Dogs Out. Zenin Toji

ino is hopeless.

nanami knows it. anyone with half a brain could see it—except for ino himself, apparently.

it starts subtly. little things that nanami catches because he’s perceptive, because it’s in his nature to notice details others overlook. at first, it’s harmless: ino’s eyes lingering on you for a beat too long when you speak, the way he straightens up whenever you enter a room, how he suddenly remembers the most trivial of errands whenever you’re around—just so he has an excuse to stay a little longer.

nanami finds it mildly amusing. he’s well aware of how attractive you are, how effortlessly charming, even without trying. it’s only natural that someone like ino, young and overeager, would fall for you.

but then, it escalates.

one evening, you drop by jujutsu high, bringing nanami a homemade meal because you know he’s been too busy to eat properly. you show up in casual clothes—just a simple, fitted sweater and jeans—but the way ino reacts, you’d think you walked in wearing a red carpet gown.

he visibly stiffens when you greet him, gives you a stammered “hey” that’s painfully awkward. nanami, who’s been flipping through reports at his desk, glances up just in time to see the way ino’s gaze flickers down your body before he forces himself to look away.

ah. so that’s where this is going.

ino is crushing, sure, but there’s something else now—something more desperate, more embarrassing. nanami recognizes it instantly, and this time, he does smirk. just a little.

ino, poor fool that he is, doesn’t realize nanami has noticed.

“kento,” you sigh, walking past ino like he isn’t even there. you set the bento box on nanami’s desk, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to his temple. “you really need to stop skipping meals.”

nanami catches the way ino’s mouth parts slightly, like the air’s been knocked out of him.

“thank you,” nanami says, calmly, like he hasn’t just witnessed his protégé mentally combust.

“it’s nothing,” you hum, straightening up. “besides, if you keep working late, i’ll just have to start showing up every night.”

ino makes a strangled noise. nanami takes a sip of his coffee, unbothered.

—

later, nanami watches as ino struggles to focus during a sparring session.

it’s bad. the kid’s already a mess under normal circumstances, but today, he’s downright sloppy. his stance is off, his movements sluggish, his strikes lacking any real force. nanami doesn’t have to guess why.

he sees it in the way ino flinches when you walk past the training hall, his shoulders tensing like he’s physically holding himself back from looking. but his restraint only lasts a second—his gaze flickers toward you anyway, like a moth drawn to a flame.

it’s pathetic.

nanami doesn’t even need to move much to dodge the sloppy punch ino throws next, sidestepping effortlessly. ino tries to recover, shifting his weight, but nanami can already tell he’s not putting his full strength into it. he’s distracted, his mind clearly elsewhere.

“you’re unfocused,” nanami states plainly, effortlessly blocking another weak attempt at a strike.

ino exhales sharply, shaking out his arms like that’ll somehow fix his obvious lack of composure. “just—just tired, that’s all,” he says, forcing a weak chuckle.

nanami stares at him, unimpressed.

“tired,” he repeats, tone dry.

ino nods, a little too eagerly. “yeah. long night.”

nanami doesn’t comment. he doesn’t need to. he’s known ino long enough to recognize his poor attempts at deflection. besides, nanami doesn’t have to say anything—not when ino completely exposes himself a second later.

because just as nanami steps forward to counter, you laugh at something in the hallway.

it’s not even loud. just a soft, amused sound, barely audible over the rhythmic thuds of sparring in the dojo. but ino hears it. worse, he reacts to it.

his body goes stiff, his focus snapping completely. nanami sees the exact moment his mind short-circuits—his fists unclenching, his stance faltering, his attention slipping from the fight entirely.

and so, nanami does what any good mentor would do.

he knocks ino flat on his ass.

“fuck,” ino groans, wheezing as he stares up at the ceiling.

nanami looms over him, arms crossed.

“if a simple distraction is enough to take you down, you won’t last long in the field,” nanami remarks coolly.

ino groans again, rubbing his face. “that wasn’t—i didn’t—”

nanami tilts his head. “if you’re tired, you should be able to focus through it,” he continues, watching as ino freezes. “unless, of course, something else is affecting your concentration.”

there it is. the telltale flicker of panic in ino’s eyes.

instead of pressing the issue further, he simply offers a hand. ino stares at it like he expects a follow-up attack, before reluctantly grasping it and letting nanami pull him to his feet.

“let’s go again.” nanami says, adjusting his sleeves.

ino exhales heavily. he nods, but nanami doesn’t miss the way his eyes flicker toward the door one last time.

instead of stopping him, nanami lets him suffer through his own turmoil.

—

by the time ino realizes he never had a chance, it’s almost pathetic.

you show up one evening, like always, but this time, you don’t just drape yourself over nanami’s shoulders—you practically melt into him, sighing contentedly as he rests a hand on your hip.

ino looks like he’s about five seconds away from passing out.

it’s honestly impressive—nanami has seen the kid go up against curses twice his level, take hits that should’ve knocked him out cold, but nothing has shaken him quite like this.

the moment you walk in, all warmth and ease as you slide into nanami’s space, ino tenses. nanami doesn’t miss the way his gaze flickers to where your hand rests on his shoulder, fingers curling against the fabric of his suit.

“kento,” you murmur, leaning down just enough that your breath brushes against his ear. “let’s go home.”

nanami hums, his grip on your waist firm as he turns his head slightly, his nose grazing yours before he kisses you—slow and deliberate.

you sigh into it, and nanami uses the moment to deepen the kiss, letting his hand drift lower, just enough to make a point.

when he finally pulls away, he opens his eyes and—ah, there it is.

ino looks wrecked. eyes wide, mouth slightly open, standing there like a man who’s just watched his last shred of hope crumble to dust.

nanami meets his gaze, calm as ever, but there’s something sharp in his expression—something that makes ino straighten up like a scolded dog.

it’s not a threat. not really. nanami doesn’t need to threaten him.

it’s just a simple fact.

you’re his.

and ino? well, ino never had a chance.

—> part two(nsfw).

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ it’s a beautiful day to save lives ft, satoru gojo

💌 neurosurgeon!gojo headcanons | smut mdni

neurosurgeon!gojo who you meet in a bar on the night before your first day at your new job. you didn’t intend to get as drunk as you did, and you didn’t intend to kiss this really cute guy at the bar, but you more than definitely didn’t intend to bring him back to your apartment

“oh- fuck.”, you whine as he continues pounding into you, his hand wrapped around your neck with the other roughly grabbing onto the plush of your hips. his brows furrowed as he chases both of your highs with his own faint whimpers, his movements just so perfectly hitting your g-spot as you wrap your legs around his waist and throwing your head back because of pure euphoria he was giving you

neurosurgeon!gojo who wakes up in your bed the next morning after you just shook his peacefully sleeping figure awake

“so yeah, you need to leave.”, was the only thing he managed to clock onto after rambling something about being late for your first day of work while he was still figuring out where he was for a second. he thinks you’re cute, though, he’s never had a girl rush to get him out her bed the morning after.

neurosurgeon!gojo who eventually leaves, thinking that was it and you’d never see this ridiculously attractive stranger again

neurosurgeon!gojo who is described as a genius on your first day at work as a surgical intern, as one of the best surgeons in the country, even going as far to say the world. you were so excited to meet and potentially work with him with your interest in neurosurgery, even hoping to specialise in it

neurosurgeon!gojo who makes some time in his busy schedule to talk to all the new surgical inters as head of neurosurgery and give some insight and advice

neurosurgeon!gojo who sees you as he’s talking, getting caught on his words which go unnoticed by absolutely no one as you shrink down in embarrassment, praying he wouldn’t notice you

“oh my god, do you know the dr. gojo?”, one of your fellow interns ask as you feel your face heat up in embarrassment, shaking your head and pretending like you’ve never seen this man, when the night before he was eight inches deep inside you

neurosurgeon!gojo who pulls you to the side with a cheeky grin on his face as he mentions the night before while you stand there awkwardly, you really hoped this wouldn’t affect your job now

neurosurgeon!gojo who shamelessly asks you out to dinner, only to be met with your furrowed brows and stern voice telling him that it was inappropriate. he was basically your boss, who was several years older than you. not to mention that you’d both literally get fired if anyone was to find out

neurosurgeon!gojo who takes your rejection as a game, flirting with you shamelessly any chance he got despite the eye rolls and heavy sighs you meet him with

neurosurgeon!gojo who chases you for the next month, even letting you assist in his surgeries after finding out how interested in neurosurgery you were

neurosurgeon!gojo who you realise isn’t as bad as you originally thought, his cocky demeanour slipping every so often where you see a genuinely selfless and kind hearted man who simply wants to save lives

neurosurgeon!gojo who asks you out for a drink, one drink, he says, simply to celebrate a successful surgery on a case that had a 20% chance of survival after your assist with him

neurosurgeon!gojo who is so delightfully surprised when you say yes, his 30 days of chasing you finally moving in the direction he wanted, even if it was minimal

neurosurgeon!gojo who ends up buying you both multiple drinks, as you knew would happen, the both of you so giggly as you stumble out the bar together

neurosurgeon!gojo who decides to take his chances, the liquid courage hitting his head, and pulls you in slowly as he places a small and sweet kiss on your lips

neurosurgeon!gojo who apologises profusely once he sees your shocked reaction, thinking he’s just fucked up the good night you both were having together

neurosurgeon!gojo who is shut up by you, pulling him down on your level and roughly kissing him again, the previous worries you had before completely gone and the only thing on your mind was him, and the mind blowing sex he gave you the first night you met

“take me home?”, you ask as gojo catches on by the real meaning behind your words, smiling to himself as he nods with butterflies in his stomach. maybe his hard work flirting with you had finally paid off

© cinnamqnx | do not plagiarise or translate any of my work

max catstappen for ur consideration

can someone help me find this one fic😭 it was a nanami fic and he was readers’ neighbor. I remember the readers ac broke so she went for a swim at nanamis house????

“I drove the red car and I won, even if I'm leaving, Ferrari remains a dream that I wouldn't change for anything”

babydoll

frat!gojo x shy!fem reader !!

wc: 6.5k

part one ! part 2 ! part 3 !

part two in the works…

disclaimer !! slow burn, fluff, angst/comfort, yearning satoru, whipped satoru, satoru is just so enamoured with reader omg. follows the ‘was i just a bet?’ premise!! eventual smut (most likely). reader is implied to wear very cutesy kinds of clothings and enjoys very girly and feminine things !!

artist: thatsallitcheif on x!

“yo, toru. whatcha lookin at?”

standing so sweetly in line at jujutsu university’s student cafe, stood the most adorably breathtaking girl satoru swears he’d ever laid eyes on. looking up at the variety board of drinks with one adorable manicured nail tapping your chin, you shyly made your way up to the counter.

you we’re what he was staring at.

suguru nudged the white haired boys shoulder as they sat back on a bench, not far from the café’s store front. they lounged back with widespread legs, still dressed in their sweaty basketball jerseys.

“hey man, i’m talking to you.”

shaking his head trying to regather his thoughts, satoru half heartedly responded.

“yeah man that sounds good. whatever you wanna do.”

the purple eyed man let out an annoyed huff, “that’s not even— you know what? forget it.” used to his best friends frequent ditzy zone-outs, suguru knew it was best to just drop it and try his luck asking about what had him so enamoured later.

satoru paid no mind to it, still trailing his eyes over your frame as you seemed to stumble over your words when ordering whatever cute little iced drink he’s sure a sweet thing like you enjoyed. he wasn’t sure what had his eyes suddenly so drawn to you, a random campus girl he’d never seen in his life.

maybe it was the fact you had the whole, ‘girl next door’ thing down pat, or maybe how you looked like you owned fifty vintage Hollister sweaters, the real tight ones that showed off your body in that innocent kind of way. you were clad in just that, a grey one, paired with a cute skirt, some stockings and those leg warmers he always saw the cute girls on instagram wear.

very attractive, in his opinion.

he let out a deep breath through his lips as he watched you sip the straw of what looked to be an iced latte, your rosy pink gloss slightly staining the white paper. how could he see from so far away? no one really knew, satoru gojo was known for having real good eyes.

he was known for a lot, actually— his trust fund worth more than what it cost to build the prestigious university and then some, or his effortless charm that never failed to nudge pretty sorority girls into his bed.— but most of all, satoru gojo was most renowned throughout jujutsu for his insane ragers; the ones where the cops get called one way or another, and hundreds of drunken collage kids scramble in all directions out of his notorious frat, alpha phi. and sure, he was at uni for basketball like his buddy suguru, but satoru could ace any course this school had to offer, and that was the scariest thing about him, his sheer wit.

“suguru, d’you know that girl sitting over there, at the cafe? the one with the cute sweater.”

his friend raised his head from looking down at his phone to meet where satoru was pointing.

“ah, so that’s what you were looking at. glad i got my answer ten minutes fucking later, tsk.” suguru pocketed his phone and sat back against the bench, continuing.

“yeah i know her, the names y/n. she’s in my ethics class, a real cute one, huh? really quiet, always fiddling with her hair and shit, classical doll faced nerd.” he said pulling out a cigarette.

satoru nodded and hummed in response, still watching you from afar as you tapped at your phone, shyly tucked away at a table outside the cafe and under a big oak tree.

‘y/n…’

“what, you wanna talk to her or something? the whole shy and prude thing isn’t really your type, fuck boy. i’m almost certain a sweet thing like that doesn’t need a frat boy ruining her life, don’t cha think?” suguru chuckled with a now lit cigarette between his lips.

god, he was right. sure satoru had pretty much pictured your adorable little self in a long white wedding dress already—not sure why, since he never entertained the idea of getting married; especially not anytime soon—but the way you carried yourself, the way your sparkly little nails traced the lid of your cup as you looked down through your long, pretty lashes at whatever was on your phone had him completely entranced.

“jesus christ satoru. you look like a dog in heat staring daggers through her head like that.” the black haired man took a puff before continuing. “if you really want to, just go over and sweet talk her, get her number, fuck ‘er real good and get it outta your system.” suguru said nonchalantly.

satoru shivered a bit at the thought, like for once, just fucking someone and dipping was suddenly disgusting. for once he looked at someone he found attractive and instead of feeling the urge to rut inside and fulfil his desires, he felt a compulsion to care for and protect them. god what was he? a fucking dog? reluctantly, satoru sighed and stood up infront of the other male.

“nah man… you’re right, she’s just a bit too… ‘pure’ looking for someone like me. let’s get outta here, i need a drink.”

suguru chuckled as he clasped hands with his friend, satoru pulling him up from his seated position. “pretty girls like that deserve better than us, toru.” he only let out a breathy chuckle, knowing deep down he was very right, that he should just ignore the deep feeling of warmth inside his gut from when he was staring at you earlier.

~

later that night, now dressed in a black shirt and grey sweats (get my reference) paired with the classic fuck boy silver chain and jordan’s, satoru was sat on his frats couch, sipping the jungle juice him and nanami made earlier for tonight’s party.

bodies clashed on the makeshift dance floor as the smell of weed and booze hung heavy in the air. on any normal night, satoru would be in the middle of it all, dancing and making out with whatever sorority chick he chose for the evening, but now? he was moping alone at the edges of the crowd. his mind was hazy with a distant feeling of… dread? was he seriously feeling anxious in the one place he thrived the most?

he let out a sigh and stood up, downing his drink, trying to revoke some sort of ‘party satoru’ he knew was swimming somewhere inside him. but with each faked smile he plastered on his pretty face when greeting his fellow frat brothers with claps in the back, he felt himself growing more and more uneasy.

each thought swimming around in his head was full of one thing, and that was the cutie he saw at the cafe earlier today, ‘y/n.’

he repeated the name over and over again in his head. it was an adorable name, one fit for someone as sweet looking as you. what would she be doing right now? sleeping? studying? showering? his thoughts were interrupted when he heard the name he was just singing in his mind come from the familiar mouth of his friend, choso.

“y/n? who the hell is that?” suguru, choso, and yuuji were all standing around in a small semi cirlcle, drinks in hands as suguru was letting the alcohol talk for him.

“just this girl satoru couldn’t stop eye-fucking today.” he said slightly slurring his words.

satoru rolled his eyes and turned to join them. “what’s new? he’s always doing that.” said yuuji, earning a chuckle from choso. suguru also laughed before continuing.

“yeah, but this girl was different. she’s the sweet type, y’know? the ones that look so cute and untouched you feel bad for even lookin at em in that kinda way. ain’t that right satoru? poor guy didn’t even go up to her..”

the blue eyed man rolled his eyes. “tsk, so what i was staring? she was cute. and i didn’t want to sleep with her alright. just eye candy, that’s all.”

all three guys were inwardly confused. their party animal of a friend, the most confident ladies man they knew was getting all hung up over a quiet, shy girl he saw at a damn cafe? what the fuck?

choso tried to stifle a laugh. “you’re telling me you saw a girl you liked and didn’t fuck her? what’s wrong with you man, are you sick?” the small group laughed, and so did he. because they were right, not once had he not gotten what he wanted from a girl, but this time he held back.

why? why the hell didn’t he just go up to you and ask for your number? now he was stuck at this party he didn’t want to be at anymore getting harassed by his stupid friends. he was sucked out of his self pity when choso nudged his arm.

“gojo, five hundred dollars says you can’t fuck her by the end of june.” the brunette man said, taking a swig of his drink. before satoru could outright refuse, suguru jumped in. “raise that to one thousand. this guys not doing it.”

they were winding him up, and it was working. “you fuckers are so lost. but fuck it, whatever. two thousand dollars says that i can fuck her by the end of may.” it was currently march, so that meant two months to woo you.

god, he shouldn’t of shortened it. he shouldn't of said that at all! but what else could you do when your fuckass friends try brusing your ego?

suguru and satoru shook on it.

~

the first time you had ever seen satoru gojo was late one afternoon on campus, he had his tounge down a very pretty girls throat, one from your chemistry course. the girl was a tad bit bitchy but she never bothered you, so you just assumed it was her boyfriend and didn't think much of it.

oh were you wrong.

from then on out you had managed to catch the white haired male flirting, touching up on, and kissing four different girls on four different occasions throughout the collage grounds.

'oh, so he's a slut.'

you didn't have the brain space to think too much about the stupid frat guys that ran the school like teenagers with too much testosterone, so you never once thought of the guy again, chalking him up to just another fuck boy.

his friend suguru however? you weren't gonna lie, totally your type. he was in your ethics class and he knew his shit. he was tall, dark and handsome and god he looked like some guy out of a punk rock band. he was your little hallway crush, but you knew of his frisky behaviour being apart of a frat and all, so you only really payed attention to him when you needed something pretty to look at.

like right now, as suguru and the white haired guy you were yet to know the name of sat together squeezing water into their mouths from their water bottles after a basketball training session. they were both pretty guys.

you were walking from your physiology class to the library, shyly taking glances at the black haired male when he suddenly caught your eye. you quickly turned away and walked abit faster to your class, missing the way suguru nudged satoru's elbow with a grin.

"look, it's that girl we made bets on last week."

satorus head flew up to trace your retreating figure. 'god even from this far away she looks stunning.'

he had been searching for you around campus for almost a week straight, under the guides of 'scoping out some fresh meat.' he stood up almost as fast as his head rose and started jogging to catch up to you. god you were adorable, you were dressed in the cutesy style you always stuck to, walking so prettily as your shoes pitter pattered against the concrete. what the hell was he even gonna say when he got to you? he had no idea.

once he had caught up, not even slightly out of breath and still in his sweaty basket ball uniform. he slowed down and walked around beside you, clearing his throat as he stood off to the side but infront of you. he looked down to meet your eyes, and to say he was flabbergasted was an understatement.

shit, you looked even cuter up close. your big eyes and those fluttery lashes had him choked up, the way your hair framed your face, how your long sleeved shirt hugged your figure in all the right ways. he was speechless in your presence.

you were startled when the 6'4 jocked up guy you knew to be a notorious player suddenly approached you. he was towering over you, so much so that you caught a whiff of his heavenly cologne mixed with abit of his sweat.

gross? sure. hot? absolutely.

you assumed he was just trying to pass by so you also cleared your throat gently and picked up your pace, nodding politely in apology as you walked past him completely.

this made satoru panic. he stammered a bit before choking out an awkward "hey! wait up!"

you turned on your heel to see him still standing where he was, bashfully rubbing his neck as he looked away almost... shyly? what the hell?

you nervously played with the sleeves of your shirt that covered the better parts of your wrists, slowly rubbing your lips together as you looked up at him through long lashes. seriously this was getting weird, what did he want? this overly confident frat guy who was known for being rowdy and tuff was almost shying into himself as he stood infront of you.

"...yeah?.." your voice caught him a little off guard, it was silky smooth yet shy and unsure.

'very feminine', he thought.

'what the hell are you doing man... she looks like she'd rather be anywhere else but here standing next to someone like you.' he sighed and tried to push away his self deprecating thoughts. with a deep breath he stared back into your pretty little eyes and finally opened his mouth.

"you're uhm... your hair clip, it's pretty cool."

'her fucking hair clip? really satoru? the prettiest girl you've ever seen in your life is standing right infront of you and you chose to compliment her hair clip of all things?!'

he inwardly groaned, feeling more than embarrassed.

he was shoved out of his own head when he saw your cheeks dust an enticing pink as you fidgeted with the hem of your skirt. you looked so fucking good right now.

"oh, uh. thank you so much." you said with a small smile, trying to stay polite despite your immense discomfort at the moment. he nodded and coughed into a closed fist awkwardly.

'now what?!' since when did talking to pretty girls become this hard for him?! the two of you stood their staring at eachother stiffly, none of you sure what to say next. you were beyond confused, you were sure this was some stupid frat thing where they went up to random girls and tried poking fun at them.

"so uhm... your name is what? i mean- what's your name?" he mentally facepalmed at his idiocy, biting his lip as to not let anymore corny word vomit escape.

you brushed a strand of hair out of your face and blinked up at him, now noticing how ripped he was. each and every muscle on his visiable forearms were perfectly sculpted along with his sharp facial features and piercing eyes.

"it's y/n... and you?"

of course a sweet closeted thing like you didn't know his name. he was more-so famous around the greek scene, but nethertheless he felt his ego take a hit at the lack of knowledge. he looked you once over, trying his best to surprise the noise of appreciation for your absolute perfection from humming out of his throat.

"satoru. satoru gojo."

"uh, cool. did you... need something? from me?-"

"your number." he blurted it out almost a little too loud, immediately covering his mouth and flushing abit red. he cleared his throat and said it again. "could i have your number, please?" he readjusted himself, trying to regain abit of his confidence and act like he knew what he was doing, because he did, he'd done the whole flirting thing a million times for god sake! you were just making it abit difficult with that adorable confused look on your face.

you didn't fully process what he was saying, just that a guy way out of your social circle was trying to get your number, and you were gonna give it to him because you had absolutely no confidence to say no.

so, pulling out your phone encased in its cute pink cover and tons of dangly charms, you pulled up your number and showed it to him to copy down.

satoru, now composed and feeling abit more like his usual self, smiled at your shy gesture. he too took out his phone and quickly jotted down the number into a new contact, you watched him save it under 'n/n 💗' .

still flushed, you timidly watched as he pocketed his phone, turning his head to look back at where suguru was sat at the bench not far too far away.

"thanks, sweetheart. i'll text you later, yeah?"

he said it with more calm in his voice, a stark difference from how he first approached you. you nodded awkwardly and turned around to finally walk away. once you were a good distance away from satoru, you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. did that really happen? why the hell did he of all people want your number? you were getting a tiny bit scared he'd use his frat boy charm to get you into bed and then ditch you like it was any regular friday.

you tried pushing it down, opting to forget about the entire interaction. it would be better on your psyche.

satoru on the other hand, he was estatic. he practically skipped back to suguru with a big goofy smile on his face.

"i got it! man aren't i awesome!"

suguru just smirked and patted his back like a proud father.

"good job, man. now all you gotta do is actually get close enough to her that she'll let you in her pants. an easy 2000 dollars, right?" suguru said a tad condescending.

satoru sucked in a breath, oh yeah, the bet.

~

later that evening, you found yourself studying quietly in your cozy dormitory. it was clad with plushies of all shapes and sizes, a pink plush bed full of fluffy blankets and pillows, and a beautiful vintage style vanity off to one side. your books lay scatters over the soft rug beneath you, you sat beside your bed re-reading the notes taken today in chemistry. with your major being in the science feild, you had frequent nights like this; cramming knowledge inside your pretty little head like there was no tommorow.

you were distracted from the comfort of your blanket pile on the floor by a buzzing on your phone, situated on the vanity across the room.

sighing and standing up with a small groan, you grabbed it and plopped onto your comfy bed. opening up messages, you saw an unknown number pop up the top with another notification.

xxx xxx xxx xx : hey pretty girl

xxx xxx xxx xx : it's gojo

xxx xxx xxx xx : hope i didn't scare you off too badly today 😅

you found yourself getting flustered at the messages. sure you got hit on pretty much all the time, but coming from someone as popular as satoru had you quirking your brow due to the clique difference between the two of you.

the only other guy who was similar to satoru that had tried his luck with you was sukuna… and that was a shit show. a big frat guy with an even bigger ego mixed with a sweet girl like you was not a good partnership. safe to say you two ended after a few months of being him pushing you around like his own personal plaything.

the thought of being involved with another mean frat boy like that really did frighten you, you wanted to feel loved, not like a trophy to show off.

reading satoru’s messages once over again, you decided to not respond. sure he was kind of sweet today asking for your number all akward and bashful, complimenting the hair clip you took five minutes this morning trying to pick out; but deep down you knew you didn’t really want to give him your number. you were just too shy to say no. at least now you had a choice to talk to him or not, and you chose the latter. better to keep yourself safe.

before you could set your phone down, another influx of messages appeared.

xxx xxx xxx xx : read? looks like i did scare you off :(

xxx xxx xxx xx : i’m sorryyy i came off too brash didn’t i?

xxx xxx xxx xx : i was being such an akward loser today

xxx xxx xxx xx : please let me redeem myself 🙏🏻

you once again found yourself smiling, maybe responding just once wouldn’t hurt.

n/n 💗: hey, sorry for not responding earlier !!

n/n 💗: i was pretty swamped with course work 🙁

you clicked on his number and made him a contact before he responded.

gojo : oh hey!

gojo : no worries, glad you're working hard 🤝

on the other line, gojo was grinning like a madman at the thought of your nose stuck in a text book.

he was lazing in his room shirtless with a pair of black shorts, his signature thin silver chain dangling from his neck. his room was dimly lit with posters of all the bands he loved plastered on the wall, what a perfect opportunity for a photo. smirking to himself he snapped a photo of his shirtless top half with a big smile on his face, clearly showing off his beautifully sculpted chest.

gojo : [Attachment 1 image] for my contact photo ;)

you did a double take at the photo, clicking into it and zooming in to make sure you were seeing what you thought you were seeing. you weren't normally the type to get all hot and bothered over guys, but shit, he was hot. you shook your head and saved the photo, making it his contact photo since you really didn't have anything else to set it as. your phone dinged again.

gojo : so? where's mine? can't have your photo blank now can we?

you bit your lip nervously. sure you put a lot into your appearance and knew a lot of people thought you were 'absolutely adorable', but you weren't really convinced yourself, so taking selfies wasn't something you were used to.

regardless, you found yourself putting on a small smile and snapping a picture of your pretty face. giving it a once over you hovered over the send button. why did you care about what this guy thought of you anyways? weren't you the one who was just lecturing yourself about not getting involved with another guy like sakuna? you huffed and sent the picture trying not to think too hardly of it.

n/n 💗 : [Attachment 1 image]

gojo : wowza 🤯

gojo : you're fucking stunning 😍😍

on the other line, satoru could feel his blood rushing south at the photo you sent, it was innocent and oh so adorable. everything about your features made his heart feel woozy. after staring for a good five minutes, analysing each and every aspect of your face and what he could see in the background, he set it as your contact, smiling to himself.

n/n 💗: thank you

he chuckled at the some what dry response. he could tell you weren't very comfortable and he desperately wanted to change that.

gojo : hey, so i was thinking... you seem really cool to hang with, we should totally go out some time, yeah?

he hit send quickly so he wouldn't overthink it too much. he watched his screen a bit worriedly. he wasn't sure how you'd respond to that after only just meeting him today, but it's the best he had under his belt. satoru was strictly a hook-ups-only kind of guy, going on dates was foreign for him, but for you, he would.

he saw you read the text and type out a reply, delete it, then type out another.

n/n 💗 : thank you for the offer ! i'm sorry if this sounds abit rude, but we kind of just met today... and you suddenly want to hang out with me of all people?

n/n 💗 : is this like, a prank or something like that?

gojo cringed at himself for making you feel like he was trying to hang out with you for ulterior motives -which he kind of was considering the bet- but it was more than that, he genuinely did think you were cute and wanted to get to know you.

gojo : what? no! i just thought you were really cute, that's all. if you don’t feel comfortable hanging out i totally get it!

he anxiously watched as you read his message, fiddling with the sheets beneath him.

you did feel bad, really you did. and god knows you're way too shy to outwardly reject anyone. so, you let out a sigh and decided to humour him.

n/n 💗 : no, no! it's fine don't worry, we can hang out.

with all his anxiety dissipating, gojo let out a breath and quickly typed out a reply.

gojo : awesomee how does tomorrow for coffee at lunch sound? my shout, ofcourse.

n/n 💗 : okay!

gojo : sweet, i'll meet you outside the cafe at 12, see you then sweetheart ;)

~

the next day came faster than you'd expected. your fingers toyed nervously with the zipper of your off shoulder jacket as you stood beneath the awning of the student cafe, you were standing off to one corner trying not to stand out too much as your eyes scanned the crowd for that unmistakable shock of white hair.

your mind was still reeling, you believe you’d said yes to him. the rational voice in your head had spent the entire morning trying to talk you out of it, replaying memories of the only boyfriend you’d ever had being a frat boy. sukuna.

but here you were—waiting for gojo. the satoru gojo.

he showed up exactly at 12:03, He strolled toward you like he owned the pavement, hands shoved into the pockets of his grey sweats, his messy white hair tucked under a backwards baseball cap. He wasn’t wearing his usual frat-boy grin—instead, his eyes flicked over you, softening as he approached, his lips curving into something almost bashful. maybe the frat thing didn’t look so bad on him. maybe.

“hey, sweetheart,” he said, voice light but laced with a note of something softer, something real. “hope you weren’t waiting too long.”

you shook your head, smiling shyly up at him. “just got here.”

you weren’t used to towering boys like satoru opening doors for you, but he did, motioning for you to walk in first. surprisingly gentlemanly. the café was warm, the windows fogged with spring condensation, the air filled with the soft hiss of the espresso machine. once you’d sat outside under the same oak tree he’d first seen you under, surprisingly, satoru stayed mostly quiet. he wasn’t bombarding you with charm or flirting overkill like you expected. instead, he seemed… careful. like he didn’t want to scare you off.

he glanced at the menu, but looked back at you quickly. “tell me what you’re having so i can grab it. i promised i’d pay, remember?”

your lips parted slightly in surprise—no cocky comment, no flirtatious undertone. you told him your order, voice soft, and he nodded like it was the most important thing in the world, striding to the counter with ease. you watched him exchange a joke with the barista, his laugh echoing warmly through the small space. he really was effortlessly charming, you had to admit that.

you shyly bit your lip as you replayed the whole situation you were in right now. you had to tell your best friend yuki all about this later.

he returned with two drinks—your regular iced latte and something caramel-colored for himself—and two pastries. “didn’t know what you liked, so i got a cinnamon swirl. it looked like something a girl as cute as you might like,” he teased gently.

you smiled, biting back a laugh. “thanks a bunch, i like cinnamon.”

“see?” he leaned back in his seat with a smug little grin, sipping his drink. “i’m good at this.”

it was awkward at first. you weren’t sure where to look—his face, the window, the table?—but he made it easier than you’d expected. he asked about your major, why you chose it. he didn’t interrupt. he didn’t make jokes at your expense. when you mentioned how much you liked microbiology, instead of zoning out, he asked, “that’s the one with the cute little organisms, right? like, the blob guys?”

you giggled, making his cheeks flush slightly pink at the sound. “kind of, yeah.”

he grinned wide, pleased with himself for making you laugh. “you like what you like. that’s cool. most people don’t talk about something and light up like you just did. i could get used to seeing that cute smile more often, y’ know.”

you felt your cheeks warm and looked down, hiding a smile behind your drink. you didn’t know what you expected from this coffee date—maybe a few hollow compliments and an invite back to his place—but you didn’t expect to feel... seen.

“i’m glad you came,” he said after a pause. his voice was a little quieter now, more honest.

you glanced up at him, unsure of what to say. so instead, you just nodded.

and for now, that felt like enough.

satoru and you spent the rest of what would of been your chemistry lecture talking about how much you loved being feminine, doing your make up and creating a dormitory that reflected fragile femininity to the tee. satorus smile never seemed to drop as he asked you question after question never seeming to get bored of your shy voice.

“so like, are you into james charles and stuff? he’s the only make up person i know.”

he said with a little laugh. you joined in, gigging to yourself.

“not really, i don’t go as heavy as him. i just like to… i don’t know, make my face look abit cuter? does that make sense?”

you covered your mouth with the sleeve of your jacket as you looked up at him bashfully.

his face seemed to soften seeing you hide behind your sleeve, reaching over and pulling it down, causing you to let out a small noise of surprise.

“you don’t need to hide your pretty face from me. it’s too cute not to be seen, you’re obviously doing a good job if you look that adorable.”

after a pause you nodded your head, making a note to try and not touch your face out of nervousness as you usually did.

“you know,” he finally said, tapping the table with one ringed finger, “i don’t usually do this.”

you blinked. “do what?”

“go for coffee. with girls.” his tone was sincere, his brows lifting slightly as if he was the one feeling small. “usually it’s just… parties, hookups, and then nothing. but you’re… different.”

you bit your lip, unsure how to respond. “because i look innocent?”

satoru let out a soft laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “no. because you are innocent. but not in a bad way. you’ve got this whole thing about you that makes me—” he paused, chuckling at himself. “—makes me wanna, like, put on a sweater and meet your parents or some shit.”

you couldn’t help but laugh quietly, hiding your smile behind your cup. “you’re weird.”

he grinned like he’d won the lottery. “yeah, but you smiled. that’s a win.”

and for a moment, as the sun filtered through the oak leaves and warmed your cheeks, you let yourself wonder—maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t the start of a cruel bet or a frat boy’s usual game.

the minutes turned to hours and suddenly you had sat through a five hour conversation with satoru about his basketball, your course work, the hobbies you both had, and the friends you liked the most.

“mmm. if i had to pick, i’d say suguru is my best friend. do you know him?”

‘ah, suguru.’ the hot guy in your ethics you have a small crush on, of course you knew him.

your face heated up as you turned your head to face or the window, stuttering for the first time in about four hours.

“y-yeah… i know him.”

satoru raised a brow at this. he wasn’t sure why you were suddenly so nervous, he thought he had overcome your shy barrier a few hours ago?

he cleared his throat, continuing on. “so? i hear you guys are in ethics together. is that like, good?”

‘is that like, good? seriously man? you’re sounding like a loser right now.’ he thought to himself.

“i.. yeah.. it’s good… he’s really smart, and pretty. p-pretty good at the subject, i mean!”

‘that was a shit save, y/n.’ you inwardly groaned. you could see satorus face slightly drop from his usual laid back grin.

satoru’s brow furrowed for a moment as he processed your sudden nervousness. it was subtle, but enough for him to catch it. he leaned back in his chair, studying your face, the way your eyes darted away from his and your hand fiddled with your jacket sleeve. something wasn’t adding up.

he wasn’t sure what was bothering you, but for the first time that afternoon, he felt a flicker of doubt. he had been so careful, so mindful of you—why were you suddenly pulling away?

“huh, really?” he said slowly, his voice softening, as if giving you space to explain. “didn’t know suguru was your type.”

you could feel his gaze on you, like he was trying to piece together something he hadn't understood yet. his usual playful smirk was gone, replaced by an unreadable expression that made you feel a little... vulnerable.

“ahhh, you’ve got it wrong. he’s… just a good guy,” you mumbled shyly, hoping the topic would pass.

but satoru didn’t let it slide. not this time. he was quiet for a few seconds, his fingers lightly tapping on the table. when he spoke again, his voice was quieter, more serious.

“y/n,” he began, his tone oddly gentle, “if you’re into him, that’s cool. i just want you to know, though, that i’m not here to play games. not with you.”

you looked up at him, meeting his eyes for the first time in what felt like forever. there was something unspoken in the way he said it, something that made your heart race like you had done something wrong. god you messed up. you’ve just had the most enjoyable time with satoru now he thinks you’re inlove with his best friend. yikes.

you were not one for confrontation, so you were getting nervous. you really didn’t like suguru, you just thought he was pretty, how the hell were you going to save this… you sighed deeply, peering into his orbs.

“hey, i don’t like him like that. i just think he’s a pretty guy… like you, you’re a pretty guy too.”

you bit your lip anxiously waiting for his reaction…

satoru blinked a couple of times, clearly processing your words. the usual cocky grin was nowhere to be found as his gaze softened, something almost vulnerable flickering behind his bright blue eyes. he leaned forward slightly, his arms resting casually on the table, but his posture had changed. it was like he was giving you space, like he was trying to understand you more than just joking around.

"i... i get it," he said, his voice low and a little more serious than you'd heard all day. "it's just... i’ve never really talked like this with any girl before, i’m not sure how this all works to be honest. and with suguru, i guess i was just making assumptions." he ran a hand through his white hair, looking out the window for a moment before turning back to you. "but, i’m glad to hear that. 'cause, you know, i really enjoy spending time with you. and i don't want you to feel like you have to explain yourself to me.”

you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding, feeling some of the tension melt away between the two of you. "you’re a silly guy, huh?"

he smirked, the familiar mischievous glint returning to his eyes. "yeah, i know. but i’m also a pretty straightforward guy. so just, uh, don’t feel like you owe me any explanations, okay? you’re cool, y/n. like, really cool."

your heart skipped at the compliment, but you were still a bit nervous, unsure of how to react to his change in tone. still, you managed a small smile, feeling a little lighter.

“t-thanks satoru,” you said, your voice softer now.

he leaned back again, relaxing into his chair with that signature confident grin returning to his lips. “no problem, sweetheart. you’re way too cute for me to get all weird about things. just... don’t go falling for suguru, okay?” he teased, his smile widening.

you rolled your eyes, feeling the nerves ease, though your cheeks were still a little flushed. “i’ll try my best.”

"good," he said, winking at you. "because you’re already way ahead of the competition."

you shied into yourself at the flirty gesture, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

suddenly, satorus face dropped from his laid back casual expression to one of almost annoyance. you saw his eyes trailing at the entrance of the cafe to see a group of what looked to be frat guys walking out.

“you uh.. okay?” you asked sweetly, watching him shift in his chair.

satoru didn’t answer immediately. instead, he stood up abruptly, muttering, “stay here. i’ll be right back.” his tone was sharper than usual, and you couldn’t help but watch as he plastered on a grin, striding toward the group of guys with his usual charm. but this time, it seemed different. there was a bit too much of a show in his smile, a little too much forced energy in his greetings.

“look who it is. how’s it, gojo?” one of the guys shouted, clapping satoru on the back. the others chimed in with loud greetings.

you watched from afar as he made conversation, subtly steering the group away from where you sat. after a while you saw them wrapping up.

“alright, alright, go on then. catch you later, gojo,” one of them said with a half-smile, walking away with the others. he slumped back into his chair with a sigh, glancing over his shoulder again to make sure they weren’t coming back.

“… are you okay..?” you asked, your voice soft, a little quiet. you could see the tension still lingering in his eyes.

satoru ran a hand through his hair, looking anywhere but at you for a moment. “yeah, just—” he sighed again, his voice lowering. “you know how it is. guys like them… they don’t know when to quit.”

“quit?” you repeated, brow furrowed. you were trying to piece things together, but his mood had shifted so abruptly. “what do you mean?”

he looked at you finally, his expression softening a bit. “they can be… fuckwits, to put it lightly. don’t want them coming over here and making any fucked up comments or anything.”

you blinked, realization slowly dawning on you. “you didn’t want them bothering me?”

“yeah,” he said quietly, avoiding your gaze. “i mean, it’s one thing if they’re messing around with me, but... you shouldn’t have to deal with their shit.”

your heart fluttered a little at his words. satoru was trying to protect you, even if it meant dealing with his friends’ annoying antics. it was... sweet. "thank you," you said softly, a small smile forming on your glossed lips.

he glanced at you, a slightly sheepish look on his face. “no problem. i just didn’t want them to say anything messed up to you. that’s all.”

“that’s really kind of you satoru, very chivalrous,” you said, your voice teasing yet holding its own sense of shyness.

satoru’s smile returned, this time a little more genuine. “yeah, of course. don’t know what you’d do without me.”

you raised an eyebrow playfully. “i’m sure i’d manage.”

“nah, i’m irreplaceable, girlie.” he grinned, his usual cocky charm back in full force.

you rolled your eyes, but the truth was, you were starting to like this side of him—the side that wasn’t always trying to show off. satoru may have been surrounded by chaos, but right now, in this quiet moment, he felt... real.

“well, thank you,” you said, your smile softening. “for looking out for me.”

“always,” he replied, leaning back in his chair and looking at you with a glint of something softer behind his usual cocky grin.

your date with satoru revealed a lot about his character. he was a dork, a cute dork. he was charming, funny, hot as hell, but he was deeper than that. satoru had a layer to him you we’re sure only those close to him were allowed to see, and for the time you we’re together, he showed that side you you. deep down he was thoughtful, he was kind, observant.

he cared for people and how he was perceived. and most of all he made you feel like the only girl in the world on that date. not too flirty, but just enough to make your heart flutter with life, something you hadn’t felt since you had broken up with sukuna about a year ago.

for a second, you wondered if maybe there was more to this guy than the image he liked to project, maybe he’d let you see it if you stayed around. maybe you needed to do just that.

chat my first start to a long fic on this app what do we think 😟😟

madness

It started innocently enough.

“Here. Happy anniversary, brat!” 

Sukuna handed you a big ass box (his gift), grinning like he’d just given you the solution to all your life problems. You took it, eyeing him suspiciously.

“Wow, you’re really splurging on me, babe. What’s inside?”

“Just open it.”

“Okay fine –” you tore off the wrapping and blinked. “What the fuck is this?” You asked nicely with shock as you stared at your husband’s gift, utterly baffled.

Because, really. What the fuck was this? Inside the big box… were six smaller boxes.

And as someone who’s chronically online (admit it, the only apps you ever open are twitter – you still refuse to call it ‘X’ – for F1 updates, tumblr, instagram, youtube, and pinterest), your algorithm had NEVER shoved this thing in your face.

Sukuna, on the other hand, looked way too smug about it. Arms crossed, smirk in place, even throwing in a wink for good measure.

“That, my dear wife, is a fucking Labubu.”

“A what?”

 “A Labubu,” he repeated, as if that explained anything.

“Huh?”

“You seriously haven’t heard of it?” Sukuna blinked, feigning shock. “Weird. I thought you were the one most updated between us.”

“Well yeah, but not with… whatever this is,” you narrowed your eyes as you shot back. “Mostly just F1, Stardew, and some new game drops. Not this.”

“Oh well,” he shrugged. “Just open one already.”

“Fine,” you sighed, grabbing a box and tearing into the packaging.

“Huh, why is there another plastic inside?”

“Obviously, because it’s a blind box, brat,” Sukuna replied, his tone dripping with amusement.

“Pfft, why are you so impatient today?”

“I’m just very excited for your reaction”

You narrowed your eyes, again, at your husband and said, “No, really. Tell me, babe.”

“Just open it. Stop stalling.”

“Hmp, fine –” and you ripped the plastic open.

Then you squinted. “What the hell am I looking at?”

Inside was a tiny, goblin-looking creature. You held up the plush toy in your hands, inspecting it like it was an alien artifact. It had big round eyes, sharp little teeth, and fur that made it look like a cross between a mischievous raccoon and... a gremlin.

"It's cute," Sukuna declared, like that was the only justification needed.

“You’re telling me this –”you wiggled the plushie at him, still very skeptical about this whole gift thing, “– is supposed to be cute?”

“Obviously.”

“Sukuna. This thing looks like it’s gonna scam me out of my life savings and then laugh about it.”

“Exactly,” he smirked. “Just like you.”

You gasped, clutching your chest. “Wow. So that’s what you really think of me, huh?”

“Don't act so shocked.” He leaned in, voice dropping to that infuriatingly smug drawl. “You did swindle me into marrying you.”

“Excuse me? I swindled you?”

“Mhm.”

“You literally begged me to marry you.”

“Did I?” He tilted his head, playing dumb.

“Yes.” You crossed your arms, glaring up at him. “You were down bad. It was embarrassing, honestly.”

Sukuna scoffed. “I don’t recall.”

“Should I pull up the texts?”

“Anyway,” he cut you off, reaching for another box inside the box set, “open the other ones. You’ve got five more to go.”

You eyed him warily. Then the box. Then back at him. “…Why do I feel like you just dragged me into some weird collector's cult?”

“It’s not a cult—“

“That’s exactly what someone in a cult would say.”

Sukuna just chuckled and handed you the next box.

You sighed, opening it—because at this point, you might as well embrace your fate. After opening all the boxes, you set them on your shelf, thinking that was that. Oh, if only you know how wrong you were.

A week later, you found yourself scrolling through Labubu forums. You don’t know how it happened. One moment, you were researching out of sheer curiosity – and then it was 3AM. Sukuna was fast asleep beside you, and you were staring at photos of different Labubu plushies and figurines, heart pounding like you’d just discovered a new religion.

Wait… are these actually kinda cute?

No.

No, no, no.

You turned your phone off. Absolutely not. And put in on your bedside table. No way in hell.

But the next day, you found yourself staring at your Tasty Macarons Labubus a little too long. And your husband? Of course, he noticed this.

“Babe.”

No response.

He moved closer, sitting beside you on the couch. “Babe, you’ve been ignoring me. What’s up?”

“…Huh?” This time, you finally tore your gaze away from your shelf and turned towards your husband and said, “Nothing, don’t worry.”

“You sure? You look like you’re about to shut down.”

Ttruth be told, you were debating whether to check out the Have a Seat collection sitting in your cart since 3AM or not. But you’d rather die than admit that to Sukuna.

And then another week passed, and somehow – somehow – your new collection arrived. Your husband took one look at it and raised a brow.

“So that’s why you’ve been out of it all week.”

“What do you mean?” You shot back.

“Babe,” he drawled, smirking. “I knew you’d get addicted,” he simply added with his I-know-everything-about-you tone. “Next thing you know, you’ll be selling your soul to rare editions.”

“Pfft, no way.”

“Uh-huh. Give it two weeks before you start spiraling.”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s just a phase, babe.”

It was not a phase. You were wrong. Sukuna was right. Always right.

Because a week later, you nearly had a breakdown when Sukuna surprised you with three big-ass plush dolls – Angel in Cloud, I Found You, and Catch Me If You Like Me.

“Oh my God, they’re so fucking cute,” you whispered, clutching one to your chest like it was your firstborn.

And your ever-loving husband? He just flashed that signature smirk of his, watching you descend into madness. As if he’s actually supporting (more like enabling) you going crazy over these plush toys.

Another week passed, and you found yourself pressing “checkout” on the Coca-Cola Special Set. Then, not even a week passed but in just 3 days, you went full psycho mode, caving in and splurging on all the special edition Labubus – Wings of Fortune, Happy Halloween, Wings of Fantasy, Fall in Wild… and more.

At this point, your soul had left your body, and you refuse to do the math on how much you had spent. And as they say: denial is a healthy coping mechanism.

By the time your birthday (just a week later passed) rolled around, Sukuna dropped the biggest bomb yet and gifted you four entire boxed collections which are all lined up on the dining table, wrapped with a pretty ribbon.

You gasped. “FOUR?!”

Yes, you were losing your mind. You were in Labubu fucking heaven. This was no longer a phase. This was a full-blown lifestyle.

And your husband? He was just watching. Amused. Satisfied. Like a man who had bet on the right horse.

“You’re so gone,” he smirked.

You clutched your new babies and agreeing with him, “I am so gone.”

But you see, there was one problem. Scratch that, four problems.

After all your collections, the only ones missing were the Mega Sketch Labubu 1000% and the elusive secret plushies from all the pendant sets. I mean what are you even gonna hang on your designer bags for next week? Here’s when your true descent into madness began.

As a woman on a mission, you scoured the internet, joined every damn collector’s group to hunt these secrets down. And after an intense bidding war – finally – you secured the three missing secret plushies.

For… a mere $700.

The cherry on top? Once these plushies came, you ended up opening all boxes and inside were fucking Lafufus. The knock-off ones who don’t even look the exact same.

Of course and obviously, you cried. And Sukuna? Oh bless the Gods everywhere, your husband was pissed. Not just the mildly annoyed kind of pissed – it’s the you-are-the-biggest-dumbass-I’ve-ever-married kind of pissed. In short, he was fucking livid.

“Are you kidding me?” He grumbled, rubbing his temples with one hand and the other patting you on the back with you crying for hours now since you opened those damn boxes. “I told you to double-check before buying from random sellers, dumbass.”

“I did check!”

He shot you a look and said, “For someone who triple-checks F1 rumors, you forgot this one time where it involves your money, brat.”

“I panicked!” You wailed. “The seller said it someone else was gonna buy it if I don’t act fast.”

He exhaled, slow and controlled. “You fucking idiot.” And yes, he’s done with your bullshit. For the next two days, he said nothing about Labubus. Which meant you were suffering in silence.

With your husband being him, even after all that, even after your idiotic decision-making, he still went and did what he does best – spoiling you rotten.

On the third day of Labubu silence, you woke up to a giant box sitting in the middle of your living room.

You gasped, scrambling to tear the wrapping open. And there it was, in all its oversized glory – the Mega Sketch Labubu 1000%. And right next to it? Three, small neatly wrapped packages.

Your hands shook as you opened them. And when you did, your soul left your body. Yes, it was that crazy for you.

Inside were the three secret plushies. The real ones!

You turned to look at Sukuna, eyes wide with tears and disbelief. And yes, you’re on your knees, grabbing the couch for support, “You… you did not. No fucking way this is real!”

Sukuna smirked, arms crossed. “Well, I did, baby. And it’s real. And just so I don’t forget, happy belated birthday, dumbass.”

Still can’t believe that all of this is true, your jaw dropped. “I – HOW?! THESE ARE – THEY’RE LIKE – THEY’RE IMPOSSIBLE TO GET??? IT’S SOLD OUT EVERYWHERE!”

“I have my ways.”

You choked on air. “SUKUNA!”

He just shrugged and leaned on the doorway, looking way too pleased with himself. “Figured I’d complete your collection before you go and do something stupid again.”

You threw yourself at him, clinging to him like a koala, tears in your eyes. “You’re the best husband ever, oh my god.”

“Ugh – get off!” He groaned, trying to pry you off him.

“NOPE! NEVER LETTING GO! You love me so much, it’s actually embarrassing for you”

“Tch. As if.”

“You doooo,” you cooed, snuggling closer. “You got me my dream Labubu even though I made the dumbest purchase of my life.”

Sukuna sighed, but his hand was already under your butt and squeezing them. “Yeah, yeah. You’re still a dumbass, brat.”

You pouted. “Rude.”

And so, with your ultimate Labubu collection complete, you swore you were done. No more. This was it. The final haul.

The next week, your doorbell rang. Sukuna frowned as he stared up from his laptop and called for you, “Babe, did you order something again?”

“Nope!”

You ran towards the door and find another large parcel sitting on your doorstep. And yes, you just remembered, you did order something… when you were sulking over that scamming situation.

You brought the box inside and set it in the middle of your living room. With Sukuna who stopped his reading and raised a brow at you. Giggling, you opened the box and yes inside was an entire Space Molly figurine set.

You turned to Sukuna in slow motion.

He just let out a long, suffering sigh, dragging a hand down his face. 

“You’re fucking hopeless.”

“Ehh, you still love me.”

a/n: this was one of the reasons why i was gone for a month or two. i was fucking livid with these damn blind boxes. especially, labubus! but thanks heavens, all my blind boxes were gifted to me and i haven't spent a dime yet on any of these blind boxes... and please... this hasn't been edited nor proofread yet aaaa

Poster Request: "f1 driver carlos sainz jr and any of his wins." (2024)

i took some creative liberties with this request but i couldn't resist

SURPRISE COOKIES FOR MAMA 𓆝 ⋆｡𖦹°‧

ִ ࣪𖤐 featuring. nanami kento x female! reader

ִ ࣪𖤐 warnings. both of you have a three year old daughter, broken conversations from your daughter bcs she's a kiddo, i'm leaving all of you to name your daughter.

note. midterm week, i'm going to try uploading, but if i don't, just know that it's not me ignoring my wips or you. love you all mwah <33

"this me!" (daughter) pointed at an old picture of . . . a young you with a blue thin strap floral sun dress posing cutely in front of the camera — a big smile on your face, showing off your pearly whites, "i pretty."

nanami who had his back leaning on the couch could only muster out a soft chuckle, he had his hand on the young girl's small waist to hold her up right; preventing a tumble or two, "that's mama. she looks lovely, doesn't she?"

(daughter) craned her head up to face nanami, her e/c doe eyes blinking, ears unbelieving that the portrait was her mother, "mama? no, this me! i so pretty," she pointed her chubby finger towards the portrait, which is undeniably almost as big as she is.

"mhm, that's mama," nanami caressed his daughter's head lovingly, "you do look a lot like mama, you know?" he whispers, eyeing the portrait (daughter) had laying on her small lap.

half a decade ago — nanami told himself that he isn't fit to be a family man; he swore the both of you talked about kids, and how you'd both wait at least until later on into the marriage. but (daughter) was a surprise pregnancy, and the best thing that has ever happened to the both of you.

"this no mama, this me papa," (daughter) pouts, her soft lips puckering out slightly.

nanami used his free hand to flip the photo album, showing a picture of (daughter) as a newborn. a pink colored bandana around her small head, eyes shut in content, "this is you the day you were born," he cooed out, letting his daughter take in the picture.

what a bundle of joy she is. nanami remembered every second he spent inside the delivery room by your side — letting you dig your fingers inside his flesh, because he knew the pain that you were going through at that moment couldn't compare to anything else that he was feeling. all he cared about was you and his daughter.

"this me?" (daughter)'s meek voice resounds. nanami nodded, eyes gazing into his daughter's doe ones, "i so pretty."

nanami smiled warmly, "yes, you are pretty, just like mama," he compliments; pinching her chubby cheeks gently, "it still surprises me how you're an exact copy of your mama . . ." he pats her head, his palm engulfing her whole head.

(daughter) nods her head vigorously, "mama and me twins!" she cheers happily, kicking her feet.

the male chuckles, "mhm, twins," he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her up — standing as he puts the picture album on top of the coffee table that sat in the middle of your living room, "mama's coming home soon."

"we take cookies out of cooler, papa," (daughter) pats her father's cheeks gently before wrapping an arm around his neck to hook herself close to nanami, "warm for mama."

nanami vaguely remembered the day he passed by a baking class near his office. where he first saw you, holding onto a young boy's hand — no younger than six years of age, guiding him to whisk what seemed to be cake batter. he stood out of the glass pane, staring into the class for at least the next three minutes out of his twenty-four hours just to look at you.

he thought you looked pretty (and the display cake looked pretty as well, but that was besides the point).

but he never saw you again until three months later at the same place, and you noticed him. surprising. considering he was staring yet again for the second time. but he didn't think that you'd go out your way to talk to him right at that moment — and he was thankful you did.

"mhm, we're going to warm it up for mama," with ease, nanami opened the cooler and grabbed a plate of messily made classic chocolate chip cookies wrapped with saran wrap. (daughter) contributed to most of the procedure, and nanami thought it was the third most beautiful thing besides you and her. he's a proud dad.

the process of warming the cold cookies was short — with (daughter) prepped on top of the counter, with nanami's arms right by her sides. the two of them smiling at each other in silence, waiting for the oven to let out the satisfying 'ding!', hopefully before you came through the door.

unfortunately, things don't always go the way he wanted. and there you were, with your usual (color) coat slung over your arm, heaving out an exhausted sigh, mumbling out a soft, "i'm home."

(daughter)'s head turn to face the door, eyes widening in panic as she then faced nanami, "mama home, papa," she whispers, covering her mouth to hold back a loud giggle.

nanami nuzzled his nose into hers, "want to go hide from mama?"

the young girl nods her head, almost immediately wrapping her arms around her father's neck, "go go go, papa, hide, hide!" she whispers, giggling as she fit her small face into the crook of nanami's neck.

nanami laid a hand behind his daughter's head, he passed by you who had just walked through the short hall leading towards the living room, sending out a slight signal through his eyes as he walks into (daughter)'s sage colored room. he laid the young girl down onto the rugged floor, "go go, hide from mama."

the girl wasted no time scurrying under her bed, giggling softly. on the other hand, nanami walked out of her room with a small smile, approaching you.

"something smells good," you greet the male, opening your arms for a hug. i mean — what else do you need after a long day of work besides a warm hug from your husband?

nanami's arms felt like a blanket engulfing your body, he buckled his knees slightly to press a short kiss on your lips, "(daughter) has your baking abilities, 'm not surprised. good day at work?"

you nod, "tiring day, a boy spilt heavy cream all over the floor and his mother blamed us for it," nanami's face hardened a bit after hearing your story, "she practically went on a cursing spree in front of the kids, the cops had to restrain her."

the male grazed his finger on your cheek, "i'm sorry about that, she didn't hurt you, did she?"

you shook your head, "no worries, where's my baby, hm?"

nanami pinched your nape gently, "she wanted to surprise you with her cookies, she's in her room hiding. go see her and i'll be there with the cookies, yes?"

"you're too nice to me," you jokingly said.

"just to you," he rolled his eyes, brushing his lips over the hollow of your nose, "go, go. she's waiting for you."

you pulled yourself away from his embrace, putting your coat on top of the kitchen's counter before sauntering over to (daughter)'s room, knocking on her door. which resulted in an indubitable string of laughter from your own blood and flesh from under the bed, "baby? where're you?"

her soft and hushed giggles didn't stop when you step inside her room, "are you . . ." you pretended to open the closet, "here!"

and (daughter) stifled back a laugh when you failed to find her. and the next attempt, you squat down to eye under the bed, "there you are," her loud laughs finally chimed out, "give mama a hug, please?"

the young carbon copy of you crawled out from under the bed, immediately rushing to your lap to give you a warm hug, "i miss mama . . ." she pressed a kiss to your cheek, "mama miss me?"

you cradled her body back and forth, "mama misses you so much."

"i have surprise for mama," (daughter) abruptly pulled back from the hug, "surprise cookies for mama!"

the scent of chocolate entered your nostrils as nanami walked inside the room with a plate of freshly warmed chocolate chip cookies, "it's not a surprise anymore when you tell mama about it, isn't it?" he asks with a slight chuckle.

"'ts okay, mama still surprised. i bake cookies with papa," (daughter)'s eyes twinkled with happiness when nanami laid the plate down on the floor, "i bake cookies like mama. try try mama!"

and so you did, "'ts so yummy, good job, baby!"

nanami tugged on your arm towards him, slithering an arm around your waist, "'f course she did, you're her mama, y'know?" the male leaned in to place a short kiss to the tip of your nose.

(daughter) shrieks out, "papa cooties!"

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