𐔌՞ ܸ.ˬ.ܸ՞𐦯 Sukuna Ryomen ⸝⸝.ᐟ⋆ secretly being a big baby in bed .✦ ݁˖
The King of Curses, the Disgraced One, a calamity fleshed in four arms and two faces, was currently occupying three-quarters of the mattress and radiating the ambient heat of a small furnace.
To the jujutsu world, Sukuna Ryomen was a nightmare incarnate.
To you, at three o'clock in the morning, he was essentially a giant, oversized, demanding toddler.
You shifted slightly, trying to pull a sliver of the duvet back over your freezing shoulder. The moment the fabric moved, a low, menacing rumble vibrated through Ryomen's chest.
It wasn't a threat; it was a complaint.
Before you could even blink, a massive, tattooed arm lashed out, hooking around your waist and dragging you flush against his chest. His primary set of eyes didn't even open, but his grip was vice-like.
“Stop moving,” he muttered, his voice thick with sleep and rougher than sandpaper.
“Ryomen, you have the entire blanket,” you whispered, trying to pry his heavy forearm off your stomach. “And you’re suffocating me.”
Instead of letting go, the ancient sorcerer buried his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply. His second set of eyes, nestled just below his cheekbones, fluttered open briefly, blinking sleepily up at you with none of their usual malicious glint.
They just looked heavy and irritated that his warmth had been disturbed.
“Mine...” he grumbled against your skin, the hot puff of his breath sending a shiver down your spine.
“I'm not going anywhere, Ryomen,” you sighed, running a hand through his messy, down-turned pink hair. It was surprisingly soft when it wasn't spiked up with cursed energy and blood. “But I am freezing.”
Ryomen huffed, a dramatic, long-suffering sound. With a sharp flick of his lower left hand, he yanked the tangled duvet completely off the edge of the bed and threw it over both of you, burying you both in a chaotic mountain of fabric. He then repositioned his upper arms, wrapping you in a full-body lock that effectively pinned you to his chest. His chin rested heavily on top of your head.
“Better?” he demanded, though it sounded more like a sleepy pout.
You couldn't help but chuckle, your heart softening at the sheer absurdity of the situation. If Gojo or any of the sorcerers could see the ruthless King of Curses acting like a clingy koala bear, they’d probably drop dead of sheer shock.
“Yes, Ryomen. It's much better. Thank you.”
He let out a satisfied grunt, his grip relaxing just a fraction so you could actually breathe. His fingers idly twitched against your waist, tracing absentminded circles over your hip in a rare, domestic rhythm.
“Sleep now,” he commanded softly, his breathing already slowing down as he drifted back into the shadows of unconsciousness.
You smiled into the dark, wrapping your arms as far around his massive torso as they could go, completely content to be held captive by the sweetest calamity in history.
Megumi mumbles into his collar to try and hide the fact that he’s blushing. His ears were a tint of pink, his emerald eyes avoiding your gaze as you straddle on his lap, getting comfy.
“Why?” you ask smugly, adjusting yourself slightly which caused you to tug on his hair slightly. You giggle as you cup his pouty face with your hands.
“I-I said stop..” he mumbles but he makes no attempt in pushing you away or stopping you at all.
“I just can’t help myself! You’re just so cute” you exclaim, kissing hiss cheek. He freezes. Did you just call him cute?
He avoids eye contact, his face flushing. “Cute?”
“Mhm.”
Megumi thought he was many things — cold, quiet, stoic. But cute?
“Don’t call me that.” He huffs, face reddening as his hands rest on your hips, fiddling with the hem of your skirt. You let out a soft giggle and kiss his face, all over.
megumi always complains when you leave lip gloss on his lips or cheeks after kissing him. and although he secretly loves the taste, he isn’t such a fan of the sticky sheen your lips leave behind—he’s so grumpy about it, worried that people will see the remnants of your favourite lip gloss on his lips and assume he’s the one putting it on !
but when you listen to his grumbles and stop wearing your favourite gloss just so that you can kiss him, megumi just assumes you’ve run out. he rejoices for a while, smiles against your kisses when he doesn’t feel that gloss on your lips.
after a while, though, he learns that he misses licking his lips after and still tasting you. he learns that the feeling of your gloss staining his cheeks reminds him of you and all your incessant loving. he learns that he likes it, the little parts of you that he gets to take with him wherever he goes.
and so, not even a week after you stop wearing lip gloss, you walk into your room to find a bag of twenty different tubes sitting on your bed.
⋆˚꩜｡ bf!megumi who doesn’t ask to hang out but subtly hints that he’s free in the hope you will ask instead then will ‘begrudgingly’ accept the invitation.
⋆˚꩜｡ bf!megumi bought your signature perfume ‘so you could use it when you stay the night’ but he mainly bought it just to spray it in his room so it smells like you.
⋆˚꩜｡ bf!megumi sends you gifts from your amazon wish list randomly and acts nonchalant about it but loves the excited texts e gets from you when you’ve received them.
⋆˚꩜｡ bf!megumi pretends to dislike when you pamper him but he has to hold back a smile as you’re deeply focused on panting his nails.
⋆˚꩜｡ bf!megumi never even listens to his own music anymore - he just listens to your playlists on repeat and saves it so he can also play it when you’re at his place or when you’re sharing his AirPods.
⋆˚꩜｡ bf!megumi never engaged in social media before you got together but now you’ve persuaded him to start so now every time you go on a date he takes pictures of everything and shows it to you before he posts so he can get your approval since he seems to think you’re a master of aesthetics.
⋆˚꩜｡ bf!megumi ordered a vanity for his room and bought all the makeup and skincare products you use so you can use them when you stay round and cleared out a shelf in his wardrobe to keep some of your clothes there ‘so you wont need to stress about bringing an overnight bag’.
⋆˚꩜｡ bf!megumi binge watches the shows you mention you’ve watched so you can both talk about them and send each other edits.
this is so dookie but ive never made something like this so forgive me pls.
suprisingly, Megumi is really awkward in the beginning of a relationship
he's an overthinker... mostly, because he didn't have much experience
it may be hard for him to understand your feelings and find an approach
it's also hard for him to show his own feelings or talk about them
it might be hard for him to say 'i love you' and he has goosebumps every time you say it
he might not answer it or just say 'me too' but it means much more to him that he actually shows
Megumi probably finds it difficult to start serious conversations, especially if they're about his past and sister
if you want him to understand what you're feeling, you need to talk to him directly
i think he doesn't get hints and can't guess a reason why you're upset
but Fushiguro is really careful with words and actions towards you
he cares about your feelings and doesn't want to hurt you
he really really cares about you but he might not act like it
he's really attentive to important dates, like birthdays and anniversaries, and makes sure you spend a lot of quality time together and you get enough of his attention
he will take all your problems seriously and genuinely comfort you whenever you need him to
Megumi loves it when you praise him, compliment him and when all of your attention is on him
he likes to act cool and show off to you but will rather die that admit it
he loves when he's the one who protects you and helps you
he says he's not a jealous type but he is
doesn't like when you talk to Yuji, pay him more attention or laugh at his jokes
he'll try to make a joke on purpose to make you laugh but it'll be really awkward and not funny
but you still laughed at the situation so, i guess, that's quite enough for him
Fushiguro keeps little things that remind him of you
your little notes, handmade cards, keychains, your photos together and will NEVER show it to anyone
he is really clingy but won't admit it as well
but you know it anyway 'cause he melts under your hugs
he's really gentle kisser, he's careful and slow but it only shows that he trusts you a lot
Megumi only lets you touch his hands, hair, face but he acts like it's not a big deal
he's really gentle with you in general. he never raises his voice at you
moreover, his voice softens when he talks to you
he may sound irritated when he talks to his friends or even Gojo
but when it comes to you he's never irritated, even during conflicts
Megumi takes your relationship seriously
he doesn't see his future without you
and he will never fully show how he is actually scared to lose you
so, he promised himself to protect you at all cost
it's my first time writing for jjk. let me know if you liked it or not and if i should also start writing jjk headcanons! thanks for reading
"it's feminine intuition, 'cause I always had a vision of us standing like this"
💌: ao haru ride inspired, fluff, childhood friends, yearner megumi. wc: 2.2k. art credit: semapathy ⚠︎gifs are not mine, credits to rightful owner.
time moves like a tide, drifting forward even when you wish it would pause, carrying people apart only to pull them back together with a feeling that settles deeper each time. distance stretches the heart in ways you don’t notice at first, but megumi feels it every day, like each memory of you grows fonder the longer you’re away.
he thinks about how strange it is that time can take someone out of your reach but still keep them close in your mind. he never says any of this out loud.
you and megumi grew up together, sharing schoolyards, after‑school snacks, and long walks home where he always slowed his pace to match yours. he was the kid who stood beside you when you were nervous, the one who held your sleeve when you crossed the road.
you spent whole afternoons trading secrets under the same tree, promising you’d stay friends even when life got busy. he remembers every detail, every laugh, every moment where he wished he could tell you how much you meant to him.
now, years later, he’s alone in his apartment, thinking about you again like he always does when the day winds down. he crouches beside the couch and calls out your name, his voice gentle and familiar, but he isn’t talking to you. instead, a tiny black cat trots over, tail flicking as she jumps into his arms, clearly used to being spoiled.
he scratches behind her ear and murmurs, “come here, y/n, dinner’s ready,” acting like it’s normal even though he knows exactly why he chose that name.
he sits back against the couch with the cat curled against him, staring at the empty space across the room where he imagines you would sit if you were here. he whispers, “you’d laugh at me if you saw this,” but there’s a small smile on his face as he says it.
naming the cat after you was something he did without thinking, something that made the distance feel a little less severe.
he holds her close and adds, “you remind me of her, you know,” even though he knows the truth, he just misses you.
megumi sits on the couch with the cat curled against his chest. he pauses on a photo he took earlier, the cat sitting on the windowsill with the afternoon light behind her, looking far too pleased with herself.
he taps it, adds it to his instagram story, and types out the caption with your name, the same name he calls out every evening when he feeds her. the moment he posts it, he stares at the screen for a long time, wondering if you’ll see it and think of him the way he thinks of you.
the story sits there with a tiny heart sticker in the corner, the cat’s name written clearly like it’s something he wants the whole world to know.
he leans back and lets out a slow breath, feeling that familiar ache settle in his chest, the one that always shows up when he thinks about how long it’s been since he last saw you. “you’d tease me for this,” he mutters to the cat, who blinks at him like she agrees. he reaches out and strokes her head, adding quietly, “i just miss her, that’s all.”
── ⟢ ・⸝⸝
you haven’t checked megumi’s instagram in ages, mostly because you told yourself it didn’t matter anymore, that childhood memories were just that -- memories. but tonight, for some reason you can’t explain, you open the app and type his name into the search.
his profile loads slowly, and you scroll through the grid with a strange mix of curiosity.
the moment it opens, your breath catches because the first thing you see is a tiny cat sitting on a windowsill, looking far too proud of herself. the caption sits right under it, written in his usual neat style, and it’s your name, sitting there like it belongs to the cat. you stare at it for a long moment, your thumb frozen on the screen as your heart skips a beat.
you whisper, “no way… megumi, what are you doing?” even though he’s nowhere near you.
you exit the story so fast you almost drop your phone, but the damage is done, your name is in his story views. you sit there on your bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to figure out why he would name a cat after you of all things.
part of you wants to laugh, part of you wants to scream, and part of you feels something warm settle in your chest, something you haven’t felt since you were kids. you whisper to yourself, “he can’t be serious,” but the truth is, you know exactly what megumi is like -- he never does anything without meaning it.
our heart is still racing when you open the message box under his story, your thumb hovering for a moment before you slide up and type a single confused “?”. it feels ridiculous, but it’s the only thing your brain can manage after seeing your own name sitting under a photo of his cat. you hit send before you can overthink it, then toss your phone onto the bed.
across town, megumi sees the notification pop up and freezes. he stares at your name on his screen, his mind running through every possible reply before he even touches the keyboard.
he types something, deletes it, types again, deletes it again. and sits there with his head in his hands because nothing sounds normal. he finally forces himself to write something and sends: “long story.”
the moment it delivers, he drops his phone onto the couch and groans into his hands, already regretting how vague it sounds. he wanted to explain, he wanted to tell you everything, but the words tangled before he could get them out. the cat climbs into his lap. he glances at his phone again, waiting for your reply.
you stare at megumi’s “long story” message for a while, your thumb tapping against the screen as you try to decide what to say. part of you wants to tease him, part of you wants to demand answers, and part of you just wants to hear his voice again after so long. you settle on something simple: “i have time.” you hit send before you can second‑guess it, your heart thudding in a way you haven’t felt since you were teenagers.
megumi sees the message instantly, his phone lighting up in his hand while he sits on the couch with the cat curled against him. he stares at your words. he types a reply, deletes it, types again, deletes it again, trying to find something that doesn’t sound too eager or too distant. finally, he exhales and writes the one thing that feels right: “can we meet? the old park.”
he hesitates for a moment, thumb hovering over the send button, thinking about the tree you used to sit under, the swings you used to race to, the path you used to walk together every afternoon.
he wonders if you’ll remember all of it the way he does, if the place still holds the same sentiment for you. then he presses send, his chest tightening as the message delivers. he whispers to the cat, “i hope she comes,” even though he knows he’ll be waiting there no matter what.
── ⟢ ・⸝⸝
the park looks almost the same as it did when you were kids, the same old tree standing tall, the same path winding through the grass, the same swings creaking in the breeze. you spot him before he sees you.
megumi standing near the tree in a navy sweater and dark jeans, hands in his pockets like he’s trying to look calm even though he keeps shifting his weight. he looks older, steadier, but somehow exactly like the boy you remember.
you take a breath and call out, “megumi!” your voice carries across the park, and he turns so quickly it’s like he’s been waiting for that exact sound. he walks toward you with that familiar careful pace, eyes fixed on you like he’s trying to take in every detail at once. when he stops in front of you, you tilt your head up and say the first thing that slips out, “you’ve gotten taller.”
megumi lets out a breath, his shoulders relaxing as he looks down at you. “you always used to say that,” he replies, even though you haven’t said it in years. he studies your face for a moment, like he’s checking you’re really here and not something he imagined on a lonely night. then he adds, “you look the same… but also not the same,” his voice affectionate in tone.
the space between you feels full of every memory you ever shared, every moment you missed, every message you almost sent but didn’t. megumi shifts slightly, hands still in his pockets, and says, “i’m glad you came.”
you smile at him, feeling something familiar settle inside you, and say, “me too.”
you both stand under the same tree you used to sit beneath as kids, the branches stretching overhead like they remember you. the air feels steady around you, not tense, just full of everything you’ve been wanting to ask since the moment you saw his story. you shift your weight a little, looking up at him with a mix of confusion.
finally, you say, “so… what’s the story? why is your cat named after me?”
megumi’s eyes flick away for a moment, like he’s trying to gather the right words without giving too much away too fast. he rubs the back of his neck, the navy sleeve of his sweater bunching slightly as he exhales.
he looks back at you, meeting your eyes with a sincerel expression, and says, “i just wanted something that reminded me of you.”
he shifts his hands in his pockets and he’s bracing himself for your reaction even though he’s trying to look calm.
“i got her during a time when we weren't talking,” he continues, his gaze dropping to the ground for a moment. “saying your name every day made things feel easier.”
you feel your breath catch. you take a small step closer, studying his face, noticing the way he keeps glancing at you like he’s checking if he said too much.
“megumi…” you start, but the rest of the sentence doesn’t come out because you’re still processing the weight of what he just admitted.
he gives a tiny shrug, almost shy, and says, “i guess i missed you more than i thought.”
you stand there with megumi under the old tree, the same one that watched you both grow up.
you reach up and touch his cheek gently, your palm cupping it like it’s the most natural thing in the world, and he leans into your hand without hesitation. you look up at him and say, “i missed you too, megumi.”
his eyes soften and he lifts one hand slowly, giving you time to pull away if you want to, but you stay right where you are. his fingers slide to the back of your head, settling there with a steady touch that feels familiar even after all this time. he guides you forward, shifting you into his chest with a careful pull, holding you like he’s afraid you might disappear if he lets go.
you feel his breath against your hair as he murmurs, “i didn’t think you’d say that.”
his other arm wraps around you, drawing you closer until you can feel the steady rise and fall of his chest. the world around you fades into something supplementary, like the years apart have folded themselves into this one moment.
megumi rests his chin lightly against your head and adds, “i’m really glad you’re here.”
you close your eyes, letting yourself sink into him, feeling every memory and every missed moment bloom into something new. his hand stays at the back of your head, steady and sure, like he’s anchoring you both to the place where everything started.
you finally speak, “me too".
megumi holds you a little tighter, and for the first time in a long time, everything feels right.
corner shop run? - tsukishima kei x reader
in which your relationship with your new neighbour, tsukishima, progresses from mutual annoyance to mutual feelings (requested)
cw: tsukishima kei x gn!reader, neighbours/enemies to friends to lovers, tsukki and yamaguchi are roommates, kinda college au / timeskip era (tsukki is in postgrad), so much bickering and sass, jealous tsukki, joking mentions of violence / injury, mention of a creep / stalker, brief angst that gets resolved, getting together, 20+ slides of tsukki being an emotionally constipated acts of service king
a/n: truly don't know how this got so long i just kept getting more and more ideas
summary: a terrible start to tsukishima's morning leaves him stuck with you without your peacemaker yamaguchi.
warnings: enemies to lovers, mutual annoyance/bickering, teasing/bullying (playful), embarrassment humor, flirting disguised as insults, physical closeness/tension, use of idiot.
notes: characters are aged up and of age! reader is said to be tall because all fics i see its like she stops at his ankles! lower case intended and slightly proofread!
wc: 4.1k
tsukishima had known you since middle school.
unfortunately.
that was the exact word he'd use too.
unfortunately.
to say you and tsukishima couldn't stand each other was an understatement, It was a mutual hostility.
the only saving grace of the entire dynamic was yamaguchi.
yamaguchi was an angel. he loved you, always making sure you were included, walking with you, and constantly playing the referee between your arguments and tsukishima’s sarcasm.
but this morning, yamaguchi had stayed home sick with a fever, leaving you to walk to the bus stop alone.
your headphones sat around your neck, your bag hanging lazily off one shoulder.
as you rounded the corner, you spotted a tall, lanky figure on all fours in the grass, frantically swatting at a bush.
"what in the world…" you muttered, slowing your pace.
when you got closer, you recognized the blonde hair and the uniform.
It was tsukishima.
he was squinting so hard his eyes were practically shut, his face filled with frustration and humiliation, upon closer inspection, there was a very obvious, very gross white smudge on the shoulder of his jacket.
you stopped a few feet away, crossing your arms. "tsukishima? did you finally lose your mind, or are you just hunting for worms?"
he flinched at the sound of your voice, his head snapping up. he glared blindly in your general direction, his eyes unfocused. "go away," he snapped. "i don't have time for your stupidity today."
"are you… crying?" you asked, leaning in a bit.
"i am not crying, you idiot! i can't find my glasses," he snarled, his hand swinging out and missing a patch of weeds entirely. "and don't look at me!"
a once in a lifetime miracle like this… tsukishima, pooped on by a pigeon and a swatting bushes.. it could not be wasted.
while tsukishima was still blindly swatting at the bush, muttering curses under his breath, you slipped your phone out of your blazer pocket.
"why did you stop talking?" tsukishima snapped, he turned his head, his blurry, unfocused eyes trying to track you. "why is it quiet? what are you doing, idiot?"
"nothing," you said, calmly as you tapped your screen.
you opened your camera app, switched it to video, and hit record. you zoomed in perfectly on his intensely miserable face, capturing the exact second he accidentally slapped a dandelion. then, you panned the camera upward to his shoulder, showing the pigeon poop on his shoulder while stifling a laugh.
"are you breathing loudly? stop breathing near me," he muttered, completely unaware of the camera tracking his every move.
"i'm just appreciating the view, tsukki," you stifled a snort, keeping the camera perfectly steady. "you look like a newborn giraffe trying to find its mother."
"shut up! just… go away!"
you let the video run for another five seconds, getting a shot of him tripping over his own long legs while still on his knees before finally saving it.
giggling quietly to yourself, you slid the phone back into your blazer pocket.
the blackmail was secured. now, it was time to address the giant, blind nuisance currently flattening a patch of clover.
"alright, alright," you sighed, stepping off the pavement and into the grass. "move your hands before you face plant into a pile of dirt."
"i don't need your charity," he spat, though his body froze in place, his hands hovering over the dirt. "just keep walking to the bus."
"and leave you here to get run over by a bicycle? tempting, but yamaguchi would never forgive me," you said, rolling your sleeves up a bit. "come on, stand up. let me help you look."
"i told you, i'm fine-"
"tsukishima, you're looking at a tree trunk while talking to me. you're not fine." you rolled your eyes, stepping right into his personal space.
you reached down, grabbing him firmly by the forearm. "up. now." he let you pull him to his feet, even though you were remarkably tall yourself, easily clearing the height of most girls in your class and reaching right up to his shoulder, tsukishima still managed to tower over you.
but without his glasses, his usual imposing posture was completely gone. he looked lost…. it was cute!
"don't pull so hard," he muttered, his face flashing with irritation as he leaned slightly into your height to keep his balance.
"then move your giant legs," you grumbled.
fortunately, right next to the patch of grass where he’d been searching was an old, weather worn wooden park bench.
you only had to guide him a couple of steps to the side before the back of his calves hit the wood. "sit," you commanded, gently pushing his shoulder.
tsukishima sank down onto the bench with a heavy, deeply defeated sigh.
he crossed his arms tightly over his chest, his head turning blindly toward the street while you remained standing in the grass right next to him. "are you happy now? i'm sitting. go find them so i can stop looking at your blurry outline."
you turned on your heel, taking a wide step deeper into the tall grass. your eyes scanned the overgrown clover, your long legs parting the weeds as you looked for a glint of plastic. "for a volleyball player, your depth perception is tragic."
"where did you even say they went?" you muttered, shifting a thick patch of weeds aside with the toe of your flats.
his voice drifted over from the bench with irritation. "they bounced. just look near the base of the telephone pole. and stop kicking the dirt, you're going to scratch the lenses."
"yeah, yeah, whatever," you grumbled. you bent your long frame over, hands on your knees as you thoroughly scanned the area. you checked around the rusted base of the pole. nothing.
you moved a little further back, parted a cluster of yellow dandelions, and squinted into the overgrown hedge. still nothing.
"are you sure a pigeon didn't just fly off with them?" you called out. "because i'm looking right where you told me and there's literally nothing here but bugs and dirt."
"they didn't grow wings and fly away," tsukki snapped, sitting rigidly on the bench, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. he was staring blindly ahead, "you're just not looking properly. as usual."
"oh, excuse me for trying to do you a favor!" you shot back, taking a large, annoyed step backward to try a different angle. "at least i'm not the idiot who managed to lose my gl-"
crunch.
you froze dead in your tracks, your stomach dropping instantly. slowly, you lifted your right foot.
there, pressed directly into the dirt, were tsukishima’s black rimmed glasses. miraculously, the lenses hadn't shattered or even cracked, but the frame itself was ruined. your foot had come down dead center on the bridge, snapping the glasses completely in half right over the nose piece.
you were looking at two separate, completely disconnected eyepieces resting in the dirt.
"what was that?" tsukishima demanded from the bench, his head snapping instantly toward the sound. his eyes widened in absolute panic. "hey. what did you just do?"
panic surged through you. you leaned down and snatched up the two separate halves of the glasses, shoving them behind your back as you straightened up to your full height.
"nothing!" you yelled back, your voice squeaking just a fraction too high. "just… a really big twig! man, nature is crazy out here. these twigs are getting out of hand."
"don't lie to me!" he braced his hands on the edge of the bench, leaning forward aggressively, though he stayed seated, too blind to risk running into the bushes. "you stepped on them, didn't you?! i heard plastic snap!"
"i didn't step on anything, i swear!" you lied through your teeth, keeping your hands firmly hidden behind your back. "you told me they rolled into the bushes, remember? i'm not even near the bushes yet. you probably just heard my shoe hitting a rock. or a really, really crisp leaf."
"a crisp leaf doesn't sound like a cracking skull, idiot," he hissed, his eyes narrowing at nothing. "If you found them, just give them to me already."
"well, i did just find them," you mumbled, shifting your weight from one foot to the other as a twinge of genuine guilt finally started to eat at you.
you walked back over to the bench, the tall grass rustling against your shins, and slid onto the wooden slats right beside him.
because of your height, your shoulders were nearly level as you sat together, though you leaned away to avoid the poop on his sleeve that he still didn't know about.
slowly, you brought your hands around from behind your back, holding out the two completely detached pieces of his frames. "but… they were already like this when i reached down. totally split down the middle. must have been a manufacturing defect. or something."
he reached out, his long fingers blindly brushing against your hands until he grabbed the two separate halves. he held them a mere two inches from his nose, staring at the perfectly clean break right over the nose piece.
his entire face went blank. "a manufacturing defect," he whispered, his voice dropping, make an actual made a shiver run down your spine. "my glasses, which i have worn for a year, decided to perfectly split in half the exact second your foot came down?"
"hey, stranger things have happened!" you shrugged, crossing your arms. "i definitely didn't crush them. but since i'm a nice person, i'm going to fix them."
before he could protest or drop the pieces, you snatched them right back out of his fingers. you unzipped the front pocket of your school bag and dug past your wallet and your keys until your fingers brushed against exactly what you were looking for.
you pulled out a small, bright roll of decorative washi tape. it was neon pink and covered in tiny, smiling hello kitty faces.
tsukishima couldn't see the exact design, but the sheer, blinding brightness of the pink in your hands made his jaw tighten. "what is that. tell me that isn't what i think it is."
"it's structural engineering, tsukki," you said with seriousness. ignoring his glare, you set your bag down and got to work.
you lined up the broken bridge of the frames on your lap, pinching the two halves tightly together with the fingers of your left hand.
tsukishima sat silently beside you, his chest brushing against your shoulder as he leaned in close, blinking uselessly at your lap to try and see what you were doing.
using your teeth, you ripped off a long, sticky strip of the neon pink hello kitty tape. balancing the frames, you began tightly wrapping the tape right around the center of the bridge.
you went around once, twice, three times, binding the two halves back together. the sweet, innocent faces of hello kitty were now tightly bound directly over the nose piece, completely secure.
when you finished taping, you noticed a bit of damp grass and a smudge of dirt clinging to the lenses from their time in the weeds. pulling a soft cloth from your bag, you carefully wiped the glasses off until the glass was completely clean.
"alright, hold still," you said. shifting your weight, you turned fully toward him on the bench, pulling one leg up onto the wooden slats to face him directly.
because you were sitting side by side and both tall, your faces were practically level as you leaned into his personal space.
you carefully unfolded the arms of the newly customized glasses, and slipped them over his ears. your fingers briefly brushed the warm, flushed skin near his temples as you adjusted them onto the bridge of his nose.
tsukishima blinked, the very first thing he saw was your face barely inches from his, a smug grin plastered across your features.
but worst of all, when he looked down his nose, a massive, bright pink blob filled his vision.
you didn't pull away. instead, you tilted your head, your eyes scanning his incredibly irritated face. a massive, teasing smile broke across your lips. "aw, look at you," you cooed, your voice full of exaggerated sweetness.
you reached out, gently tapping the tip of his nose right beneath the bright pink tape. "you look absolutely precious, kei-chan. it really softens your sour personality."
tsukishima's jaw dropped slightly, his eyes widening behind the lenses. his ears instantly turned a deep shade of scarlet.. partly from annoyance, and partly because having you this close and calling him that, was doing dangerous things to his composure. "do not call me that. and get out of my face."
"why? are you getting flustered?" you giggled, leaning in just a fraction closer to admire your handiwork, secretly thrilled by how much you were getting under his skin.
"honestly, the pink is totally your color. it makes you look so cute and approachable! the little volleyball club other first years might actually think you're a nice person now. oh, kageyama is going to love this."
"i will bury you in the gym floor," he hissed.
"see? adorable," you laughed, quickly whipping your phone out of your pocket.
before he could react, you held the phone up, lining up the camera perfectly, the shutter sound was loud.
"delete that," tsukishima said immediately, lunging forward to swat the phone out of your hand.
you took another selfie, this time it was the two of you, your beaming smile was a hilarious contrast to his murderous, bright red face, the neon pink hello kitty tape sitting right between his glaring eyes.
"i am going to smash your phone into pieces," he muttered.
you slid the phone into your blazer pocket just as the loud screech of the bus brakes finally echoed down the street.
you stood up, laughing to yourself, you smoothed down your school skirt and turned toward the curb. "now let's go. we have a bus to catch, and everyone at school needs to appreciate my beautiful art."
behind you, tsukishima let out a low, shaky exhale, he adjusted his ridiculous pink glasses, a small helpless smirk finally tugging at the corner of his lips as he stood up to follow you.
"oh, by the way, kei" you said turning to face him, walking backwards.
he paused for a sec before walking again, his hand frozen near his glasses as he glared at you. "what now?"
"i forgot to mention," you giggled, pointing a finger directly at his shoulder.
"while you were busy having your little blind panic attack back there, a bird completely blasted you. there is a massive, pile of bird poop sitting right on your shoulder."
tsukishima froze. his entire body went still as your words registered.
slowly, he turned his head. his eyes locked onto his own shoulder, and his face instantly twisted into a look of sheer, unadulterated horror as he finally saw the white poop staining his school blazer.
"you-" he choked out, his voice cracking with absolute betrayal. "you knew about this the entire time?!"
"yep! it's in all the photos too!" you cheered, offering him a cheerful thumbs up as you stepped backward up the bus stairs.
he frantically reached into his bag for a tissue, he looked like he wanted the earth to open up and swallow him whole. "i hate you. i hate you more than anyone else on this planet."
a moment later, tsukishima practically stomped up the stairs behind you.
the bus driver gave him a long concerned look, staring first at the bright neon pink hello kitty tape holding his glasses together, and then at the furious, frantic way tsukishima was aggressively dabbing at his left shoulder with a crumpled tissue.
kei completely ignored him, keeping his head down and his jaw tightly clenched.
naturally, because the morning commute was packed, there was only one row of empty space left, the long bench seat at the very back of the bus.
you slid into the window seat, hugging your school bag tightly against your chest as you scrolled through your phone.
tsukki dropped onto the seat right next to you, his long legs cramping into the tight space.
every time you shifted your weight, your knee knocked against his, sending a familiar, electric jolt up your spine.
tsukki groaned, tugging off his blazer.
you opened your gallery and tapped on the video from this morning, you leaned in close, your shoulder pressing firmly against his, and nudged his arm with your elbow. "hey. look."
"leave me alone," he muttered, keeping his eyes glued straight ahead. "i am ignoring you for the foreseeable future."
"oh, come on, tsukki. you're missing out on some incredible cinematography," you teased, turning the phone screen directly into his line of sight and hitting play.
the volume was down to a faint, low whisper, but the quality was clear. the video opened with a zoomed in shot of him on all fours in the grass, squinting blindly.
and the exact second his hand came down and slapped a dandelion, your own muffled, wheezing laughter echoed quietly through the phone speaker. then, the camera smoothly panned upward, capturing the massive white pile on his shoulder in all its glory.
tsukishima’s breath hitched. "you are an absolute demon," he whispered.
"look at your little squinty eyes!" you chuckled, clamping a hand over your mouth to stifle a loud laugh so the rest of the passengers wouldn't look back at you.
you leaned in closer, your shoulder pressing firmly against his as you pointed at the screen. "you looked so helpless! and the pan to the shoulder? truly iconic. i'm keeping this forever."
"delete it. right now," he ordered.
he lunged across the cramped space between the seats, his hand reaching down to snatch the device right out of your lap.
but you were already anticipating the move. you pulled the phone back against your chest, leaning away from him with a grin.
"no way! this is blackmail gold," you whispered back loudly, your eyes dancing as you looked up at him. "i might even make it my lock screen."
"i am going to throw your phone out the window," he hissed, but he didn't pull back. instead, he trapped you.
tsukishima planted his left hand firmly on the seat right next to your thigh, and his right arm reached completely over your lap, his fingers wrapping tightly around your wrist to pin it against your school bag.
because of his massive frame, he effectively blocked out the entire bus aisle, crowding your tall frame completely into the corner of the back seat. your breath caught in your throat.
he was barely inches away, the sudden proximity made your heart do a flip.
you could feel the heat of his body, and smell the clean, faint scent of his laundry detergent around you.
from this close, you could see the blush creeping up his neck and dusting his cheekbones. his eyes, completely focused and unblinking behind the ridiculous taped glasses, locked directly onto yours.
"give me the phone," he murmured. his voice lost its sharpness, replaced with a breathless tone that made your pulse spike.
"make me," you whispered back, your voice coming out a fraction of a second too late, completely failing to maintain your usual tough exterior.
tsukki's gaze flickered. for a moment, his eyes dropped down to your lips, lingering there for what felt like an absolute eternity.
his grip on your wrist tightened, his thumb lightly brushing the soft skin right over your racing pulse.
the fake animosity between you completely evaporated, leaving nothing but the suffocating warmth of the packed bus and the undeniable, terrifying truth of how much you wanted him to just lean in the rest of the way.
he swallowed hard, his throat bobbing, and his eyelashes fluttered as he slowly began to close the tiny remaining distance between your faces.
Screech!
the bus hit a massive pothole in the road, the violent jolt tossing the entire back row upward.
you both flinched violently, breaking apart as if you’d been struck by lightning.
tsukishima ripped his hands back, slamming his spine against the seat and throwing his head down, his entire face, ears, and neck turning a shade of crimson.
you scrambled backward against the window, your face burning so hot you thought your skin might actually melt.
───〃★
the rest of the bus ride passed in a tense, hyper aware silence, the heat of his shoulder pressed against yours, made it impossible to focus on anything else.
every time the bus took a sharp turn, your long frames shifted together.
by the time the bus came to a halt in front of karasuno high, you were practically bursting out of your skin.
the doors hissed open, and you scrambled out of the seat first, eager to escape the suffocating closeness.
kei trailed behind you, your tall figures drawing immediate, bewildered stares from the passing students.
the morning sun illuminated the pink hello kitty tape right on his nose, casting a pink shadow across his cheek.
"hey! tsukishima! what is on your face?!"
you spun around just in time to see hinata and kageyama jogging up the campus walkway, their club bags swinging.
hinata was pointing a trembling, dumbfounded finger at tsukishima’s face, his jaw practically dropping to the pavement.
"is that… hello kitty?" kageyama muttered, squinting in disbelief.
tsukishima’s entire face darkened. he stopped dead in his tracks, his golden brown eyes flashing with a mix of murderous rage and pure humiliation behind the lenses. "it's none of your business. move."
"did you let a toddler customize you?!" hinata wheezed, clapping a hand over his mouth as he tried.. and failed to stifle a massive laugh.
before tsukishima could actually commit a double homicide right on the school lawn, you smoothly stepped into the space between them, crossing your arms and looking down at the two other first years.
"hey, show some respect," you lectured, your voice dripping with faux seriousness, "that is high grade structural engineering. if it wasn't for my artistic genius, your middle blocker would be blind today and crashing into the net during practice."
kageyama's eyes darted from you to tsukishima, a sudden, knowing smirk breaking across his face. then, hinata spoke. "wait… you did that to him? and he let you?"
"he didn't have a choice," you chimed in, throwing a grin over your shoulder at tsukishima, whose ears were now turning red again.
"i hate both of you," tsukishima muttered under his breath, his fingers tightening so hard around the straps of his school bag that his knuckles turned white.
he aggressively brushed past the group, his shoulder catching yours as he passed, sending a jolt right down your spine. "i'm going to class."
"wait up, kei-chan!" you called out, not noticing the suspicious looks hinata and kageyama were exchanging behind your back.
you jogged a few steps to catch up to his long, angry strides, falling into a familiar rhythm right at his side. as you entered the shoe locker area, the cool shade of the building felt great compared to the morning heat.
tsukki slammed his locker door shut, changing into his indoor slippers with unnecessary force.
"you're enjoying this way too much," he muttered.
"obviously," you laughed, leaning against the wall right next to his locker. "it's not every day i get to see you walking around looking like a sanrio mascot."
he finally snapped his head up, slightly looking down at you through his glasses.
the fake annoyance in his eyes, turned into that intense, heavy gaze that always made your breath catch in your throat.
he took a single step closer, trapping you slightly against the wall, his shoulders blocking out the hallway traffic.
"if you think this means you win," he whispered, "you're completely delusional. i'm going to make your life a living hell for the rest of the week."
"i'd like to see you try, four eyes," you mumbled, your voice coming out a little softer than you wanted as your heart hammered against your ribs.
a small, smile finally tugged at the corner of his lips.. he reached up, his long, warm fingers briefly brushing against the side of your neck as he adjusted your blazer collar, the heat of his touch leaving your skin tingling.
"just wait," he murmured, before turning on his heel and walking toward his classroom.
you stood there for a second, gripping the straps of your school bag, waiting for your burning cheeks to cool down, completely helpless to the ridiculous crush you swore you'd never admit to.
Do you think I'm batshit crazy, having you on my mind?
Do you think I'm helpless?
My algebra gon' equal you every time
Do you think I'm calling out your name every night?
tsukishima kei x reader
cw: academic rivals to lovers | angst + banter + soft confession, sharp tongues, romantic tension, one (1) kiss
synopsis: you’ve always hated him. until you didn’t. until he looked at you like you were the only person on the planet who could keep up.
“you’re not nearly as clever as you think you are.” he smirks.
“no. i’m exactly as clever as i think i am.”
There are 27 people in your paleontology class. yet somehow, for the third time this semester, your name is right next to his on the group assignment list. you stare at the screen like it personally betrayed you.
tsukishima kei. again.
You’re convinced your professor is a sadist. Or worse: a matchmaker.
“I think she wants to see us kill each other.”
“Or kiss,” Yamaguchi had added once, not looking up from his textbook.
you almost choked on your coffee. working with Tsukishima is like trying to outsmart a chess grandmaster who’s already won before the game started. he’s quiet, sharp. condescending in that effortless, unbothered, smug way that makes you want to launch your laptop into the sun.
“You rewrote my entire introduction.” you barged into the cafe he was sitting in.
he glanced at you, then back to his leptop. “It was redundant.”
“It was precise.” you starred daggers at the boy.
“It was six paragraphs of you repeating the same thesis with more adjectives.” he threw his hands up. your mouth hung open, offended. he types like he’s bored. speaks like he’s challenging you. exists like he knows you’ll rise to the bait every single time.
And you do.
Because—may god help you—it’s addicting. late nights in the library turn into a routine. him with his earbuds half in, you with your annotated notes, both pretending the tension in the air isn’t tangible.
“I don’t hate working with you,” he says one night.
you blink.
“woah, did the earth just stop rotating?” you looked around like everything's suddenly just gonna collapse.
he doesn’t laugh. but he does look at you like you’re a puzzle he’s finally starting to enjoy solving.
the presentation goes too well. your arguments flow. Your graphs align. Tsukishima—cold, dry Tsukishima—actually smiles when you finish your closing remarks.
And then he says: “Her analysis on bias resilience was the backbone of our entire framework.”
you freeze. he didn’t have to say that.
he chose to.
After class. Empty hallway. Your heart’s still pounding from adrenaline. he adjusts the strap of his backpack, tilts his head. “you looked like you were going to pass out.”
“I was fine.” you replied fast.
“You were blushing.”
“You quoted me in front of the whole class!”
he shrugs. “You were right.”
silence.
a beat.
a shift.
And then:
“What are we doing, Tsukishima?”
his eyes meet yours.
“We argue. We compete. You look at me like you want to kill me half the time.”
he steps closer.
“You look at me like you’re trying not to kiss me.”
your breath catches.
“Say it,” he murmurs. “Say you don’t hate me.”
you swallow.
“I don’t.”
you pause.
“I think I admire you. Which is worse.” he smiles—a real smile, crooked and soft and just a little cocky.
“Good. Because I admire you too. Even when you’re insufferable.”
And then he kisses you.
Not gentle. Not soft.
It’s months of rivalry, tension, frustration, admiration—exploding in one moment of messy, brilliant, genius-level chemistry.
Do you think I'm batshit crazy, having you on my mind?
Do you think I'm helpless?
My algebra gon' equal you every time
Do you think I'm calling out your name every night?
tsukishima kei x reader
cw: academic rivals to lovers | angst + banter + soft confession, sharp tongues, romantic tension, one (1) kiss
synopsis: you’ve always hated him. until you didn’t. until he looked at you like you were the only person on the planet who could keep up.
“you’re not nearly as clever as you think you are.” he smirks.
“no. i’m exactly as clever as i think i am.”
There are 27 people in your paleontology class. yet somehow, for the third time this semester, your name is right next to his on the group assignment list. you stare at the screen like it personally betrayed you.
tsukishima kei. again.
You’re convinced your professor is a sadist. Or worse: a matchmaker.
“I think she wants to see us kill each other.”
“Or kiss,” Yamaguchi had added once, not looking up from his textbook.
you almost choked on your coffee. working with Tsukishima is like trying to outsmart a chess grandmaster who’s already won before the game started. he’s quiet, sharp. condescending in that effortless, unbothered, smug way that makes you want to launch your laptop into the sun.
“You rewrote my entire introduction.” you barged into the cafe he was sitting in.
he glanced at you, then back to his leptop. “It was redundant.”
“It was precise.” you starred daggers at the boy.
“It was six paragraphs of you repeating the same thesis with more adjectives.” he threw his hands up. your mouth hung open, offended. he types like he’s bored. speaks like he’s challenging you. exists like he knows you’ll rise to the bait every single time.
And you do.
Because—may god help you—it’s addicting. late nights in the library turn into a routine. him with his earbuds half in, you with your annotated notes, both pretending the tension in the air isn’t tangible.
“I don’t hate working with you,” he says one night.
you blink.
“woah, did the earth just stop rotating?” you looked around like everything's suddenly just gonna collapse.
he doesn’t laugh. but he does look at you like you’re a puzzle he’s finally starting to enjoy solving.
the presentation goes too well. your arguments flow. Your graphs align. Tsukishima—cold, dry Tsukishima—actually smiles when you finish your closing remarks.
And then he says: “Her analysis on bias resilience was the backbone of our entire framework.”
you freeze. he didn’t have to say that.
he chose to.
After class. Empty hallway. Your heart’s still pounding from adrenaline. he adjusts the strap of his backpack, tilts his head. “you looked like you were going to pass out.”
“I was fine.” you replied fast.
“You were blushing.”
“You quoted me in front of the whole class!”
he shrugs. “You were right.”
silence.
a beat.
a shift.
And then:
“What are we doing, Tsukishima?”
his eyes meet yours.
“We argue. We compete. You look at me like you want to kill me half the time.”
he steps closer.
“You look at me like you’re trying not to kiss me.”
your breath catches.
“Say it,” he murmurs. “Say you don’t hate me.”
you swallow.
“I don’t.”
you pause.
“I think I admire you. Which is worse.” he smiles—a real smile, crooked and soft and just a little cocky.
“Good. Because I admire you too. Even when you’re insufferable.”
And then he kisses you.
Not gentle. Not soft.
It’s months of rivalry, tension, frustration, admiration—exploding in one moment of messy, brilliant, genius-level chemistry.
[very strong suicidal themes and strong topics. can not stress enough these warnings, reader is suicidal. v strong self projection... english isn’t my first language.]
the first time you ever had a proper conversation with sukuna ryomen, he saved your life.
that day was supposed to be your last, really. you had everything planned— letters written, belongings labeled with who to give them to, a plan in mind, and no doubt in your heart on what you were going to do.
you had nothing left.
your family would move on. your friends were already so busy, which would help. they would be distracted and they would move on, too. nothing in the world would stop, the world would continue spinning, and you were just so, utterly tired. you didn’t care about ‘being selfish’, all you cared about was just how badly you needed everything to stop.
you were just so tired.
too tired, in fact, to focus on anything as you walked into the roof of a frat party, deciding to enjoy one last party before you could finally rest. the roof was surprisingly empty, and you stood near the edge, leaning on the ledge quietly, eyes down on everyone partying downstairs, laughing and dancing and enjoying their best years.
the view was slowly becoming more blurry, your eyes glossing over with tears, taking a quiet, shaky breath, mourning the happiness you failed to ever achieve.
just then, the roof door slammed open, a loud groan echoing. “fucking choso always giving people the key. hey, you.”
you glanced over, gaze blank, vision cloudy with tears that you forced not to drop, and you paused. you could identify the tan, pink-haired frat president even with your vision blurry— fuck, probably even with your eyes shut.
sukuna ryomen was known.
the usual cliché frat president, really. a heartless asshole who’s great in bed, with a burning hot temper and knuckles that are always bruised with strangers’ faces to match. although, he definitely was prettier than any guy you had ever seen— not that it mattered, really, you never cared enough to focus on pretty guys when your first priority was to survive, but he was easy on the eyes.
for some reason, the 6’4 football player froze as soon as your eyes met. you only blinked blankly, barely able to properly see him, lack of lights on the roof and tears not helping the slightest. you sniffled, praying your voice doesn’t crack as you spoke. “sorry, am i not supposed to be here?”
he was frozen for a few more seconds, then frowned. “you’re in my monday class.”
you blinked, not expecting him to recognize you, before slowly nodding, not trusting your voice to not shake if you spoke again, he stared at you for a while longer, before walking over, leaning on the ledge beside you.
you didn’t care enough to overthink it, really, not enough to even think twice about why the life of the party was on the roof beside you instead of doing a line of shots downstairs. instead, you resumed staring at the party downstairs, trying to enjoy the last few hours—
“i don’t know you that well, but,” sukuna murmured, voice low. you blinked once, thanking the darkness for concealing the tears that finally dropped, keeping your gaze ahead as he sighed. you expected him to say something shallow, irrelevant— the kind of stuff frat boys spew to random girls on rooftops. “give it another try.”
you blinked, mind going blank for a moment. you were quiet for a beat, eyebrows slowly furrowing in confusion, because there was simply no way he was saying what you thought he was. “…what?”
“give it another try.” he grunted, voice low, serious. “one year ago, i was standing on this stupid roof with those exact tired, hopeless eyes and coming up with a plan because i wanted everything to stop. now ‘m fucking thriving.”
you froze, quiet and silent, heart beating too loud that you couldn’t hear your own thoughts anymore. sukuna kept getting blurrier, but you saw his head move to look at you before he sighed loudly. “…i’m not going to do anything, not even stop you. but, i know exactly how you feel, and i’m promising you, it really does get so much fucking better.”
“…bullshit,” you mumbled. your voice was quiet, hissed between gasps that were a pathetic attempt not to cry. he only hummed, quiet.
“i would have answered that way, too.” he muttered, voice quieter. “funny, isn’t it?”
you didn’t answer. you kept staring straight ahead, and sniffled. after a few quiet minutes, you breathed out, trying not to bawl in front of the stranger in your class. “…what stopped you?”
he let out a faint chuckle. it sounded sad.
“…you.” he muttered. you turned to him this time, utterly confused, no longer caring about the tears streaming down your face and how much of a mess you definitely looked. if he was looking at you in disgust, you definitely wouldn’t have noticed through the tears, anyways. his voice remained almost gentle, though. “that was the semester i never forgot to bring a fucking pen with me. everyday i showed up, and no one had an extra one, and i had to go get one from outside the fucking room. then, that day, i showed up, and you had two. you got one for me, a stranger, and i realized that maybe i wasn’t as invisible and meaningless as i felt.”
your breath halted, body freezing, tears flowing even faster. you could feel the neckline if your hoodie soaked with tears from how long you had been crying, but it barely registered in your mind when sukuna was casually mentioning that the reason he stood alive in front of you today was because you brought him a fucking pen. your eyes were wide, lips wobbling as they parted wordlessly, and you could finally make out the faint, sad smile on his lips.
“i just planned to raincheck it, you know. couldn’t let your pens go to waste. but, by the time the semester ended, i felt... better. i remember fucking laughing then, because holy fucking shit, it really does get better.” he stated calmly, reaching over, warm fingers wiping your tears in a way rhat was so nonchalant that it almost made you laugh. “so, trust me, i know how it feels. gets really fucking better.”
“…what if it doesn’t?” you finally manage to choke out. he hummed quietly, taking the time to think, before his fingers dropped away from your face.
“then you will get better,” he spoke, voice serious. “you’ll heal and adapt.”
“i don’t think i have it in me, sukuna.” you whimpered. “i don’t… i’m so tired…”
strong, yet gentle arms wrapped around you, pulling you into a solid chest. he held you so firmly yet so carefully, as if you were going to break if he breathed wrong.
“…let’s try,” he whispered, a hand gently sliding to hold your head gently as you broke, sobbing, the sound muffled by his shirt, which you definitely were ruining. “one more try. just one more, and then ‘ll never bother you anymore. i’ll even give you a pen, just one more semester, okay?”
you sobbed harder. he held you patiently, waiting for your cries to die down, never once loosening his grip, fingers carefully rubbing your back to comfort you. after a few minutes, you finally pulled away, harshly wiping your tears, and he spoke again, voice even quieter. “one semester, and then i’ll let you do whatever you want, i promise. please.”
you rubbed your eyes harder, as if that would remove the pounding headache that refused to leave you, even in your worst moments. “…you don’t have to be involved in this, sukuna.”
“i want to be.” he immediately argued, no hesitation. “least i can do after you saved my life, really.”
“that’s stupid. i just gave you a stupid pen.”
“that stupid pen saved my life,” he repeated, frowning. “please? please.”
you scoffed, the sleeves of your hoodie still covering your palms that you had pressed to your eyes; avoiding looking at him. “…i really don’t want you burdened.”
“you think i would do this if i didn’t want to?” he grunted. “have you heard nothing about me?”
you were quiet for a while, before you finally sighed.
you already had everything written and packed, plan ready, everything prepared. you already survived for twenty years, a few more months weren’t too bad, right? and it wasn’t like you had to force yourself if things became unbearable again, you could always just… do it.
worst case, sukuna would just end up as another letter in your life.
eventually, the curiosity of how sukuna thought he could ever make things better won, and you sighed, sniffling as you dropped your palms off your eyes, looking at him, your eyes exhausted and swollen. “…one semester.”
sukuna ryomen grinned like he won the fucking lottery. “i promise you, you’ll never regret this.”
and years later, as you laid in bed, turning off the alarm set for you to go to a job in a career you finally felt comfortable in, sitting in a room with mirrors you no longer despised even glancing at, with sukuna’s heavy arm wrapped around your waist because your clingy husband refused to let you get out of bed with ease, your lips twitched into a small, tiny smile.
yeah, gets really fucking better.
a/n: this was lowk horrible but using this fic to cope so it doesn’t matter anyways. do u guys like my new dividers I LOVE THEM shoutout to my tumblr crush fr <3
olruggio of the torch and olly are two different people.
olruggio of the torch is his public persona. that's what this panel is depicting. it's an act, he's putting on a show. he's peeking out from behind the curtain.
