and he lives off of them."
you swallow.
"after a couple weeks, he broke off the engagement and he came to me. so I took him back. for the last four years, it's been a constant push and pull. I've thought about leaving him so many times, but I feel guilty because he went against his parents for me. and sometimes— sometimes he still treats me decently."
"and it's hard to leave the guy that was your first everything" you snap your head at shiu, cheeks burning. sukuna slaps his bicep. "wow. nice tact."
toji is awfully silent. his eyes are fixed on you, but you don't dare meet his gaze. shiu and sukuna start bickering, shoving eachother like teenagers.
"but he doesn't hurt you, does he?"
toji's cold voice cuts through the air like a sharp knife. the other two men immediately stop their fight, seriousness settling back in.
"no, absolutely not, mr.fushiguro—" you immediately look at him, hands to your chest "he doesn't hit me. he just breaks stuff sometimes, like glasses and plates. or punches the wall." your gaze drops to the table again.
"the main reason I want to dump him is the stuff his friends say to me. and the fact he never steps in."
toji looks at you, silently urging you to continue.
"his friends are older than me, obviously. they're kinda mean. they always have something to say about my school, the food I eat, my weight, my 'slutty' dresses. or about me rambling. honestly, pretty much everything I do bothers them. and I can totally see that. I can. in their eyes I'm just a kid. I do talk very much when I'm nervous and I like skirts. so what? I jus—"
"megumi loves listening to you talk about anything," toji cuts in, his tone unexpectedly warm. "you have this unique way of calming him. and when I come back home after a long day and find you two all cuddled up... that calms me too."
"you old sap" shiu scoff, flicking his arm.
toji doesn’t even look at him.
“and why,” he says instead, voice low and steady, “would you ever change yourself for a shithead like that?”
silence fills the room again. toji leans back in his chair, one arm on the backrest. he gives sukuna a telling look. he meets it, then nods.
“you’re done with him,” toji says.
it's not a suggestion. more like a verdict. a decision he already made. your chest tightens.
“I— I tried.” you admit “I’ve tried so many times.” you swallow. “every time I brought something up, he told me I was exaggerating. that I was too sensitive — and I liked making problems out of nothing.”
you hesitate, then add quietly, ashamed of yourself, “I didn’t even mean for any of this to come out.”
toji’s gaze darkens.
“I screenshotted our messages,” you explain. “because I wanted to send them to shoko, since she always tells me to text her whenever he goes crazy.” a breath catches in your throat. “but I sent them to you, mr.fushiguro”
the air stills.
“I panicked. and then you texted me asking if I was okay.”
tears blur your vision, sudden and humiliating. you press your palms to your face, shaking your head.
“I thought I was just being dramatic. that if I tried harder—”
“you don’t fix men like that,” toji says evenly. “you either survive them or you leave.”
shiu shifts uncomfortably, scratching the back of his neck. “yeah. and for the record? anyone who makes you feel small for liking skirts is a fucking idiot.”
sukuna snorts softly. “that too.”
you wipe your cheeks, breathing shakily. “what if he doesn't like it and comes looking for me?”
toji leans forward, elbows on the table. “he won’t,” he says. "I won’t allow it."
“and if he tries,” sukuna adds, standing, “he won’t like the reception.”
toji’s gaze softens when it returns to you — just enough to make your chest ache. as soon as your breathing evens out, you can't help but welcome an abrupt thought, sneaking into your mind out of nowhere.
"what kind of job is yours exactly, by the way?" you ask toji. he looks at you.
"don't worry about that. just be a good kid and let me handle this."
a/n: im sorry if this is too long but it just came right off me!!! I'm on the verge of crying for these mtfckrs😭😭😭. they're too cute and megumi is my favourite matchmaker atm. let me know what you think, please be brutally honest!!!!! as always, if you want, you can read the other parts here !
enjoy!!!!!
LIKES, COMMENTS AND REBLOGS ARE ALWAYS APPRECIATED
cw: fluff
11.30pm.
it's not the first time toji stays late at work. he's used to it, so he usually doesn't care that much. but the many updates he received from you during the day make him miss his son more than the usual. and — to be completely honest — he also feels a little left out, because it looked like megumi was having the time of his life. and it was all thanks to you. he quickly texts you to warn you he's going to be home soon and finishes up his work.
once he arrives home, midnight has just passed. he slowly opens the door, careful to avoid any sound that could wake megumi up. he kicks his shoes off and, as soon as he takes off his jacket, his nostrils catch the sweet aroma of the cake you baked and the dinner you cooked. the open space where the kitchen and the living room are is completely silent. and empty. the big lights are switched off, the only low glimmer in the room emanating from the lamp near the couch. he raises his brow, wondering where you could be — then remembers you texted him about cuddling with megumi, so he heads towards the little boy's room.
once he opens the door, he finds megumi's bed still intact — his plushies all lined up seamlessly. no sign of either of you.
at this point, the only plausible option is his own room. toji's room. he carefully avoids the creaky wooden tile just in front of his door, finding it ajar. he lightly pushes it open, only to finally find what he's been looking for since he arrived home. you're lying in the middle of his bed, hair messy on the pillow. megumi is peacefully sleeping on your chest, arms wrapped tightly around you — almost as if he’s afraid you might leave.
toji's chest suddenly tightens into a knot. his heart burning like a wildfire. his shy, reserved son is completely comfortable in your arms. the same child who made him fire six babysitters in the span of three months is now peacefully hugging you, lightly snoring into the crook of your neck.
and you.
the instant he looked into your big eyes, he told himself you were like every other girl your age. but he knew he was only fooling himself. your smile was dangerously magnetic. your energy was dangerously conditioning. too young. too naive. the kind of innocence that made you look at the world as a place where no evil could exist.
he hates himself for it. he hates that feeling, hates the softness in his gaze. and the admiration he feels for you. it doesn’t make sense at all. how’s it possible that a girl he’s just met has this kind of impact on him?
and yet, that’s the problem.
because it doesn’t feel new. it's not a sudden or misplaced feeling. it's like you’ve always been there — like you belong in the quiet space of his life he never meant to share. in his home. in his son’s arms. in his bed. and then he notices it. you're wearing his clothes.
he shouldn’t be thinking about you. about how naturally you fit there, with megumi pressed against your chest like that’s where he’ll only be able to sleep ever again.
he knows he should draw the line. take a step back — walk away from you. a girl who's too untouched by the kind of world he knows too well. he tells himself this is where it ends. this is where it has to end.
yet, he doesn’t move. his legs are like blocks of cement anchored on the floor that keep him in the doorway — watching the steady rise and fall of your breathing and the way megumi’s fingers curl into your shirt. he tells himself he's just checking on his son, just for a moment.
but that moment slowly stretches. and he's painfully aware that walking away now might hurt more than staying.
when he finally gathers the strength to move, he slowly reaches for the blanket folded on the bed, slowly tucking it around megumi, making sure it also covers you. his hand lingers for half a second too long. not on you, but close enough to feel the warmth your body's emanating.
toji exhales softly through his nose. the tight feeling in his chest twisting deeper.
not loud, but still enough to make you stir. your eyes lazily open, still heavy. however, they find him immediately hovering over you. too close.
for a moment, neither of you moves. you're suddenly aware of your surroundings. of the little body cuddling you. your eyes widen.
“oh, god—” you whisper, instinctively shifting, already pushing yourself up on an elbow. “ ’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to— he fell asleep and I didn’t want to wake him and I must’ve—”
toji slightly lifts a hand.
“it’s fine,” he says quietly. he doesn’t look at you when he says it, but your cheeks burn anyway. you glance down at megumi, still fast asleep, mouth parted, lashes resting softly against his cheeks. your hesitate, unsure whether to move him or let him sleep in his father's bed.
“I'm gonna go now,” you murmur. “I didn’t realize how late it was. i didn't even realise I fell asleep.” you slowly move your body towards the edge of the bed, trying your best not to wake peanut up. but you know you've failed when a small sound leaves his throat as he shifts — brows knitting together, fingers tightening in your shirt before you can pull away. his eyes open slowly, landing on you — and his face instantly fills with panic.
“no,” he whispers immediately, little voice trembling. his arms squeeze you tighter, almost desperate. “don’t go.”
you freeze.
toji does too.
“peanut,” you say softly, instinctively softening your voice. “It’s okay. your dad’s home.” you point at him.
megumi shakes his head, burying his face into the crook of your neck again. “please dady,” he mumbles, words slurring with sleep. “I can't sleep if she go”
your chest tightens. you look up at toji, helplessly.
“I—” you open your mouth, then close it. “I really didn’t mean to overstep.”
toji finally looks at you.
at megumi clinging to you. at the way your hand has curled protectively around his back without you even realising it. at the hope on his son’s face.
“it’s fine,” he says. megumi instantly relaxes. a quiet sigh leaves him as he settles back against you, already drifting off again. you hesitate one last second, then sink back into the pillows
“okay,” you whisper. “I’m not going anywhere.”
toji turns away before either of you can see what that image does to him. before he can think too hard about the fact that it took one day — one — for his son to ask someone else to stay the night.
"mr. fushiguro—" you softly murmur. he immediately looks at you. "I left you dinner in the pot on the kitchen table" you continue. his breath hitches. he touches the back of his neck, then carefully heads out.
the slight clanking of plates and cutlery is like a lullaby. your eyes are already closed when toji comes back. he sinks in the chair by the bed, heavy hands rubbing his face. placing his elbows on his knees, he watches over both of you until morning comes —silently protecting you and absolutely incapable of glancing away.
having ryomen sukuna as your boyfriend is like having your own six foot four two hundred thirty pound body guard and you absolutely love it.
“seatbelt.” he’ll say when you hop into the passenger seat of his truck and immediately go to fix your mascara in the mirror instead of ensuring your own safety.
“is your location on?” he’ll ask as you’re actively using his forearm as a support beam to hurriedly slip on a pair of dangerously high heels so you can meet your friends waiting outside.
“when i call ‘n check up on you, you answer, got it? y’know i’ll come find you if you don’t.” he’ll kiss into the crook of your fragrance oiled neck before you leave.
and whenever you’re in public with him you can literally just turn your brain off, because why would you need to think when your boyfriend can do it for you?
like when you’re strolling outside on a summer day, features illuminated gorgeously by the sun’s golden rays. lips freshly glossed and phone held out in front of your face as you try to get the angle right for your selfies. just as you go to snap the picture you distractedly take a step towards the asphalt to cross the street without looking, only to get photobombed by a large hand reaching out, palming your forehead like a basketball and pulling you back onto the sidewalk.
or how about when you’re tugging him through the mall and on your way to your seventh store, your shopping bags laddered up his left arm and your arm looped around his right, dainty finger tips brushing against the slightly raised lines of his tattoos as he follows your lead and listens to you go on and on about whatever the fuck.
and you’re just strutting beside him without a worry in the world in one of those skimpy little skirts he absolutely fucking despises (but paid for anyway) when your lip gloss accidentally slips from between your manicured hands and clatters onto the ground.
as soon as sukuna hears you go ‘oops!’ he’s already stepping behind you to shield your backside from view with his body because you’re bending right over to pick it up without even thinking about who you might flash, or who’s ass he might have to beat for looking too hard. and as the ever yearning man he hates to admit he is, he can’t help but let his head weigh down a bit to selfishly steal a glance at those pretty pink panties you’re wearing and lick his lips at how deliciously they cling to your cunt.
he’s suddenly grateful for your shopping addiction, as he can now use one of your many bags to hide the bulge tightening within his pants as the two of you continue walking. maybe that skirt isn’t so bad, he thinks.
♡ sukuna realizes that he does get jealous after all. . .
series masterlist
sukuna will say this very seriously, he does not get jealous. the emotion itself is beneath him.
that is until yuji coming home from school, jumping in place.
“i made a friend today!!”
“you did?” you ask. “so what are they like?”
“his name’s megumi and he likes dogs and dinosaurs too and he traded me his pudding because i gave him my chocolate!”
yuji keeps talking without stopping.
“and he’s really quiet but he laughed when i scared a pigeon away and megumi said maybe we can go to the park together and can we please please please—”
“ji— okay, okay,” you laugh. “slow down.”
his eyes widen instantly. “really?!”
“if megumi’s dad says yes, sure.”
yuji cheers.
later that week you end up exchanging numbers with megumi’s father after pickup.
toji fushiguro, he introduced himself— pretty tall, scar across his mouth, seems normal enough, though.
the playdate gets set for saturday afternoon, and sukuna seems pretty indifferent to it or at least he pretends to.
“you’re taking yuji to the park?” he asks while scrolling through his phone.
“mhm.”
“so, who’s the kid— or more like, you know their parent?”
“well.. a little?” you say thoughtfully. “toji fushiguro.. i think?”
“…fushiguro?”
you blink. “hm? you know him?”
“used to run in similar circles.” sukuna looks deeply annoyed already. “guy’s a pain in the ass.”
“well.. he seemed nice?”
“that’s because the guy likes pretending.”
you snort. “you’re dramatic, it’ll be fiiine.”
“i’m serious.”
“baby, i’m going to a playground. not a nightclub.”
sukuna looks at you for a long second, then sighs.
“fine, do what you want.”
which, surprisingly, he actually means— he fully intends to let you have your little park day in peace.
because really.. what could happen?
apparently a lot.
because now sukuna’s standing outside a convenience store a few minutes away while staring at his phone with growing irritation.
he just cannot stay at home while knowing you’re out with that damned black-haired man, so he lasts another three minutes before getting back in his car.
meanwhile, you’re sitting at the park bench while yuji and megumi run toward the playground together.
“be careful!” you call after them.
toji sits beside you a second later holding two juice boxes and an iced coffee.
“kid asked me to bring extras,” he says, handing you the iced coffee.
“thanks!”
“don’t mention it.”
for a while it’s easy and comfortable, you talk while the boys play. mostly about school— how both boys have been doing, how megumi apparently refuses to sleep without his stuffed wolf, how yuji always has endless energy no matter what.
“so.. that your kid, right?” toji asks eventually, nodding toward yuji.
you smile. “well no.. but technically my nephew.”
“could’ve fooled me.”
you shrug slightly. “he does feel like my own, though.”
“clearly.”
talking to toji is surprisingly easy, the guys laid back, which is probably why the next thing out of his mouth makes you second guess.
“you single?”
oh..
but before you can even answer, another voice cuts in.
“no, she‘s not.”
you look up immediately.
sukuna stands there behind both of you wearing all black with sunglasses pushed into his hair.
he looks weirdly calm, which means he definitely heard enough to annoy him.
toji glances between both of you once before leaning back slightly.
“oh! what are you doing here?” you say surprised.
“was just getting something to drink.”
“from the park..?”
“eh, crazy coincidence.”
toji snorts quietly beside you— big mistake, because sukuna’s eyes immediately slide toward him.
“fushiguro.”
“ryomen.”
you can absolutely feel the tension in the air.
you look between them slowly. “oh my god.. you actually know each other.”
“unfortunately,” they say at the exact same time.
yuji spots sukuna from across the playground and immediately lights up.
“UNCLE KUNA!!”
he abandons megumi and runs across the grass at full speed before slamming directly into sukuna’s legs.
sukuna just rests a hand on yuji’s head. “now get off me brat, you’re sweaty.”
“we were racing!”
“that so?”
“i won!”
megumi finally walks over, hands shoved into his little pockets.
“yuji cheated..” he says quietly.
“did not!”
“you pushed me!”
you’re trying not to laugh while yuji now clings to sukuna’s arm, and you get up to approach both.
toji watches the interaction for a second, then he looks back at you.
“…damn my bad,” he says finally. “cute little family you got there.”
sukuna goes quiet for a second, then his arm hooks around your waist possessively.
“exactly,” he says. “know where you stand, fushiguro.”
the sun pours over your body as you walk along empty handed with sukuna holding all the bags and beach equipment. baby!yuji patters along on the mildly hot sand, running on levels of adrenaline only a six year old could muster.
the beach is filled with families similar to yours, children playing in the water, people tanning in the deliciously hot sun and rounds of volleyball being tossed around by large friend groups.
sukuna places down your lounging chairs with an attached shaded umbrella, and plops down with all the bags containing various miscellaneous things.
yuji sticks his tongue out slightly, eyes lighting up with mischief and tries to make a beeline for the water before you grab him by the collar.
“no one gets out there without sunscreen” you wave a finger at him, instructing him to settle down.
yuji pouts impatiently swinging his legs while you get out the bottle of kids sunscreen and rub it on every bit of his exposed skin.
your son wrinkles his nose when you reach for his face applying the lotion in soft rhythmic motions. you proceed to pinch his cheeks and give him a little kiss there while yuji giggles.
sukuna watches you fuss over the brat with mild amusement. his eyes squint under the sun, and drop to admire what you’ve got on.
a frilly little thing exposing your beautiful curves.
sukuna scans the area noting any men looking towards your general direction and stares them down with a cutting glare only he could manage. a look that screamed ‘look away before i come dislocate that head myself’ for good measure.
while yuji runs off to play in the sand, you turn to him with the sunscreen bottle in hand and a knowing smile.
“your turn”
sukuna scoffs from where he’s sprawled back in the beach chair, one arm lazily hanging off the side.
“i don’t burn”
“yes you do”
“i literally don’t”
“your nose got pink last time”
his eyes narrow immediately, “it did not.”
“you then complained that it itched and brooded about it the whole time”
“i don’t brood”
you hum ignoring his offense entirely and pat your thighs.
“c’mere”
he stares at you for a long second before clicking his tongue and leaning forward anyway because despite all his dramatics, sukuna has never once denied you when you used that tone on him.
you snort as sukuna settles in front of you. his massive frame blocks the sun completely and he smells like saltwater and heat already despite barely having stepped into the ocean.
you squeeze sunscreen into your palms and rub it across his shoulders.
his muscles flex beneath your hands while you smooth lotion over the dark markings curling along his skin, careful and thorough despite the way he eyes you.
you drag your fingers over his neck and jaw, rubbing sunscreen into the bridge of his nose while he looks deeply inconvenienced by affection.
“look down”
“this is humiliating.”
“look down, so i can get the back of your neck.”
he grumbles under his breath but tilts his chin downward anyway. his previously bored, half lidded eyes, dilate at the sight of your cleavage, right. in. his. face.
how blissful.
yuji bursts into giggles. you had spiked up sukuna’s hair to stand up in a funky way.
“you look funny papa”
sukuna grimaces.
“want me to throw you into the ocean?”
“yeah!”
“…”
you laugh so hard you nearly smear sunscreen into sukuna’s eye.
you take turns, with sukuna now applying sunscreen onto your back.
eventually yuji tears off toward the shoreline with a plastic bucket in hand, sandals abandoned somewhere behind him.
you lean back into your chair with a satisfied sigh while sukuna sits beside you, one arm draped lazily behind your head.
for a while the two of you simply watch.
yuji jumps over tiny waves, yelling triumphantly every single time he successfully crosses one.
he crouches to collect shells with complete seriousness only to abandon them three seconds later because another wave has appeared.
his little laugh carries over the water. your chest feels warm.
“he looks like you when he gets excited,” you murmur, nuzzling against the base of sukuna’s neck.
“poor kid”
you elbow him lightly, “it is cute sukuna, you are cute”
before sukuna can mull over your words, yuji suddenly turns around spotting the two of you immediately.
“papa!! come here!!”
sukuna pretends not to hear,
“papa!!”
you mouth a slight ‘go’ as your husband sighs dramatically before obliging as per usual.
the water reaches just beneath his knees when yuji grabs his hand excitedly and starts dragging him around with all the strength a six year old could possess.
you pad in after them enjoying the waves and the feel of soft sand beneath your bare feet.
you smile to yourself. it is almost absurd seeing sukuna getting ordered around by a child carrying a neon orange shovel.
yuji points toward a lopsided sandcastle near the shore, “help me make it BIGGER” he sticks his arms out to act out how big he wanted it to be.
sitting back down on your chair you try not to look too amused as sukuna crouches down into the sand.
his large hands awkwardly shape wet sand while yuji gives deeply unnecessary instructions beside him.
“more tower”
sukuna looks over at you, pleading for an escape. you wave him off.
“it’s a sandcastle not a fortress” he mutters back.
“more tower” yuji runs about, sometimes gathering sand and sometimes water. most of the time being largely unhelpful.
sukuna clicks his tongue and adds another tower.
hours later the sky begins softening into gold.
yuji’s exhausted enough now to become clingy, dragging his feet through the sand while holding onto sukuna’s hand.
“i need to wash my feet” you brush sand off your legs with a tired groan.
before you can even move, sukuna bends down and scoops you into his arms effortlessly.
you yelp, “kuna—”
he pats you lower thigh,“stop squirming”
people nearby glance over briefly before immediately looking away once sukuna glares in their direction.
you hide your snicker against his shoulder while he carries you toward the rinse station near the boardwalk.
the water runs cool over your feet as he holds you securely against his chest, an arm around your waist like you weigh nothing at all.
yuji stands beside him sleepily rubbing his eyes.
once your feet are clean, sukuna sets you carefully onto the bench.
then without a word, he crouches down.
you blink.
“..what’re you doing?”
he grabs your sandals from beside the bench.
“your feet’ll get dirty again.”
years of loving him and your heart still stutters stupidly.
sukuna slides the sandals onto your feet one by one with mild annoyance etched across his face, but you know better. his love language when it came to you, was acts of service.
meanwhile yuji watches with narrowed eyes, “papa..?”
“what.”
“that’s sooo romantic” he smiles ear to ear.
sukuna immediately flicks water at his forehead.
yuji screeches dramatically while you laugh loud enough that people turn to look again.
“where did he even learn that?” sukuna asks, a mild smile overtaking his usual harsh features.
you shrug, in a dream-like trance, the domesticity of this moment making your heart soar.
and for once, sukuna doesn’t care at all.
firefly; you guys wanted longer fics so hehe i hope this was good
[𝝑𝑒] :: trueform!sukuna has never apologised to anyone, until you came along :: tags. concubine!reader. fluff, angst, suggestive. ‘brat, woman’ used :: wc. 1.8k
sukuna’s never felt the need to apologize. he’s never in the wrong if you ask him. apologising to someone he deems ‘lesser’ would be a sign of weakness.
yet the king of curses always has this secret need to make his favorite concubine feel better after (unintentionally) hurting her.
you’ve got this hold on him that he will never acknowledge. although there are moments where he will indirectly show you that he regrets upsetting you.
it’s a quiet saturday evening and you’re relaxing in your bedchambers after eating dinner. you didn’t go to the dining hall to eat with sukuna and the others. no, you made sure your head lady-in-waiting brought your food to your room.
sukuna and you got into a ‘little’ argument yesterday. you both spent the entire day and night alone instead of in each other’s presence, which is the norm. even the people around you have noticed the growing tension whenever sukuna and you would cross paths.
of course, the other concubines seized the opporunity to vie for sukuna’s attention now that his favored concubine was no longer by his side. yet, their efforts proved in vain.
sukuna had grown more irritable over the past twenty-four hours, his mind relentlessly preoccupied with thoughts of you—a fact that only frustrated him further.
you weren't in the mood to speak with him again, so why did that bother him so much?
it should have made him scoff, made him see you as weak and driven him to demand that you speak to him.
yet all sukuna can think about is how to get you to cling to him once more. as much as he says that it’s exhausting to have a needy 'brat' at his side all the time, your abscence makes him realise he secretly enjoys having you around.
snapping back into your own thoughts, you realise you’ve been staring at your cup of tea for the longest time. you sigh and get up from the table, your feet dragging over the tatami flooring. however a sudden knock on your doors causes you to stop in your tracks.
“come in,” you murmur, thinking it is one of your ladies-in-waiting with your dessert. but the silence that follows afterwards is nearly ominous.
you frown and sigh before going over to the shoji. you slide the screens aside, only to be met by a wall of muscles you know way too well. you tilt your head back and your eyes widen slightly at the sight of the one man you stubbornly refused to talk to.
sukuna looms over you, his massive frame dwarfing your smaller one. he invites himself inside, not waiting on a response from you. he steps into your room and turns around to face you. his dark red eyes narrow as he tries to decipher the emotions playing on your face.
you don’t say a thing. you don’t look at him. you don’t smile at him. you don’t move a muscle. no acknowledgment at all.
sukuna hates it—it’s unusual for you to be so cold. your eyes dart to the floor and your bottom lip subtly forms a defiant pout.
sukuna scoffs. he’s made the decision to break the silence between you two first, coming all the way to your bedchambers to talk. he would never have done such a thing for anyone else—would have waited for them to grovel before him and beg for his forgiveness.
and yet here he is, standing in front of his concubine, ready to confront the issues between them.
he feels pathetic and it angers him from within. he desires to command you to get on your knees and apologise to him, to obey him and forget what happened. however an annoying voice in the back of his head tells him to be patient with you.
“tch, what’s with the face?” sukuna's deep and commanding voice fills the spacious room. he doesn't go about it the gentle way—he’s still him after all. “y’re still sulking about that little thing? i thought i told ya to stop thinkin’ about it.”
hearing sukuna say the latter makes your heart ache and your eyes water from frustration. everything seems like it’s not a big deal to him—even when you’re clearly upset.
“that was not just a little thing, my lord!” you raise your voice just a little, surprising yourself as the words tumble out of your mouth before you can stop them.
you swallow thickly and bite your lip. you've done it now, the thought echoes inside your head.
sukuna’s eyebrows raise in surprise at your outburst, not used to you raising your voice to him like that. although in an instant, his eyes flash with something dangerous. you may be his favorite and he may let you get away with a lot of things, yet there are boundaries. rules that even you must obey.
the king of curses would probably find it amusing to see you snap back at him, thinking you will achieve something with that, but today is not one of those days.
the shimmering tension between you two has agitated him more than ever.
sukuna closes the distance between you two and reaches out to grab you by our jaw. his fingers curl tightly beneath your chin and force your head to turn, making you face him.
“you dare raise your voice at me, woman?” sukuna growls, his face mere inches from yours.
his grip borders on painful and you wince at the ache in your jaw. he doesn’t let go and instead tightens his hold, “i don't have time for this fuckin' nonsense.”
sukuna releases you with a light shove. he takes a deep breath to try and calm down, to remind himself that he came her to clear things up. but it’s difficult because he’s never had to do this before. never had to listen to someone else, always expecting them to simply endure and move on whenever he caused harm.
you stumble a bit, rubbing at the your chin. you don’t get it; is sukuna here to make it worse for you? to rub it in? to remind you again of what he said to upset you? to make fun of you for being upset about it?
it certainly does hurt.
you replay that moment again in your head. the moment when sukuna told you he could replace you with someone else whenever he desires. it is a fact; sukuna can do that whenever he pleases. but it stung to hear him say it so explicitly. to hear him say it to your face, as if that doesn't already keep you awake at night.
little did you know, sukuna didn’t mean to hurt you too much with that comment. he didn’t expect you to ignore him, to avoid him, all because of what he said. he simply said it because he was struggling with his own emotions—denying that he feels anything for you. he said it to remind himself that he isn’t getting attached to a human.
but that failed terribly. seeing you like this—your teary eyes glaring up at him with fear, hurt and betrayal made him feel an uncomfortable pang in his chest. something that resembled guilt.
“have a good night then, my lord,” you dismiss sukuna and turn away, your voice strained with emotion. you don’t want to start another argument with him.
the king of curses grits his teeth. there it goes again. ‘my lord’ — yes, it’s what most others call him, but not you. you always called him by nicknames he deemed foolish. ‘kuna, ry’ or even ‘dear’. he strangely longs to hear your voice call him as such again.
sukuna stands there, trying to reign in his anger and other overwhelming emotions. he grabs your wrist and tugs you back to him, making you stumble and catch yourself against his chiseled chest.
he doesn’t know what to say—doesn’t trust himself to speak. he knows he’ll make it worse by speaking, knows he’ll rile you up even more. thus he chooses not to utter a word for a moment.
your eyes meet and you’re surprised when sukuna leans down to catch your lips in a kiss. your hands fist into the collar of his kimono, your mind telling you to back off. this man is dangerous—playing with your emotions like this.
telling you one thing, but contradicting himself with his actions. it’s extremely confusing yet also exhilarating.
you close your eyes and respond to his kiss with equal fervor. the pink-haired man groans against your lips, swiping his tongue over your bottom lip before biting on it. a habit of his.
sukuna’s large hands roam over your body as he presses you as close to him as possible. it’s like he’s reassuring you with his touch—melting away all your worries. it’s a manipulative tactic that somehow always gets you. or perhaps it’s just his way of apologising.
which of the two it is, will always be vague and unknown.
eventually, he pulls away, leaving you both breathless. you stare up at him with a huff before glancing the other way. you’re still sulking, still pouting.
sukuna rolls his eyes and easily lifts your body up into his arms. two of his hands settle on the back of your thighs, the other two grazing the side of your breast and waist. he carries you over to your bed and sits on the edge with you on his lap.
“y’re a fool,” sukuna clicks his tongue. his fingers slither up the exposed skin of your arm and against your cheek to flick your forehead. he gains a whimper from you which urges him to do it again.
you frown and rub at the tingly skin on your head. your eyes are still watery, lashes clumped together due to your tears. it’s almost cute. almost.
“and you look pathetic,” the man in front of you adds with a condescending smirk.
you weakly smack sukuna’s chest, making his grin widen. there you go—there is the woman he knows, slowly making a comeback. slowly warming up to him again. slowly being playful with him once more.
sukuna sighs. to you, it may seem like a tired sigh, but in reality it’s a sigh of relief. he may not have solved this issue between you two in a normal, healthy way, but it worked out anyway.
“you’re mean,” your comment breaks the moment of silence.
your bottom lip trembles and you look like you might just cry it all out. the frustration, the fear, the hurt, the relief—it’s overwhelming.
sukuna inhales briefly. he doesn’t respond to your little remark, instead, he holds the back of your head and presses your face into his chest. he holds your body against him, nestled warmly between his muscular arms.
you don’t protest at all. you close your eyes and breathe in his familiar scent, nuzzling your nose into his pecs. you know this is his way of making you feel betted so you will not complain.
an apology will never leave the prideful man's lips and you’ve come to accept it. this way of reassuring you counts as something at the very least.
it doesn’t matter who or what gets between you two, at the end of the day, you’ll find each other again. one way or another.
nerdjo’s high maintenance gf is his prettiest distraction !
I. DISTRACTION #1: NO KISSING IN THE LECTURE HALLS !
time: 8:46 am location: Curtis Lecture Hall I (CLH-I)
gojo satoru is typing one handed because his other hand is pressed between your thighs.
not that he minds. 8AM thursday means excel sheets & a cup of hot coffee to keep his bleary eyes open. gojo satoru is trying—trying to focus, but his pretty girl is talking a mile a minute and he’ll be damned if he didn’t reply to your every word.
“it was so hard getting out of bed today, toru,” you pout up at him, chin on his shoulder & gloss sticky on his sleeve. “i told kento to stop by and wake me up on his way to class. can you believe he didn’t?”
“i’m very proud of you for getting out of bed regardless.”
“thank you. it was very hard.”
you sigh against his shoulder. “he’s probably still mad i cussed him out,” you huff, reaching up to twirl the hairs on his nape. “all because i put him on cherry crush and he tried to act like he discovered it first.”
satoru’s eyes are still on his screen, so you squeeze his palm between your thighs to bring him back to you. “he’s so petty, toru.”
“very petty, baby.”
you frown. it’s been exactly thirteen minutes and forty-two seconds since satoru looked at you last. he’s been on this stupid spreadsheet since class started, and it’s really starting to piss you off.
so you block his view.
“look at my fingers, toru,” you breathe, lifting your hand in front of his face. “i was in such a rush i forgot my rings. my hand looks so ugly.”
he lifts his head—just slightly, just enough that he can focus on the screen & not your hand in front of him—& replies without a beat. “looks pretty, baby,” he murmurs, kissing the back of your hand. “so gorgeous.”
oh, that’s enough.
“toru.”
“hm, baby?”
“kiss me.”
gojo satoru chokes on his tongue. he freezes, blue eyes leaving the screen only to dart around the crowded lecture hall in alarm. he lets his eyes drop to you, and perhaps he shouldn’t have, because you’re looking up at him with glossy lips & too-big eyes & lashes that flutter in that way that means trouble. gojo gulps.
“we can’t do that right now, sweetheart,” his voice catches. you’re pouting up at him but satoru only cups your cheek and tries to reason with you. “we’re in public. can you wait for me, angel?”
your brows furrow, lips wobbling into that pout that only spells out gojo’s demise.
“are you ashamed to kiss me in public?” you croak, fake sniffling. “am i that ugly?”
you’re not ugly. you’re the most beautiful girl in the world, you know it, satoru knows it, & he also knows you’re doing this on purpose. but your eyes are so glossy. your breathing’s all hitched. your shoulders shake like you’re about to sob—
gojo satoru folds under zero pressure.
he cups your face, thumb brushing faux tears off your lashes as he presses his lips to yours. you taste like strawberry candy & something too sweet to have a name. gojo sighs into your mouth. cocks his head. pulls back just to lean in again when your lashes flutter up at him all pretty. he lets his thumb tug your lip and tongue lick your teeth and—
“ahem.”
you both freeze.
in the row in front of you the nanami kento is there, frown on his face & completely unamused. there are pens littered on his desk & his laptop is wide open—is he reading semantic error?
he eyes you both, lips curled in disgust.
“this is not a love nest.”
you & satoru are blinking in disbelief when nanami turns back to his laptop. he slams it shut in embarrassment when he’s met with an inappropriate panel onscreen.
II. DISTRACTION #2: NETWORKING ❌ NOT WORKING ✅
time: 7:14 pm. location: Bergeron Center for Engineering Excellence
⎚-⎚
gojo satoru has five minutes until the most important meeting of his life.
an opportunity to pitch one of his latest projects to some high-class engineering recruiters—lucky him! he’s in a private office with his speech in his hands, and his beautiful girlfriend kicking her feet on the office table.
you’re supposed to be his supportive plus-one. and gojo does feel supported—how could he not when the love of his life is here for him, dressed up like a midsummer dream? but gojo thinks he’d feel even more supported if you weren’t bracketing his thighs & tugging on his tie every time he tries to speak.
“thank you all for coming. i’m honored to have this opportunity—“
“satoruu,” you coo. “i miss you.”
gojo satoru knows better than to sigh. he does it anyway, collapsing into your neck in resignation as he squeezes your hips. you’re pressing a glossy kiss to his jaw. “i’m right here, sweetheart,” he mumbles, closing his eyes. “will you let me focus?”
you nod sweetly, patting his cheek dismissively when he presses a kiss to your neck in thanks.
“thank you all for coming. i’m honored to have this opportunity to present—“
“satoruu,”
thirteen words this time. fairs.
“yes, sweetheart.”
“my feet hurt,” you state, kicking your feet up to show him. for once, you’re not being totally dramatic. even with your heels on satoru can see the sides of your feet reddening, flushed & slightly swollen against the material. his brows furrow. “how’d this happen, angel…?”
he kneels down to slip your heels off. you pout: “i got new heels so i’d look pretty for your presentation. now my feet hurt and i’ve ruined everything.”
satoru frowns, but you’re still spiraling. dramatic as always, talking like it’s the end of the world with your eyes glossy & nose wrinkled in lament. but gojo’s heart only goes sticky in his chest. how could you possibly ruin everything when you are everything?
he reaches up to wipe a tear off your cheek. “look at me, baby,” he murmurs, other hand rubbing circles on your ankles. he looks devastating like this—hair messy, tie loose from all your tugging & knees on the floor for you even though he’s in his finest dress pants. “you didn’t ruin anything, okay baby? look.”
he slips off your heels, then his own leather shoes, & laces them onto your bare feet. “wear these.”
you blink as he lifts you off the table, kneeling back down to adjust the shoes better. you wiggle your toes. your feet don’t even reach the middle, and you almost fall trying to walk two steps, but the gesture alone has you beaming. you turn to him with your lips bent in a clumsy smile.
“they’re huge, toru,” you tease, twirling around for him to watch. satoru only smiles. his heart goes sticky in his throat. he pulls you into a soft kiss because trying to speak might make his chest hurt.
knock knock.
one of satoru’s classmates—nerd #1—peeks his head in, expression slightly terrified. “uh, gojo? they’re ready for you in the boardroom,” he gulps. “you’re up.”
satoru nods, gathers his speech papers. you’re practicing walking around in his shoes now, arms stretched out to help you balance as you strut around with a grin on your face. gojo satoru looks down at his feet. they’re in nothing but a pair of socks.
right.
he sucks in a breath, then turns to kiss your forehead. “stay here where it’s warm, okay?”
you’re still admiring yourself in his shoes, but you chirp out an okay! regardless. satoru bites his lip. it’s showtime.
——
the faculty is looking at satoru like he’s grown two heads.
have they never seen a shoeless man before? how rude. he’s standing on the boardroom’s stage now, clipboard in hand, projector lighting up the board behind him. some of the recruiters are nodding. the others are trying not to look at his feet so they can’t be accused of classism. gojo satoru is not even poor. a glance at his suit should tell you that.
but gojo doesn’t care. he presents without issue—even though the entire time, his mind is on you.
the boardroom door has a center made of glass. through the pane, satoru can see you back in the office—you’ve somehow found music controls for the office’s boombox, and you’re dancing—oh god, you’re dancing—twirling around with a clumsy smile & laughing when you stumble in his much larger shoes.
satoru’s heart swells. his lip twitches.
gojo turns his focus back to his presentation. he’ll work hard to keep you smiling for the rest of your life.
III. DISTRACTION #3 : WHY IS MY GIRLFRIEND IMMUNE TO TUTORING…
time: 6:14 PM location: The Quad, Satoru’s Apartment.
⎚-⎚
“who discovered the americas ?”
“Martin Luther King.”
You are going to fail this exam.
“that’s enough general history today,” gojo mutters, voice croaking in alarm when you give your answer. you’re tucked in his lap, fingers curled in his collar, nose in his neck & completely unbothered. your perfume is sticky in his lungs. “let’s try math. you like math, baby?”
“mhm,” you kiss his jaw. “love it.”
no you don’t. gojo flips open a book with one hand, the other rubbing circles on your thigh. “let’s practice some integration…” he scans the page for questions while you twirl the hairs on his nape. “okay, this one. can you try this for me, princess?”
your lips tug into a bored frown. “okay,” you lean up to glance at the page, “done.”
he blinks, “done?”
“yes,” you flop back against him, soft & pretty & tired & his. “i solved it in my head.”
satoru bites his lip, brows knit in concern. “baby, you can’t solve integrals in your head.”
“i have a very strong brain.”
satoru prays for some strength of his own. okay—okay. he purses his lip. “so strong, baby. do you want to walk me through your process?”
you frown in his neck.
“first of all,” you tug his collar, lashes fluttering, “i looked at the numbers.”
“good job.”
“then,” you tug his earlobe, “i got bored.”
“oh.”
satoru sighs—of course you did. he purses his lip, blue eyes flitting across the page as his spoiled pretty angel hugs his neck; dreary and tired and ‘bored’ in his lap. finals are coming up and things are not looking good for you. he prays for strength (again).
you seem to have found some strength of your own. gojo’s not sure when you pick up your phone (which he had confiscated from you earlier), but while he stares into the distance and laments your guaranteed failure, you scroll through your phone with a grin on your lips.
“toru, look at this bag,” you coo, pushing the bright screen to his face. “it’s so pink and pretty, just like me.”
“just like you,” he repeats, still staring into the distance.
“wow, nine-hundred-and-fifty dollars,” you kick your feet in his lap. “baby, can i buy it?” you coo, voice sweet.
satoru blinks out of his daze. he glances at the phone screen—then at you, suddenly sweet & bright & brimming with energy. his thumb brushes your inner thigh. “baby, you’re supposed to be studying.”
“i am studying,” you frown, and gojo wants to kiss it off again. “i’m studying consumer behavior. can i have your card?”
there are three reasons gojo satoru should not give you his card.
you are going to fail your exams.
you haven’t double-checked if the price is in CAD or USD.
you are going to fail your exams.
gojo lets you have his card.
you squeal, hopping off his lap to retrieve his wallet in the other room. satoru leans back against his desk chair. in front of him, his desk is a mess of opened books & littered pencils, a ‘get good grades!’ subliminal playing on your mini speaker because you insisted the whispered affirmations would guarantee your success. gojo sighs.
“thank you, toru!” you sing as you pad back into the room, a skip in your step. you lean down to kiss his cheek & flop onto his bed to open his laptop. you have his wallet in your hands, and gojo satoru already knows you will not double check the currency.
gojo closes your textbook with a sigh. better luck next time.
ac: (see alt text!) @ to00fu
DISTRACTIONS, end.
HEARTKAJI. do not steal, copy, edit, translate or reupload.
