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✭ sports captain!sukuna who finds himself completely whipped for the university's most untouchable and elusive student, law student!reader.

you're working out in the sports facility again, airpods in your ears as you do your RDLs and focus on engaging your glutes.

unbeknownst to you, there's someone who's eyes can't stop wandering over to you even as he tries to concentrate on his reps. who's subconsciously memorized nearly every aspect of your campus schedule and has been thinking (more like obsessing) over you for the past few weeks and strategizing how to ask you out when so many suitors have attempted and been turned down on the spot.

don't worry though, it's not some middle aged creep who's been stalking you around the city, or a scrappy freshman with no experience in exercising whatsoever who thinks he stands a chance at bagging you while barely passing any of his classes.

shockingly, it's the universities most pined after athlete, the sports captain, sukuna.

it's almost pathetic really, how you've been occupying such a vast amount of space in his mind while dozens of girls are practically lining up in his dms and kissing up to his ass. that's exactly his problem- why? why is he so damn consumed by you, when you barely ever give him the time of day?

but that's the answer to his question. it's because you don't acknowledge him that his mind has conditioned itself into hyperfixating on you. it's because you've never been to his games to cheer in the bleachers when he scores, or thrown yourself at him during his house parties, hell, he's never seen you at any party.

you're completely unbothered by him, and now he's utterly bothered by you.

so that's why he finally says fuck it and stands up from his workout bench, grabbing his phone and walking towards the pool area 5 minutes after you've left to finish off your workout with a few laps.

he sees you immediately, swimming back and forth in such an elegant way that his heart does a stutter that only serves to irritate the campus king even more as he practically stomps over to the pool's edge, nearly seething as he watches you swim towards it.

you're about to turn back around before you notice his towering frame over you and pause, your annoyingly alluring eyes staring up at him in tentative confusion, "... do you need something, sukuna?"

it's not fair how his breath hitches from the sound of his name on your lips, and he has to stop himself from staring at your mouth before he looks back up at your eyes and his words tumble out of his in an uncoordinated mess.

"yes, actually. look, i don't know how the hell to say this- but- these past weeks i've been fucking distracted, by you, and i don't know what the fuck to do about it. you're like a parasite that's latched onto my skull and keeps on digging into my brain and it's driving me insane- i mean- you don't even look at me and quite frankly you're one of the most beautiful girls i've ever seen and you're so fucking smart it's infuriating- so," he pauses briefly to catch his breath, dragging a hand over his face to collect himself as he sighs.

"what i'm asking is... would you wanna go on a date with me some time? i've been meaning to ask you for, i don't even know how long, so if you're gonna say no, please do it now so i can start forcing myself to get over yo-"

"okay."

sukuna stops in his tracks, mind going blank as he looks down at you with narrowed eyes, his mind reeling from the whiplash of your calm reply. "huh?"

you have to fight to keep the smirk off your lips as you repeat once again, slower as if talking to a confused child. "i said okay, give me your phone so i can put in my number."

as if not really believing it he scans your face before hesitantly opening up his contacts and handing his phone over, his brows furrowed in perplexity as he watches your manicured fingers move across the screen and you hand it back to him.

"text me in the evening so we can make plans, i'm free on tuesday."

sukuna's in a state of shock all the way back to his apartment. is this some kind if dream? a cruel joke played by the universe that he'll wake up from any second now?

well, as he steps into his shower half an hour later, it doesn't seem to be either. and before he can stop it the idiot can't stop himself from breaking out into a full blown grin. his teammates will never hear the end of this.

©killfarrell. all rights are reserved to me and plagiarism is prohibited and will be reported. hope you guys liked it!

#🎀 — rebloggin’#fic rec

s9to

boyfriend sukuna who can't stop carrying you around!

you always told sukuna to stop carrying you like a baby, but. he never listens, if he wants to do it—he'll do it.

there you are on his shoulders, you wanted to be put down. your friends, yuki, utahime and, shoko, had already arrived at the party.

"babyy... put me down!" you whined, wiggling between his head. you really, really, wanted to be put down,

"can't baby, you look cute up there." he replied, kissing your leg.

it tickled

your friends, snickering. as they approached you both.

"my, my. we haven't even got into the pool and you both are already playing chicken fight?" utahime giggled, looking up at you.

"it seems you're giving [name] a hard time, sukuna." yuki laughed, patting your knee.

"h-hey! not my fault!" you yelled. you were gonna fall any minute now.

"whatever, girl. approach us when you're finally down. it's gettin’ hot." shoko replied, the three of them already heading outside to the pool.

"what a way to go, kuna.." you mumbled, your head turning back, avoiding his face. though you were on top of him.

he smirked then held you by the waist, you were already in your bikini. he removed his shirt, he ran towards the pool—

"wait! k-kuna!" you yelped, trying to free from his grasp.

"hold on tight baby!" he yelled, running to the pool and jumping in with you in his arms.

splash!

you then emerged from the water a couple seconds later.

god, you have just done your makeup a couple minutes ago!

"ryomen fucking sukuna" you whispered, but. all of them could hear.

oh no.

#🎀 — rebloggin’

i'm literally a whore for sukuna fics

#📁 — athena yappin’#sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen x you #sukuna smut #sukuna crack #ryomen sukuna angst #sukuna my love #ty jjk writers ilysm mwah mwah mwah

mononijikayu

“i warm my hands to touch you” — ryomen sukuna.

first year high schooler ryomen sukuna was starting to think volleyball had ruined his life. but it was not because he disliked it. if anything, the thought was opposite. quite annoyingly, he liked it far too much. much more than he thought he would possible. and frankly, it wouldn’t have been what he expected more than a year and a half ago for himself.

he liked the impact of a perfect spike against his palm. it just felt too good, feeling that satisfying burn in his muscles after practice. he enjoyed watching the ball slam into the floor hard enough to make people flinch.

in some ways, there was something addictive about becoming stronger at something so quickly, about seeing people stare at him with the same mixture of awe and caution they always had. except now it was on a volleyball court instead of outside convenience stores after fights.

volleyball had also introduced him to a very specific problem. that was the unbeatable concept, the most unfathomable concept in the universe. the push and pull of destiny, the endless crash of the waves. the concept of love….the concept of you.

it was something that he would have never thought of years ago, especially a year and a half ago. he wasn’t the type of boy who could have ever been good at being gentle, let alone be willing to let his guard down and be vulnerable for anything, for anyone.

but somehow, ever since he started dating you, the former red eyed devil of the streets, that young delinquent he was, was no longer there. Instead, all that remained is this young man, this ryomen sukuna who had been acting like a complete idiot. a complete, embarrassing, hopeless idiot, who was head over heels in love with you.

and the worst part was that nobody could even believe it. nobody at school would ever imagine the infamous former delinquent ryomen sukuna, the guy teachers kept an eye on out of habit, the guy with tattoos peeking from beneath his uniform collar, the guy who looked mean even while half-asleep, was internally losing his mind because his girlfriend looked too cute holding a pen.

he could not believe it at first, but he quickly realized that he was now that sort of boy he used to think were just fools. he was now constantly looking up, waiting for you to be in his bird’s eye view, hoping to catch a glimpse of you and be relieved.

you sat in the gym almost every afternoon during volleyball practice, student council work spread neatly across your lap while you waited for him to finish. sometimes the manager would offer you a chair closer to the heaters during colder days, but you always stayed near the court because, according to you, “i like watching my boyfriend play” and you repeated that all the time. which was a killer line.

because that sentence alone had nearly gotten him on his knees and made him realize that he couldn’t breathe the first time you said it. then each time you had said it, it had him fighting for his life. he couldn’t believe it. he was a boyfriend, and let alone, your boyfriend.

he couldn’t go without you now.

he just knows that he can’t do things without you.

how could he, when you are everything good in life?

today, practice had run late.the weather outside had shifted colder with the approaching rain, and even inside the gym, the air carried a chill that lingered against sweat-damp skin. the windows had fogged slightly near the corners, sunset light filtering weakly through the gray clouds overhead.

sukuna was exhausted, beyond comprehension. he could feel the way his head was fuzzy and light-headed. he dropped onto the bench beside you with a low exhale, towel hanging around his neck while he rolled one sore shoulder. his practice shirt clung slightly to his back, still damp from drills.

you looked up immediately from your paperwork. “there you are, i couldn’t see you.” you said softly. “i thought you left. its a good thing i saw your bag in here.”

“had to do the drill outside, for terrain practice.”

“you were doing extra spikes there, huh?”

“tch. coach asked, so i don’t panic when if the volleyball floor isn’t even.”

“you scared two first-years, i heard. you kept asking the senpais for help and you kept glaring at them.” you couldn’t help but say in a light tone. “you could have smiled a little you know.”

“they’ll survive without it.” he says as he takes his water bottle. “‘sides they aren’t you. why should they get my smile?”

“i suppose that’s fair enough.” you tell him. “though, you hit one hard enough that he ducked before the ball even crossed the net. be a bit more mindful next time.”

“he should learn instincts then.”

your lips twitched faintly, the one you had been suppressing for a little bit now. sukuna watched the tiny smile form and immediately felt that stupid feeling in his chest again. god, there it was.

that thing. that unbearable tightness whenever you looked amused by him.

he clicked his tongue and grabbed his water bottle instead, trying to ignore the fact he was staring. you noticed anyway, because you always noticed. you blinked your eyes adorably and you tilted your head slightly. “what?” you asked.

“nothing.”

“you’re staring again.”

“no, i’m not.”

“you absolutely are.”

sukuna glared at you weakly before unscrewing his water bottle. unfortunately, the moment his fingers curled around the cold metal, he remembered something. he looked at your hands for a moment. he starts to think for a moment, about the way you hated the cold.

it wasn’t dramatic, it wasn’t unreasonable either. and you don’t complain about it often. but he could just feel it, he could just see it. you couldn’t cope. you just got quietly miserable whenever temperatures dropped even slightly.

you tucked your hands into your sleeves. your nose turned pink. you complained under your breath about frozen fingers while trying to maintain your usual composed student-president image.

and sukuna, sukuna thought it was the cutest thing he had ever seen in his entire life. which was a serious problem. because now every time the weather got cold, every time a place felt cold, or when something was too cold to the touch, he couldn’t stop paying attention to you.

a few weeks ago, you’d grabbed his hand while walking home after rain. his muscular fingers had still been freezing from carrying an iced drink, and you’d immediately jerked in surprise before pouting up at him.

“your hands are cold, ‘kuna.” you’d complained quietly. “now mine are cold too.”

you hadn’t even sounded upset. if anything, you’d sounded clingy, almost like you expected him to fix it. sukuna had spent the entire night afterward staring at his ceiling because the memory kept replaying in his head.

now it had permanently altered his behavior, his train of thought, his perspectives. so while you sat beside him in the chilly gym, absentmindedly rubbing your sleeves over your hands for warmth, sukuna’s brain short-circuited instantly.

fuck, there you went again.

you looked too cute.

way too cute for him to handle.

you didn’t even realize you were doing it either, perhaps that was the worst part. your brows furrowed slightly as you tried warming your fingers beneath your sleeves while still reading over council papers, and sukuna physically had to look away for a second because something about it hit him directly in the chest.

how was anyone supposed to survive dating you?

“how are you cold already, babe?” he muttered roughly.

you glanced at him with mild offense. “because it’s freezing.”

“it is not.”

“‘kuna, i can literally see my breath outside.”

“that’s normal.”

“it shouldn’t be.”

you tucked your hands farther into your sleeves stubbornly, shoulders hunching a little against the cold air. and that, that right there nearly killed him. ryomen sukuna stared at you for a long second before dragging a hand down his face.

fuck it all, it was too much.

you were adorable.

actually adorable.

he hated this feeling. hated how soft you made him feel. hated how his chest kept tightening over things as stupid as your cold hands. before you could notice the crisis happening internally, sukuna abruptly started rubbing his palms together.

you blinked. “what are you doing right now?”

“nothing at all.”

“you’re aggressively warming your hands.”

“i said it’s nothing.”

then, dissatisfied, he shoved both hands underneath the collar of his shirt to warm them properly against his skin. your eyes widened slowly as realization hit your face all at once.

and then you smiled. you couldn’t help it, you couldn’t help look at him so fondly.

“oh my god…” you whispered.

“don’t.”

“you’re warming your hands up for me.”

sukuna wanted the floor to open beneath him. “you’re cold, okay?” he muttered defensively, refusing to look directly at you now. “you hate cold stuff.”

your expression softened so visibly it made his stomach flip. “‘kuna…”

“it’s annoying watching you complain.”

“i complained once.”

“you looked miserable.”

“because i was cold.”

“exactly.”

you stared at him for a moment longer, something unbearably affectionate settling in your expression. then you laughed quietly under your breath, so softly, it felt like a feather had landed on his skin, carefully placing its tenderness against him. sukuna felt like his organs were rearranging themselves.

“you’re seriously so sweet, aren’t you, kuna?” you said.

sukuna almost choked. sweet? him? absolutely not. “you’re hallucinating, babe.”

“you’re warming your hands because mine get cold.”

“you act like you’re dying every time the temperature drops below twenty.”

“because cold weather is evil.”

“there’s something wrong with you.”

“you still like me.”

unfortunately, that was true. painfully true. and there was nothing he could do about it. sukuna finally pulled his hands back out from beneath his shirt before awkwardly holding one toward you, still refusing eye contact. “here.”

you looked down at his hand, then back at him. and suddenly your entire expression melted. sukuna immediately knew he was finished. because there it was again. that look. that impossibly soft, affectionate look that made him feel like he’d been punched directly in the chest.

carefully, you slipped your hand into his. the second your fingers touched, your eyes brightened slightly.

“they’re warm.” you said quietly.

the happiness in your voice over something so small genuinely made sukuna’s brain stop functioning. fuck. fuck, you were cute. you held his hand with both of yours now like you were stealing his warmth, shoulders relaxing immediately.

“‘kuna, you’re so good at everything you know?” you murmured, looking absurdly content, “how could you just fix everything so easily? you’re like a healer…..no, no, you’re like my personal heater.”

that did it. that actually did it. sukuna felt his entire face heat instantly as he stared at you in disbelief. you were holding his hand against your cheek now, eyes half-lidded in comfort from the warmth, and sukuna genuinely thought he might die right there in the middle of the gymnasium.

how could someone act like this and not realize what they were doing to him? how could you just cross the boundaries and make the greys turn into a rainbow? his heartbeat was so loud it was annoying. you noticed his silence and blinked up at him innocently. “what?”

sukuna looked away immediately, jaw tense. “…nothing.”

“you’re blushing.”

“no, i’m not.”

“you are.”

“it’s hot in here.”

“you said it was cold.”

“tch.”

you laughed softly again before squeezing his hand tighter, still warming your fingers against his palm. and sukuna, he couldn’t do anything else. sukuna looked at you curled against his warmth like trusting him came naturally, like loving him was easy, and felt something helpless bloom painfully inside his chest.

because nobody had ever needed gentleness from him before. nobody had ever looked this happy just because he remembered something small about them. he stared at your intertwined hands for a moment before muttering under his breath, almost too quietly to hear, he says, “you’re gonna ruin me.”

you blinked. “hm?”

“nothing.”

but you smiled anyway, like maybe you’d heard him after all. and while the gym buzzed faintly around you with distant voices and squeaking shoes, ryomen sukuna sat there completely lovestruck, warming your hands between his own like it was the most important job in the world.

“i really do like you, ‘kuna.” you whispered to him softly, feeling warmth all over your face. “i promise, by next week…i’ll figure out what my nickname is for you….it can’t just be you who has a cute one for me.”

he could feel his blush intensify. he lowers his head. “y–you don’t have to say shit like that—fuck….”

“‘kuna, are you okay?”

“I…i’m fine! just…just keep letting my hands warm you, okay?....i warmed my hands to touch you….just…just let it warm you up.”

"alright, alright....tsundere."

"i am not a tsundere—babe!"

"hm...i believe you."

he blushed even more.

he knew you were right.

he just won't admit it.

".....just keep warm, okay?"

"okay." you smiled.

epilogue

years later, olympic volleyball legend ryomen sukuna still warmed his hands before touching yours. it had become such an ingrained habit that he no longer consciously thought about it anymore. whenever the weather turned cold, whenever rain tapped against the windows or winter air slipped beneath doorframes, his body simply moved on instinct. rub his palms together. warm them against hot water or the fabric of his sweater. then reach for you.

you noticed every single time. this morning, rain drizzled softly outside the apartment while pale gray light filled the kitchen. the heater hummed near the corner, but apparently not enough for you, because you stood near the counter bundled in one of sukuna’s old hoodies with your hands tucked deep into the sleeves.

your nose was pink from the cold. sukuna thought you looked ridiculous. ridiculously cute for your own good. you frowned down at your coffee mug like it had personally betrayed you. “why is the floor cold?”

“because it’s winter, babe.” sukuna answered from the table without looking up. “bound to be cold iike this.”

“well i don't like it.....winter is evil.” you sniffle.

“you say that every year.”

“because every year it’s true.”

he finally glanced toward you then and immediately felt that familiar ache settle warmly in his chest. years later, and you still looked exactly the same whenever you were cold. the tiny pout. the way your shoulders hunched slightly. the way you curled your fingers into your sleeves like a disgruntled cat.

sukuna had once believed he would eventually grow used to loving you. nstead, it seemed to get worse with time. he still is overwhelmed each and every time by how much he feels for you, by how deep the depths get when it comes to you. yet he wouldn't trade this for the world. not one bit.

you sighed dramatically before shuffling toward him across the kitchen. “my hands are freezing.”

“that sounds like a personal problem.”

“you’re so mean to me.”

“do you want some hot cocoa?”

“.....yes, please. thank you.”

“already have it on the kettle, babe.” he says from his seat, smiling. “give it a few minutes, okay?”

“......okay.”

almost instinctively after that, you still moved directly between his legs where he sat at the table, leaning against him automatically. sukuna’s hands settled on your waist without thought.

then, after a brief pause, he clicked his tongue softly and pulled one hand away. you watched silently as he reached toward the sink, running warm water over his palms for several seconds first.

a smile slowly spread across your face. “still doing that, huh?” you asked quietly.

sukuna dried his hands with a towel before looking back at you. “doing what?”

“warming your hands before touching me.”

“your hands get cold.”

“so?”

“so i don’t like when you complain about it.”

you laughed softly beneath your breath, and sukuna immediately felt his heartbeat stutter in the same humiliating way it always had.

he still remembered being sixteen years old and internally panicking in the school gym because your fingers had gotten cold from his.

now, years later, he was married to you, living with you, waking up beside you every morning and somehow he still reacted exactly the same.

you reached for him the second he held his hands out, slipping your smaller freezing ones into his warm palms with an immediate relieved sigh. “there he is.” you murmured happily. “my human heater.”

sukuna rolled his eyes, but his grip tightened automatically around your fingers. then he noticed the tiny pleased smile spreading across your face while you warmed your hands against his.

fucking hell.

still cute.

still unfairly cute.

he leaned down to kiss your forehead, already feeling that familiar helpless warmth blooming in his chest, when tiny footsteps suddenly pattered through the path of the hallway.

both of you turned. ryomen sukumi stood there sleepily in oversized bear-print pajamas, one tiny fist rubbing against her eye while her stuffed rabbit dragged limply behind her.

sukuna froze immediately. because somehow, every single morning, seeing his daughter still caught him off guard. one-year-old sukumi was so much like you it was honestly ridiculous.

your rounded cheeks. the same whimsy in your eyes. your adorable expressions. your habits. especially your habits. she may be his carbon copy but everything she is, all he can see is you and only you.

right now, she stood in the middle of the hallway with her tiny hands shoved deep into her pajama sleeves exactly the same way you did. same pout too. same betrayed expression toward the cold air.

sukuna physically felt something cave in his chest at the sight. you noticed immediately and bit back a smile. “good morning, kumi, my baby.” you said softly. “you're already up?”

sukumi looked at you with watery sleepy eyes before mumbling miserably, “cold…”

and there it was. that same exact tone you used every winter morning. the kettle was sounding but all he could hear was that sound, like back then. that tenderness of his heartbeat at the sight of this wonder. sukuna stared at his daughter in complete silence while realization slowly settled over him all over again.

she was exactly like you, in everything.

sukumi waddled farther into the kitchen before lifting both tiny arms upward dramatically. “mama…'kumi cold.”

you crouched instantly, brushing her messy hair back. “your hands are cold?”

sukumi nodded sadly. “very cold.”

sukuna watched the entire interaction with narrowing eyes as he turned off the kettle. he could not take his sight of you and sukumi. because she even complained like you. this was unbelievable. and yet all he could think was, how wonderful this was. how the two pieces of you two made someone as lovable and tender and cute as you, his beloved wife.

you glanced over your shoulder at him, visibly trying not to laugh. “my love.”

“don’t.”

“you’re making the face again.”

“what face, pray tell?”

“the one where you realize your daughter inherited all my habits.”

“she’s dramatic.”

“you think i’m dramatic too.”

“because you are.”

before you could argue, sukumi suddenly turned toward him instead, tiny hands still hidden inside her sleeves “dada, dada.” she mumbled.

sukuna’s expression softened immediately despite himself. “what, kumibear? what do you need from dada?”

“warm, kumi...kumi want warm.”

goodness gracious.

he was doomed.

completely doomed.

because now she was looking at him with the exact same expression you used whenever asking him to warm your hands. same hopeful eyes. same tiny pout. same complete trust that he would take care of it. sukuna exhaled slowly through his nose before crouching in front of her.

“c’mere, kumibear.”

sukumi toddled forward instantly. and before even touching her, sukuna rubbed his palms together first. almost as if she just knew fully well that this was the best thing she can do to put herself at ease, almost so instinctive that she curls intp his warmth immediately.

he does same thing he’d been doing for years. he puts his warm touch on hers. you watched quietly from nearby while he carefully took sukumi’s tiny hands between his own warm ones.

the second the warmth reached her fingers, sukumi visibly brightened. her little shoulders relaxed. her eyes widened slightly in relief. then she smiled so big, so comfortably.

and sukuna genuinely thought his heart stopped. because it was your smile. exactly your smile. when gratitude was shared, when good moments were experienced, when love was wholeheartedly given without any boundaries. this was you. all that he had loved of you, in your daughter's smile.

“warm, dada.” sukumi whispered happily before immediately pressing his hands closer against her cheeks. "kumi loves."

you made a tiny strangled sound beside him, clearly trying not to laugh at his expression. sukuna glanced up at you flatly. “don’t start.”

“you look emotional.”

“i’m not emotional.”

“you absolutely are.”

because he was.

he really was.

he couldn't help it.

this was everything.

all he wanted then, as a kid.

he had it now, with you.

sukuna looked back down at sukumi happily holding his hands against her face while leaning trustingly into his warmth, and suddenly he was struck with the overwhelming realization that this was his life now.

you. your daughter. these cold hands every winter morning. the tiny domestic moments that somehow felt bigger than anything else. and worst of all, he loved it to bits. he loved all of it so much it honestly made him feel sick sometimes.

you moved beside him then, resting your chin lightly on his shoulder while sukumi continued clinging to his hands. “look at her, my love.” you whispered fondly. “she does the same face i do.”

“yeah, she does.” sukuna muttered quietly, unable to stop staring at her. “i noticed.”

you smiled knowingly. because you understood exactly what was happening to him. years ago, sixteen-year-old sukuna had nearly combusted over you holding his warmed hands in a cold gym after volleyball practice.

now he sat on the kitchen floor with your daughter clinging to his palms the exact same way while you leaned affectionately against his shoulder, and somehow he was even more hopelessly in love than before.

"does kumibear want hot cocoa too? like mama?"

sukumi nodded against him. "cocoa, papa."

"that sounds wonderful." you whispered, pressing a kiss on his shoulder.

loovergurl