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[whasabi]

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whasabi | aka ary (✓)

⠀·⠀eighteen ⋅ 07 ⋅ jjk ⋅ her ⋅ writer ⋅

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© 2026 whasabi. All work belongs to @whasabi. Do NOT modify, feed into ai, translate or plagiarize in any way.

[whasabi]

i want u to know babe, i love ur papa kuna so much its so cute and youre great at characterizing him, i cant wait to see where the series goes so thank u bae for ur gift of writing <3

ok so I love you

[whasabi]

i NEED more stern/protective papakuna so baddddddd. no one else characterizes him as well as u do 💔

let me get to writing...

[whasabi]

papa!kuna who gets visibly restless when you’re fertile because your scent is driving him insane.

the house had been quiet all afternoon, yet sukuna couldn’t sit still.

he had tried. for about five minutes.

now he was pacing again, slow and restless, the heavy sound of his footsteps moving back and forth across the hardwood floor. from the living room window to the kitchen counter, then back again, his broad shoulders tense and his arms folded tight across his chest like he was trying to physically hold himself together.

it wasn’t working.

the scent lingered in the air. subtle, faint, something no normal person would ever notice. to anyone else the house smelled the same as always — clean laundry, warm air from the vents, the faint sweetness of the candles you liked to light in the evening.

but sukuna wasn’t human.

his jaw clenched. it had started the moment he woke up that morning beside you. the change was immediate.

before his eyes had even fully opened, his senses had caught it, that subtle shift in your scent, warmer, sweeter, something deeper underneath your skin that made something ancient in him stir awake. he had laid there for a moment, completely still, staring at the ceiling while his brain caught up with what his instincts had already figured out.

fertile.

his eyes slowly slid toward you where you were still asleep beside him, hair spread across the pillow, breathing slow and even.

and the scent was everywhere. by the time you woke up, sukuna was already tense. the problem was that it didn’t stop there.

throughout the day the changes only became more obvious to him. not obvious in ways humans would notice — not something written plainly on your face — but sukuna could see it anyway. the faint warmth in your skin, the subtle way your body moved differently, the barely noticeable flush across your chest when you stretched.

things that meant nothing to anyone else. things that drove him insane. another slow turn across the living room. his hand dragged over his mouth as he exhaled through his nose, irritation simmering just beneath the surface.

from down the hallway came the soft sound of you moving around in the bedroom. fabric shifting. a drawer opening. the scent drifted stronger the moment the air shifted through the house.

sukuna stopped mid-step.

his head tilted slightly toward the hallway, eyes narrowing like he was tracking something invisible.

“…tch.”

he tried sitting earlier. lasted maybe three minutes before he stood back up again.

something in him refused to settle. his instincts were restless, pacing beneath his skin just like his body was pacing across the floor. every time you walked past him today, every time you leaned close to grab something or brushed his arm without thinking, the reaction was immediate.

heat. sharp and distracting. it had been building all day.

another slow step across the room before he stopped again, staring down the hallway like it had personally offended him. you walked out a second later, completely unaware.

“why do you keep pacing?” you asked casually, leaning against the wall as you looked at him. “you’ve been doing that for like… twenty minutes.”

sukuna didn’t answer right away. his eyes dropped to you. and immediately he regretted it. because up close the changes were worse.

there was a warmth to your skin he could see clear as day, a faint flush sitting just beneath the surface that most people would assume was nothing. your scent wrapped around him instantly the moment you stepped into the room, stronger now that you were close.

his fingers flexed slightly at his side.

you tilted your head at him. “are you even listening?”

he stared at you for a long moment, eyes dark and calculating, before his gaze slowly dragged down your body and back up again.

a quiet breath left his nose.

“…yeah,” he muttered finally.

another pause.

then his eyes narrowed slightly.

“you seriously don’t notice it?” he asked.

you blinked. “notice what?”

sukuna stared at you like the answer should be obvious. his tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek as he looked away with a faint click of irritation.

“…your cycle,” he said bluntly.

you froze slightly.

“what about it?”

his gaze slid back to you slowly. for a moment he didn’t say anything, just studying you again in that way that made heat creep up your neck. then he exhaled slowly through his nose. “you’re ovulating,” he said flatly.

your eyebrows knit together. “…what?”

sukuna gestured vaguely toward you with one hand, already turning away like the conversation was obvious. “i can smell it,” he said simply.

you stared at him.

“…you can what?”

he glanced over his shoulder at you, eyes sharp with mild annoyance.

“curse instincts,” he replied. “thought that’d be obvious by now.”

the room went quiet for a second. and then sukuna dragged a hand through his hair, clearly irritated again as he started pacing once more. “it’s distracting,” he muttered under his breath.

because every step you took, every shift of your body, every warm pulse of that scent in the air made something deep in his chest tighten.

and it was getting harder and harder to ignore.

more papa!kuna here

[whasabi]

you thought you were done having kids, papa!kuna thinks otherwise.

you say it lightly, almost like a joke, “one is enough. our son was already chaotic enough.”

he doesn’t move. he doesn’t even blink. he just watches you, silent and calm. the quiet between you feels heavy, like the air itself is holding its breath, waiting for him to decide something.

you notice the way his gaze lingers a second too long, the way his jaw tightens ever so slightly, like he’s thinking and planning all at once. it’s not anger. it’s control, it’s certainty, and it makes your pulse spike in a way that leaves you unsteady.

he steps closer without a word, and suddenly the space between you shrinks. his presence fills the room. you can feel the warmth radiating from him, the subtle power in the way he moves, the way he doesn’t rush but doesn’t hesitate either.

his hand finds yours and grips it firmly. not harshly, but enough that you feel the weight of his attention. he guides you to sit beside him, and when his other hand tilts your chin up, your eyes lock on his. you try to look away, and fail. the pull of him is magnetic, impossible to resist.

“no. we’re not done,” he says, his voice quiet but certain, steady like stone. it’s not a question, it’s not a negotiation. it’s a declaration.

you try to laugh it off, attempting casual, “i don’t know… maybe—”

“stop hiding,” he interrupts, low and firm, but not cruel. there’s authority in his voice, a dominance that doesn’t shout but bends the space around it. “tell me what you want.”

your stomach twists. your heartbeat feels too loud in your chest. the tension in his proximity, in his hands on you, in the way his gaze pins you in place, makes it impossible to breathe normally. you feel exposed, and yet… strangely safe.

he leans closer, just enough that you feel the warmth of his chest brushing against your shoulder. you notice how deliberately slow his movements are, how carefully he reads your reactions, how he doesn’t take control of the moment all at once. he guides you, pulls you in, and leaves space for you to follow.

his voice drops another notch, intimate, almost a whisper: “you don’t have to think about it. i will.”

you can’t help the small shiver that runs through you. you try to avert your eyes, and he tilts your chin up again, catching your gaze and holding it. the way he looks at you, patient but insistent, dominant but calm, makes your knees feel weak.

“i... i think… maybe…” you manage, voice quiet and uncertain.

he leans even closer, just close enough that you feel the heat of him, the subtle brush of his lips near your ear, and it sends an unexpected thrill through you. he doesn’t touch more than needed, doesn’t rush, but the proximity, the tension, it’s almost unbearable.

he tilts his head slightly, eyes never leaving yours. there’s approval there, quiet and commanding, the kind that makes your chest ache with both anticipation and relief. he has been waiting for this moment all along. you feel it in every measured movement, every deliberate pause.

his hands slide from your face to your neck, thumbs tracing the curve of your jaw as if memorizing it. you breathe unevenly, caught between wanting to pull back and wanting to lean in closer. he notices and tightens his grip subtly, just enough to remind you that he’s in control, but still giving you the choice to stay.

“then it’s settled,” he says softly, low, his lips brushing the side of your temple as he speaks. “one more. i’ll handle the rest.”

you lean into him, letting yourself sink against the weight of his certainty. your fingers lace with his, holding on because it feels right, because it feels inevitable. your mind is spinning, heart racing, body tingling from the way he has claimed this moment without forcing it.

he moves his lips to your ear now, hot breath sending a wave of heat down your spine. “don’t even think about saying no,” he murmurs, dominant but not cruel, teasing and deliberate. “you know what you want. i know what you want. stop pretending otherwise.”

your cheeks flush, both from the intimacy and the subtle tension in his tone. your hands rest on his chest, feeling the steady beat of him, the way he doesn’t rush, the way every movement, every word, draws you closer.

he slides one hand from your jaw to your shoulder, brushing the edge of your shirt. you catch yourself shivering, and he notices, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “there,” he says softly, voice low, “you’re reacting. you want this too. stop hiding it from me.”

he leans back slightly, just enough to let you breathe, and his eyes never leave yours. the room is quiet except for your breathing, your heart, and the subtle heat between you. you want to speak, to confirm, to deny, but his presence alone is enough to make the words come out.

“i… i think i do,” you admit finally, voice trembling slightly. “i think i want… maybe another.”

he smiles faintly, satisfied, but not smug. it’s the kind of smile that tells you he’s been confident all along, that he knew exactly what would happen. his hands return to your face, fingers gentle, thumbs brushing softly. “good,” he murmurs. “then it’s decided.”

he leans forward, pressing his forehead against yours, letting the intimacy linger. you feel the warmth of him, the dominance in his presence, the certainty in every motion. it’s not aggressive. it’s patient, commanding, and deliberate.

his lips trail a slow, soft kiss along your temple, then to your cheek, then to your jaw, teasing just enough to make your stomach twist and your heart race. “i’ll take care of everything,” he whispers, his voice low and intimate. “you just… stay with me. let me handle it.”

you nod, breathless, letting him take the lead. you feel safe, and desired. certain of the future he’s quietly building for both of you.

his hands slide down to your waist, pulling you flush against him. guiding you without pushing, letting the tension simmer. you press back instinctively, and he hums softly, approvingly, brushing his lips against your temple again. “that’s it,” he murmurs. “you feel it too, don’t you?”

you can’t deny it. you really want this. you’ve wanted it all along, even if you couldn’t admit it to yourself. and now, with him, with his certainty and his leadership that doesn’t crush but steadies, you finally can.

he holds you close, forehead to forehead, chest against chest, letting you feel the full weight of his presence. every breath you take matches his. every heartbeat echoes his confidence. the tension simmers between you, slow and deliberate, a promise and a prelude all at once.

and as he whispers again, soft, low, almost a growl that makes your knees weak, “then we’ll do it. one more. and i’ll make sure it’s perfect,” you finally believe it.

you believe him.

you trust him.

and you know, without question, that you want it too.

AN: not proud of this but, heres softie sukuna to make up for all the stress reader has been put through..

TAGLIST: @pookiei-bookie @needpeacenquiet @douxdolly @sukunaspretzel @cinnam0ngirlxo @crybabyrizz @dollienanaaa @cindosblog @makiaiaiki @ratedrrrr @3nvieee @asimpinamillion @ilovemyginneapig @juiceeypeach @juliarchiv3s @duckie3801 @succu-baes @b43ek @nnaa-bba @magicalpeenpoo @xunquish-blog @thejujvtsupost @mad-katsuki @cookispark @what-the-jams @omicore @jiyuu-zou @livviaaaaa @frickpickle @kayla0911 @tojisgothiccbaby @laur4a @loverofdrewstarkey @hollydoomedshiplover @reyna-notbeomgyu @k1tys1tee @bakugosbottombitch @allmyn1ghts @luvs-angel @madibookmarks @angelbabymimi @saikixnini @nninit @pearlwuei @soob-missive @hyocee @waltzinthe19s @b-bitter @seanori @aryasasas

©2026 whasabi all rights reserved.

[whasabi]

streamer!toji whose chat watches him get distracted the second you walk in… ending his five hour stream early because you were done waiting.

the room was lit almost entirely by the glow of toji’s monitor.

soft blue light washed over the desk, the keyboard, the sharp line of his jaw as he leaned back in his chair with a headset over his ears. the rest of the apartment felt dim and quiet in comparison, like everything existed somewhere behind the constant noise of his stream.

five hours.

you knew because the small timer in the corner of the screen kept ticking upward. three hours had turned into four. four had turned into five. and somehow he was still going.

toji barely moved except to shift his mouse or tap a few keys, long fingers moving lazily across the keyboard while his eyes stayed locked on the screen. every now and then he spoke into the mic, voice low and casual, the kind of voice that made his viewers spam the chat with messages the second he said anything.

“you guys see that?” he muttered, a faint smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. “too easy.” the chat exploded across the monitor.

you stood near the doorway, arms loosely folded, watching him.

“toji.” he didn’t respond. you stepped a little closer. “toji.”

“mm.” he barely glanced away from the screen. “gimme a few minutes, baby.”

a few minutes.

you waited.

you tried sitting beside him on the couch, you tried resting your hand on his shoulder, you even stood directly beside his chair at one point. every time he gave you the same distracted response.

“almost done.” but the stream kept going. another round started. another conversation with chat. another donation popped up that made him laugh quietly under his breath. by the time the timer passed five hours, your patience had worn thin.

fine.

if he wanted to ignore you, you’d just have to fix that. you disappeared into the bedroom.

a few minutes later you stepped back into the living room wearing a thin tank top and the shortest pair of shorts you owned. the fabric clung lightly to your chest without anything underneath, and the shorts rode high on your hips, barely covering the curve of your ass.

toji was still focused on the game, still talking to chat. still oblivious. you walked casually across the room like nothing was different, pausing near the coffee table as if you were looking for something.

“chat, hold on—”

you bent down. just slightly. an innocent reach toward the floor. behind you, the clicking of the mouse stopped. completely.

for a second there was nothing but the quiet hum of the computer. you straightened slowly and glanced over your shoulder. toji was staring, not at the screen. at you.

his brows were pulled together like something had just short-circuited in his brain. his gaze dropped for a moment, dragged slowly down your legs, and then snapped back up again like he was trying very hard to act normal.

the chat started flying across the monitor.

??

why did bro go quiet

toji hello??

BRO WHAT HAPPENED

you blinked at him, expression perfectly innocent.

“did you see where i put my—”

toji cleared his throat.

hard.

he leaned back toward the microphone, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck like he suddenly didn’t know what to do with himself. “alright chat,” he said slowly. the messages started coming even faster.

WHO WALKED IN

THAT WAS HIS GIRL

LOOK AT HIS FACE 💀

MAN IS GONE

toji stared straight at the monitor like it had personally betrayed him.

“yeah,” he muttered. “i’m gonna—uh…”

his jaw tightened. you noticed the way he shifted slightly in his chair. then he sighed.

“i gotta dip, y’all.”

the chat absolutely lost it.

NO WAY

ALREADY?

BRO GOT DISTRACTED

SHES DEFINITELY GETTING IT

RIP STREAM

toji pinched the bridge of his nose, already looking tired of them. “my girl needs help with something,” he said flatly. more messages flooded in. he didn’t even bother reading them this time. with one quick movement he ended the stream. the room went quiet.

no donations, no voices, just the soft whir of the computer fan. slowly, toji turned his chair toward you. his eyes moved over you again, slower this time, lingering in a way that made the air feel heavier. “you done?” he asked.

you tilted your head. “done with what?”

he stood up.

toji was big even when he was sitting, but standing made the difference obvious. broad shoulders, tall frame, the kind of presence that filled the room without him even trying. he walked over until he was right in front of you.

“five hours,” he said.

you crossed your arms. “you said a few minutes.”

his mouth twitched. for a second he just looked at you like he was debating something. then he huffed out a quiet laugh and reached forward, pulling you closer by the waist.

“next time,” he muttered, voice rough with amusement, “just say you want my attention.”

you smiled sweetly.

because clearly—

you definitely had it now.

[whasabi]

WE (me) LOVEEEE ANGST PAPAKUNA

ill put that into consideration

[whasabi]

WE all love angst papakuna and u ❤️❤️❤️

i love you 2

[whasabi]

YOUR THEME IS SO FIRE WHAT RHE HELL like the EDITING AND THE TEXT and EVERYTHING AGHHH ITS SO GORGEOUS!! i can tell you really put effort into it omg

ahhh omg tysm 🫶🫶 i love u sm for this !

[whasabi]

you thought you were done having kids, papa!kuna thinks otherwise.

you say it lightly, almost like a joke, “one is enough. our son was already chaotic enough.”

he doesn’t move. he doesn’t even blink. he just watches you, silent and calm. the quiet between you feels heavy, like the air itself is holding its breath, waiting for him to decide something.

you notice the way his gaze lingers a second too long, the way his jaw tightens ever so slightly, like he’s thinking and planning all at once. it’s not anger. it’s control, it’s certainty, and it makes your pulse spike in a way that leaves you unsteady.

he steps closer without a word, and suddenly the space between you shrinks. his presence fills the room. you can feel the warmth radiating from him, the subtle power in the way he moves, the way he doesn’t rush but doesn’t hesitate either.

his hand finds yours and grips it firmly. not harshly, but enough that you feel the weight of his attention. he guides you to sit beside him, and when his other hand tilts your chin up, your eyes lock on his. you try to look away, and fail. the pull of him is magnetic, impossible to resist.

“no. we’re not done,” he says, his voice quiet but certain, steady like stone. it’s not a question, it’s not a negotiation. it’s a declaration.

you try to laugh it off, attempting casual, “i don’t know… maybe—”

“stop hiding,” he interrupts, low and firm, but not cruel. there’s authority in his voice, a dominance that doesn’t shout but bends the space around it. “tell me what you want.”

your stomach twists. your heartbeat feels too loud in your chest. the tension in his proximity, in his hands on you, in the way his gaze pins you in place, makes it impossible to breathe normally. you feel exposed, and yet… strangely safe.

he leans closer, just enough that you feel the warmth of his chest brushing against your shoulder. you notice how deliberately slow his movements are, how carefully he reads your reactions, how he doesn’t take control of the moment all at once. he guides you, pulls you in, and leaves space for you to follow.

his voice drops another notch, intimate, almost a whisper: “you don’t have to think about it. i will.”

you can’t help the small shiver that runs through you. you try to avert your eyes, and he tilts your chin up again, catching your gaze and holding it. the way he looks at you, patient but insistent, dominant but calm, makes your knees feel weak.

“i... i think… maybe…” you manage, voice quiet and uncertain.

he leans even closer, just close enough that you feel the heat of him, the subtle brush of his lips near your ear, and it sends an unexpected thrill through you. he doesn’t touch more than needed, doesn’t rush, but the proximity, the tension, it’s almost unbearable.

he tilts his head slightly, eyes never leaving yours. there’s approval there, quiet and commanding, the kind that makes your chest ache with both anticipation and relief. he has been waiting for this moment all along. you feel it in every measured movement, every deliberate pause.

his hands slide from your face to your neck, thumbs tracing the curve of your jaw as if memorizing it. you breathe unevenly, caught between wanting to pull back and wanting to lean in closer. he notices and tightens his grip subtly, just enough to remind you that he’s in control, but still giving you the choice to stay.

“then it’s settled,” he says softly, low, his lips brushing the side of your temple as he speaks. “one more. i’ll handle the rest.”

you lean into him, letting yourself sink against the weight of his certainty. your fingers lace with his, holding on because it feels right, because it feels inevitable. your mind is spinning, heart racing, body tingling from the way he has claimed this moment without forcing it.

he moves his lips to your ear now, hot breath sending a wave of heat down your spine. “don’t even think about saying no,” he murmurs, dominant but not cruel, teasing and deliberate. “you know what you want. i know what you want. stop pretending otherwise.”

your cheeks flush, both from the intimacy and the subtle tension in his tone. your hands rest on his chest, feeling the steady beat of him, the way he doesn’t rush, the way every movement, every word, draws you closer.

he slides one hand from your jaw to your shoulder, brushing the edge of your shirt. you catch yourself shivering, and he notices, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “there,” he says softly, voice low, “you’re reacting. you want this too. stop hiding it from me.”

he leans back slightly, just enough to let you breathe, and his eyes never leave yours. the room is quiet except for your breathing, your heart, and the subtle heat between you. you want to speak, to confirm, to deny, but his presence alone is enough to make the words come out.

“i… i think i do,” you admit finally, voice trembling slightly. “i think i want… maybe another.”

he smiles faintly, satisfied, but not smug. it’s the kind of smile that tells you he’s been confident all along, that he knew exactly what would happen. his hands return to your face, fingers gentle, thumbs brushing softly. “good,” he murmurs. “then it’s decided.”

he leans forward, pressing his forehead against yours, letting the intimacy linger. you feel the warmth of him, the dominance in his presence, the certainty in every motion. it’s not aggressive. it’s patient, commanding, and deliberate.

his lips trail a slow, soft kiss along your temple, then to your cheek, then to your jaw, teasing just enough to make your stomach twist and your heart race. “i’ll take care of everything,” he whispers, his voice low and intimate. “you just… stay with me. let me handle it.”

you nod, breathless, letting him take the lead. you feel safe, and desired. certain of the future he’s quietly building for both of you.

his hands slide down to your waist, pulling you flush against him. guiding you without pushing, letting the tension simmer. you press back instinctively, and he hums softly, approvingly, brushing his lips against your temple again. “that’s it,” he murmurs. “you feel it too, don’t you?”

you can’t deny it. you really want this. you’ve wanted it all along, even if you couldn’t admit it to yourself. and now, with him, with his certainty and his leadership that doesn’t crush but steadies, you finally can.

he holds you close, forehead to forehead, chest against chest, letting you feel the full weight of his presence. every breath you take matches his. every heartbeat echoes his confidence. the tension simmers between you, slow and deliberate, a promise and a prelude all at once.

and as he whispers again, soft, low, almost a growl that makes your knees weak, “then we’ll do it. one more. and i’ll make sure it’s perfect,” you finally believe it.

you believe him.

you trust him.

and you know, without question, that you want it too.

AN: not proud of this but, heres softie sukuna to make up for all the stress reader has been put through..

TAGLIST: @pookiei-bookie @needpeacenquiet @douxdolly @sukunaspretzel @cinnam0ngirlxo @crybabyrizz @dollienanaaa @cindosblog @makiaiaiki @ratedrrrr @3nvieee @asimpinamillion @ilovemyginneapig @juiceeypeach @juliarchiv3s @duckie3801 @succu-baes @b43ek @nnaa-bba @magicalpeenpoo @xunquish-blog @thejujvtsupost @mad-katsuki @cookispark @what-the-jams @omicore @jiyuu-zou @livviaaaaa @frickpickle @kayla0911 @tojisgothiccbaby @laur4a @loverofdrewstarkey @hollydoomedshiplover @reyna-notbeomgyu @k1tys1tee @bakugosbottombitch @allmyn1ghts @luvs-angel @madibookmarks @angelbabymimi @saikixnini @nninit @pearlwuei @soob-missive @hyocee @waltzinthe19s @b-bitter @seanori @aryasasas

©2026 whasabi all rights reserved.

[whasabi]

papakuna and reader deserve more kids.. what do we think chat

ask, and you shall receive

[whasabi]

how do yall feel about angsty papakuna

[whasabi]

i love your sukuna fics

well that's crazy because I love your professor sukuna fic

[whasabi]

I have a papakuna fic ready to be posted but I don't rlly like it 🫠

[whasabi]

papa!kuna leaves you alone at parent night for five minutes and comes back to shut something down instantly.

the hallway outside the classroom is louder than you expected. not chaotic, not overwhelming, just full in a way that makes everything feel closer together. voices overlap in low conversation, parents introducing themselves, teachers greeting people at the door, the faint scrape of chairs from inside the room as people settle in early. it’s normal, completely ordinary, the kind of environment you move through without thinking twice.

beside you, sukuna feels like the opposite of that.

he stands just slightly behind your shoulder, hands tucked into his pockets, posture relaxed in a way that only makes him look more imposing. he hasn’t said much since you parked, just a quiet exhale here and there, the subtle shift of someone tolerating a situation rather than participating in it. his presence draws your awareness even when he’s silent, like the space adjusts around him without permission.

you glance back at him, adjusting the folder in your hands.

“it’s just a parent night,” you say, softer this time, like saying it gently might make it easier for him to accept. “it’s gonna be fine.”

his gaze flicks from the classroom door to you, unimpressed, unreadable.

“i’m not worried.”

it comes out flat. like the idea of him being worried is almost insulting. you hum under your breath, not arguing, just reaching for the door and pushing it open.

“right.”

he follows when you step inside, and the shift is almost immediate.

not dramatic—no one stops talking, no one stares outright, but there’s a subtle change in the air. a few heads turn, quick glances that linger a second too long before sliding away. conversations dip just slightly, not enough to draw attention, but enough to feel. it happens in small waves, like people noticing something out of place without wanting to acknowledge it.

you don’t react. you’re used to it by now.

sukuna notices anyway.

you feel it in the way his gaze moves, slow and deliberate as it drags across the room, taking everything in without needing to focus on anything for long. parents sitting in small groups, a teacher organizing papers near the front, a couple of people whispering just a little quieter than before. his expression doesn’t change, but there’s a sharpened awareness in his eyes, something quiet and assessing.

he leans slightly closer to you, voice low enough that it stays between you.

“why are they staring.”

you bite back a smile, keeping your tone light.

“they’re not staring.”

he looks at you like you’ve said something objectively incorrect.

“they are,” he says, quieter now, like he’s working it out in real time. his gaze flicks briefly toward someone across the room before returning to you. “is it the hair?”

you glance up at him, and this time you can’t help the small laugh that slips out.

“yeah,” you nod, playing into it easily. “definitely the hair.”

his eyes narrow just slightly, like he knows you’re brushing it off but isn’t sure if it’s worth pushing. after a second, he exhales through his nose, dismissing it, and lets you guide him further into the room.

you find two open seats near the middle. not too close to the front where everything feels too focused, but not far enough back to feel disconnected—and sit down, placing your things neatly in your lap. sukuna lowers himself into the chair beside you, the movement controlled but heavy enough that it draws a brief glance from someone nearby. his legs stretch out instinctively before he pulls them back in slightly, adjusting to the cramped space of a classroom desk that clearly wasn’t designed with him in mind.

he looks out of place.

not in a way that’s loud or disruptive, but in the way something too large, too contained, doesn’t quite fit into a structured environment like this. like he belongs somewhere less restricted, less… ordinary.

you smooth your hands over your lap, glancing toward the front where the teacher continues setting up.

“see?” you murmur quietly. “not so bad.”

he doesn’t answer right away. his gaze drifts lazily across the room again, slower this time, like he’s cataloging things out of habit.

“we’ll see,” he says eventually.

a few minutes pass like that, the room gradually filling, conversations settling into a steady hum. then, beside you, sukuna shifts. the movement is subtle but deliberate, and before you can ask, he’s already pushing himself up from the chair.

“i’ll be back.”

you glance up at him. “bathroom?”

he gives a small, noncommittal hum and heads toward the door without waiting for anything else.

you watch him go for a second, the way people instinctively move just slightly out of his path without realizing it, before turning your attention back to the front. it’s easier to settle without him beside you, the space feeling lighter, more in line with everything around you.

for a moment, it’s normal.

then-

“first time here?”

the voice comes from your side, close enough to pull your attention immediately. you turn slightly to see a man sliding into the now-empty seat beside you, offering a small, easy smile that feels practiced.

“yeah,” you nod politely. “first time.”

“same,” he says, leaning back just enough to look relaxed. “guess they’re trying something new this year.”

you hum in agreement, keeping your tone light but neutral. it’s a normal conversation, harmless on the surface, the kind of small talk that happens in spaces like this.

“your kid in this class too?” he asks.

“yeah.”

“nice,” he nods, glancing toward the front before looking back at you. “mine too. small world.”

you offer a small smile, but your answers stay short, contained. there’s nothing overtly wrong with the interaction, nothing you can point to and say it crosses a line, but there’s a shift in his tone, a slight warmth that feels just a bit too familiar for a stranger. the way he lingers in conversation, the way his body angles a little more toward you, like he’s trying to hold your attention. you shift slightly in your seat, hoping it signals enough.

it doesn’t.

“so, do you-”

“is there a reason you’re sitting here.”

the voice cuts in cleanly.

low, controlled in a way that doesn’t need volume to carry weight.

you don’t have to turn to know sukuna is back.

the man beside you stills immediately, the shift in his posture almost instant as he turns slightly toward the voice. sukuna stands just behind your chair, one hand resting loosely against the back of it, his gaze fixed on him with a quiet intensity that presses without raising.

“oh- i was just-” the man starts, a little too quick now, a little less confident.

sukuna tilts his head slightly, like he’s considering the answer before it’s even finished.

“just what.”

it’s calm. almost neutral. but there’s something under it, something that doesn’t need to rise to be felt.

the man lets out a small, awkward laugh, shifting in his seat.

“just talking. didn’t mean anything by it.”

“clearly.”

the word lands flat, unimpressed. sukuna’s gaze doesn’t waver, doesn’t soften, just holds steady long enough for the silence to stretch in a way that feels heavier than it should in a room like this.

you can feel it settle.

the man definitely does.

“i-uh, i think i see someone i know,” he says suddenly, already pushing himself up from the chair. “nice talking to you.”

he doesn’t wait for a response. just moves quickly, slipping into the crowd of other parents with a little too much urgency.

the space beside you feels noticeably quieter.

sukuna watches him go for a moment longer before pulling his hand back and lowering himself into the seat beside you like nothing happened. his posture relaxes again, one arm resting loosely against the back of your chair now, claiming the space without drawing attention to it.

he glances at you, expression unchanged.

“why’d he run off like that?” he says, tone dry. “thought i was being nice.”

you stare at him for a second, then let out a soft laugh, shaking your head slightly.

“it’s probably the pink hair.”

there’s a brief pause.

then, just barely, the corner of his mouth lifts.

not quite a smile.

but close enough.

more papa!kuna here

©2026 whasabi all rights reserved.

series taglist: open

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[whasabi]

im having writers block what the flip

[whasabi]

this is me glazing for more papa!kuna its actually so good! im loving it and its bringing me joy and warming my cold icy writers block

- 🍪

awe this is so sweet im glad u enjoy it !!