Cosimo Galluzzi
Acquired Stardust

Love Begins
KIROKAZE

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣

Andulka

#extradirty
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
dirt enthusiast

Product Placement
Game of Thrones Daily

titsay
hello vonnie

Kaledo Art
Xuebing Du

tannertan36
Sweet Seals For You, Always

pixel skylines
styofa doing anything
Jules of Nature

seen from France

seen from United States

seen from Argentina
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from India

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from T1

seen from United States

seen from Belgium
seen from Bangladesh
seen from Türkiye

seen from United States
seen from Sweden

seen from Italy

seen from United Kingdom

seen from Singapore

seen from United States
seen from Brazil
@moonlesslights
Wakatoshi Ushijima, who takes such good care of you, it almost makes you feel bad sometimes.
His love language is definitely acts of service and he just loves handling everything for you.
In his eyes, you shouldn’t have to worry about a thing because that’s what he’s for.
Grocery shopping? He knows you don’t like the fuss of crowded stores, plus he already has all your favorites memorized. He even notices when you’re running low on things before you do!
Tired? He loves carrying you, like genuinely loves it, so the second you even hint that your feet hurt he’s already crouching slightly in front of you telling you to hop on, little smile gracing his lips.
Don’t wanna drive? He prefers having you as his pretty little passenger anyway, one hand resting on your thigh while he drives, quietly glancing over at you every now and then just to make sure you’re comfortable. Plus, who would DJ?
Most of the things he does for you aren’t even intentional anymore, just instinct. He automatically walks on the outside of the sidewalk, keeps extra hair ties and lip balm on him “just in case,” always notices when you’re overwhelmed or ready to leave.
One time, you make the mistake of jokingly calling yourself spoiled after he carries both you and all the grocery bags into the apartment without letting you touch a single thing.
He genuinely stops in his tracks, gives you the most confused look you’ve ever seen, and simply goes, “Isn’t that how it should be?”
Like the idea of not taking care of you literally doesn’t make sense to him.
He doesn’t do things because he feels obligated to, he does them because loving you makes him want to make your life easier in every way possible.
He’s not overly verbal or dramatic with affections and sometimes he struggles to put his feelings into words. Talkings not his strong suit (really, he’d rather listen to you talk all day anyway).
But showing you?
That he can do.
In a hundred quiet little ways every single day.
Through warm food waiting for you when you get home, the silly moments filled with laughter reserved just for you, always making sure you get home safe, and every tiny thing he remembers about you without fail.
His love is dependable, quiet, and beautifully overwhelming all at once.
He silently reminds you every single day, that you’re not too much to handle. He’s always got you covered, like it’s just second nature to him.
————————————————————————
A/N: I ❤️ big beefy men, toshi I need to nibble on u plz
Wakatoshi Ushijima, who takes such good care of you, it almost makes you feel bad sometimes.
His love language is definitely acts of service and he just loves handling everything for you.
In his eyes, you shouldn’t have to worry about a thing because that’s what he’s for.
Grocery shopping? He knows you don’t like the fuss of crowded stores, plus he already has all your favorites memorized. He even notices when you’re running low on things before you do!
Tired? He loves carrying you, like genuinely loves it, so the second you even hint that your feet hurt he’s already crouching slightly in front of you telling you to hop on, little smile gracing his lips.
Don’t wanna drive? He prefers having you as his pretty little passenger anyway, one hand resting on your thigh while he drives, quietly glancing over at you every now and then just to make sure you’re comfortable. Plus, who would DJ?
Most of the things he does for you aren’t even intentional anymore, just instinct. He automatically walks on the outside of the sidewalk, keeps extra hair ties and lip balm on him “just in case,” always notices when you’re overwhelmed or ready to leave.
One time, you make the mistake of jokingly calling yourself spoiled after he carries both you and all the grocery bags into the apartment without letting you touch a single thing.
He genuinely stops in his tracks, gives you the most confused look you’ve ever seen, and simply goes, “Isn’t that how it should be?”
Like the idea of not taking care of you literally doesn’t make sense to him.
He doesn’t do things because he feels obligated to, he does them because loving you makes him want to make your life easier in every way possible.
He’s not overly verbal or dramatic with affections and sometimes he struggles to put his feelings into words. Talkings not his strong suit (really, he’d rather listen to you talk all day anyway).
But showing you?
That he can do.
In a hundred quiet little ways every single day.
Through warm food waiting for you when you get home, the silly moments filled with laughter reserved just for you, always making sure you get home safe, and every tiny thing he remembers about you without fail.
His love is dependable, quiet, and beautifully overwhelming all at once.
He silently reminds you every single day, that you’re not too much to handle. He’s always got you covered, like it’s just second nature to him.
————————————————————————
A/N: I ❤️ big beefy men, toshi I need to nibble on u plz
Wakatoshi Ushijima, who takes such good care of you, it almost makes you feel bad sometimes.
His love language is definitely acts of service and he just loves handling everything for you.
In his eyes, you shouldn’t have to worry about a thing because that’s what he’s for.
Grocery shopping? He knows you don’t like the fuss of crowded stores, plus he already has all your favorites memorized. He even notices when you’re running low on things before you do!
Tired? He loves carrying you, like genuinely loves it, so the second you even hint that your feet hurt he’s already crouching slightly in front of you telling you to hop on, little smile gracing his lips.
Don’t wanna drive? He prefers having you as his pretty little passenger anyway, one hand resting on your thigh while he drives, quietly glancing over at you every now and then just to make sure you’re comfortable. Plus, who would DJ?
Most of the things he does for you aren’t even intentional anymore, just instinct. He automatically walks on the outside of the sidewalk, keeps extra hair ties and lip balm on him “just in case,” always notices when you’re overwhelmed or ready to leave.
One time, you make the mistake of jokingly calling yourself spoiled after he carries both you and all the grocery bags into the apartment without letting you touch a single thing.
He genuinely stops in his tracks, gives you the most confused look you’ve ever seen, and simply goes, “Isn’t that how it should be?”
Like the idea of not taking care of you literally doesn’t make sense to him.
He doesn’t do things because he feels obligated to, he does them because loving you makes him want to make your life easier in every way possible.
He’s not overly verbal or dramatic with affections and sometimes he struggles to put his feelings into words. Talkings not his strong suit (really, he’d rather listen to you talk all day anyway).
But showing you?
That he can do.
In a hundred quiet little ways every single day.
Through warm food waiting for you when you get home, the silly moments filled with laughter reserved just for you, always making sure you get home safe, and every tiny thing he remembers about you without fail.
His love is dependable, quiet, and beautifully overwhelming all at once.
He silently reminds you every single day, that you’re not too much to handle. He’s always got you covered, like it’s just second nature to him.
————————————————————————
A/N: I ❤️ big beefy men, toshi I need to nibble on u plz
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.”
sukuna is unexpectedly affectionate in private (˵ ¬ᴗ¬˵)
it’s quiet except for the low tapping of rain against the window and the occasional rustle of blankets every time sukuna shifts against you.
which is quite often.
for someone who acts like affection is beneath him, he’s currently half sprawled across your chest like an oversized cat, one arm heavy around your waist.
you look down at him for a second, making sure his eyes are still closed, before reaching for your phone as carefully as possible.
“mhmm, keep scratching riiight there,” he mutters lazily.
you bite back a grin. “hmm, you like that?”
his grip tightens, pulling you closer until your legs tangle together beneath the blankets. one of his hands lazily traces shapes against your hip.
he’s completely relaxed— nobody would ever believe this version of him exists.
which is exactly why you start recording.
the phone captures the way his face softens, the way he leans into your touch, and the faintest hint of a smirk pulling at his mouth when you scratch lightly at the right spot.
“you’re sooo spoiled,” you whisper.
“tch, by who?”
“me, duh.”
he hums thoughtfully. “suppose you’re useful for something.”
“wow. you’re sooo romantic.”
“you know how i feel about you, woman,” he mutters. “don’t make me say it.”
you just grin down at your phone screen.
especially when he shifts upward just enough to press his face against your chest dramatically after you stop petting his hair for two seconds.
“jeez,” you whisper. “clingy much?”
“careful.”
“hm? or what?”
“i’ll remind you who’s in charge.”
despite the threat, his voice is rough with sleep, quieter than usual. affectionate in that awful sukuna way where every sweet thing sounds vaguely dangerous.
you’re still smiling at the screen when his gaze suddenly flickers upward, and straight to your phone.
you watch the realization hit him in real time.
“…are you filming me?” his expression twists into horror first, before hardening into his usual glare as he jerks upright.
“delete it.”
“no.”
“delete it now.”
“you were being cute.”
his eyes widen a fraction. “give me the phone.”
you scramble backward across the bed before he can grab you, laughing when he lunges and misses by inches.
“nuh-uh!”
“you insignificant—”
“maybe.. i’ll show uraume.”
dead silence, and the look on his face is murderous.
“you wouldn’t dare.”
your grin turns evil. “oh, i would.”
he’s off the bed instantly, and so are you.
you shriek laughing as you sprint out of the bedroom, nearly tripping over your own feet while sukuna storms after you.
“get back here, now!”
“uraume deserves to know you’re secretly pathetic—”
“i’ll burn that device if i have to.”
“you were totally acting all soft!”
“THAT IS NOT WHAT HAPPENED.”
you’re wheezing by the time you dart down the hallway, clutching your phone to your chest while he gains on you with terrifying speed, then suddenly strong arms wrap around your waist from behind, and you yelp as he lifts you clean off the ground.
“caught you.”
“i’m sorry— no, no, no!”
he pries your phone from your hands with annoyance while you laugh uncontrollably.
he glares down at the screen, pulls up the video, and watches exactly three seconds of himself melting into your touch.
“…this shall never be seen by anyone else.”
you grin. “but you looked adorable!”
“say another word and i’m never cuddling you again.”
“empty threats!” you hum.
yes it’s inspired by that one tiktok trend
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.
Frat!sukuna x soft!reader
In which sukuna gets shy and forgets how to speak when you fix his chain in front of his frat brothers
A reference to this series
It’s a friday night.
You had come over to the frat house after class, by now it was normal for you to randomly show up. It was the end of the week, with your body and mind both sore and tired from all the work you’ve done all week , eyes heavy, you went straight to sukuna’s room, plopped on his bed, and drifted to sleep.
How many hours had passed since you fell asleep , Three? Four? You don’t even know , you sit up , rubbing the sleep out of your eyes , with no signs of sukuna around, your throat is so dry it feels like thorns are pricking at it.
Now you were downstairs looking for water.
Unbeknownst to you, everyone’s already there ,
The second you stepped into the kitchen, Shoko noticed you first.
Then Sukuna.
And just like always, something in him changed immediately.
He’d been leaning against the counter beside Toji and Geto, lazily picking apart some story Gojo was telling while half the room listened in amusement. Tattoos stretched beneath the sleeves of his black shirt, rings catching against the fluorescent kitchen light every time he gestured.
He looked Confident and Sharp-edged. Like he always did.
Then his eyes landed on you and as soon as they did,His posture straightened subtly.
The tension in his jaw eased.
Like his entire nervous system recalibrated.
You walked over quietly, still sleepy enough that you barely noticed everyone watching. Sukuna’s gaze followed you the entire way until you stopped in front of him.
“You okay?” he asked immediately.
“Mhm.” Your voice came out soft from exhaustion. Then your eyes caught on the silver chain hanging crooked beneath the collar of his shirt. “Your chain’s twisted.”
“Huh?”
Without thinking much of it, you stepped closer.
Conversation around the kitchen slowly faded.
Your fingers brushed lightly against the cool metal resting against his throat as you fixed the clasp, carefully straightening where it had turned sideways against his skin.
And Sukuna went completely still and no,
Not in a dramatic way.
But the kind where someone forgets how to function entirely.
His hand tightened slightly around the cup he was holding while he stared down at you, breathing quieter ,shoulders stiff beneath your touch.
Gojo blinked. Then blinked again.
“No fucking way.”
You didn’t even notice.
You were too focused on fixing the chain properly, fingers brushing against the warm skin of his neck every few seconds.
“There,” you murmured finally. “Better.”
Silence.
You looked up confused.
Every single person in the kitchen was staring.
Toji looked moments away from losing consciousness laughing. Geto had physically covered his mouth trying to hide a grin while Shoko watched like she’d just witnessed a rare astronomical event.
Gojo pointed directly at Sukuna.
“HE’S BLUSHING.”
Your eyes snapped back upward instantly And there it was.
Faint pink dusting across Sukuna’s ears and creeping slowly over the bridge of his nose while he looked at you like his brain had short-circuited.
Your lips parted slightly to say something,
“…wait.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Sukuna muttered towards Gojo without taking his eyes off you once.
That only made everyone laugh harder.
“Oh this is BAD,” Geto said through laughter. “He’s gone.”
“To think,” Shoko sighed dramatically, “the campus plague finally domesticated.”
“Fuck off.” He told them.
But there was no bite in it.
Not really.
Because you were still standing close enough for him to feel the warmth coming off your body, your fingers lightly resting against his chest after fixing the chain.
And Sukuna looked wrecked by it.
You smiled , you just couldn’t hold it in.
“Aww,” you teased softly. “You’re embarrassed?”
His eyes narrowed immediately, but it lacked its usual sharpness.
“Don’t start.”
“You’re literally red.”
“I am not.”
“You kinda are,” Toji interrupted giddily.
Gojo looked ready to pass away from excitement. “I HAVE NEVER SEEN THIS MAN EXPERIENCE HUMAN EMOTION.”
Before you could say anything else, Sukuna suddenly grabbed your wrist gently and tugged you against his chest.
A small startled sound left you as his arm settled around your waist instinctively, keeping you tucked against his side like proximity itself calmed him down.
“Enough,” he muttered lowly.
But when you tilted your head up at him, smiling still lingering on your lips, the blush deepened anyway.
And the kitchen absolutely lost its mind.
“HE GOT SHY.”
“THIS IS INSANE.”
“Somebody take a picture.”
“I’m gonna be sick,” Gojo announced dramatically.
Sukuna flipped everyone off immediately.
Yet even while doing it, his thumb rubbed absentminded circles against your waist beneath the hoodie.
Like touching you had already become second nature to him.
He had learnt to be gentle with you at all times, which was kinda shocking for someone like him, but he did.
And when you reached up one more time to flatten the collar of his shirt, Sukuna leaned down automatically without even realizing he’d done it.
The room erupted so loudly someone from upstairs yelled asking if a fight broke out.
Everyone was enjoying this way to much.
Meanwhile Sukuna buried his face briefly against the top of your head, muttering,
“You’re never coming downstairs with me again.”
You could only laugh a little because you know that’s far from the truth.
Note : i want to write so much fluff for them 🤍
the day Sukuna realized he needs to marry you.
Ryomen Sukuna was having the kind of day that made him want to commit a felony.
Work had been an absolute, unmitigated disaster. His clients were being brain-dead idiots, his emails had been piling up since 6:00 AM, and his boss had the audacity to drop a massive, last-minute project on his desk right as he was packing up to leave. By the time he finally unlocked the front door to your shared apartment, his jaw was clenched so tight his teeth ached. He was exhausted, he was pissed off, and he was fully prepared to pour himself a massive glass of whiskey and not speak to a single soul for the rest of the night.
He pushed the door open, dropping his keys into the bowl by the entrance with a loud, aggressive clatter. He shrugged off his suit jacket, loosening his tie with a harsh yank.
“I’m home,” he called out, his voice a low, gravelly grumble.
He expected you to be in the kitchen, or maybe curled up on the couch watching some trashy reality TV show. He expected you to ask him how his day was, which would inevitably lead to him ranting for twenty minutes straight.
Instead, there was silence.
Sukuna frowned, his bad mood spiking just a fraction. He walked down the hallway and stepped into the living room.
He stopped dead in his tracks.
You were sitting cross-legged on the floor, hunched over the coffee table. The entire surface was completely covered in hundreds of microscopic, brightly colored plastic bricks. You were wearing one of his oversized t-shirts, your hair tied up in a messy bun that was slowly falling apart.
But the best part? The absolute most ridiculous, endearing part?
You were squinting so hard your nose was scrunched up, and the very tip of your tongue was poking out of the corner of your mouth in pure, unadulterated concentration. Your fingers, which were currently trying to snap a tiny, translucent green piece onto a microscopic brown cylinder, were trembling slightly from the effort.
You hadn’t even heard him come in. You were entirely, completely consumed by your task.
Sukuna stood there in the doorway, his suit jacket dangling from his fingers. He didn’t say a word. He just watched you.
You were a serial hobbyist. Every month, it was something new. Knitting, painting by numbers, making weird little clay frogs that currently haunted his nightstand. He usually just rolled his eyes, funded your little hyper-fixations, and let you do your thing.
But this? This tiny, intricate Lego flower shop you had apparently bought today? It had you in a chokehold.
Snap.
The tiny green piece finally clicked into place.
You let out a massive, dramatic gasp of victory, throwing your hands up in the air like you had just won the Super Bowl. “Yes! Take that, you stupid little plastic bitch!”
Sukuna let out a sudden, loud snort.
You jumped, spinning around so fast you nearly knocked over a pile of pink bricks. When you saw him standing there, your eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. The sheer, radiant joy on your face was blinding.
“Babe!” you squealed, scrambling up onto your knees. You carefully scooped up the tiny, completed structure in your hands and held it out toward him like it was the Holy Grail. “Baby, look! Look what I did!”
Sukuna slowly walked over, dropping his jacket onto the sofa. He looked down at your hands.
It was a tiny, incredibly detailed Lego flower shop. And sitting right in front of it was a single, slightly lopsided plastic rose that you had clearly customized.
“I made you this one,” you beamed, your chest puffing out with pride. You were practically vibrating with excitement. “It’s for your desk at work! Because you said your office is depressing! Do you like it?!”
Sukuna stared at the tiny plastic flower. Then, he looked at you.
You had a faint smudge of left over dinner on your cheek. Your oversized shirt was slipping off one shoulder. You were looking up at him with such pure, unfiltered adoration and excitement over a piece of plastic that it actually knocked the breath out of his lungs.
And just like that, it happened.
The stress of the last fourteen hours? Gone. The anger at his clients? Evaporated. The tension in his shoulders, the pounding headache behind his eyes, the overwhelming urge to burn his office building to the ground? It all just melted away, completely washed out by the sheer force of your ridiculous, beaming smile.
He didn’t just love you. That wasn’t a strong enough word anymore.
He looked at you, sitting on the floor surrounded by plastic bricks, offering him a fake flower to make his bad day better, and a single, crystal-clear thought rang through his head like a bell.
I need to marry this girl.
Not ‘I want to.’ Not ‘someday.’ Need. He needed to marry your crazy ass. He needed to lock this down permanently, because if he had to go through the rest of his miserable, stressful life without coming home to you poking your tongue out over a Lego set, he was going to lose his fucking mind.
“Sukuna?” you blinked, your smile faltering just a little when he didn’t immediately respond. You lowered your hands slightly. “Do you… not like it? I know it’s kind of dumb, but—”
“Shut up,” he breathed, his voice thick.
Before you could even process the command, he dropped to his knees right in front of you, completely ignoring the fact that he was crushing at least ten Lego pieces under his expensive suit pants.
He reached out, his large hands gently cupping your face. He didn’t even look at the flower shop. His red eyes were locked entirely on yours, burning with an intensity that made your heart stutter in your chest.
“Babe?” you whispered, suddenly hyper-aware of how close he was. “Are you okay? Was work bad?”
“Work was a fucking nightmare,” he murmured, his thumbs brushing over your cheekbones. “But I don’t care anymore.”
“You don’t?”
“No.” He leaned in, pressing his forehead against yours. He let out a long, shaky exhale, the last of his stress leaving his body. “I love it, baby. It’s perfect. I’m putting it right in the middle of my desk.”
Your smile instantly returned, brighter than before. “Really?!”
“Really,” he chuckled, the sound deep and vibrating against your skin. He tilted your chin up, capturing your lips in a slow, desperate kiss. It wasn’t heated or rough; it was incredibly soft, filled with a kind of overwhelming reverence that made your toes curl.
When he finally pulled back, he kept his face inches from yours. He looked down at your lips, then back up to your eyes.
“I’m gonna marry you,” he said.
It wasn’t a proposal. It wasn’t a question. It was a statement of absolute, undeniable fact. He said it casually, like he was commenting on the weather, but the weight behind his words was heavy enough to anchor a ship.
Your brain short-circuited. You sat there, frozen, the tiny Lego flower shop still clutched in your hands. “What?”
“You heard me,” he smirked, his usual arrogant confidence bleeding back into his tone. He leaned in and pressed a loud, wet kiss to your cheek, then your jaw, then the sensitive skin just below your ear. “I’m gonna marry your crazy ass. Put a ring on your finger so big you won’t be able to lift your hand to build these stupid little toys.”
“They’re not stupid!” you squawked, your face flushing bright red as his words finally registered. “And you can’t just drop that on me while I’m holding a Lego!”
“I just did,” he laughed, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you flush against his chest, completely ruining your posture. He buried his face in your neck.
You let out a breathless, watery laugh, carefully setting the flower shop down on the table before wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders. You ran your fingers through his pink hair, feeling the last of the tension bleed out of his muscles.
“Okay,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Okay, Ryomen.”
“Good,” he mumbled against your skin. He shifted slightly, his knee crunching against a pile of plastic. He winced. “Now, help me up. I think a fucking Lego is embedded in my kneecap.”
“I told you to take your work pants off first!”
“Just kiss me again and shut up.”
“scientists don’t want you know” is a phrase that always cracks me up because if you actually meet a scientist they will be shaking and crying like an overstimulated chihuahua with the need to let you know
frat!kuna giving you a bouquet of flowers made from LEGO
When you opened the door, you were fully expecting Sukuna to be standing there with his usual bored expression, hands shoved into his pockets, probably already complaining about having to come over.
What you didn’t expect was the bouquet.
Not just any bouquet either. Pink roses—your favourite colour—carefully arranged and held a little awkwardly in his hands. And then it hit you.
They weren’t real flowers.
They were LEGO flowers.
Your brain short-circuited for a good few seconds as you just stood there, staring, jaw completely slack. The silence stretched on, and Sukuna shifted on his feet, clearly uncomfortable under your stare. He scoffed, clicking his tongue as his free hand came up to rub at the back of his neck.
“Tch… take them,” he muttered, shoving the bouquet toward you like it was going to explode if he held it any longer.
“Sukuna…” you started, your smile growing wider and wider as the realization fully settled in. Sukuna. The same guy who scared people just by existing. The same guy who pretended not to care about anything except himself.
Actually went out of his way to build this.
Him. Sitting down. Following instructions. Putting tiny pieces together. For you.
“You made this for me?” you asked, eyes wide, heart swelling so much it almost hurt.
“Well, no shit,” he replied, voice rough as ever, but the tips of his ears betrayed him, turning a faint pink. “Figured you’d like it. Since you’re always doing that nerdy shit.” His tone was gruff, but his eyes flicked to your face, clearly waiting—hoping—for your reaction.
You gently took the bouquet from his hands, careful like it was something fragile, something precious. You turned it slightly, admiring the details, the way the pink pieces fit together so perfectly.
“I love them,” you said softly, pouting just a little.
That was all it took.
Before he could even react, you stsepped forward and wrapped your arms around him in a tight bear hug, pressing your face into his chest.
“Ughhh, I love you so much!” you whined, your voice muffled against him as you peppered kisses wherever you could reach—his cheek, the corner of his mouth, his jaw, his nose, his forehead.
“S-stop—” he grumbled, but there was zero conviction behind it.
Finally, he sighed, giving in completely. His hands came up to cup your face, thumbs brushing your cheeks as he leaned down and kissed you properly—slow, warm, and unmistakably affectionate.
“Idiot,” he murmured against your lips afterward, but the way he rested his forehead against yours said everything.
divider by @firefly-graphics
it’s 5am and i should be sleeping, but i’ve been writing all day. somehow every idea has been painfully bad, so i’ve settled for this lazy little piece. lowkey shifting to sukuna because… yeah. i love him 🥹💗
papa!kuna vs his pregnant waddling wife
You’re still mad at him.
It’s been three hours since it happened, and the fury has yet to subside. If anything, the silence in your shared apartment is making it worse, fanning the flames of your irritation until you feel like a walking, talking inferno. A very pregnant, very uncomfortable inferno.
It started simply enough. You were heading to the kitchen for your fourth glass of water in the last hour – this baby was apparently determined to turn your bladder into its own personal water park. That’s when you caught it: a low chuckle from the living room sofa.
You paused, one hand on your burgeoning belly, the other on the small of your back, trying to alleviate the ever-present ache. “What’s so funny?”
Sukuna’s laughter wasn’t the full-throated, arrogant sound that usually echoed through your home. No, this was a suppressed, wheezing thing, the kind of laugh that happens when you’re trying desperately not to, which only makes it a hundred times worse. He was buried in his phone, but his shoulders were shaking.
“Nothing,” he managed to get out, his voice strained.
You narrowed your eyes. “It doesn’t sound like nothing. What are you laughing at?”
— Feeding Sukuna’s stomach mouth
You stared curiously at the peculiar muscle on your husband’s toned stomach, currently closed as he naps beneath you on his chaise lounge. One finger reaches forward, lightly tapping against the outline of the mouth before pulling back.
To your surprise, it opens, lips curling into a cocky grin before it starts… speaking?! Its voice is deep and matches Sukuna’s perfectly, large tongue flicking out.
“Curious, hm?” It drawls slowly, flashing the sharp canines that had been hidden just seconds ago. You lean over to the nearby table, pulling a strawberry from the box and holding it tentatively near the mouth.
“Do you eat food?” You asked, sounding a little stupid talking to your husband’s stomach.
It laughs lightly, lips spreading in amusement. “I do, woman. What do you have in mind? A finger? An arm?”
You grimace. “Ew. No, I have a strawberry.” You press the tip of the strawberry against the tongue, watching it pull the fruit from your grip and chew loudly, red juice staining the sharp teeth.
You watch mesmerised at the unusual body part, noting how expressive it was and how it still managed to work even when Sukuna himself was asleep.
“Do you want another?”
“Hm.” The mouth hums for a second before the tongue flicks out and presses down flat against your two fingers resting against his lower abdomen.
Hesitantly, you lift them, saliva coating your fingers as Sukuna’s mouth stomach sucks on them greedily as if trying taste their flavour. You’re sat in awe, entranced as lewd sucking sounds fills the room.
“Ngh-“ Ryomen grunts suddenly, arm lifting from over his eyes as they flicker open. Immediately, his mouth pulls away from your fingers, closing innocently and leaving you both dumbfounded and aroused.
“What are you doing, wife?”
“Nothing, Kuna,” you lie.
The Exception
Aaron Hotch x Reader
Summary: You’ve been a part of the team for nearly two years and neither you or Hotch have ever brought up the one night stand the two of you had prior to you coming to the BAU. When the team brings up your strict rule about not hooking up with guys before three dates, he can’t help but realize you've definitely broken that rule... Word Count: 3.6K 🍸
-
You’re half listening as Reid explains something complicated about geographic victimology while you work on finishing your report. The team got in late last night, which left everyone with a Friday full of paperwork and counting down the minutes until the weekend was officially here.
You’ve been a part of the team for nearly two years now, you finally feel totally confident of yourself within the team. It took some time being the youngest, you couldn’t even imagine how it was for Reid when he joined. Now you feel like you’re at the point of holding your own with some of the best minds in the FBI.
Hotch steps out of his office, his jacket is off and he has his sleeves rolled up at the forearms. He’s holding a file in front of him, his typical permanent frown weighing on his face. You keep typing, trying not to follow him in your peripheral.
• A lost puppy? No. A lethal predator in silk robes.
tom was never one to show when he liked someone, he liked to feel in control. you however, made it extremely difficult for him. everything you did bothered him. especially when you thought you could just talk and laugh with whoever you wanted to. he didn't understand why you needed someone else in your life, only you should be laughing and talking to him. the others didn’t deserve that. only he did.
its the main reason he hates when your out of his sight and reach for to long, he has no idea what your doing, or who your talking to, and that angers him. thinking about someone looking at you for to long sent a pit of fire in his stomach. so it wasn't his fault that he followed you around everywhere like a lost puppy. you made him like this. it was your fault, he thought.
"sit next to me." tom had pulled you over to the empty seat next to him before anyone else in the class had a chance to sit there. you went to say something, but you couldn't even get your words out before he started pleading with you in that silken, lethal tone of his for you to to just sit there with him.
"please, I don't really understand this lesson." he did tho, he was top of the class.
he wanted to make you feel like you had a choice to sit next to him or not. to make you feel like "its only logical" to sit next to your best friend and give him the help he so desperately needs.
it wasn't a choice tho, you never had a choice.
to you? you were helping your best friend.
to him? it was proximity control.