[okko-tsu]

⠀𝓦𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝓣𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐄, 𝐈 𝓢𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐎𝐍…!

꒰⠀ 𝓨𝐔𝐉𝐈’𝐒 𝓖𝐈𝐑𝐋 ⠀꒱⠀ Skye⠀|⠀ She/her ⠀|⠀18⠀|⠀ Choso ⠀&& ⠀Yuta enthusiast ⠀|⠀ Feel free to interact with me! ⠀𝜗ৎ ⠀This is a SFW blog! ⠀ ⠀#𝓜𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝓡ECENTLY ⠀ ꕀ ⠀Clingy!Yuji⠀ ⠀ FaceTime with Megumi

[crumplstiltskin]

he cant be normal and say his nephew is cute

[kashun]

━━━ SCARY DOG PRIVILEGE REVOKED.

𝓲𝗻 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗵 ♰ a feared, sleep-deprived sukuna shows up to the library just to take care of you, only to end up being the one who melts into your arms instead.

✿ ◞◟) ryomen sukuna 𝓍 gn!reader

𝓬𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 fluff, established relationship, college!au, sukuna is a menace (publicly) but a loser (privately), back hugs, acts of service, soft kisses, big scary man reduced to putty.

the library was supposed to be neutral ground.

that's what everyone agreed on, at least. the massive, radiant-lit study hall on the third floor of the student union existed in a strange little bubble of collective silence, where people from every corner of campus could huddle over their laptops without having to acknowledge each other.

it was functional — boring, even — it was the kind of place where the most exciting thing that could happen was someone accidentally crinkling a chip bag too loudly.

which is why, when ryomen sukuna walked through the doors, twenty pairs of eyes snapped up at once.

he didn't look at any of them, he didn't need to; his presence alone was enough to suck the air out of the room — all six foot something of him, broad shoulders straining against the worn black fabric of his hoodie, tattoos crawling up his neck and disappearing into his jawline like dark vines. his face was all sharp angles and quiet menace, the kind of face that belonged on a wanted poster or a magazine cover, depending on how brave you were feeling. most people weren't feeling brave.

sukuna was holding a pink hydro flask.

no one dared to comment on it, not when he was scanning the room with those heavy-lidded crimson eyes, jaw set in its usual resting position that hovered somewhere between bored and actively hostile. a girl in the corner actually pulled her knees up to her chest, like she was trying to make herself smaller, and a guy two tables over dropped his pen and decided, very wisely, to just leave it there.

then sukuna's entire face changed.

it wasn't really dramatic; sukuna’s expression didn't soften so much as it unclenched — the tension bleeding out of his brow, the hard line of his mouth twitching into something that wasn't quite a smile but was definitely adjacent to one. his shoulders dropped half an inch, and his eyes, still sharp but suddenly warm in a way that felt almost illegal to witness, landed on a table near the window; you.

you didn't look up right away.

you were absently chewing on the end of your highlighter, eyebrows pinched together as you stared down at what looked like a truly offensive amount of organic chemistry notes. your hair was piled into a messy bun that was already escaping in several directions, and you'd stolen one of sukuna’s hoodies once again — the gray one with the ripped cuff, which he'd specifically told you not to steal because it was his favorite, which meant you'd worn it approximately four times in the past week.

sukuna crossed the room in seven long strides, ignoring the way people practically threw themselves out of his path. by the time he reached your table, the hydro flask was already extended toward you, bumping gently against your elbow.

you finally looked up, and your whole face lit up like someone had flipped a switch.

"hi, baby," you said with the cutest smile.

your voice was so casual, so utterly unbothered, like you weren't currently being stared at by half the library, like the six-foot-four tattooed menace looming over you was just a random guy, just your guy.

"you forgot this," sukuna said.

and his voice — god, his voice. it was still that same low, gravelly rumble that made freshman cross the street to avoid walking past him, but there was something else underneath it now; something softer, almost shy, if shy was a word that could ever apply to ryomen sukuna. the boy set the pink hydro flask down next to your elbow, and his long fingers lingered for a second longer than necessary.

"you always forget it. your head's gonna dry up and fall off one of these days."

you laughed, and it was the kind of laugh that came from your chest, easy and warm.

"that's not how dehydration works."

"you don't know that. you're not a doctor."

sukuna was already pulling out the chair next to you, the metal legs scraping against the floor in a way that made several people wince; he didn't seem to notice, or care, sukuna dropped into the seat like he belonged there, which he did, because he'd been sitting in that exact chair every tuesday and thursday for the past four months, ever since you'd declared this your official study spot.

"i'm pre-med," you reminded him, twisting the cap off the hydro flask and taking a long sip.

water dripped down your chin, and you wiped it away with the back of your hand, completely unselfconscious. sukuna watched you do it with an intensity that should have been unsettling but somehow just looked like devotion.

"pre-med isn't med," he said, but his heart wasn't in it.

sukuna’s heart was somewhere in the vicinity of your pinky finger, which was suddenly very close to his hand on the table. he stared at it for a long moment, like he was trying to decide if touching it would make him seem desperate.

( he was desperate. he was always desperate. but he had a reputation to maintain, or whatever. )

"did you eat?" you asked with a little smile, capping the bottle and setting it aside.

your knee knocked against his under the table — deliberately, sukuna knew, because you always did that when you wanted his attention. like you didn't already have all of it, constantly, every single second of every single day.

"yeah."

"liar."

sukuna looked away.

"i had a protein bar."

"that's not food."

you were already digging through your backpack, and sukuna watched your hands move with that same quiet intensity, cataloging every small movement; the way your nails were painted a chipped, faded lavender, the way the sleeve of his hoodie kept slipping down over your fingers, the way you bit your lower lip when you were concentrating, just slightly, just enough to make something twist low in his stomach.

you emerged victorious with a granola bar, thrusting it toward him like a peace offering.

"eat."

"i'm not hungry."

"ryomen."

and that was it, that was all it took; just his name, falling out of your mouth in that particular tone — not angry, not nagging, just warm and expectant — and sukuna was reaching for the granola bar like his hands had stopped belonging to him. he tore the wrapper open with his teeth because he was still him, still a little feral around the edges, but he ate it.

every last bite, even though he'd genuinely not been hungry, because you'd asked him to.

you smiled at him, small and pleased, and then you turned back to your notes like that was just a normal interaction, like you hadn't just made the most feared man on campus eat his vegetables, metaphorically speaking.

sukuna watched you for another very, very long moment, and then he did something that made the girl at the next table literally drop her phone.

he rested his chin on your shoulder.

it was such a small thing, such an unconscious thing — the way sukuna leaned into your space, his chest pressing against your back, his nose brushing against the curve of your neck. his eyes fluttered half-closed, and he made a sound that was almost a sigh, something low and content that vibrated through both of you. sukuna’s arms came up to wrap around your waist, loose enough that you could still move, still highlight your notes, but present and anchoring.

"you're heavy," you said.

but you were already leaning back into him, your head tilting to give sukuna better access to your neck, and your hand came up to rest over his, your fingers slotting between his like they'd been made to fit there.

"mmh. you're warm," he mumbled against your skin, and his voice was so soft now, so private, like he'd forgotten there were other people in the room entirely.

sukuna’s thumb slowly traced absent patterns on your hip, over and over, a mindless rhythm that he probably didn't even realize he was doing.

a guy at the table across from them — some lanky kid with a beanie and an aura of misplaced confidence — whispered something to his friend, and sukuna's eyes snapped open; just for a second, just long enough to pin the guy in place with a look that said i heard that, and i will remember your face, and you should probably leave now.

the guy left, and his friend followed, looking vaguely nauseous.

you poked sukuna's hand.

"stop terrorizing the other students."

"he was staring."

"everyone's always staring. you're kind of noticeable."

sukuna made a noise that might have been a grunt of acknowledgment. his grip on your waist tightened slightly, and he pressed his face more firmly into the junction of your neck and shoulder, breathing you in. you smelled like vanilla and coffee and that specific laundry detergent you used, the one that made all your clothes smell like clean linen and something floral he couldn't name.

sukuna had started buying it for his own clothes too, which was embarrassing, but no one had to know that.

"you should study," you said, even as your free hand came up to card through his hair.

pink strands slipped through your fingers, surprisingly soft, and sukuna practically melted against you; his whole body went loose and pliant, the tension draining out of him like water from a cracked vase.

"didn't you say you had a paper due?"

"finished it."

"when?"

"this morning. at four."

you stopped moving your hand.

"sukuna."

"don't start."

"four in the morning?"

"couldn't sleep." he said it like it was nothing, like it wasn't a confession, but you knew him too well to let it slide.

you turned in sukuna’s arms, just enough to look at his face, and what you saw there made your chest ache; dark circles under his eyes, barely visible in the phosphorescent light but definitely there. a certain tightness around his mouth that he only got when he was running on empty.

"baby," you said softly, and his expression flickered, cracked, just a little. "why couldn't you sleep?"

sukuna looked away a second time, jaw working, and his hand naturally found yours under the table, fingers interlacing, squeezing once, hard.

"just didn't. it's fine."

"it's not fine. you need to take care of yourself."

"i take care of myself."

"baby, you eat protein bars for dinner and stay up until four in the morning writing papers you could have written during normal human hours."

you cupped sukuna’s face with your free hand, thumb brushing over his cheekbone, and he leaned into the touch like something starved finally finding warmth.

"that's not taking care of yourself. that's surviving."

sukuna didn't say anything for a long moment, he just looked at you, with those eyes that everyone else found so terrifying.

you'd never understood that.

his eyes were just eyes — intense, sure, and the color was unusual, but all you saw when you looked at him was the person who remembered to bring you water when you studied, the person who carried your groceries even when you insisted you could do it yourself, the person who'd stayed up with you until three in the morning last week, not because you'd asked him to, but because you'd had a terrible nightmare and he'd felt it through the wall between your apartments and had shown up at your door in his boxers with a glass of water and a quiet "you okay?"

"i'm not good at this," sukuna finally said, and his voice was rough, scraped raw around the edges. "the whole... being a person thing. i'm not good at it."

"you're good at it with me."

"yeah?

and there it was — that flicker of vulnerability, there and gone so fast you almost missed it. the reminder that beneath all the tattoos and the resting bitch face and the reputation that preceded him like a shadow, ryomen sukuna was just a guy; a guy who didn't know how to take care of himself but would burn the world down to take care of you, a guy who'd learned how to be soft not because you'd asked him to, but because you'd looked at him like he was already soft and he'd wanted so desperately to live up to that.

"yeah," you said, and you kissed the corner of his mouth, soft and brief. "now put your head down. i'm gonna finish this chapter, and you're gonna nap for twenty minutes."

"i don't nap."

"you do now."

sukuna stared at you for a beat, two beats, and then, with a sigh that was mostly for show, he folded his arms on the table and laid his head down, cheek resting on his forearm, and his other hand stayed wrapped around yours, thumb still tracing those absent patterns on your skin.

"twenty minutes," he mumbled, already sounding drowsy. "not a second more."

"whatever you say, baby."

sukuna's eyes drifted closed, and the last thing he saw before sleep pulled him under was you, bent over your notes, highlighter in hand, wearing his hoodie and looking like the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

across the library, someone's jaw was still on the floor.

the pink hydro flask sat between them like a promise, condensation beading on its surface, and sukuna — scary, shitty, tattooed sukuna — smiled in his sleep, just a little, because your thumb was tracing patterns back.

masterlist.

[rezijellyfish]

Family

[kissthesword]

Dadgumi is such a push over!

Back in his teenage years Megumi always assumed that children just weren’t for him. He didn’t want a sticky child constantly chasing after him and draining his bank account.

When he married you Megumi realised that maybe children weren’t so bad, I mean you’re perfect in his eyes, a miniature version could only be cuter.

While you were pregnant Megumi presumed that his least favourite part of parenting would be changing dirty diapers or cleaning up vomit.

What really ended up being his least favourite—and hardest?

Having to scold his baby girl.

“I know sweetheart, I know.” Megumi’s uncharacteristically soft voice traveled through the room, soft sniffles and protests following his words.

“Papa! Papa up!” The four year old wailed, small hands grabbing at the air above her in an attempt to grasp her dad’s attention. “You were naughty princess, mama said you have to stay in time out.

Megumi avoided his daughter’s eyes, arms folded at his chest in an effort to try and at least look serious about the punishment.

But she didn’t miss the way his face twitched at her cries, how his eyes softened, his frown faltering.

Her snivelling continued on, tiny feet stomping in frustration when Megumi only turned his face further. “Just 10 minutes okay princess? I’ll keep you in the naughty corner for 10 minutes then we can play.”

He stayed looming over her, hands now twitching as he tried to stop himself from just scooping his fussy daughter into his arms.

Megumi tried to persevere, he really really did, but four little words caused his demeanour to come crashing down.

“Papa no love me!”

Within seconds she was swooped off the floor and into his arms. He cooed softly, bouncing the young girl in his arms while whispering ‘papa loves you’ over and over until her wailing ceased.

“It’s okay sweetheart, look papa will get you some juice then we can play outside on the swings. How is that? Don’t cry sweet baby, papa loves you.” She nodded eagerly, a toothy smile spreading across her face. “Just—just don’t tell mama, okay?”

“Don’t tell me what?”

The two froze, neither turning to meet your gaze as you stood in the doorway. “Megs did you take her out of timeout again? She needs to learn.”

He turned to face you, a small pout evident on his lips. “Was telling her off not enough? She’s learnt her lesson, haven’t you baby?” You daughter held a similar expression, fiercely nodding along to her father’s words while her tiny fists curled into his shirt. “If you say so.”

Megumi stretched out one arm to you, a soft smile creeping its way onto his face as he quietly beckoned you over. You rolled your eyes, catching your daughter’s sly gaze as you sulked over to the two of them.

“You are a spoiled little girl.” You teased while pinching her chubby cheek. She squealed out and wriggled further into Megumi, “Papas fault.”

“Yes, it is papa’s fault.”

darlings note 💌: sorry for not posting as much I’m currently abroad rn!! Whipped up this little post while sunbathing sorry I’m a little rusty

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click to join taglist

[okko-tsu]

The call came late at night. Your phone vibrated against the nightstand, your boyfriend’s name lighting up the screen. You weren’t asleep, far from it, your mind too busy thinking about how torturous the next twenty-four hours would be without your boyfriend nearby because of yet another mission far away.

You answered before the second ring, your eyes widening when Megumi appeared on the screen. You hadn’t even noticed it was FaceTime—he had always seemed to hate it, so you were surprised to see his face.

He was resting his cheek against his own hand, his hair partially damp as if he had just stepped out of the shower, his shirt wrinkled and careless.

His expression was calm despite how visibly tired he looked, but his shoulders relaxed the moment you turned on the bedroom light and allowed him to see your face.

He didn’t greet you with anything elaborate, only letting out a quiet, “Hey,” the corners of his lips curling into an almost imperceptible smile.

“I’m surprised you’re still awake,” You propped the phone against your pillow, your fingers itching at the sight of your boyfriend yet being unable to touch him. “Did you eat?”

His eyes drifted away from the screen for a second, his hand running through his dark strands of hair. “…Yeah.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Megumi.”

He sighed, “I had something earlier,” which meant ‘no, not really’.

You clicked your tongue, grabbing the phone and lifting it properly as you started scolding him about how he shouldn’t skip meals, and he allowed you to without interrupting, his eyes watching you silently, his gaze lazily drifting across your expression.

There was something about watching you ramble that he had developed a strange fondness for—like your voice alone was enough to keep him grounded after a day filled with curses and chaos.

“Your shelf looks more crooked than before,” he commented, not caring about how offended you looked that he had ignored your lecture, even though he had listened to every word quietly.

“Gumi, did you at least hear a single sentence I said?” you sighed, wrapping yourself in the blanket you had stolen from his room before he left on his mission. “Anyway… Itadori tried fixing it using Nobara’s hammer… You can see the result.”

Your pupils dilated when you noticed the small, soft smile decorating his lips. “You smiled.”

“Didn’t,” Megumi denied, his smile growing instead of disappearing as usual.

The longer the call stretched on, the quieter it became. Not distant or boring, just relaxed. The same way the atmosphere felt when you were together. It wasn’t the same as holding his hand or cuddling him, but it was enough to bring at least a bit of comfort to both of you.

At some point, you noticed his eyelids drooping, blinking slower each time he tried to keep watching your face glowing on the screen. He didn’t hang up, even while half-asleep, no longer able to properly form responses to your conversation.

“Megumi,” you eventually murmured, laughing softly at how he seemed startled and opened his eyes.

“…Mm.”

“You’re falling asleep.”

“I’m not,” he blinked, but inevitably his eyes closed again. “I’m just resting my eyes, the brightness is annoying.”

As adorable as you found the sight—you had already taken several screenshots that would remain yours alone—you recognized that it was late, and he was exhausted.

“Go to bed,” you ordered.

Megumi rubbed his eyes, fighting against sleep, but eventually gave in. “…You hang up first,” he murmured.

You rolled your eyes, laughing quietly. “You’re impossible.”

“…Stay a little longer.” It came out barely above a whisper, so soft you almost missed it.

“Gumi, if you don’t rest properly, how are you going to wake up early?”

Megumi let out a low sound, almost a grumble, his eyes still closed as you spoke. For a second, you thought he had finally passed out, but then he shifted his head slowly, dark bangs falling slightly over his eyes. “…I’ll wake up…” he murmured, his voice rough and sluggish with exhaustion, as if every word demanded effort.

You sighed, but the sound came out more affectionate than irritated, your fingers adjusting the phone against the pillow so it wouldn’t fall. Your thumb brushed absentmindedly along the edge of the phone case, a nervous habit that appeared whenever you wanted to touch him but couldn’t.

“…I want to see you,” he murmured after a few seconds, rubbing his hands over his face in irritation at his own exhaustion.

“You are seeing me,” you replied, your voice softening without noticing, a small smile forming on your lips.

Megumi let out a quiet sigh as he stood up, the chair scraping against the floor while his hand grabbed the phone. He dropped onto the bed, burying his face into the pillow and letting the phone fall against the mattress.

With how quiet and relaxed he looked now, you thought he had finally been defeated by sleep. Your gaze drifted to the corner of the screen, where the small red button glowed, waiting to end the call.

“…Good night, Gumi,” you said softly, not expecting a response, it was more force of habit than anything.

Still, his lips moved slightly, as if he had tried to respond even while asleep, a sound barely audible slipping out. “…’night.”

Your smile slowly grew, you finally ended the call, pressing the phone against your chest for a second before letting it fall beside your pillow.

[lacquerheadd]

sukuna but he’s a jujutsu high teacher

[nessieartss]

will never get over him im afraid

[okko-tsu]

Yuji usually couldn’t stay still long enough for moments like this to happen.

You were sprawled comfortably against the couch cushions, one hand busy scrolling through your phone, the other gently running through his pink strands.

And Yuji had practically melted over you, part of his body draped over yours and the other half resting on the couch so he wouldn’t completely crush you.

He was always moving, talking, laughing, fighting—even when he was physically exhausted, he still couldn’t properly slow down. He just pushed forward with a smile and kept going until he hit his limit.

Which was exactly why this moment was so rare.

So precious.

Yuji had buried his face into your neck with a tired groan less than ten minutes ago, mumbling something about how that week’s routine had been getting a little too brutal. Now his entire weight rested on you, warmer than you would’ve liked, one of his arms lazily wrapped around your waist.

Your eyes had been following the slow rise and fall of his shoulders and the relaxed expression on his face for so long that you startled when your phone suddenly rang.

You answered automatically, before it could ring again and disturb your boyfriend’s nap.

You answered, lowering your voice instinctively, “Hello?”

The voice on the other end launched straight into conversation, fast and energetic, talking about meeting up later.

His eyes opened, pupils dilating slightly as he looked up at you curiously.

“…Yeah, I heard you,” you murmured into the phone.

You listened absentmindedly, opening your mouth and pausing before speaking, your eyes drifting down to Yuji again as he shifted slightly against you.

Your lips curled into a soft smile. “I can’t go,” you continued massaging Yuji’s head, answering before your friend could protest, “…I’m puppy sitting right now.”

You let out a quiet laugh when you saw him blink—then stretch slightly to nibble at your neck in retaliation.

“Hey—!” you whispered, still trying to keep your voice low because of the call.

On the other end of the line, your friend made a confused sound. “Wait— what was that?”

You had to hold back another laugh when Yuji rubbed his face against your neck. His nose pressed against your skin, warm, and you felt the soft puff of his breath as he settled himself again.

“Nothing,” you replied quickly, trying to keep your composure. “Just— uh— the puppy. I will call you back later, okay?”

“Puppy sitting?” he repeated after a few seconds. “…Should I bark too?”

“You were practically drooling on me,” you replied, shrugging with fake innocence. “Doesn’t that count as—“

“…Woof.”

You let out a muffled laugh, running your fingers through his pink strands again.

Yuji snuggled closer against you, his arm loosening slightly around your waist as he buried his face into your neck once more. His weight felt even heavier now—looser, more relaxed.

“…If I fall asleep here,” he murmured, his voice muffled against your skin, “will you keep petting me?”

You hummed softly, nodding.

The small satisfied sigh he let out was almost inaudible, but you caught it anyway, setting your phone aside and letting your free arm rest across his back.

art by kinzlev_ on x

[okko-tsu]

"I CAN FIX HER!" says man who is worse.

Nerd!Sukuna and his very spoiled girlfriend.

When Sukuna, after months of keeping the relationship a secret, was revealed to be dating you—of all people on campus—his friends briefly considered whether an emergency psychiatric intervention might be necessary.

While Satoru lamented that you were being “wasted” on a nerd, Toji and Choso seriously feared that Sukuna’s neurons had finally fried beyond recovery after consuming so many energy drinks.

It hadn’t even been him who revealed it. He had been avoiding that outcome like the devil avoids the cross, precisely because he knew the reaction would be nothing short of that. Sukuna had treated secrecy with the same precision he applied to his assignment deadlines—keeping distance in public, avoiding your group in the hallways, and making a point of constantly reinforcing to his friends that he had no interest in any kind of romantic attachment.

The problem was that you had absolutely zero concept of discretion, and talked far too much for someone trying to keep a secret.

Just another reason for his friends to question his current state of sanity, considering that one of the few things they believed they knew about him was that he liked things organized and controlled. Schedules. Privacy. Space. Silence.

You didn’t seem to share any of those preferences with him—you didn’t avoid conflict the way he did. Your perfume entered the room even when you were still halfway down the corridor. Your fingers were physically incapable of staying still, nails always tapping against wooden desks. You talked too fast, moved too much, reacted too loudly.

And still, even though the equation didn’t make sense, even against every probability and expectation, you were dating him.

…

Ryomen dragged his finger lazily across his phone screen, opening and closing his notes app as he pretended to be distracted—occasionally glancing toward the two students sitting a couple tables away, just to check whether they had stopped staring at him like he had personally spat on their ancestors’ graves.

Oh, of course.

He was dating you.

They were probably just two more idiots convinced he had ruined the imaginary chances they believed they once had with you. He considered it for a few seconds, lips curling into a faint smirk as he debated whether flipping them off would be worth the effort.

Sukuna exhaled quietly through his nose and lifted his cup, taking a slow sip while allowing his shoulders to relax, even though the bitter taste made his sugar-addicted, energy-drink-dependent body recoil slightly.

You were late.

Not late enough to make him worry—he had learned early on that you operated on a timeline completely separate from the rest of humanity—but late enough to irritate him.

Then the bell above the café door chimed.

Your perfume reached him before your voice did. He didn’t even need to look up to know it was you dragging the chair beside him and dropping into the seat.

“Kuna, this day is cursed,” you announced, not even pausing to breathe. “First, the vending machine ate my coins—again! And then Shoko texted me saying the professor extended the deadline, but only for half the class! Which makes absolutely no sense, like, he should at least be fair—”

Your fingers drifted toward the chain around his neck, your fingertips playing with the metal as you kept rambling. He didn’t make any effort to stop you, his eyes lowering slightly as he watched your lips move.

“And the stupid pet shop—don’t even get me started! I asked, politely I might add, for them not to put any of those accessories on our baby, because they hate them, but did they listen? No. They put the ugliest little tie and those ridiculous little gems on Uraume. They looked miserable, Kuna, absolutely miserable, the poor thing—”

“It’s a cat,” Sukuna interrupted, raising one brow. “Does it really care?”

You opened your mouth, visibly offended by his complete lack of empathy toward the traumatic experience your cat had endured. But instead of continuing the argument, you simply grabbed the cup from his hand.

You coughed on the first sip, eyes widening as you stared down at the drink—which, besides being cold, tasted like cheap lip gloss. “…Did you order this without sugar?”

“No,” he answered, resting his chin against his hand.

“Unbelievable,” you muttered, already standing and turning toward the counter. “Do they have a personal vendetta against you or something? They always mess up your order—”

“It’s fine,” Sukuna said, grabbing your wrist before you could fully walk away—after all, he couldn’t exactly explain that he had once gotten into a fistfight with that same barista at one of the university parties. “Sit down.”

You crossed your arms, glaring at him. “It’s not fine when something has happened thirteen times.”

“Stop being dramatic—”

He watched you ignore him completely and continue toward the counter. Sukuna didn’t understand your logic—you never argued when your own order came wrong. Never complained when your drink was cold or your dessert slightly burnt. You would take it with a shrug and move on without a second thought.

Ryomen dragged a hand down his face, feeling ridiculous.

“Here,” you said a moment later, placing a cup in front of him along with a slice of chocolate cake that looked dangerously tempting. “See? Fixed.”

“And the cake?” he asked, taking a sip of the coffee. Sweet. Exactly how he liked it.

“Because you skipped lunch to go print your papers,” you replied matter-of-factly.

art by aliyartss (ig & x)

[okko-tsu]

grrrr 🐯

raarr 🦁

[kkunai]

“c’mon, megumi. tell me what’s botherin’ ya.” satoru pouts at megumi, his arm thrown around the boy’s shoulders. you watch the scene unfold with a tense smile.

megumi’s exhausted from school, training and so much more. the teenager’s patience is wearing thin. especially with satoru pressuring him into telling you what’s weighing on his mind. all he wants is to be left alone.

the tone satoru’s using to talk to megumi only pisses him off more and more. it’s too fatherly. like he’s still the little child you took in and cared for. it pisses megumi off, along with everything else, so before he can stop himself—

“you’re not my dad, so stop fucking acting like you are!”

you freeze. satoru freezes. megumi freezes. time freezes.

the silence is deafening. no one moves. your eyes flicker over to satoru’s and your heart shatters in a million pieces.

satoru’s hurt. so hurt. it’s visible and he’s not hiding it—not hiding it like he usually would behind a wide grin. his blindfold and glasses aren’t there to hide the way his face falls either.

“. . . i know,” satoru whispers. his voice lost its cheery tone and his eyes lost their spark. the sorcerer slowly distances himself from megumi. a bitter chuckle leaves his lips. a futile attempt to hide his shaky voice, “i know.”

all you could do is stand there in shock. megumi doesn’t know what to do after his little outburst either. and satoru. . . well, satoru is the first one out of the room. you hear his breath hitch as he walks past you. you see his eyes twitch.

the strongest, in tears.

ac. hanaasartistry on x

[okko-tsu]

𝜗ৎ ⠀Yuji didn’t expect married life to make Choso softer… but he liked seeing him this happy.

Choso stood near the table, sleeves rolled up, lining up the plates as if asymmetry were a crime. He did it calmly, the way he’d been doing most things ever since the two of you got married.

You hummed beside him, handing him the utensils one by one, your fingers brushing occasionally. Every now and then, your fingers brushed his as you passed another fork or spoon.

Every accidental touch still made his heart race.

His gaze drifted to you again—and he didn't even bother to invent excuses to himself to deny he was admiring you.

“You don’t have to be so precise.” you teased gently, leaning slightly against the table as you handed him the last spoon.

“I do.” he replied as he set down the last plate.

You leaned in slightly, peeking at his work like you were judging it. “…It does look nice.”

His lips curved into a proud smile.

Your hands cupped his face, fingers sinking into his soft cheeks. “You’re way too cute,” you murmured.

He blinked. “…Me?”

Before he could fully process the comment, you wrapped your arms around him, your cheek pressed to his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. Choso hesitated, then slowly wrapped his arms around you, his chin resting on the top of your head.

“You’re very… affectionate today.” he said softly. Normally, he was the clingy one.

“I always am.”

“Yes,” he agreed, “but today you’re more.”

You laughed against him, squeezing him a little tighter for a second. He smiled softly, the tips of his ears turning a faint pink.

The doorbell rang.

Choso stiffened, glancing down, but his shoulders soon relaxed. “Must be Yuji.” You could see it in his eyes—he was eager to see his brother, but didn’t want to break the physical contact himself.

You pulled away, pressing one last quick kiss to his lips. “I’ll answer it.”

The moment you opened the door, Itadori burst in like a whirlwind, voice loud as he kicked off his shoes. “Choso! I brought—” He stopped mid-sentence, noticing the lingering redness on his brother’s face. “…Oh. Uh. Sorry. Bad timing? Did I interrupt something?”

“No,” you said quickly, laughing softly. “Come on in.”

Yuji shuffled inside, still glancing between the two of you with poorly-hidden curiosity.

The two of them talked for minutes on end while Choso finished setting the table, but it wasn’t until they sat down and started eating that Yuji squinted, studying his older brother.

Choso tilted his head. “What?”

Yuji leaned back, his gaze roaming over Choso in a way that made him unconsciously straighten his posture. “…You got bigger.” Yuji said, hand on his chin.

Choso’s eyebrows lifted. “Bigger how?”

“Hm…” Itadori nodded, his expression serious. “Like—softer bigger. I mean… stronger too! You know?” He added, “Are you eating better?”

Choso was still a little unsure whether that was meant as a good thing or not, but he answered anyway. “I eat… regularly?”

Yuji grinned. “Married life, huh?”

Your husband looked at his brother. “Is that a bad thing?”

“No!” Yuji replied immediately. “It’s good! You look healthy. And happy.” He paused. “Looks like you’re being well taken care of.”

Before Choso could answer, you returned with the drinks, setting the glasses down one by one before slipping behind him and wrapping your arms around his shoulders

You nibbled at his cheek. “He is being well taken care of—that’s the proof.” Your finger poked his cheek again.

“…Please don’t.” he murmured, but he didn’t pull away.

You laughed softly and released your husband, pulling out your chair to sit beside him. He still gets shy in front of his little brother.

Yuji watched the two of you for a moment, his expression slowly softening into something warm—something a little emotional, though he hid it behind a grin.

“Guess you really settled in, big bro.”

Choso glanced down at you, then back at Yuji. “I guess I did.” He smiled softly.

Yuji rested his elbow on the table, chin in his palm, watching him with a fond, almost nostalgic look. “…I’m happy for you, y’know.”

Choso froze, his mouth parting as he searched for words in his mind. It was such a simple sentence, yet he could now hear his own heart pounding loudly in his chest.

His fingers tightened slightly around his chopsticks, knuckles paling just a little. “…Yuji.”

While he was still coming back from his daze, Itadori already had his mouth full again, chewing. “What?”

“…You’re happy for me?” Choso blinked, his vision growing blurry. He swallowed dryly, even as his throat tightened.

Yuji frowned slightly, confused by the reaction. “Yeah?” he said simply. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Silence lingered for a moment.

Your husband’s teeth sank into his lower lip in a failed attempt to hide how badly he was trembling.

“…Yuji.” His voice wavered just enough to betray him—but it wasn’t as if it was hard to notice how emotional he had become.

Yuji’s expression softened immediately. He looked at you for help, but when you simply smiled and tilted your head to the side, he turned his attention back to his brother.

“…Hey,” he said gently. “Don’t cry at the dinner table.”

“I’m not,” Choso insisted weakly, sniffling and rubbing at his eye to hide the single tear that had slipped free. “I’m not.”

You reached for his hand under the table, squeezing it gently.

Choso inhaled shakily, his shoulders rising slightly before settling again. His thumb unconsciously rubbed against your fingers.

Yuji smiled, shaking his head slightly. “…Man, you really look happy,” he said again, softer this time.

“…I am.” he whispered.

rewriting this one bc I miss him </3

[ryoride]

ꮼ unsurprisingly, itadori is one romantic boyfriend

ᦸ fluffy little boyfriend!itadori hcs ⸝⸝ art : hinamie

boyfriend!itadori is a very affectionate man; he likes to hold hands, hug, share chaste kisses, cuddle & hold one or both of your thighs over his while sitting together—the pure intimacy of the touches feels so right.

boyfriend!itadori lets his girlfriend toy with his muscles whenever she wants, rubbing & over his back muscles and tracing shapes on his abs—his favorite, though, is when you want to mess with his biceps, whether you're nipping on them, kissing them, or napping on them.

boyfriend!itadori gets so happy whenever you wear something of his; it could be his sweats, PJs, a hoodie, a stolen shirt, literally anything, and he just finds it so adorable seeing the fabric swallow you up.

boyfriend!itadori is very eager to be a canvas for you, lying flat on his stomach to let you sketch out whatever your heart desires on his flesh. He's always quick to take photos to immortalize your work & show his friends what it looked like before fading.

boyfriend!itadori adores late nights when you're staying up just to talk each other's ears off—he could be gaming, cleaning, working out, or lying next to you, & no matter what, he's happily sitting there as you yap.

boyfriend!itadori has kept one flower from each bouquet he's given you, pressing each of them & slowly framing them together so you can keep a roadmap of your relationship; each frame holds a special time period for both of you.

boyfriend!itadori loves being your boyfriend; it awakened something in him that he never wants to sleep again.

[reignpage]

Men's Rantings and

Friendly Advice

SMAU: in which the men talk to their friends after an argument with you Warnings: a little angst but mostly fluff/crack, a little suggestive language, established relationship, intended to see how they talk about you to others, not proofread Featuring: Gojo, Geto, Choso, Toji, Nanami, Sukuna

[okko-tsu]

Megumi tightened his arms around your waist, his face still buried in the curve of your neck, his lashes tickling your skin every time he opened his eyes only to close them again.

The two of you had been quiet ever since he arrived in your room. You hadn’t questioned him when he simply walked in and hugged you, pulling you down to the floor and settling you into his lap.

It wasn’t something common for him, even though you were dating—but you figured he was exhausted, or in need of comfort after returning from the mission he had completed earlier.

You thought he might fall asleep like that, your hand lifting to gently run through his hair.

“Tired?” you asked softly, your fingers moving carefully through his soft strands.

He nodded, taking a deep breath. “…You smell different.” Megumi’s voice came out muffled, almost inaudible.

“Yeah… I bought a new perfume,” you replied. “Do you like it?”

His nose brushed lightly against your skin—as if he wanted to take in more of it, but was trying to find a way to do so without being obvious.

“…It’s nice,” he murmured, his hands tightening slightly around your waist before he finally tilted his head back, his eyes meeting yours. “You didn’t ask.”

“Hm?”

“Why I came like this.”

“I figured you’d tell me when you wanted to.”

Megumi opened his mouth, then closed it again, taking a few seconds to decide whether to stay quiet or not. “…It was annoying,” he admitted. “The mission.”

Your hands moved to his cheeks, your thumbs gently brushing over his soft skin. “You did good, though, didn’t you?”

A quiet scoff, almost breathless. “…Obviously.”

You let out a soft laugh, your eyes shining with adoration. Your chest felt warm, happy that he was finally opening up, even if only little by little.

“…I don’t feel like going back yet.”

“You don’t have to.”

His hand shifted again, this time rising to cover yours, gently removing them from his face and bringing one up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to it.

Your lips parted slightly in brief surprise, a faint warmth rising to your cheeks.

Now it was your turn to hide your face in the curve of his neck, your lips curling into a smile that mirrored the one resting on your boyfriend’s.

[aspinny]

HOW TO LOSE A GUY IN 10 DAYS - but the guy is ryomen sukuna

ryomen sukuna x female!reader ; spoilers if you haven’t seen the movie!! ; tried not to use any (y/n) thingy ; might have grammar mistakes oops ; you’re basically andie anderson

Being a magazine writer needs a lot of creativity, and most of all, it needs inspiration.

You were the "How to" Girl. How to do this how to do that, but not everything you wrote really represented what you truly wanted to bring out there to the world.

"And only then will the people of Tajikistan know true and lasting peace."

Shoko leans over the back of your chair, her chin nearly on your shoulder as she scans the paragraph. “Wow,” she says softly. “That’s actually really moving.”

She sighs. “You do know that’s never going to run in Composure, right?”

You drop back into your chair. “Yeah. I figured that part out around ‘post-conflict economic instability.' I didn't think busting my ass in grad school would only make me the "How-to" girl."

"I wanna write about things that actually matter Sho."

Shoko only looks at you and softly smiles, "maybe if you keep busting your ass you might get there sunshine" she then turns around to sit on her own desk while her smile turns cheeky.

“But,” she says slowly, pushing off your desk and walking back to hers, “I might have something that could improve your mood immediately.” She reaches down to grab something, "You know that editor from Sports Illustrated that you have been shamelessly flirting with on the phone for, I don't know, a month, now? He made a little delivery this morning."

“I have not been shameless.”

“You absolutely have.” She straightens up, holding a sleek envelope between two fingers. “He dropped this off this morning.”

You’re on your feet before she finishes the sentence. “Give it.”

She dangles it just out of reach for a second before handing it over. You carefully open it, trying not to look too eager, and immediately fail.

"Tomorrow night..."

She looks at you with her brow raised, "What happens tomorrow night?"

"The NBA finals are in town, and I got tickets!" You smile, "and you are coming with me."

She shrugs, "All right, i'll go watch sweaty men follow around a bouncy ball for two hours, why not."

Before you can respond, a coworker pops her head into your doorway. “Ladies! Meeting in thirty minutes. Don’t disappear.”

You and Shoko exchange a look. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” you call sweetly.

The second she leaves, you glance around the office. “Wait. Have you seen Utahime?”

Shoko only looks at you with a face "She's probably wallowing."

You sigh as you get your bag and coat and prepare to leave, "I'll go get her, it's my turn anyway."

"I'll get the coffee"

By the time you make it up the narrow stairwell to Utahime’s apartment, you already know what you’re walking into. Curtains probably half-drawn. Lights off. She for sure hasn’t brushed her hair yet. Maybe hasn’t even moved from the bed at all.

"Morning, sunshine!" You greet her as she stares at you through her teary eyes. "Come on, get up. I'm not gonna let you lose your job over everything else."

She just stares at you, unimpressed and tired, and moves to lay down on her bed. “I’m going back to bed,” she mutters, collapsing face-first onto the mattress. “I have no reason to live.”

You sit down on the edge of the bed, raising a brow. “Hime. You dated him for a week.”

She makes a wounded sound and rolls toward you, burying her face into your shoulder. "It was the best week of my life." You soften, wrapping your arms around her for a hug.

A few moments pass before you speak again, "I’m opening the curtains.”

She groans as sunlight floods the room, dramatically shielding her eyes like a vampire. “You're cruel,” she mutters.

“Mhm, and unfortunately for you, you’re also employed.”

Ryomen Sukuna had the kind of life people assumed came easy. He had the face for magazine covers, the job title that impressed at dinner parties, and just enough friends to keep things interesting without ever feeling crowded. Stable job, steady pay, freedom to do what he wanted.

He pushes through the glass doors of the agency, helmet tucked under his arm, already mentally drafting taglines for DeLauer Diamonds. If he lands this account, it’s not just another client, it’s the client. DeLauer owns half the diamond market. Whoever handles their campaign might as well stamp their name across the entire industry.

“Morning, kitty-cat,” Gojo sings, far too cheerful for 8 a.m. “We’ve got news.”

He sets his motorcycle helmet on his desk and starts sorting through mockups. “Can’t. I need to get ahead on DeLauer. If we win them over, we’re not just another agency anymore.” He glances at them briefly. “We’re the agency.”

Gojo and Toji exchange a look as they follow right behind him.

“Yeah,” Gojo says carefully, rocking back on his heels. “About that.”

Sukuna’s eyes narrow. “What.”

Toji drops onto the small couch by the window. “Yeah boss gave the account to the Judys.” Silence.

Sukuna stares at him. “You’ve got to be joking.”

“Nope.” Gojo shrugs. “Happened late yesterday. Whole thing’s theirs.”

Sukuna’s jaw tightens. “I’ll talk to him.”

“Can’t,” Toji says as he sits down on the small couch.

“And why the hell not?”

“He’s in Chicago for a meeting, but-” Toji pauses, smirking faintly, “he’ll be at Mullen’s tonight. With them goin’ over the campaign direction.”

Gojo only hums, "Do what you will with that information."

Sukuna only takes a deep breath and makes up his mind in a second, “You know what?” he says, grabbing his jacket again. “I will do something with that.”

The way to the meeting room was pretty uneventful to say the least.

“Alright family! Shos off!” Your boss starts, “Okay, Lori, let's start off with you.”

Lori smiles and starts, “Well, the BOTOX for Beginners piece is done.. Now, it's a little scary, but mostly upbeat.”

Everyone only looks at each other once and hide a small smile.

“Now I'm on What Your Gyno Won't Tell You, which is also pretty scary, but, you know, upbeat.”

Your boss only looks at her and finally lets out a small smile break out, “Upbeat. Marvelous. Well, what's next for How-To With you?” she says as she looks at you.

“Well,” you begin, “I thought of trying something more different this time”

She only stares at you, “Okay… what.”

You sigh and continue, “Well its more of a political thing and-“

you’re cut off.

“No no… sweetheart you work at Composure magazine,” she starts, and looks at you with a look, “We don’t do politics, we do fashion, trends, diets, gossip and so on.”

“But-“

“Look.” She cuts you off, again. “How about this”

You sigh and look at her, letting her know you’re willing to listen.

“If you can make your next work a must-read, ill let you write whatever you want.”

You look away and swallow, and let out a small ‘understood’ and dropped it. Trying to win against her will only make things harder so maybe just letting her get her way might be better.

The conversation shifts to her asking Utahime about her, to which she answers that she didn’t feel well enough to work on anything.

You knew your boss was somewhat of a bitch, but to hear the words come out of her mouth just makes you hate her even more.

“Write about it.” she said to Utahime.

“I can’t write about my personal life..”

“Oh youre right. So who will use her personal life for a story?”

Lori raises her hand in a split second, and you can see Utahime furrow her brows in an uncomfortable way.

“No, no, no” Utahime starts, “Lana, with all due respect, Lori has no business mucking around in my personal life, and I can't let her.”

“I’ll do it.”

“What?” Shoko looks at you after you said that.

Your boss raises an eyebrow at you, and you take this as a sign to explain.

“Okay so uh-“, you begin, “I was thinking that I could start by dating a guy and then drive him away, but only using the classic mistakes most women, make all the time.”

Your boss looks pleased, and her eyes shine in mischief, “Go on…”

“I'll keep a diary of it and it will be sort of a dating how-to in reverse.”

She only looks down for a second like shes thinking, “How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days.” She says. “Okay, go.”

You smile but it quickly vanishes as you now realize the deadline for it, “Wait- why ten?”

“Five days is too short, and we go to press in 11. Yes?”

You sigh and then only nod.

Now, the only thing left to do, was to find the guy you’ll have to lose in 10 days.

a/n : if this does well im making part 2 but ive been so fucking obsessed with this movie and i dreamed of this fic the same night i watched it

love u guys