CONSTANT CONFLICTION

This blog is a collection of all the things I can find about whatever its that I love at the moment. Hi! She/her | 27 | ENFP

[astrwww]

𝜗ৎ Nanami Kento fingering you in a crowded train

cw. mature content

Seeing your husband after work in his usual tight fitted navy blue shirt, his leopard print tie hanging low as he walked towards you. Today nanami had a work party and it was very unusual for you to get a call from his colleagues that he had gotten quite wasted. That's what had made you go and pick him up, you smiled brightly up at your husband as you saw his sunken eyes softened.

"Hello darling, thank you f'coming, I missed you terribly." He slurred a litte, walking closer to you as he leaned down and captured your lips. "Missed you too ken! Never thought I'd see my hubby get so wasted!" You giggled against his lips, staring up into his pretty brown eyes, "c'mon let's go!" You tugged at his hand, gripping it as you both started to walk towards the train station as you rambled about your day, Nanami smiled as you talked his ear off, he loved listening to what happened in his sweet girl's day.

The train station was very crowded as you both arrived at the platform, people getting on the last train home after working overtime or after getting wasted just like your husband. You both made it on the train, thanks to your husband's intimidating frame that made people in his way part through. Kento guided you until you both were tucked away in a corner, your back to a train door's with him standing infront of you, shielding you from everyone else.

His large hand planted firmly beside your head as he stared down at you with a small smile, his other hand tucked your hair behind your ear as he admired your beauty, "You look amazing, sweetheart" You smiled in response, fixing his tie as your eyes dropped down. The way his shirt stretched over his muscular chest, the suspenders taut over his pecs as you blinked with a sigh.

Being the brat you were, your hand placed on his arm, staring at the way his thick veiny bicep thrummed beneath your fingers. Your hand traveled to his chest, lightly squeezing his pec as you smirked up at him, watching as kento's eyes widened in warning, "Don't." He whispered, his jaw clenching as you grew bold and slipped your hand down his hard abdomen to rest directly on the bulge in his pants. "Don't what?" You played innocent, loving the way you were riling him up in a public transport.

Kento gritted his teeth, his hand clenching beside your head while the other grabbed your waist, pressing you firmly against the cool train wall. "Don't.. touch me, love." He leaned down, grunting low in your ear, making sure only you could hear him in the sea of people. But you ignored his warning and squeezed his crotch once again, your eyes watching as his slacks tightened, his cock growing hard in your hand.

"Fuck." He cursed low in his throat, he turned his head to look around him, tired people buried in their phones or having their eyes closed half asleep. His mind reeled as he thought rationally, can he fuck you here? Would these people notice? And maybe it was the beer he had drank that made his mind hazy that made him grip your wrist that was on his cock and pinned it down before his other hand slipped under your skirt, lifting it but making sure nobody else could see you.

You gasped a little, you didn't think that he would touch you right between the sea of people on a crowded train but guess everyone has a hidden sight. Your thoughts were cut short as kento's large hand delicately ran over the fabric of your cotton panties, his finger finding the tiny bump of your clit. He couldn't help but press onto it, the corner of his mouth lifting into a small smirk as you let out a tiny whimper.

Your right hand was still pinned under kento's left as he worked expertly on your little clit, touching the bud sore through the flimsy fabric. "K- Ken.." you whispered out, you weren't sure what you wanted, did you want him to continue? To stop? Did you want to secretly cum in a crowded train? "Don't even dare stop me hon— you started this." Oh, fuck. He pinched the buttony pearl before two of his fingers slipped past the fabric and right in your slick cunt.

His fingers curled right into that slightly goey spot, pressing hard before pulling his fingers back fully and thrusting them in again, your pussy squelched but not loud enough for the tired man beside you both to hear. Kento smirked as he pushed them inside again, making you grip onto his forearm as you bit his collarbone peeking out from underneath his shirt to muffle any sweet noise you'd let out.

Your eyes rolled back at the way your husband was roughly teasing you out in public, just the feel of his rough fingers pumping in your plump cunt had you shaking in the knees. "K- Kento, pleaseee!" You whined out near his ear, hiding your face in his chest, "Please what darling? Be a big girl and use your words." He chuckled, the hazy look still in his eyes as his fingers pressed harder on your spot while his thumb pressed down upon your clit. It was as if his fingers were trying to feel themselves through the soft skin of your pussy.

"Nooo- stoopp! Fuck, stop teasing me!!" You nearly screamed with how good his fingers felt if it hadn't been for your husband's large hand, covering your mouth while the other sped up inside of you, thrusting deeply as you panted against his palm, your pussy clenching tightly around his fingers as your eyes opened and you could see the hungry look that glinted in your husband's eyes. He let out a soft groan, "There ya go baby, good girl. Cum all over my fingers, let everyone know who you belong to."

He chuckled as your release soaked his fingers, dripping down to his hand and pattering on his watch. "You okay hon?" He whispered, pulling out his hand as he licked them clean, making you blush, "Ohmygod ken!!" "What? I'm not someone who waste's honey, you know that and can't waste my sweet wife now, can I?" He chuckled with a smirk, his free hand pushing out your hair from your face as he helped you adjust your skirt.

"Do you think anyone noticed??" You asked him, looking around the packed train, hopefully everyone was way too tired to even care but as you were about to look away, your eyes met with a particular big looking raven haired man. He was across the train, leaning against the automatic doors with his buff, muscular arms crossed as he smirked at you, highlighting the scar down the side of his lips. He held up one of his hand, just enough for you to see and curled them in a O before his other hand, pumped fingers through the gap, making the crude gesture very clear.

"Oh fuck."

𐚁 i'm a slut for reblogs and comments so plz give it to me :D it's not proofread so plz ignore mistakes

[suksatoru]

—mrs. steal your girl!

sukuna was used to getting hit on. normally, he flat out rejects anyone that even makes an attempt to flirt with him. tonight he's taken you on one of your usual date nights, but imagine his surprise when the woman who approaches your table is hitting on you instead of him!

"ryo. ryo, ryo, ryo, i don't know what to get!" you pout, extending a leg underneath the table to graze your husband's calf as he grunts, brows pinched together in concentration as he stares down at the menu

"doesn't matter. i'm ordering half the stuff they have here anyway... you hungry for dessert too?" he questions, and you give him a deadpan look before he dramatically rolls his eyes, eliciting a giggle from you that has the corner of his mouth tipping upwards in a smirk

"fatty," he murmurs, and you make a point to dig the tip of your heel into his shoe, yet even through the pain, he maintains that annoying grin, and you shake your head with a laugh

the restaurant sukuna chose to take you out to tonight was located on the outer edges of the city near the water. your seating is overlooking the ocean, and you're not sure where you should stare—either at the lapping waves shimmering underneath the sparkling sun, or at your husband (an equally irresistible sight). he's wearing a tight black shirt with the first few buttons open, revealing the intricate details of his tattoos and the large expanse of his muscles and chest

a waitress eventually approaches your table. she's pretty—tall, lean, and wearing a dark red lipstick that suits her well—and you feel your heart sink a bit. you're sure she was staring at your table earlier, and you'd already assumed she was keeping an eye out on sukuna. almost subconsciously, you sit a little taller in your chair as she greets you two

"hello! i hope you guys are doing well. what can i get started?" she starts in an extra sweet voice, and you avoid her eyes and instead drum a single manicured finger against the table to distract yourself

you know you have nothing to feel insecure about, but anyone would feel a bit down if attractive women were constantly hitting on their husband, right?

without looking up, sukuna starts

"i'll have a plate of crab cakes, four fish tacos, one chicken marsala, one miso marinated black cob, two fettuccini pastas, one lobster ravioli, and one lava cake—and the center of it better not be undercooked. my wife doesn't like whenever it happens and i want her dessert to be nothing short of perfection." sukuna finishes, and the waitress looks genuinely distressed as she quickly jots down everything he said

"uhm, and all that is for just the two of you?" she questions hesitantly, and sukuna's gaze snaps up with a scowl

"yeah. and?"

you try to stifle your laughter as she quickly shakes her head with a smile, still writing everything down. your husband was... a bit of a big eater.

"no, no, i was just wondering— oh. did you say wife?" she frowns, and you try not to wince at twinge of disappointment in her voice

"if you were thinking i'm single, you're out of luck." sukuna states boldly, not bothering to give her any further attention as he folds up the menu and hands it to her

"uhm... i wasn't wondering about you. i was wondering about you." — and suddenly her gaze is pinned on you, and your eyes widen a fraction

"me?" you squeak in disbelief, and she smirks. it's cocky and slanted and it instantly reminds you of your husband's habit when he's teasing you, and you can't even try to hide the smile on your face as you cover it with your hand, caught off gaurd and embarrassed

"yes, you. you are beautiful. so, are you happily married to this guy, or just marri—"

"that's enough." sukuna stammers, and he looks genuinely mortified by the look of curiosity on your face. you giggle, shaking your head

"thank you... you're very beautiful too." you smile, and she actually blushes at your words, telling you she'll be out with your food soon as she walks back inside the restaurant with a lot more pep in her step than before

sukuna reaches over to pull your hand out of your lap and onto the table, and he adjusts your ring with furrowed brows as you giggle

"ryo—"

"i can't believe that woman's audacity—hitting on my wife! when i get home, i am writing the most deplorable review of this restaurant." he snaps as you let out a sudden laugh

"don't be silly, you big grump! she was nice," you smile, and he drags a hand down his face as if this was the worst day of his entire life.

sukuna wasn't used to women hitting on you. no man ever tried because all six feet of your husband was always looming behind you like a guard dog just waiting to rip someone's head off for looking at you too long, but he never suspected he had to look out for women too!

his brows are furrowed as he rubs a thumb over the diamond on your ring finger, and your gaze softens before you cradle his own larger hand in your own and press a kiss onto his knuckles. he blinks at you a few times before turning away with a huff, the tips of his ears a light shade of pink

"you're mine. you'll never indulge in anyone that tries anything with you, right?" he murmurs, still staring at your interlocked hands as you pout

"of course not." you promise gently, and he seems satisfied by your response as he holds your hand firmly in his own

after a moment of thought, he opens his mouth once again

"do you think we should make out to confirm our status for everyone else here?"

"ryo!"

[shibuyafiles]

ryōmen sukuna has a clingy s/o.

genre: fluff / comfort

the king of curses mutilates people for less than any of the things you do to him on a daily basis.

walking into the room to inform him of the latest update on the warfront, uraume decides they have certainly witnessed more compromising states than this.

they bow down before the king of curses, who is currently lounging on his throne with you draped over his shoulders—like some human mink coat or a sentient scarf of sorts, snoring softly into his unkempt hair.

“lord sukuna.” they rise and address him, tone within the emotional range of a stone.

“speak.”

“...i can return later.”

“no, report.”

uraume’s eyes divert to the snuffling form of you for exactly half a second, a monumental display of curiosity for the permafrost-carved servant. they begin their report, speaking in their usual monotone intonation, but sukuna catches note of the way their eyes keep drifting upward.

“what.”

“nothing, my lord.” uraume meets his four eyes, choosing the addition of words with care. “it’s just... interesting, to see you so—”

“watch your mouth before i slice it off.”

“accommodating.” uraume finishes, deadpan, because they've served him long enough to know when he’s all bark.

sukuna's upper set of eyes narrows, but the lower pair flicks upward—toward your head, where your exhales stir the fine strands of his light crimson hair.

“i am going to flay you,” he says, deeply flat.

burrowed so deep into the crook of his neck, sukuna feels the damp warmth of your huff against him like a warm parasite that had somehow convinced itself the king of curses is a personal mattress. your previously limp hand curls into the fabric of his dark kimono, loosely holding on to a fistful of the silk robe as you exhale harder into his thick neck.

uraume's eyebrow twitches, a fraction of a millimeter—practically a scream of emotion from them.

“finish the report,” sukuna growls, low enough that it vibrates through his wide chest—and through you, because you're plastered to his body like a second skin. you stir, mumble something unintelligible, and he stills again.

uraume continues, detailing the skirmish in various territories, relaying information on sorcerers who think they could exorcise a fragment of their lord’s power. standard fare and utterly boring, sukuna only half-listens. the other half of his attention tuned into the way your breath starts to even out again, deep and slow, weight becoming heavier against him—fully asleep and dead to the world, completely vulnerable in the lap of the most deadly being in existence.

reckless, sukuna thinks. how idiotic.

his lower left arm moves, the rough hand settling against the small of your back, steadying you as you slip dangerously close to sliding off his shoulder.

he adjusts without thinking—tugging you close against him, rearranging your limbs so you lay across his lap instead.

uraume stops mid-sentence.

“continue.” sukuna snaps.

“the latest front has been... largely pacified.” uraume’s voice is perfectly measured. their eyes are not—intrigued gaze fixing on the way sukuna’s thumb traces an absent circle against your spine. “we anticipate the remaining forces will mobilize. shall I—”

“no.”

uraume continues theorizing as sukuna's second mouth, the one on his stomach, lets out this tiny rumble—not quite a growl, nor a purr. something in between. something possessive.

he cuts uraume off without looking away.

“speak quieter.”

“very well.”

silence engulfs the quarters. uraume remains perfectly still, head bowed, waiting for the inevitable command to execute the upcoming massacres. the only sound is the rhythmic, maddeningly peaceful puff of oxygen against sukuna’s skin.

your hand finds one of his in your sleep, palm curling against two of his fingers. he stares at your grasp like it offends him.

"i am going to kill the rest," sukuna announces.

uraume nods, faint and brief.

“in the morning.”

“naturally.”

“when they’re awake.”

“i’m sure they’ll be devastated.”

sukuna’s eye twitches. he could kill uraume. he won't. but he could.

then you sigh in your sleep—soft, contented—and press a kiss to the inside of his wrist, right over his pulse point, where the skin is thinner and no one has ever been dumb enough to put their mouth.

sukuna’s grip tightens around yours, his chest tightening. he grits his teeth.

“uraume.”

they perk up.

“find a blanket.”

uraume blinks, most expressive they've been in decades. “...a blanket.”

“you heard me.”

“of course, lord Sukuna.” they bow, and sukuna picks up on the hint of a smile his servant holds off.

the sliding doors shut behind uraume.

then sukuna is alone. with you, your breath—the hands, tiny compared to his, enveloped in his, and the infuriating, tight heat spreading through his torso.

a curse user who has unraveled sorcerers from the inside out, yet he cannot bring himself to move.

[erenlav]

just satoru being needy

satoru had always been greedy with you.

but not in the loud, demanding sort of way. in the quiet moments. the ones hidden beneath tangled sheets and sleepy mornings, when it felt like you were the only ones in the world.

he gathered you against him before you could drift too far away, an arm draped lazily over your waist as if it belonged there. his thumb traced absent circles through the fabric of your shirt, never still for long. every few moments another kiss found you. your shoulder. your jaw. the corner of your mouth. your forehead. no exact destination in mind, only the simple need to feel you beneath his lips.

and he never really seemed to get tired of it. 

your warmth. your skin. the familiar weight of you tucked against his chest. it was as if every touch answered a question no one else could hear.

his nose brushed against your ear. another kiss on your warm cheek. then another, softer than the last.

you smiled before you even realized you were doing it.

because somehow after all this time, satoru still loved you like he was afraid love had an expiration date. like if he didn’t pour every ounce of his love into you now, he’d never get another chance.

so he held you a little closer. kissed you one more time. and then another. until he was satisfied enough.

a/n: rlly short bc i dont have any motivation to write after getting accused of using ai :)

[satolune]

─── 𑣲⋆ TWENTY WAYS to make a nerd yours ⊹ ࣪ ˖

୧ ‧₊˚ a guide to making 𝓖.𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 yours ♡

꒰ 𓏲๋࣭࣪˖🌷.ᐟ Satoru Gojo is the loudest, prettiest boy on campus — and secretly the biggest nerd you've ever met. You make a list of twenty ways to make him yours. It works better than expected. ꒱

ᘛ ꒰ satoru gojo x reader | university au | fluff, crack-ish, mutual pining, 3.4k wc. no real warning, this is pure fluff. art by @/to00fu dividers by @uzmacchiato and @pixopix ྀིა

Gojo Satoru did not look like a nerd. That was the first thing you had to get past.

He was six-foot-three, white hair that looked like he'd bleached it out of spite, and a jawline that made underclassmen forget how to walk in straight lines. So the first time you sat next to him in Intro to Theoretical Physics and watched him correct the TA's derivation on the whiteboard— politely, cheerfully, in a way that made the TA visibly reconsider their choice of career— you assumed it was a fluke. A pretty boy who got lucky on one problem set.

It was not a fluke. It happened every single week.

By week four you knew: underneath the sunglasses he wore indoors "for the bit," underneath the easy charm and the way he called everyone "sweetheart" like it cost him nothing, Gojo was the single biggest nerd you had ever met in your life. He annotated his textbooks in four colors. He had a ranked opinion on which university library floor had the best "ambient silence." He once spent twenty minutes explaining the Fermi paradox to a girl at a party who had asked him, literally, where the bathroom was.

And somehow, against every instinct you had about self-preservation, you'd fallen for him anyway.

The problem was that Gojo Satoru was completely, catastrophically oblivious to the fact that you liked him. Not because he was dumb— the man had a 4.0 and could recite pi to sixty digits when he was nervous— but because emotional self-awareness was, apparently, the one subject he'd never taken.

So you did what any reasonable person would do. You made a list.

Not a real list, not at first— just something you texted your roommate at 1 a.m. after he'd walked you back to your dorm and then said "anyway, goodnight, study buddy!" like a golden retriever who'd just learned the word "goodnight." But it grew. Item by item, week by week, you built yourself a plan. A syllabus, if you wanted to be annoying about it. A plan for how to make a nerd— your nerd, if you had anything to say about it– fall for you back.

Here's what the list looked like, three weeks later, mostly executed and slightly out of order:

1. Ask him to explain something you already understand

Not because you need it explained. Because Gojo lights up like a Christmas tree the second someone asks him a real question, and there is nothing in this world cuter than a six-foot-three man drawing a diagram of quantum entanglement on a napkin at 9 p.m. because you asked "wait, but how does that actually work?" He'll talk for eleven minutes straight. You will not understand half of it. You will not care.

2. Bring him coffee exactly the way he takes it, without asking.

Oat milk, two sugars, and— this is important— he needs it slightly too hot, because he likes complaining that it burned his tongue and then drinking it anyway. The first time you showed up to your study session with his order memorized, he stared at the cup for a solid five seconds like you'd handed him a diamond instead of a four-dollar latte.

"You remembered," he said, and for once he didn't sound like he was performing anything.

"It's not that hard, Satoru."

"No," he agreed, still staring at the cup. "I guess it's not."

3. Steal his hoodie and never give it back.

This one is less a strategy and more just theft, but the effect is the same. You took it during a group project when the library air conditioning decided finals week was a personal vendetta, and you simply forgot to return it. He noticed. He did not ask for it back. He instead started "accidentally" leaving other sweaters at your dorm, like he was building a small collection of hostages in reverse.

4. Beat him at something. Anything.

Gojo has never lost gracefully in his life. He is aggressively, hilariously competitive about things that do not matter, like Mario Kart, or who can name more moons of Saturn, or whose flashcards are better organized. Beat him once— just once— and watch a switch flip behind his eyes. He will demand a rematch. He will demand several rematches. He will, three rematches later, forget that he is supposed to be trying to win and just start trying to make you laugh instead.

5. Notice the thing he's insecure about, and don't make a big deal of it.

Underneath the confidence, Gojo has Opinions about his own eyes— the pale blue, the way people stare, the way strangers sometimes ask invasive questions like he's a museum exhibit. You noticed early that the sunglasses weren't entirely a bit. So you never once commented on his eyes unless it was in passing, the same way you'd mention someone's nice handwriting. Ordinary. Unremarkable. Just a fact about him, not a headline.

He clocked that you'd clocked it. He didn't say anything. But he started taking the glasses off around you more.

6. Let him info-dump. Then remember what he said.

Two weeks after the Fermi paradox incident, you asked him— out of nowhere, mid-lecture— "okay but statistically, if the paradox holds, doesn't that actually support the idea that we're early, not alone?" He turned to look at you like you'd grown a second head. A good second head.

"You remembered that?"

"You explained it for twenty minutes to a stranger looking for the bathroom. Of course I remembered."

7. Make him carry something heavy for you.

Not because you need the help. Because there is a specific, devastating satisfaction in watching Gojo Satoru— who could probably bench-press the entire physics department— insist on carrying your grocery bags, your laundry basket, your six textbooks, all at once, while pretending it's nothing, while very obviously flexing about it.

8. Show up to his study group uninvited and stay anyway.

He runs a Tuesday night study group that is, allegedly, "for anyone who wants to come," but somehow the same three terrified freshmen show up every week and leave within the hour because Gojo cannot resist turning every session into a TED talk. You started showing up too. You did not leave within the hour. By the third week, he'd started saving you a seat next to him without being asked— the one by the outlet, because he'd noticed your laptop charger was fraying.

9. Text him something dumb at 2 a.m. and let him overthink his reply.

You know this one works because your roommate is somehow also friends with his roommate, and the intel came back within the hour: Gojo spent eleven minutes composing a response to your "ok but if a vending machine gains sentience is it a philosophical zombie or just annoying" text. Eleven minutes. For a joke. He sent back four different drafts before landing on one, and it was still unhinged.

10. Compliment his handwriting, not his face

He gets told he's hot approximately nine times a day, by everyone, including strangers on the bus. It means nothing to him anymore— it's just weather. But tell him his lecture notes are genuinely, freakishly beautiful— every equation boxed, every margin annotated in four colors like he's illuminating a medieval manuscript— and watch him go quiet in a way he never does when someone calls him pretty.

11. Let him see you fail at something.

Gojo doesn't actually want a girl who has it together 100% of the time— he wants someone real, though it took you a while to realize that. The night you completely bombed a presentation and cried a little in the stairwell after, he didn't try to fix it or hype you up with empty noise. He just sat down on the concrete step next to you in his very expensive jeans and said, "okay, worst professor you've ever had, go," and let you complain until you'd laughed the tears away.

12. Ask about his family. Actually listen.

He deflects hard whenever anyone brings up the Gojo name, the money, the expectations. Most people either fawn over it or pretend it doesn't exist. You did neither— you just asked, once, gently, "is it heavy? Carrying all that?" and let the silence sit instead of filling it. He didn't answer for a full minute. Then he told you more than he'd told anyone all semester. He told you about his twin.

13. Give him a nickname that isn't about how he looks.

Everyone calls him "Six Eyes" as some ironic school-wide joke about how much he supposedly sees. You started calling him "Professor" instead, low and teasing, every time he got insufferable about a fact nobody asked for. He complained about it constantly. He also, notably, never asked you to stop.

14. Show up to his dumb extracurricular thing

He's in the university's astronomy club, which meets on the roof of the science building at ungodly hours to look at things you cannot see because of light pollution. You went once, mostly out of curiosity, and ended up going every month after, wrapped in his stolen hoodie (see: item 3), while he pointed at smudges in the sky and insisted, with total conviction, that one of them was definitely Saturn.

"That's a plane, Satoru."

"It's Saturn, and I won't be taking questions."

15. Get jealous. Badly. On purpose.

You are not proud of this one, but it worked, so it's staying on the list. A guy from your seminar started sitting suspiciously close to you during group work, and Gojo— usually the most chill, unbothered person alive— suddenly developed a burning need to sit in on your seminar "for fun." He is not enrolled in your seminar. He does not need to be there. He was there anyway, arms crossed, radiating an aura your professor mistook for academic passion.

16. Take care of him when he forgets to take care of himself.

For someone so smart, Gojo is disastrous at remembering to eat during midterms. You started leaving snacks in his backpack without telling him— protein bars, the specific brand of gum he chews when he's anxious, a note sometimes. He never mentioned it directly. He just started leaving you snacks back, an unspoken little economy of care neither of you would put a name to yet.

17. Let him walk you home even when you don't need it.

It's fifteen minutes out of his way. He does it every time anyway, sunglasses off, hands in his pockets, talking the entire walk about nothing and everything, and you've started timing your goodnights to be a little longer than they need to be.

18. Catch him staring, and don't look away first.

It happened in the library, over a stack of shared notes— you looked up and he was already looking, not at your notes, at you, and for once in his entire dramatic life he didn't have a single word ready. You didn't look away. Neither did he. Somebody's highlighter rolled off the table and neither of you moved to catch it.

19. Tell him, out loud, that you like the nerd version of him best.

Not the flirt. Not the golden retriever performing for a crowd. The version that gets quiet and intense over a whiteboard, that memorizes the digits of pi when he's anxious, that lit up over a napkin diagram because someone finally asked him a real question. You told him this on the roof, under his fake Saturn, and he went so still you thought you'd broken him.

20. Kiss him first.

Because he will never, ever make the first move— not out of fear, but because some small, stupid, sincere part of him doesn't believe someone like you would actually want someone like him, underneath all the noise. So you have to be the one. You kiss him on the roof, hoodie sleeves pulled over your hands, his ridiculous fake constellation still glowing faintly behind him, and he makes a sound against your mouth like every ounce of composure he's ever performed just short-circuited at once.

When you pull back he's staring at you the way he stares at a problem he's finally solved— stunned, delighted, a little smug that he got there at all.

"Say something smart, Professor," you tell him, breathless.

"Give me a second," he says. "You broke my working memory."

[rinaxs]

you knew what you were getting into when you started dating sukuna; you knew the rep that surrounded him and the rumors that would follow. but some part of you—albiet a rather stupid part— thought that it wouldn't matter. you were in love, weren't you? at least that's what it felt like for some short time. those times quickly faded and were replaced by mere late night hookups and even later phone calls after days of radio silence from him.

today just happened to be one of the days where he stumbled back to your apartment and into your arms. perhaps another version of you would believe that he always came back to you because he loved you. now, as you look as his disheveled appearance and smell the perfume of another girl, you truly don't know what to think.

"hey, baby." he slurs over his words and the smile on his face would have had you fooled a couple of months ago. but you know better by now. and yet, you still don't push him away when he leans in for a kiss and walks into your apartment as if he owns the place. he pulls away from your lips but his hands stayed on your hips, preventing you from moving away. “y’know i love u right, baby?” sukuna says. maybe you would believe him if you couldnt practically taste the alcohol on him. in other circumstances, you wouldve thought he was really looking at you like he loved you. too bad you could see how red his eyes were. and if you looked even closer, you could see some remnants of glitter on his skin.

 it wasn't a shocker that sukuna was going to clubs and making out with other girls. you've seen the posts, heard the stories, and you've grown numb to it now. it's not like what you had with sukuna was official anyways. he could call you his girlfriend all he wanted and vice versa, but nothing would change the fact that what you had was not a relationship.

you put your hands over his and force his hands off of you. he practically whines at the loss of touch but you try to stay firm.

"what are you doing here, sukuna?" you ask.

"came to see my girl," sukuna says, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "what's so wrong with me coming to visit you?"

because you never do unless your drunk off your ass, you think to yourself. you contemplate voicing your thoughts but decide against it. you were already exhausted and the last thing you wanted to deal with was the man standing in front of you vying for your touch. you contemplate calling one of his frat brothers to come pick him up, not wanting to deal with him tonight but his voice pulls you out of your thoughts.

"i feel like we never see each other anymore," he mutters, a frown prominent on his face.

"and who's fault is that?"

"are you mad at me or something?"

you rub your temples in an effort to ease the growing headache, "i'm just tired sukuna-"

"you never call me that unless your mad."

"it's your name, sukuna," you respond, emphasizing on his name causing his scowl to deepen. he's quick to step into your space and pull you into a hug once more, one you don't return. you feel him mutter something in the crevice of your neck. "what are you doing?"

"i said i love you," he repeats louder. "you never said it back."

"maybe tell me when your sober and i will."

"but im saying it now."

you push him away once more, making sure to keep him at an arm's length away now. "but you never mean it, do you?" his silence tells you everything you need to know. you sigh and drag him to the couch before pushing him onto the cushions. "you can stay here for the night but you're out of here when i wake up, understand?"

"you don't mean that, pretty baby," he smirks groggily, getting comfortable on your couch.

he's right, you didn't. but he didn't need to know that for now. you would deal with his ass in the morning. you toss a throw blanket on his face, "go to sleep, ryo."

before you get a chance to walk away, he grabs your wrist, "sleep with me?" the man is practically passed out but his grip is still a little firm. even then, it takes little effort from you to pry his fingers from your wrist. he's practically snoring by the time you've walked away. you pull out your phone and scroll through your contacts until you land on toji's. you text him, knowing damn well he wouldn't answer a phone call, and head to your bedroom.

you i need you to get sukuna out of my apt

toji doesn't respond until ten minutes later and answers with only a thumbs up. you stay up long enough to hear the knock on your door and open it to find toji and shiu. they greet you lightly and move to sukuna, who was passed out and drooling on your couch. toji and shiu hoist him up, one of sukuna's arms on each of their shoulders so they are carrying him in between.

"is this your way of ending it officially?" toji asks, adjusting his grip on sukuna's arm, ignoring his unconcious grumbles.

"i'll shoot him a text or something in case this isn't obvious enough. get him to pick up his shit tomorrow," you shrug off, trying to come off as indifferent as possible.

shiu whinces, "ouch- harsh even for this asshole."

you narrow your eyes, "if you're going to defend him, i should've just dragged him and left him out there."

"and he would've deserved every last bit, sweetheart," toji says. him and shiu move for the door but just before they leave, toji looks at you over his shoulder. "i know he doesn't make it seem like it, but he really does love you, yn."

you shake your head softly but you do your best to give him a smile. "goodnight toji. night shiu." they bid you farewell and you close the door. you take out your phone from your pocket and click on sukuna's contact. you spend too much effort crafting the message and too much time re-reading it. you hit send before you have a chance of backing out and block him quickly after.

it's over ryomen. ill have your stuff ready for you in the morning.

creds!! divider by @/chrisssiren taglist!! @cttelina @bunbun812 @oksukuna @kriitee @bleepybl00p @sailormarsinanotherlife @sushikuna @icebearcucumber an!! "its been a year daddy" ahh post (｡•́︿•̀｡) im sorry for my lack of posts guys,, im having a major writing slump

read pt two here!!

[kkunai]

[ ᡣ . ٜ̥ .ྀི 𑁩ཾיִ ] :: it’s late at night and you try to cuddle with trueform!sukuna. keyword; try.

tags. fluff, angst(&comfort), miscommunication-ish, reader is called ‘doll’ :: wc. 1.2k

“what are you trying to do?” sukuna sighs.

you’re up to something again, he figures. his red eyes follow your body as it crawls up to him on the bed.

you’re both tired after a long day of fulfilling some duties here and there around the estate. all you need is a big beefy man wrapping his arms around you to keep you warm and safe.

the perfect man for that is none other than sukuna. those four arms of his wrapped around your small body feel like heaven.

“it’s called cuddling,” you retort. the sarcastic tone you used triggers a deep sigh from the sorcerer.

sukuna holds back the urge to say something sarcastic back.

he doesn’t utter a single word once you snuggle up to his chest. you’ve taught him how to cuddle during the first time you asked him to hold you. sukuna was awkward with showing any type of affection back then.

he still very much is.

“hug, please,” you remind him.

the cold-hearted man scoffs, though listens to your polite request. all four of his arms imprison you against his chest, your small body nearly disappearing behind his limbs.

that’s what you like most about those cuddles you share together; how you fit so perfectly in his strong arms. it’s much more comforting than you thought it’d be.

a pair of hands rests on your waist, the other pair on your hips. sukuna glances down at you and immediately notices that smile on your lips. even after all this time, he still can’t fathom why you’re so carefree around a monster like him.

and that inability to understand you and your love for him is accompanied by an urge to push you away.

“you got your hug, now get up,” sukuna interrupts the silence.

his voice is cold and devoid of emotion—he uses that voice when he talks to other people. not with you, “i have better things to attend to.”

it hurts when he talks to you like that. like you’re not the person he secretly cherishes most. though, you remind yourself of sukuna’s own words. the ones you heard him say a while ago.

‘love is meaningless’, he said.

you remember. and yet you kept hoping that he’d change his mind about that statement. you hoped and eventually saw exactly that: your presence and your affectionate gestures mellowed his heart of steel.

but all that effort seems to go down the drain every time sukuna pushes you away.

you know it’s because he’s unfamiliar with the feelings of love. he may not say it nor show it, but you know that sukuna’s afraid of hurting you. so, he creates a gap between you two every now and then.

you know and yet you’re patient.

“oh, ‘kay,” you nod in understanding. you pull away from his embrace and get up from the bed. your bottom lip trembles.

sukuna is not gullible. he’s anything but oblivious. especially if it’s about how you feel and act. he notices every single change in your mood; whether you mask it or not.

you walk to the sliding doors—ready to open them and step out into the hallway. your eyes are a bit watery, but you quickly blink the tears away and take a deep breath in. you reach for the door.

“. . . come back here, woman.”

sukuna’s booming voice makes you stop. you glance at his form over your shoulder. he’s leaning against the headboard of the bed, arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed.

is he. . . upset?

“why? you said you had better things to attend to.” you answer with a shrug. you try your best to not make it seem like his earlier words had effected you.

you turn your head towards the word with a huff, “go on, then.”

sukuna narrows his eyes. he sucks at communicating what he actually desires—what he actually wants. right now that want is for you to stay. even though that completely contradicts his previous words.

he doesn’t know what to do. when you’re with him, he pushes you away out of guilt. when you’re away, he wants you back with him.

love is complicated.

“you. . .” sukuna grunts in frustration. all those feelings for you inside of his heart are playing with his rational thoughts. he doesn’t like seeing you upset. he wants the usual you back, “tsk. fine then.”

silence, followed by the creaking of the bed frame. seems like sukuna’s getting up to do whatever ‘business’ he needed to attend. at least, that’s what you thought.

you slide the door open and set a foot outside of the chambers. before the other can follow, you’re suddenly lifted up in the air by a strong pair of hands. your vision turns upside down as your body is effortlessly hoisted onto a shoulder.

“woah!” you gasp and feel the blood go to your head.

your eyes are fixed on the broad back you’re facing. you kick your legs in protest, but only get a smack to your ass in response.

you whine at that, “ngh, put me down!”

“watch it, doll,” sukuna hisses at your fierce demand, a warning to fix your tone. he puts you back down on the soft mattress. he’s surprisingly gentle when he settles you in place—not throwing you on the bed or anything similar, “should’ve listened when i told you the first time.”

your eyes meet sukuna’s and you notice how much they’ve softened. that alone makes the lump in your throat disappear. your love for him isn’t one sided—you’ve always kept that in the back of your mind—yet your thoughts made you overlook the little things he does for you.

his actions speak louder than his words. that’s the kind of man he is. sukuna’s trying to open up more, though that process is slow. you’re fine with that.

especially when there’s that faint pout on his lips as he stares at you. his eyebrows are still furrowed, his crimson eyes sharp yet warm.

“oooh… you want me back in bed this bad?” you tease once you get the opportunity.

the man in front of you clicks his tongue and grabs your cheeks with one hand, turning your head up to face him.

sukuna’s eyes are focused on yours. the eye contact is intimidating, but you’re hypnotised. you physically can’t look away.

he leans in and bites your bottom lip with his sharp canines, “shut up.”

that raspy whisper alone confirms your assumption. you giggle at his attempt of refuting your point. you’re used to all those intimidating words and actions he pulls to get you to stop your teasing.

those empty threats—it’s becoming rather cute with how hard he tries to deny everything. he fails nearly every time, however.

“come,” sukuna lays back against the pillows after placing a quick and sloppy kiss against your lips. he pulls your body against his and presses your head against his chest, right where his heart is beating, “continue with your.. ‘cuddling’ thing.”

he put your ear right above his heart, because he remembers listening to his heartbeat calms you down. you told him that a while back. sukuna doesn’t understand why you like it, but his fingers massage your scalp either way.

that’s also something that brings you comfort.

you’re surprised by how much he knows about you, but appreciate it anyway. he remembers both the big and small things about you.

‘and that’s how he probably shows his love,’ you conclude silently.

[cypherdrgon]

Phm from Adrian's perspective is just what if you were Penelope and Odysseus came home but he also brought a jellyfish and keeps begging you to build a fish tank for the jellyfish and make jellyfish food for the jellyfish and youre an ancient Greek whos never seen a jellyfish and you cant even comprehend how your going to do it but youre going to because if you dont Odysseus may kill himself. And also the jellyfish can do like. Witchcraft.

[tyler-the-geek]

😭😭😭

[glass-heartbeat]

saw a post so bad i whispered “i don’t like you” and set my phone down

[the-haiku-bot]

saw a post so bad

i whispered “i don’t like you”

and set my phone down

Beep boop! I look for accidental haiku posts. Sometimes I mess up.

[inkcapcreature]

Made a little comic about my eridian Oc :-]

[technically-human]

Rocky chose a hand to match Grace's scar!

[aroace-ryland-grace]

hottest fucking thing one can read, really (x)

[kindly-whisper-norbury]

[depsidase]

[lazywriterinthedark]

[tooies]

reblog and put in the tags what your childhood password that you just stuck with is!

[apyr-the-struggler]

[lutheban]

Eridians dont know about time relativity and people are NOT talking about it enough imagine sending a person on a dangerous mission like 70 years ago and when they finally come back and they look like they only aged 10 of those years and tell you "oh yeah time just works different there" when you have no concept of that that is INSANE rocky explaining radiation to eridian scientists (already insane concept) and going "oh yeah btw time works differently in space" "what" "time works differently in space. what we thought would be a 16 years trip was only a 4 year trip for me, the solarians call it something like time-depending-of-position-in-space, is pretty trippy" "....WHAT"

[raccoonmilf]

When I was in grade school I used to send emails to biologists and zoologists asking them questions to get answers to include in school projects I was working on, and would cry when they did not respond because I thought I was stupid for thinking that some random kid would ever be deserving of a response from someone who does something as smart and cool and important as *checks notes* studies frog fungus.

Now, at 29, I’m lowkey having a panic attack because my academic email is filled with middle schoolers wanting me to answer their questions about pygmy raccoons and I keep putting off answering them because I’m so overwhelmed with all the other raccoon stuff I have to do.

Anyway, greatest apologies to any scientist I ever emailed as a child and also an adult.

[raccoonmilf]

I know your research is really important and I appreciate all you are doing but this is so fucking funny

[beetleandfox]

watching grace & rocky & adrian hang out inside the biodome must be the eridian equivalent of when you go to the aquarium and see the trainers chilling in the sea lion exhibit

[pcuaccount]

Idea where Rocky has a crush but doesn’t want to act on it since liking aliens must look weird and he’s worried abt Grace thinking of him badly but then they get to Erid and Adrian tells Rocky to hear them out.

Rocky has to tell Adrian that Grace learned Eridian on the way home and absolutely just heard that. This is Grace’s first impression of them. Their cool and collection look went out the window and is not coming back