࣪ ˖☆ 𝖑𝖎𝖑𝖇𝖎𝖟𝖟𝖞☆ ˖

19 🥹

[sp1ritb0x]

who are these guys even are they lost

[psyduckz]

ice cream

[j0an-na]

mother’s day

[lauxtheshark]

Satosugu has so many deep interpretations and analyses it's amazing how much people can read from between the lines without diving too far into fanon

[kaiiswrld]

texts w down bad hb gojo

minors dni

might hate this 🙏

[miss-todobaku]

What is wrong with being obsessed with an ass, right?

Bakugo physically cannot sleep unless he is completely glued to your backside. Even when he’s dead tired, he’ll violently yank you back-first against his bare chest, his large hands clamping onto your waist to pull your ass flush against his lap. His thick, heavy length is always semi-hard and nestled perfectly between your cheeks, throbbing lazily against you all night.

ugh!!! if you try to shift away because his body heat is boiling you, he completely loses it. Even half-asleep, his grip will tighten like an iron vise, and he'll let out a low, warning growl as he shoves his face directly into the valley of your ass. He literally buries his nose and mouth right against your bare skin, inhaling your scent from right there just to quiet his brain down enough to sleep.

Waking up is the most feral part because his morning wood is absolutely brutal. You’ll wake up to him already rock-hard and slick, deliberately grinding his heavy weight right against your dripping heat from behind. Before you can even open your eyes, his hand will shove your face into the pillow, his voice a ruined, sleepy rasp against your neck: "Don't fucking move—you're taking it right now," before he drives himself completely home.

[f-tality0]

Choso

[romiiarts]

i will love you forever

[mimuju]

fratjo never goes down… unless its you, of course ! (⸝⸝> ω <⸝⸝)

the first rule of being satoru gojo was simple: you never, ever went down on a girl.

“it’s undignified,” he declared, leaning back in the worn-out frat house armchair, one leg slung over the arm. a bottle of cheap beer dangled from his fingers. “like, biologically, it makes no sense. you’re putting your face in a swamp. a swamp.i have standards.”

his friends—a chorus of nodding, beer-addled bros—laughed and clinked bottles in agreement. “preach, man!”

“seriously,” gojo continued, warming to his theme, his white hair glowing under the shitty fluorescent light. “what’s in it for me? the view is mid. the taste is questionable. naaah. my talents are better utilized elsewhere.” he gestured vaguely with the bottle. “let them worship me. that’s the natural order. i’m a giver, sure, but that’s just… not in my repertoire. ever.”

he said it with such absolute, unshakeable conviction that it became gospel in the frat house. gojo doesn’t eat pussy. it was a known fact, like the sky being blue or his ego being planetary in size.

cut to three hours later.

the same satoru gojo is currently buried so deep between your thighs he might need a rescue team. the arrogant smirk is gone, replaced by a look of single-minded, desperate devotion. his glasses are discarded somewhere on your bedroom floor.

“fuuuhhck,” he slurs, the word muffled against your skin as his tongue—that clever, wicked tongue he claimed was too good for this—lashes your clit in tight, frantic circles. “fuck, fuck, fuck… mmmh, so good…”

he’s not just doing it. he’s feasting. one large hand pins your hip to the mattress, the other is tangled in the sheets like he’s holding on for dear life. the wet, obscene sounds filling the room are coming from him as much as from you— slurps, groans, hungry hums that vibrate straight to your core. each flick of his tongue draws a new, breathy moan from him, a symphony of whines and low, possessive growls.

you card your fingers through his sweaty white hair, tugging gently. “t-thought you didn’t do this,” you gasp, arching into his mouth.

he pulls off just enough to growl, his lips and chin glistening. “shut up,” he breathes, pupils blown wide, looking utterly pussydrunk. a string of saliva connects his lower lip to your folds. “you taste like fucking heaven. ‘s different.” he nuzzles back in, inhaling deeply with a shuddering sigh. “god, you smell so good… mmph…” then he dives back in with a needy whimper, his nose pressing against you as he laps at your entrance, drinking you down like a man dying of thirst. every swallow is punctuated by a soft, satisfied groan from the back of his throat.

he’s lost all composure, all his cool, frat-boy posturing dissolved into a primal, whimpering mess. he moans into you, a continuous, low-pitched moans synced with the thrust of his tongue, his hips grinding uselessly against the mattress. when your legs start to shake around his head, he lets out a muffled, encouraging “yesssss, c’mon, baby, g-give it to me— n-need it s'bad—”

when you finally come, crying out his name, he doesn’t pull away. he rides out every pulse with his tongue, swallowing every drop, a deep, resonant sigh of pleasure vibrating against your oversensitive flesh until you’re pushing his head away, trembling and spent.

he collapses beside you, breathing raggedly, a dazed, blissed-out smile on his slick lips. he looks ruined, triumphant, and utterly, completely yours. he lets out a long, shaky exhale that’s almost a laugh.

“…okay,” he pants after a minute, turning to nuzzle your shoulder. he presses a lazy, open-mouthed kiss to your skin. “maybe i do go down. but only for you.” he licks his lips, still tasting you, and lets out another soft, involuntary sigh. “and you better not tell anyone.”

"we'll see about that," you just smile, running a thumb over his swollen lower lip.

slut : @sadisticslut666

perm - @whorishminds @throatgoatgeto @go-go-gadget-autism @thecrazyfangirlthings@grignardsreagent @strawberryshortcakkitty @naammiii @liasacountgothacked @annicishana @my-starlights@error-racoon-404 @afreakforyautja @cupidstrace @iam-souless @sindulgent666 @chewiebee @tojisballhair@ex1acy @palanggaaa @yourlocalcatscammer @ehcilhc @gravecyte @restingoasis @satorupi @laburantesdoll@sxpernova @thethyri @lostgeto @lilytrn @mikaari0 @chososballhair @nanamissilkytie @iwasabs @tojis-juicymantitys @laitifly @farylfordaryl @bl1ndv3lvet @booboobear-12 @6arcxm @sleeplessdancer @chloeee20 @deartoru @neptunezxx @ash273819 @sketchbonked @vanillakirstein @valberryboos @itimisu @livviaaaaa@kebablover @babyluvlol @audreytoru @silverwfern @lynf1n1ty @0-kry

[sozila]

dear future husband

synopsis: when you were fifteen, you wrote love letters to a fake address. at twenty eight, you received a reply.

pairing: prohero!eijirou kirishima x quirklesslawyer!reader

warnings: explicit sexual content eventually, mdni. currently fluff galore (with a little angst) in this chapter lol! some bigotry, beware

masterlist | next

you are on: sent and received (1)

wc: 2.4k

a/n: this is such a romcom inspired series 🥹 it's loosely based on to all the boys i've loved before and another cinderella story if I'm being completely honest.. but i've included a more serious topic of quirk discrimination in this work and i expect to have more incidents as reader is a lawyer! ⚖️ so potential violence and regular hero fights in the future as well.

valentine's day was the worst.

it was a humiliation ritual. specifically after they stopped the fun class boxes where you were able to get platonically shared candies and cards, morphing into more serious romantic endeavors. every class was interrupted by valentine's grams that your school choir did to raise money, and so you had to listen to cheesy love songs at random. to put it simply, you were sick of the dreaded holiday.

you weren't really unlikable. far from it, actually. you had friends—got invited to the more popular birthday parties, sat at a consistent lunch table. it's just that the department of love wasn't exactly scheduling appointments with you often. or at all.

sure, there was kaito in sixth year who sent you a rose with a cute note. only, you found out later that it was a mix-up and was intended for sana, the girl who was your locker neighbor. later you had a thing for ryota in your eighth year, but quickly learned after a few rumors that he was caught kissing a fairly popular boy named ren in the gym storage room. all the more power to him, no judgment here.

by your first year of high school, you were tired. must love be so hard? sometimes you just wished it just fell into your lap on a warm spring day. you buried yourself in stories of epic romance, yearn far and wide. princesses and childhood best friends, to forbidden lovers and fated ties. your nature of daydreaming conveniently found you at your desk in the late hours of the night, scribbling away on the nice stationary papers your aunt gave you for your birthday. 

with giddy excitement, you hurry to seal the letter in the matching envelope, licking it shut. you look at the corner of the mail, the empty space with the address staring right back at you. a mischievous little smile tugs at your lips. maybe you can make one up? surely no one would actually send it. it would most likely sit in a landfill after the post office would realize it wasn't real, you thought. that's perfect!

you wrote in your neatest handwriting:

142-0934 Shizuoka, Musutafu, 1-43-70 Kyomei Building 150 Japan

you knew that it was a one in a trillion chance that this place even existed. no way, you knew pretty much all of the apartments in musutafu. none were named kyomei to your knowledge. you slipped the letter into your backpack, called a quick “bye, mom!” down the stairs, and practically skipped the whole way to the mailbox on the corner. the metal flap shut loudly after you dropped it in, clanging in finality.

the letter vanished into the vast void as far as you knew because no reply ever came, reaffirming your belief that this was a legitimate way to vent out your feelings.

you didn’t know it then, but the universe has a terrible sense of humor when it comes to granting wishes.

obliviously, you kept writing whenever you felt that ache for something more bothered you too much. you'd pour your heart out to the mystery man who lived at the non-existent address in your city. you told him about bad scores, watching your classmates harness their quirks while you had to silently cheer them on. 

you wrote away about your fears, hopes, dreams that you still selfishly believed in. you even told him about your parents' divorce that came abruptly during your junior year of high school, something that was difficult for you to divulge to anyone about. 

you didn't know how many letter you had sent before you finally ceased them. must have been at least thirty, or something in the range. you ended up opting to become a realist like your father always preached to you. you threw yourself into your studies like your life depended on it. you knew that law was your best route given your status as a quirkless person. it certainly helped that you loved the thrill of a debate. your nice stationary started to gather dust in the bottom of your desk drawer, but you couldn't live in your fantasy world forever. 

eventually, your work paid off and you graduate in the top 1% of your class. you landed a junior associate position at a mid-tier firm that handled quirk discrimination cases right out of university. you found peace in burying yourself in your work, preferring to drown out your thoughts with legal jargon and witness statements.

three years go by, and you find yourself in a position of disgust once more when your office decided to hold a floor valentine's day party. courtesy of your lovely co-worker yuma, a very sparky and jumpy woman who loved to hug anyone and everyone. she was sweet, but definitely a lot to deal with when you already work a high-stress job. 

"listen, it's just one date! pleeeease, i promise you'll have fun!" the pink haired woman is practically on her knees at your desk, hoping you'll cave. you let out a small groan. 

"you're covering annotations for the next three cases i have this week. deal?" she immediately launches into a fit of squeals, jumping up and down. "thank you thank you thank you! ahh, my matchmaking side job is finally taking off," she leaves your office as quickly as she came, you unable to get another word in. you take a deep sigh. whatever, it's just a couple hours.

unfortunately for you, the man yuma picked was probably the last guy you'd approach in a room full of people. 

yuma swore he was ‘normal, stable, and really tall’. he was definitely tall. but along with that came an arrogance that could mirror endeavor. 

"so yuma mentioned you’re quirkless,” he said, leaning in like he wanted to speak in hushed tones. “that’s actually really inspiring. i mean, look at you! working at a law firm, still putting yourself out there. most quirkless people just… accept their place, you know? support roles. administrative stuff. that’s where they shine.”

your chopsticks paused mid-air.

“support roles,” you repeated slowly.

“yeah! like, you’re clearly smart. you could be an amazing legal assistant for hero agencies. or work in quirk regulation policy. that’s important work. not everyone needs to be in the spotlight.”

you gave him your best professional smile, the one you used in depositions when you were trying your best not to rip someone a new one.

“actually,” you said calmly, “i just won a discrimination settlement last month for a quirkless teacher who was denied promotion. precedent-setting case. i argued it myself in front of the district panel.”

haruto blinked, and then laughed like you had told a cute joke.

“wow. feisty. i like that! didn't know they gave young lawyers cases so early on.” you fought the urge to stab yourself in the eye.

"i've been doing cases since i got out of law school. i'm twenty eight."

the rest of the dinner was a slow descent. he kept steering every topic back to quirks, which clearly got old the moment he spoke the first time. you were ready to leave when he went on about how his reinforcement quirk made him 'decent in bed, by the way'. every time you tried to shift the conversation to something normal like books, travel, or literally anything else, he circled back.

when the check finally arrived, you pulled out your card faster than he could react. with haste you say your goodbyes and make up an excuse about an early morning hearing. you leave haruto in the dust of his own bigotry, good riddance.

you finally got home at eleven, kicking off your heels and pouring yourself a generous glass of red wine. and then another, staring at the wall for twenty full minutes. drinking alone with no music was genuinely one of the saddest things you've done in recent times.

you flop onto your bed, looking at your window with a sigh. your eyes wander lower to your desk, catching at a familiar pink box. your stationary box.

you sloppily crawl across your bed, making way to pick it up from underneath all your files. it was slightly yellowed, smelling faintly of your teenage bedroom. your hands moved on autopilot, the wine loosening everything you’d kept locked away for years. against your better judgment, you had already whipped out a pen and the same parchment you had used all those years ago.

you sign it with your full name as you always had done. penned down the address without another thought, slipping on your coat and walking the three block to your mailbox to drop it in. 

you chuckled to yourself sadly on the way back. “idiot,” you mutter. strangely, your chest did feel lighter. when you arrived back at your place, you instantly fell asleep as the drinking ultimately worked as your melatonin. 

a week later, you're back to your routine and forget you even sent the letter. work raged on as it did, and so did your exhaustion. it had been a particularly brutal day with multiple back to back meetings. your shoulders were knotted tight, eyes burning from staring at your computer for hours. all you wanted was a hot shower and some katsudon. 

you almost skipped checking the mailroom on your way up, nearly walking past the row of silver boxed in the lobby of your building. you stop because of muscle memory, unlocking the small metal thing as usual. your pupils skim the papers quickly. junk mail, water bill.. a cream colored envelope. you almost drop the whole stack.

your name was written across the front in clean, confident handwriting. it was slightly slanted, but nice to look at. the return address made your stomach flip so violently you had to grip the edge of the mailbox with your free hand.

the postmark was real, three days old. the stamp was a standard issue cherry blossom design. everything about it look painfully legitimate. you fight the urge to scream in the empty place. for a long moment, you just stood there with your heart slamming against your ribs. this was not funny in the slightest but it had to be a prank. a cruel coincidence! maybe someone found your old letters and decided to mess with you. or you were hallucinating from the lack of sleep and too many cans of celsius. 

with a jerky movement, you don't wait for the elevator and take the stairs like a lunatic. two at a time, shallow breathing. the second you step inside your place you kicked the door shut with a slam, dropping your stuff and the rest of the mail on the floor with no decorum. you sat down at the kitchen nook still wearing your coat and heels. 

your fingers tremble as you slid a nail under the sealed flap. inside was a single sheet of matching cream stationery with red accents, folded once. the handwriting was the same neat and sharp script. you had to read the first line three times before your brain accepted that words were actually there, written.

you lowered the paper slowly, your head spinning.

you were going to be sick.

kyomei 150 has a real resident. a real resident, who got your fucking letter.

he's so nice and cute and i wanna cry

buy me a drink | masterlist | next

reblogs are highly appreciated ♡

taglist! @riotsgrl @6x-x9 @toffeeepaw @pawwwginaaa

taglist form

peace luv bathtub!!!

all dividers by @cafekitsune, photos from pinterest and art by unknown, credits to og!

© sozila 2026, all rights reserved. please do not plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my work on other mediums or sites. cross-posted on ao3 and tumblr under same alias.

[rinaxs]

ryomen "my girlfriend beats me" sukuna. aka, the time where sukuna thought it would be funny to announce to onlookers that his girlfriend beats him.

it some random saturday where your friend group decided to go bowling. after you all had gotten tired of gojo's whines since he was losing to geto, you all decided to head out. on your way out though, gojo pointed out the arcade room and bought game cards for everyone before anyone could complain.

among the rigged games, there was a boxing machine where a small punching bag would dangle. someone would then step up and hit the bag as hard as possible, allowing the machine to "measure" the strength of the hit. the current high-score was 920. it was actually sukuna that dragged you over to the machine and told you to give it a shot. he swiped the game card he purchased earlier and leaned on the side of the machine as it let the punching bag dangle, awaiting your hit.

"go on, baby. give it your best shot," sukuna says, the smug look on his face making you want to hit him rather than the machine.

as if he read your mind, gojo pipes up and says, "yeah just pretend the bag is his face, yn!"

you roll your eyes and have half a mind to just give it a half hearted punch just to get it over with. until you get another look at the smirk on sukuna's face. the asshole just wanted you to go first so he could go after and show off. you found that your boyfriend likes to take any opportunity to show his strength. whether it's tightening jars so you would have to ask for his help or doing stupid arm wrestling at the parties when he's had a few too many drinks. just the thought of the ego boost this would give him made your eye twitch.

so you take a stance you remember sukuna showing you when he insisted you learn self-defense. you raise your arm and pivot your body as a practice punch that didn't hit the bag just yet. using that momentum, you land a hook powerful enough to shake the machine as the numbers on the screen shot up before stopping at 999, the max. 

choso and shoko clap in praise from behind you as gojo and toji let out a couple hollers and whistles. the commotion from the impact of your punch caused a couple people to look over and upon seeing the number on the screen, a couple of them clapped a little too.

you look over to sukuna with a smirk, expecting to find nothing but shock only to get irritated when he looked prouder than before. you watched in real time as the idea formed in his head before he cupped one hand around his mouth as his other hand points at you.

"she's my girlfriend!" sukuna calls out, loud as fuck. "she beats the shit outta me!"

as if the commotion from your friends' cheers weren't enough, of course sukuna decides to be an attention seeker. his comment earns some laughs and toji even adds on, "don't worry, he's exactly where he wants to be."

sukuna saunters over to you before pulling you into his chest by your waist. "damn right i am," he tells you with a grin.

you land a soft jab into his side in protest, "if someone calls the cops on me for domestic abuse, i swear ryomen."

"y'know i'd bail you out, pretty baby."

[llaisfach]

pinky swear

[fireflyschiikawa]

husband!sukuna : groggy

you’d only meant to check on them for a second.

instead, you stopped in the doorway and forgot how to move.

the room was quiet almost fragile. pale afternoon light leaked through the curtains in soft stripes, painting the sheets gold.

and there they were.

baby!yuji was sprawled across sukuna’s chest like a starfish, one chubby cheek smushed against bare skin and tiny fist tangled in the collar of your husband’s shirt.

and sukuna..looked devastatingly human half-asleep.

his face was softened with exhaustion, eyes still closed, long lashes resting against his cheeks.

both their heads were a soft messy tuft of pink.

you felt your heart physically hurt.

and for a moment, neither of them noticed you.

until the floor creaked.

yuji stirs first with a tiny whine, blinking blearily. his little eyes are unfocused, heavy with sleep, and the second he spots you standing there his entire face lights up.

“mama…” it comes out all raspy and small his little hands reaching for you immediately without even sitting up properly.

and your husband, still barely conscious, tightens his arm around his son on instinct, protective even in slumber. his eyes crack open slowly.

“what..” he mutters, voice rough with sleep.

he sounds offended by consciousness itself it could not get more ridiculous and adorable than that.

you simultaneously want to laugh and pounce at him because he just looks so soft!

yuji continues make grabby hands at you and unable to resist you walk over, perching on the edge of the bed making the mattress slightly dip.

bad decision.

because suddenly both of them gravitate toward you like magnets.

yuji crawls directly onto your lap with all the coordination of a sleepy toddler, burying his face into your stomach while sukuna exhales deeply beside you, eyes already falling shut again as he tucks you close to his side almost pulling you on top of him.

someone is being clingy..

his cheek is warm against your neck, hair tickling your skin. he smells like sleep and something comforting you can never name properly.

“you’ve both been napping for so long” you whisper, “it’s time to wake up” while both of them grunt a daft refusal and curl into you tighter.

yuji is already dozing off again, tiny fingers curled into your shirt.

sukuna shifts quietly before mumbling, barely coherent, “cold without you”

you blink at him.

then at the child asleep in your lap.

then back at sukuna, who seems to realize what he admitted a full three seconds too late because one eye opens again, glaring weakly.

“don’t”

“i didn’t say anything”

“don’t let it get to your head”

“oh it’s getting to my head alright”

he groans.

“too late” you grin.

despite the threat in his voice, he presses closer anyway, half asleep again before the conversation even finishes.

and somehow you too fall asleep surrounded by tangled blankets and warm bodies and terrible bedheads.

firefly; i just LOVE soft sleepy nap time fics it’s the most domestic thing ever RAHHH (do u guys want me to write longer fics? i kinda like the bite-sized format but lmk!)

series m.list

[owaisawi]

first in my bloodline to read about two men going at each other (proud of it)

[iheartyuyu]

5 times sukuna was heavily yearning + 1 time you finally noticed.

oblivious, lonely reader who’s used to doing things alone x downbad!sukuna. jealous!sukuna. gn!reader. reader wears glasses. uncle!sukuna. sukuna calls reader angel. he’s so down bad bro. ooc sukuna as usual. mentions of nsfw contents.

— ☆ —

1. movie nights.

you had a specific, detailed, high maintenance routine for watching movies. you had slowly perfected the process— a mental to do list popping up every time a new movie dropped that you needed to watch.

first, you needed to be in your designated ‘movie night pajamas’, the most comfortable you owned. your favorite blanket had to be there, along with your favorite pillow for support. you liked watching in your home more than cinemas, because you disliked the idea of not being able to pause the movie for whatever reason. who decided to make bathroom breaks that short, anyways?

for snacks, chips poured into your favorite bowl, your favorite niche flavor. a chocolate bar sat beside it just incase the movie got intense enough for you to crave it. your favorite drink was set beside them in a thermal cup, allowing you to drink it as slow as possible without it melting too quickly.

your phone had to be on dnd, blocking out every notification. the room had to be cold, and you avoided any distractions because pausing the movie on piracy websites meant three minutes of closing ads to turn it back on.

tonight, everything was perfect.

you were perfectly wrapped in your blanket, eyes wide as it watched the screen perfectly, chips tasting perfect, drink perfected, everything absolutely perfect—

bzzz.

you immediately groaned. who could possibly be showing up? you hadn’t ordered food. no one was invited over. it was late. what could possibly be urgent enough to prompt someone to ruin your little routine?

you paused the movie (which took three minutes of pressing ‘x’ on ads urging you to ‘text hot, single ladies in your area’, and ‘ai bots who can make you cum in three minutes!’), pushed the blanket off, and pulled the door open with a soft pout you didn’t even register, just to pause when you saw sukuna standing there, eyebrows furrowed, frowning.

you and sukuna weren’t that close, really. you were in the same friend group, but you always felt nervous around him. he was intimidating, scary, too cool for you. he always stared at you blankly, and you decided he was judging you for… everything. you were awkward, nervous, a little odd.

so, him showing up to your home at midnight was a little… nerve-wracking. his red eyes slowly scanned your comfortable, worn out pajamas, messy hair, tiny pout that faded as your eyes widened, before he blinked blankly. “sorry for showing up unannounced.”

he didn’t sound apologetic. at all. his tone was monotonous, almost unamused.

“can i come in?”

you slowly blinked, before realizing how dumb you must look. you grimaced internally, stepping aside, letting him in. immediately, his eyes landed on your little set up, and he arched an eyebrow. “movie night, huh? watching part two of your little movie series?”

“how did you know?” you mumbled, genuinely confused. much to your surprise, his lips twitched up in something that looked like admiration, amused, and it was the closest you ever got to see him smile.

holy fuck, he was so gorgeous it felt unfair. now that you were actually focusing on the man towering over you, dressed in a black shirt and gray sweatpants, tanned skin peaking from under his clothes, muscles on view—

“it’s your favorite series, and it just dropped. i can recognize the sketchy ass website because you hate netflix. you have your little movie night routine, pajamas, chips, and drink.” he murmured casually, nonchalantly, as if it was normal that the guy you thought disliked you knew this much about you. “i listen, you know.”

your jaw was slack, eyes wide. he only snorted, arching an eyebrow. “don’t tell me fucking gojo was right and you really think i hate you.”

you paused. “well…”

“are you serious?” sukuna scoffed. “you’re my fucking favorite in the group, dumbass.”

“what?” you mumbled back, more confused. “you always glare at me. you never talk to me. i was starting to think you didn’t even know my last name.”

he stared at you, almost as if you were insane, then sighed. “you really are oblivious, huh?”

“hey—“

he shook his head, still looking mildly amused. “here’s the notes suguru said he would drop by to give you and forgot. i know you like studying early.”

“oh. you didn’t have to—“

“i wanted to.” he immediately stated, face serious. “‘ll leave you to it, can’t have someone ruining your perfect night. goodnight.”

with that, he was out, leaving you even more flabbergasted.

what. the. fuck.

2. hangouts.

you were still getting used to the idea that sukuna told you that not only did he not hate you, but that you were his favorite in the group. to you, the idea was unbelievable. flabbergasting. maybe even a little more scarier than being hated by him for some reason, but you managed pretty well.

at least you were more comfortable hanging out with your group now.

however, you had a tiny little habit. you hated the coffee at the place your friends loved, so often, you just walked away to the place next to it to buy your own coffee. it provided you a break, making the little pit of your stomach that grows when having to be around people, even your best friends, for too long reset, and you just get a chance to catch your breath.

today wasn’t different. in the middle of the hangout, you grabbed your wallet and slipped out, enjoying the tiny walk in fresh air before you stepped into your favorite cafe.

the familiar barista immediately lit up at the sight of you, boredom fading from his face. he was your age, friendly with a cute grin that grew whenever you two chatted— something that made you feel at ease when ordering.

“my favorite customer,” he immediately greeted, grinning. the bell at the door chimed, and you both didn’t pay any mind to it. “i wonder what you will order this time.”

you snorted. you both knew you ordered the exact same thing every single time. “yeah, i wonder too.”

he chuckled, eyes flickering to the screen. you could feel a figure stopping behind you. “well, you know your total.”

you hummed, about to pay, when the familiar scent of sukuna’s signature perfume finally registered in your mind as he moved to step beside you, eyes narrowed, jaw slowly twitching. “make it two.”

you slowly glanced up. the barista looked up in surprise, before he nodded calmly. “of course.”

before you could register it, sukuna’s card was pressing against the machine, paying for you both. your jaw went slack for the second time this week, flabbergasted once more, but sukuna was already pulling you out of line so that the people behind you could pay.

and, more unfazed that he should be by his own actions, he casually held out the receipt. “here. you take the code and collect points on their app, right?”

“…how the fuck do you even know that?” you mumbled, utterly confused. “why are you here? how did you find me— did you even know what you ordered—“

“easy there, angel.” he murmured, calm. “you always carry the receipt and i see you type something from it on your phone often. ‘m here because the coffee in the other shop is ass. you always come here, so i figured i would try my coffee with you. i know what i ordered because i know your order.”

you openly gaped at him. he only reached over, grabbing both drinks, arching an eyebrow. “are you gonna gape at me forever or drink this sweet shit?”

“…did you just call me angel?”

his amusement immediately faded, ears turning red as he shoved your drink your way, looking away. “absolutely not. hallucinations. let’s go.”

that was what he chooses to deny? not that he knew your movie night in details? that he knew your exact drink? that he knew you secretly collected points from your favorite coffee shop?

you let out a tiny chuckle, amused, following behind him. that somehow managed to make his ears even more red, a scowl pulling on his pretty lips.

fuck. he was gorgeous, and adorable.

how horrible for you.

3. aquarium.

you laid face-down on shoko’s bed, face showed between the pillows, eyes shut in pure horror. “‘m so screwed.”

she sighed for the nth time from where she sat on the ground, studying. “you quite literally could not be more not screwed.”

“i have a crush on him, shoko. i never have crushes. and now i have one, on fucking sukuna. the guy once punched a guy for breathing ‘his’ air. he fucking hates people. i am so utterly fucked. he will kill me.”

she glanced up, as if she knew something you didn’t. “he won’t kill you. kiss you? maybe.”

“stop being delusional.” you mumbled, voice muffled as you buried your face into the sand further. “‘m so fucked.”

she sighed. “you’re delusional too if you don’t realize what’s happening. anyways, isn’t it the twenty seventh? your monthly aquarium night?”

you jumped up, gasping. “it is! fuck!” you quickly grabbed your phone to check the time, before opening the aquarium’s instagram page just in case there were any updates.

and, unfortunately, right there on their instagram story, posted twelve hours ago, was a simple statement.

‘couples only day!’

“oh, fuck my fucking life.” you mumbled, eyes on the story, shoulders drooping. “shoko, be my aquarium date.”

“couples only, huh? if only these weren’t the conditions,” she mused, almost flirty, before tilting her head.

“yes.”

“ask sukuna to go with you.”

you blinked once, twice, before pulling up your phone, nodding, serious. “good idea. ‘m asking gojo or geto.”

“that is quite literally not what i said.”

“you’re a genius.”

you sent off a quick text to geto and gojo, jumping off her bed to head to your own apartment to get ready. after dressing up all cute for the sake of your loved marine animals, you glanced down at your phone, where a vague text from gojo said he couldn’t, followed by maybe three million crying emojis (which was maybe because he had begged before to accompany you said no. aquariums were a single, you-only trip), and geto sent back a simple ‘he’s almost there’, and a thumbs up.

what kind of reply was that? you frowned, sending five questions marks, about to ask who the fuck ‘he’ was, when your doorbell rings.

you pulled the door open, and freeze when your eyes landed on the one and only sukuna. he glanced at you, eyes blank, and nodded once. “let’s go.”

“…where?”

he raised an eyebrow. “the aquarium. date night. let’s go.”

“…are you sure?” you immediately mumbled, voice uncharacteristically low. “‘m, uh, kind of enthusiastic about this. nerdy. geeky. um, annoying.”

his lips twitched up into an endeared smile that he immediately pushed back. “i know what ‘m getting into. let’s go.”

you grabbed your jacket, eyebrows furrowing. “suguru could have just said he couldn’t come. i’m sorry he sent you instead.”

“oh, he could come.” sukuna stated blankly, stepping into the elevator behind you. you glanced up at him, confused, and he stared back blankly, as if waiting for you to collect dots you didn’t even see. he only sighed after a few minutes, shaking his head. “this is both cute and infuriating. so, which stupid creature is your favorite?”

you expected a night with sukuna to be awkward. tense. uncomfortable. a night where you had to hold back so you don’t become labeled as talkative, or annoying, or too much.

you didn’t expect for him to be a good listener. nodding at whatever you said, asking questions at first to keep you talking until you were comfortable rambling. you didn’t expect him to hold your things so you could comfortably get closer to the glass, or stay longer at your favorite animals, or ask you about ones that seemed interesting, his eyes soft and lips twitching upwards just the slightest. you didn’t expect him to disappear at one point and come back with a few limited-edition items from the small gift shop either, dumping them in your arms wordlessly as you two were walking out.

“thank you for being my fake date for the night, kuna.” you mumbled as he was dropping you off, sleepy, eyes soft and voice slurred. he paused at your words, lips twitching into a frown before he eyed how sleepy you were and only sighed.

“of course, angel.” he muttered, reaching over and nonchalantly pressing a kiss to your forehead before he turned around, walking away. “…sleep well, goodnight.”

gaping at him seeming like a new routine, except this time, your sleepy eyes were set on his back as he left, almost getting distracted by his muscles showing through the fabric. oh, you were so, utterly fucked.

4. the beach.

you sat quietly on the sand, wrapped tightly in a towel, eyes ahead as you watched gojo, geto and shoko shoving each other in the water. choso was on a towel beside you, deeply asleep and snoring. toji was playing around with megumi and nobara and yuji, who was yapping about how his uncle dropped him off and disappeared. everyone was enjoying themselves.

you were freezing.

you had gotten there earlier, having known they would all show up too late. you liked swimming alone with no eyes on you, so with too much sunscreen, you stayed in the water under the sun in what you knew was the perfect time for you. by the time everyone else arrived, you were already drying in the shade.

oh, how you wished you had a dry towel—

a dry towel dropped into your lap before the thought even finished. you froze, glancing up at the sky, before immediately closing your eyes again and wishing for a million dollars just in case.

“don’t stare at the fucking sun.”

ah. your genie.

you peaked through your lashes at sukuna, who glared at you, a hand going to shade your eyes from the sun. he was dry, holding a small bag which you assumed was for his wallet and phone and car keys and towel, the sun kissing every spot on his perfect body, as if purposely teasing you.

fuck. how could someone be so pretty?

he sighed, pulling a cap out of the bag. he pushed it on top of your damp hair, shading your face, and slumped beside you. “switch towels. mine is dry.”

“hi.” you mumbled dumbly, blinking a few times to snap yourself from the daze seeing his beautiful red eyes in the sun put you through. his lips twitched, face softening, and he only pulled the cap down further. you finally remembered how to think. “don’t you need your towel dry?”

“‘m not going into the water this late.” he stated. his eyes flickered to choso asleep, and he rolled his eyes, standing back up. you watched shamelessly as he effortlessly pulled the heavy umbrella so it was covering the sun kissed stoner, sighing, voice lower. “that dumbass.”

“i spray him with sunscreen every two hours. flipped him once.” you mused, taking the chance of sukuna being distracted to switch towels, sighing in relief once the warm, dry, soft towel wrapped around you. “thank you, kuna.”

“don’t mention it.” he grunted, then frowned once he registered your words, “you rub sunscreen on him?”

“oh, no, it’s a spray.” you hummed, pulling it out. “isn’t it cool?”

he glanced at the spray bottle, shoulders slowly relaxing. “mhm. it is. can you spray me?”

you nodded, moving to stand up, immediately stumbling in the towel. firm fingers immediately steadied you, and you deeply hoped he couldn’t feel the warmth radiating off you from being flustered as he slowly let go.

you slowly sprayed him, the sunscreen leaving a shiny coat that made him look even more beautiful. after making sure every part of him was covered, you slowly sat back down. “try to rub it to make sure it’s even.”

he hummed, eyes shut, slowly spreading it out, spreading it out on his tan skin.

what a fucking sight, really. he was so, unbelievably gorgeous. you were so fucked.

“…you went early, huh?”

“…yeah.” you mumbled, eyes still on him, hoping he keeps his eyes closed.

“tell me next time. ‘ll go with you.” he sighed. “these idiots always come when it’s already too cold.”

you nodded slowly as he finally finished, slumping next to you on the little beach mat gojo had gotten, so close that his thigh was pretty to your covered figure. he frowned. “your lips are pale. still cold?”

you grimaced. “‘ll be okay. thank you for the towel—“

he sighed, an arm wrapping around your shoulder before he was pulling you towards him. you missed the way his body relaxed, lips twitching into a repressed grin, the face of a man finally achieving one of his long lost goals.

holy fuck. you were pressed to his side, his body oozing warmth. he smelled great, and you could feel his muscles every time he shifted. as you stared ahead, trying to pretend like you weren’t malfunctioning, your eyes landed on shoko, gojo and geto staring back at you guys from the water, jaws slack.

well. at least it wasn’t you this time.

5. studying.

as much as it seemed otherwise, studying with gojo actually helped you. you both kept each other in check— you stopped him whenever he started yapping, and he distracted you whenever you were spiraling. you both were a team when studying— having been one since the first semester, when you both met.

during breaks, however, was when you really liked studying with gojo. you both sat with thirteen expensive pastries in front of you, gojo’s treat, and he grinned excitedly. “oh, this will be so good. you go first.”

“you don’t have to tell me twice.” you mumbled, picking one up. you immediately moaned in delight, holding the rest to gojo, who reached over and took the rest from between your fingers. “fuck. this is so good.”

gojo let out an even louder moan. you both ignored the disgusted glares from the people around you, happily chewing. “oh, these are fucking godsent. thank you for being my taste buddy.”

“thank you,” you mumbled, grabbing another one. “you’re the one spoiling me with these. you’re, like, my dream man right now.”

gojo let out a loud laugh, before pausing, shivering in horror at whatever he imagined. “do not let sukuna hear you saying that. he’ll have my head.”

“why would he have your head for that?” you mumbled, mouthful, and distracted by the heavenly taste of these. you weren’t even a fan of pasteries, but these were on another level. you tried another, and immediately groaned. “fuck. try this one.”

you immediately extended your hand out to gojo. he, as usual, ate half of it off your fingers instead, and dramatically melted in his seat. “ten out of ten. perfect. stunning. i will marry whoever made these.” he swallowed, and quickly ate the rest off your fingers to. “and he will because he’s, like, in love with you.”

“you flipping liar.” you mumbled, unamused with the obvious fake news. “he doesn’t. he’s just a good friend.”

“he’s not a good friend,” gojo snorted. “he almost shoved my head into the toilet bowl yesterday because he was bored. he likes you.”

you did not believe him the slightest. “uh-huh. wanna try the red one?”

“yes, please.”

later that night, you were curled up in bed— going over everything you had studied earlier to lock the information into your mind. the groupchat was blowing up after choso was caught kissing someone (you already knew the news. choso blurted about his ‘secret’ crush to you before when he was high, and forgot.) and you just shot back a sticker laughing, said you were studying and you needed more caffeine to deal with this, and shut your phone off completely.

you really needed caffeine.

everytime you shut your eyes, all you can see is a cold, cup of your favorite coffee from your favorite shop. the condensation running down, the inviting taste, everything—

fuck. you needed one so bad. you frowned, turning your phone on to glance at the time, and paused when a notification stood out from between the ones on the groupchat.

sukuna: pick u up for coffee in five?

you stared at the message, then slowly glanced down at the sweatpants and oversized hoodie you were in, your hair messy, broken glasses on because you were too lazy to get these specific ones fixed and you lost the other, before sighing. you needed caffeine too bad to worry about how you looked in front of him right now.

you: please :c

a car honked downstairs a few minutes. you quickly grabbed your wallet and your half-dead phone, rushing downstairs, grabbing an oversized jacket on the way so you could tug it on top of your thick hoodie, grimacing at how much of a mess you looked. you slid into the passenger seat, and sukuna only stared at you, eyes slowly taking in your appearance, lips softly pulling up.

“don’t say anything.” you immediately mumbled. his smirk widened, but he didn’t speak, immediately resuming to drive, eyes ahead. “‘m so sleepy.”

“uh-huh. let’s get some caffeine in you.” he murmured, turning more serious. “don’t overwork yourself tonight. did you have dinner?”

you nodded, ignoring how your heart felt like it was twirling in your chest. “i did. ate and drank and slept well.”

he hummed. “good.”

in the coffee shop, he got the same as you, paying despite your complaints. once the drinks were out, he grabbed both, wrapping yours in tissues to keep your fingers from being cold before handing it over, humming.

you were looking over notes in your phone, too tired to register his actions. you only quietly took the cup, immediately sipping, shoulders slowly rolling down, tense muscles relaxing. “thank you, kuna.”

he clicked his tongue. “don’t mention it.”

in the car, you focused on sipping the coffee, and he cleared his throat. “gojo said you two were on a study date this morning. pastries and shit. said you called him your dream man.”

you snorted. sukuna glanced over, utterly unamused, almost pouting. “i love gojo.”

his lips immediately formed a scowl. “you love him?”

“not like that,” you snorted. “he’s just… he was the first person who was nice to me in university, you know. the first person who made sure i never felt like a burden. he means a lot to me, platonically.”

he was silent for a while, then nodded, pulling up in front of your building. “good. you deserve to never feel like a burden. you… mean a lot to me.”

was he trying to kill you? you immediately shuffled out, heart beating like it was trying to escape your chest, cheeks burning. “you mean a lot to me too, kuna. um, goodnight. thank you for picking me up.”

“don’t mention it, angel.”

+1.

against your will, you were dragged to a party.

you would have been enthusiastic, really, if finals hadn’t just ended— leaving you too sleep deprived that you couldn’t even walk straight. gojo had came over to force you out and picked your outfit out for you, keeping in mind your pleads for it to be something warm, and you ended up in the passenger seat of his car, asleep soundly, vaguely aware of his whining about you needing to be awake as he drove you there.

you could only remember little snippets between your tiny naps, really.

gojo having his arm around you as he dragged you in.

you slumping down beside choso, immediately falling asleep on his shoulder.

sukuna crouching down in front of you, concerned, eyes worried.

sukuna covering you with a blanket.

sukuna sitting beside you, pulling your head into his shoulder instead.

geto replacing choso. you shifting, head falling into his shoulder because he was warmer.

sukuna immediately pulling you back towards him, an arm falling around your waist to keep you close, bickering with geto.

after that, you drifted into deep sleep— the kind that only came after a week straight of pulling all nighters. and, when you woke up again, you were wrapped in a blanket, on the roof, on a tiny couch with your head on sukuna’s lap and a cigarette between his lips.

the second he registered you awake, he pushed the cigarette into the ashtray, eyes soft, fingers on your shoulders to help you sit up. “you okay, angel?”

“mhm. sleepy.” you mumbled, blinking slowly, still half asleep. you yawned, rubbing your eyes. “thank you for watching over me, kuna. you’re, like, my angel.”

“…don’t mention it.” he whispered— although, it sounded more like a pained whimper. “i… yeah. don’t mention it.”

it was silent for a few minutes. you both stared up at the sky, lost in thought, before sukuna cleared his throat.

“…the stars are pretty.”

“mhm.”

he paused, before speaking again. his voice was low, soft, but it was laced with quiet frustration that you could tell wasn’t pointed at you. “we’re, uh, done with the semester.”

“…mhm.”

he clicked his tongue, and sat up, like he’s restarting. “…we’re good friends.”

“we are.” you mumbled, still dazed from your delicious, needed nap. he let out a small groan, face buried into his palm.

“fuck.”

“…kuna?” you murmured, voice soft, sleepy. his eyes finally flickered up, frustrated and almost disappointed in himself, and you only gave him a small, sleepy smile. “i like you too.”

and finally, it was his turn for his jaw to go slack, eyes widening, before he turned to you quickly. “you’re not fucking with me, right? you like me?”

you nodded, sleepy, but focused. “i like you.”

he didn’t hesitate before dropping to his knees in front of you, eyes soft and almost pathetic. “say that again. please.”

“i like you, kuna.” you repeated, quieter, softer, more serious.

he let his head drop, face pressed against the blanket covering your thighs briefly, voice muffled when he spoke. “…you have no idea how many years i have been dying to hear this, angel. fuck.” when he lifted his head back up, his red eyes were almost glossy. “‘m marrying the fuck out of you one day.”

that managed a sleepy laugh out of you. “take me on a date first, at least. we haven’t even kissed yet.”

his eyes lit up at the mere thought— before you watched him visibly holding himself back, trying to appear more relaxed, probably to not scare you off, despite his reddening ears at the idea. “right. dates. i will date you so fucking good, i promise, you will never think of anyone but me again. not even that stupid barista who clearly wants you so bad. only me.” he nodded, serious, scowling, before his eyes softened again. “best dates of your life. where do you want to go? dinner? coffee? aquarium? your little movie night routine at my place? do you want me to make it a surprise? i will be the best boyfriend— wait, fuck, not that yet—“

you reached over, softly pressing your lips to his,

he froze, eyes probably wide, then immediately melted the second your fingers gently cupped his face to pull him closer, letting out a soft, little sound into the kiss that had his face flushing further.

once you pulled away, your eyes met his dazed ones, and he slowly sucked in a deep breath. “….fuck.”

“dinner sounds good.” you whispered back, thumb brushing over his bottom lip, and he shut his eyes, as if it took visible effort not to groan. “next week?”

“you think ‘ll make it to next week?” he let out a sharp laugh. “you have me fucking kneeling for you, angel. tomorrow. 8. please.”

“okay.” you murmured, voice soft. “now, come back up, i will want to continue napping on you.”

“…anything you fucking want, forever.”

[semapathy]

ngh

[kinrain]

happy pride month and here's a very quick art I did