His Butler, In Disguise

i really hate him for what he did to megumi but i can't help but like THIS sukuna

❥ So this is love?

ᴀ/ɴ: I hope you like it! Also this man is so 👌

ʀᴇǫᴜᴇsᴛᴇᴅ ʙʏ @partlylonely

Sukuna relaxed upon feeling your delicate fingers brushing through his hair locks. Gently pushing himself towards you more in hopes that he can feel your warmth engulfing him even further as he held you tightly.

Never had he ever thought that he would have a day where he could feel so carefree and at peace, with no worries and doubts, let alone with a human, but here he was in all his vulnerability and guard down cradled in the warmth of your body.

Oh how he wanted to tell you how much he loves you everyday, how everything you did made his heart flutter, how your smile would make his day, how a touch from you is all it takes for him to be under your mercy and love, but his pride wouldn’t allow it.

He then looked up to look into your eyes, those eyes that he found already staring at him lovingly with a soft smile present on that face of yours that he oh so dearly adores.

“The best feeling in the world is... When you look at that special person and they are already smiling at you.” - Unkown

So this is love?

How he was content on the inside that you were the one he got to experience it with. You are a perfect person in his eyes, but he would never call you flawless ,for everyone has flaws, but these flaws are what make them beautiful in their own way. To him, yours made you absolutely breathtaking and mesmerizing.

He felt himself melt more in your embrace every passing second. How long has it been since he started thinking to himself about how much he loves you? And why couldn’t he voice it out loud?

He himself wanted to know the answer, but he knew that his pride and reputation would hardly work it out unless he saw you in need of comforting. In that case, to hell pride and being called pathetic for feeling love.

He cupped your face gently and kissed you sweetly. Never was he good at words so when it came to actions he put his all into it. Known as sadistic most would be surprised about how gentle his touch was right now.

He himself is surprised, how did he turn this way? You had him wrapped around your pretty little fingers while you didn’t even realize and he couldn’t do anything about it, wouldn’t do anything about it.

But he was scared. He had a weakness now. He didn’t know how far will he go for the sake of love. He was scared people will use it against him. He was scared of how much he sacrifice for it. He was scared of you being sacrificed for his on so glorious conquering.

But if love is the last thing he will feel, and your love to be exact then he wouldn’t mind to let an arrow pierce his heart, just like how yours did and made him smile like he never did before.

If only he could spend all his life in this moment of love and adoration and comfortable silence. He would trade his everything for it. His adulation for you was beyond description.

copyright © 2020 tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

🩵🩵🩵

五条先生rkgk

「元気出してよ」

☆Art by: illust_man_2020 on twitter!☆

MEN ARE FUCKIN COMPLICATED AS SHIT!!!

⚠️: rant ahead (solely for entertainment purposes)

You don't need an expert to say this but trying to find a man (or boy) to date or even just get to know is so fuckin hard. You think women are weird with their mood swings? Try boys!

I have been texting this japanese guy who randomly approached ME and he was alright. BUT NOW, unfortunately, what was smooth sailing has now become shitty lake water.

Our "friendship" is approaching its one year and yet that guy refuses to show me his face or reveal what he sounds like through facetime; says he's insecure. Ok, that I kinda understand that crap! What I don't understand is how can this guy be insecure if he can send me a pic of his fuckin abs?(don't know if that's him tho)

What gets even weirder is that he disappears for weeks/months at a time and when I ask what happened he gives me reasons and explanations that are vague as shit! At first I was ok, thought he probably needed his space and alone time. It happened a second time, I was chill. Third time was the charm because I lost my cool with the reasons he's pulling out of his ass and immediately he gets defensive! I mean if your friend goes missing for a long time, you eventually text ti find out if they're alright. That's the normal response! I gave up on that eventually😕

THEN HE DROPPED THE FUCKIN BOMB: he said he likes me! WTF...the dude ignores me yet he has the audacity to like me when I know jack about him. This is the same dude that refused to give his best friend my profile in fear that his friend would flirt, work his way into my heart and he would lose me (his words not mine). What the actual fuck should I make of this?

It's been another 2 months since he ghosted me (again). His friend has been keeping me company and he's seems like a good guy I guess.

Honestly it's so fuckin disappointing. I wasn't expecting much tho. In my entire life, I haven't dated or been in a relationship so I'm actually clueless. The disappointment approaches the point of being hurtful because even though I wasn't expecting a lot- from a guy who sits a thousand miles away, who refuses to show me who he really is even when it's been a year- it doesn't make it hurt any less. He's my age so I guess that's why it bothers me.

I don't know wtf went wrong but I do wish it worked out.

believe me babes I know how you feel, truly😚😚😚

I'm so upset that I can't date Steven Grant

Baby Blues

Pairing - Sylus x f!MC

Summary - In the first two weeks of being new parents, the dynamic hasn’t been quite what you and Sylus expected. He’s eager to be involved, but your daughter doesn’t seem to have warmed to him.

Word count - 2.7k

⚠️Warning⚠️ - Mentions of pregnancy and childbirth. Hurt/comfort, fluff, and a little sprinkle of angst.

Your newborn didn’t like Sylus.

It sounded ridiculous, but you know he was thinking it too. You didn’t have the gall to say it out loud—not that it even needed to be said. The fact was definitely lingering between you both.

You never thought much of why she would wriggle and kick up a storm in your stomach whenever he touched the swell of your belly, but you now had an inclination that it was because she didn’t like his hands there.

It was strange and upsetting, but he didn’t seem too hurt by it so far, only silently helpless as he watched you do everything. You were two weeks postpartum, so your emotions were already all over the place. It seemed as though Sylus was holding his own feelings back to make room for yours, and when you had asked him about it, he simply kissed your forehead and reassured you that he was fine. All while your screaming daughter cried for you against his chest.

Not that he opened up to you all that often. You did manage to get things out of him with a push sometimes, but he was like an unyielding gate, refusing to open to anyone.

Your exhaustion was only adding to the toll on your fragile emotions. The baby only wanted your touch, and sleep was almost impossible for you because of that very reason. Only you could feed her. Only you could soothe her. Only you could touch her.

That was one thing that was really getting to Sylus. The bloodshot whites of your eyes as you rocked the fussy newborn to sleep and fed her at all hours of the morning. The barely touched plates of food that ended up stone cold and in the bin. Not to mention the completely non-existent ten minutes you needed to at least have a wash without having to run out of the shower to her aid.

He must have felt quite useless in the weeks where you should be recovering, but he didn’t want you to worry about his feelings by indulging you in his thoughts. 

Your pregnancy had been smooth, ending with a good twenty-seven hours of rather torturous labour, and pushing that went on for an agonising two hours. It had all been worth it, though. Your little bundle of joy with tufts of platinum hair had finally greeted you both with a piercing wail, but eased her protests once placed against your heaving chest.

You just wished she would settle with both parents.

It was another day of desperate wailing, your arms becoming so heavy with the exertion of having no option but to hold her. You tried to put her in her pram for Sylus to push her around for a while, but her cries only increased to the point of her little face turning purple. You couldn’t sit and just listen to it, and you absolutely would not ignore her—no matter how much Sylus pushed for you to go and get some sleep.

“She wants me,” you say for what felt like the millionth time that week.

Sylus was evidently reluctant to stop trying, but he wouldn’t keep you from her. He conceded with a defeated huff, watching your every move as you gently lifted your screeching daughter out of the plush pram. Her screams died down quickly as you placed her against your chest, her ear-piercing wails whittling down to soft whimpers.

“Of all the dangerous paths I’ve crossed and violent challenges I’ve encountered, it’s our newborn daughter who finally defeats me,” he mumbles quietly, trying to make a lighthearted joke about it.

You tried to smile at his attempt to add a bit of humour to the situation, but the comment only made you cry. Hard.

“Hey.” He immediately stepped toward you, rubbing a large hand up and down your back soothingly. You had to give it to him, his patience with you in the last two weeks had been immaculate. “Don’t cry, sweetie.”

You couldn’t stop, your ragged breaths and shaking shoulders refusing to relent. “I d-don’t get it,” you bawl. “What are we doing d-differently?”

Sylus sighed, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. His hand continued to rub soothing circles against your back to ease your upset. “Well, she did live inside you for nine months. Besides, you didn’t exactly like me either when we first met.”

He smiled faintly, tilting his head down to capture your gaze. Despite the obvious tease, he still seemed to be holding himself back. It was frustrating him more than he wanted to admit to you. You knew he was protecting your feelings, but you wished he would just show some sense of vulnerability.

You don’t dare set your sleeping daughter down in her moses basket, knowing full well that she would just wake straight back up. So the rest of the afternoon is spent with your tiny newborn curled up against your chest, a few feeding and changing breaks in between.

Once the day turned into night, nothing in the world sounded more appealing to you than a hot shower, a hot meal, and a hot cup of tea. But letting her scream and cry while you did that was not an option. It wasn’t fair on her, and it wasn’t fair on Sylus.

He didn’t leave you unless he absolutely had to throughout the day. You watched him every time he heard a little whimper from the baby, his hands flexing and twitching. Every time you had to get up to do something for her, he was either at your back or side.

He wanted to help.

The chef brought through a very large bowl of marinated chicken and pasta for you, upon Sylus’s instruction. As soon as the bowl was set on the little table beside your recliner chair, you almost began drooling. You hadn’t managed to eat much at all in the chaos, and Sylus wasn’t amused when you didn’t even get the chance to finish the two biscuits he’d brought you earlier in the day.

You reached a careful hand over to the fork, not even lifting it before your daughter began to wriggle and whine in your other arm. Dropping it immediately, you retract your hand, only making it halfway back to the fussy newborn before long, slender fingers wrapped themselves around your wrist.

“No,” Sylus says firmly. “Absolutely not.”

Your initial response is to immediately go on the defence. “She’s cry—”

“I know she’s crying,” he interrupted tightly. “I know. But you’re going to eat while your food is hot, and you’re going to do it without our screaming daughter on your chest.”

“But—” 

“No buts.”

He had that commanding look in his eye, the one that would intimidate most, but was only used on you when he was especially adamant on you doing something necessary for yourself. 

You were a little relieved to see him so passionate, if you were being honest. He had been treading on eggshells to not upset you or the baby for fourteen whole days, and it wasn’t good for anyone. You felt the tension on him every time you both managed to get into bed together for more than five minutes. He needed this little outburst.

“This needs to stop now. I’m going to figure her out, and you are going to eat. Alright?” His tone left no room for argument, and the more your daughter protested against your intention to eat, the more hungry and tired you felt.

It wasn’t easy, but you handed her off to him carefully, swallowing a lump in your throat. You couldn’t take your eyes off of her distressed little face as Sylus attempted to cradle her.

You were practically twitching, your legs about to push the footrest of the recliner down to retrieve her in the first thirty seconds she was away from you. Sylus noticed immediately, and pushed it back up with his foot before you could close it down fully.

“She’s not in any danger,” he said calmly, but his whole body was visibly tense. “She’s right here, I won’t leave the room. Just eat, sweetie.”

You wanted to protest further, but he wasn’t going to yield this time. His eyes remained trained on you until you finally sagged back into the chair, and it wasn’t until you picked up your fork that he finally turned away, focusing on the distraught newborn kicking up a storm against his chest.

He held her the way you did, one hand cupped over her head to keep it steady while the other hand softly patted her back. Why she didn’t want to be near him was an utter mystery to you, he wasn’t doing anything incorrectly. 

You couldn’t eat while the two most important people in your life were quite clearly in a distressing situation before you. “Are you alright?” You asked him gently, hoping that he would answer you.

“I will be if you eat,” he quickly responded, not looking at you.

Sighing, you stab a slice of the chicken onto your fork, just looking at it for a moment. Your brain had managed to kick itself into gear as you forged a new approach to his silence. 

This was an opportunity to head in the right direction.

“I’ll eat if you speak to me.”

Blood red eyes shot in your direction, an eyebrow raised. “Blackmail?”

You quickly shook your head. “You were right, this does need to stop. Starting with you shutting yourself off from me.” 

“Eat.”

The forked piece of chicken points straight at his unamused face. “Talk.”

He shook his head a little in clear annoyance, the stress consuming him. Your daughter continued to wail, immune to the warmth and safety of his arms. He was basically trapped after promising to remain in the room with you.

Your bleary eyes held his irises of rubies, neither of you conceding. It was a mental challenge to ignore the fragrant aroma of garlic and fresh basil beneath your nose, but you were not eating until at least one of the two beautiful people before you had calmed down.

Sylus visibly swallowed, finally giving in as he noticed your lack of a bluff. “Do you think she knows?” His voice was quiet, barely heard over your newborn’s cries.

“Knows what?”

He opened his mouth to speak, but shut it again, nodding his head towards the piece of chicken on your fork. You shovel it into your gob, eager for him to continue.

His eyes flicker down to your daughter before he speaks again. “Do you think she knows that I’ve done terrible things? Do you think that’s why she doesn’t like me?”

“I—” you grumble and roll your eyes as he nods to your plate of food again, waiting for you to take another mouthful that you end up having to speak through, “I don’t see how she could. Is that why you’ve been so quiet?”

The corner of his mouth curled upward ever-so-slightly. “Missing my tongue, kitten?”

You couldn’t help your own smile as his shoulders sagged a little from where they were practically touching his ears. It wasn’t often that he opened up to you like this. You almost always had to pry or throw in a proposition to coax him into speaking.

You took another bite of your food, moving the plate from the small table to your lap. “Do you really think she doesn’t like you?”

His smirk faded away quickly, a gentle thumb brushing over your daughter's head. She continued to cry, but the volume had dropped a little. “Do you not think that?” He asked.

You didn’t know how to answer that question. To tell the truth, you did think that, but not for the same reason he was thinking.

“I think she may be a little attached at the moment. We’re very different shapes and sizes. Maybe she feels—”

“Unsafe?” 

His tone had dropped an octave—something you didn’t think was possible considering the already bone-chilling vibrations of his voice. Never before had you witnessed him in a state of such vulnerability. He was insecure about this, and it was finally starting to show.

You went to stand up to be near him, but he immediately stepped forward to halt your movement.

“Eat.”

Not wanting to lose this free-speaking Sylus you had barely met before, you did as he said, twirling a fat mouthful of pasta onto your fork for extra brownie points.

You both remained in silence for a few moments, only your fork scraping against the bowl in your lap marrying with the sounds of your baby’s cries surrounding the small sitting room.

Sylus’s gaze didn’t leave the newborn cradled in his arms, a gentle sway in his hips as he tried to keep her moving. All you could do was study his composure, seeing it as it cracked.

After a moment, he looked back at you. “I don’t want to keep failing you.”

You coughed on the mouthful of the creamy pasta at his words, completely in awe of his confession.

Failing you? How did he get to that conclusion?

“You’ve done everything for her,” he continued, not allowing you to immediately reassure him. “I want to be able to do everything, too. For both of you.”

The all too familiar sting in your wet eyes built in intensity by the second, and you quickly found yourself sniffling.

Not only was he insecure about your daughter not feeling safe in his arms, but he felt that he’d failed you both in the past two weeks. It was heartbreaking for you to hear.

“Don’t cry—”

“You’re…fuck, Sylus. You’re not failing anyone,” you tuck your fork back into the pasta with a loud sniffle, ignoring his glare that silently demanded that you continue to eat. “How the hell did you come to that conclusion?”

He looked entirely reluctant to answer, his head dropping back down to stare at his tiny twin. You didn’t want him to stop speaking again, so you quietly picked your fork back up, hoping it would capture his attention.

The silence stretched between you as you made the effort to eat for his sake. Even your daughter's cries became a little weaker—like she was pitying him.

He didn’t look at you as he said, “I’m the bad guy. The boogie man. The kind of monster that parents threaten their kids with visits from in the middle of the night if they don’t brush their teeth before bed.”

“Not in our story, you’re not,” you quickly reassured him earnestly. “You’re the husband and father who keeps the monsters away from your family. That’s the only Sylus she will ever know. The real one.”

He still didn’t look up from the newborn, now almost completely silent in his arms, but you catch a subtle bob in his throat. You didn’t need him to respond to you. You knew you had said the right words to soothe that self-deprecating thought in his complicated mind. You could see it.

“Have I told you how perfect you were two weeks ago,” he asked, knowing full well that he’d told her every day since then.

Your mouth curled into a soft smile. Even after all these years together—after welcoming your first child into this scary, yet beautiful world—Sylus had no trouble giving you butterflies.

“I think you might’ve mentioned it,” you hummed softly.

And on that very note, the baby was fast asleep in his hold for the very first time in two whole weeks. His face didn’t reveal anything, but you knew he was relieved. All he wanted to do was make this easier for the both of you.

Finally, you had managed to figure out what the problem had been all this time.

“You were too tense,” you point out quietly, noticing how openly at ease he now was. “That’s what she didn’t like.”

He hummed in response, unable to tear his gaze away from the sleeping babe in his arms. You didn’t say anything further, letting him enjoy that special moment in peace while you proceeded to enjoy the rest of your meal.

Despite the challenges of becoming new parents, things were going to be alright from that point onwards.

A/N - Hello! I hope you enjoyed this oneshot, thank you so much for reading. Just to let you know, I do take requests ❤️

now i really wanna have (his) babies

Oooo Kenji Sato x a curvy girlfriend please? I wanna see how emi and kenji are upset and “arguing” who’s turn to cuddle the reader while she and professor Sato are eating snacks

heree youu go, hon. sorry abt the wait. enjoyy<33

She's mine

kenji sato x curvy!fem!reader

this contains: fluff, cuddling, silly banters.

summary: kenji amd emi quarrel for your attention.

masterlist !

"you think they'd stop this nonsense anytime soon?" professor sato asked you, pushing the box of donuts towards you.

you picked one with the strawberry filling, "highly unlikely," you bit into it, watching the drama unfold in front of you with professor sato.

kenji and emi arguing by the workplace, voices raised and hands moving around exaggeratedly.

kenji's finger was pointed directly at emi as she adamantly flailed her arms in response. her face was drawn down in distress, clearly feeling frustrated and unheeded by his stern demeanor.

"you had her last week!" kenji argued, "now, it's my turn,"

emi squealed in protest, flopping down on the ground with a cry.

"oh really? you think you can have her by throwing a fit?! not gonna happen, princess,"

you rolled your eyes at the scene, lips tugging upwards in amusement.

"no can do, missy!" kenji hollered at the kaiju baby, "she's mine. i got her first! you came around like what, a few weeks ago?" he pretended to think, "get in line, young woman!" he jabbed a thumb behind his back.

growling in frustration, emi sent a ray of sound waves his way. kenji barely dodged it at the nick of time, gaping up at emi. at the nerve to do so.

"this is so stupid," you face-palmed, sliding off the chair from professor sato's side and headed towards the children's quarrel.

"okay kids," you got in between them, speaking sternly, "mommy's here. behave yourself-" you yelped when you were pulled into kenji's arms, made to stand in front of him.

emi pouted, making grabby hands at you, cooing in need.

kenji pulled you into him in such a way your back was flush with his chest, "i don't even need to argue or explain myself to you whatsoever, emi," his palms splayed on your love handles, holding you possessively, "she's mine," he kissed your neck possessively, making your squirm in place, his fingers curling on your soft skin of your stomach.

emi's cheeks wobbled her and shoulders sagged in defeat, assuming you had picked him over her.

her cheeks wobbled and emi wailed loudly, kicking her legs on front of her.

he scoffed at her, "you think she's gonna coddle you- honey, don't coddle her," kenji uttered to you when you slipped out of his arms and headed towards emi.

you strode towards her, climbing the high-rise stool and sat cross-legged on it, "my poor baby, c'mere," you cooed at her, stretching your arms put in front of you, "s'okay, my love,"

"i thought i was your love," kenji mumbled lowly, ducking his head. but you heard it.

you shot him a stern glare that spoke 'not now, kenji,"

your boyfriend groaned loudly, stomping over to his father's side and sat on your seat. he grabbed a donut, stuffing his face to cope up with the annoyance that was bubbling in him.

"shh, shh, i'm right here," you hands spread on her cheeks when she leaned towards you. you pressed a loud smooch to her orange beak, making her sobs stop instantly.

kenji rolled his eyes, "cheap trick-ow!"

professor sato hit his son at the back of his son with his cane, "get it together!"

you had cuddled emi to sleep, her arm slung over your lap. you brushed your palms on her round cheeks to ease her into sleep.

you carefully slipped out, heading towards the corner of the basement where kenji was making his daily coffee.

he heard you approach and looked at you over his shoulder, letting out a sigh of relief, "can i have you to myself now?"

you gave him a nose-scrunched smile, arms held wide for him.

kenji rushed into your awaiting arms, pulling you into him. his face burying into the crook of your neck, "finally, all mine,"

you slipped your hands into the hair at the back of his neck, "you need to grow up,"

you stilled when you felt him kiss your jaw, muttering desperately, "missed you so much, baby. you have no idea," he huffed into your chest like a needy child, clinging onto you.

he sat on the couch behind, pulling you on his lap. his hands were at the back of your thighs, making you straddle him.

his fingers squeezed your thighs, as though to make sure you were actually with him

"kenji...?" you rested your hands on his shoulders, your tone questioning.

"shush, sweetheart," kenji silenced you with a kiss to your lips. your chest against his, both hearts beating in sync, "you're not going anywhere. and m'not gonna lose you to a kaiju baby, for god sakes,"

cheeni aur mirchi...😍

Home to home (Monkey Man Kid X Reader)

A/n: that scene where his ptsd got triggered.

didn't know what to tittle this so it's based in the song I listened to while I'm wriitng:

He can't breathe

He can't breathe

Fuck!

He can't fucking breathe!

In through the nose. Out through mouth, Kid.

Breathe, you big baffoon! You've done this before, a million fucking time, BREATHE!

"Fuck!" he raged next to the dumpster, his throat is closing up. He feels his lungs falling apart. Stupid cigarettes!

Fuck this can't be it, this can't be how he goes.

He looks down at what he assumes to be his hands, are they? They're too blurry, shit is it his hands shaking making them blurry? Is it his eyes?

He needs to breathe

He needs to fucking breathe

He needs to

He needs..

You

He needs you

Kid reached into his back pocket, feeling a cold metal object against his fingertips he just fished them out. Hoping that it is his phone. By pure luck he tried searching for you contact number, pressing the phone to his ear desperately after

He hears it ring

Fuck what time is it?

How long has it been?

A month? Two months? Since he told you his stupid desire to seek out his mother's murderers?

'you can't do this to me, Kid. We fought so fucking hard! Remember? The orphanage, the poverty. We were homeless at some point! You can't-you can't up and leave when we're finally stable like this,'

he remembers your frantic eyes searching into his empty ones. You're desperate to keep him in this life, this dream you two built together. The guilt of surviving yet not avenging his mother's death left a heavy feeling in his chest, so heavy he spent weeks on the bed, barely leaving, eating, taking care of himself. It was you, you took care of him.

And he decided to get on his feet and throw everything out for revenge.

Ungrateful bastard.

He hears the phone rang. Why is it still ringing? You wouldn't have the heart to leave him hanging... Right?

'I swear, Kid, I won't search for you if you step out of that door.' fuck that's right, you swore-

"hello?" your voice drowsy with sleep. He can imagine it, your hair spilled everywhere on that floral pillow, sleeping in one of his big shirt with only some shorts under. Eyes barely open.

"hello? Don't play with me right now, I'm sleepy as fuck." the irritation in your voice makes it clear that you didn't open your eyes to see the caller ID.

He called your name, fighting against the dryness of his throat.

"Kid? What time is it? Are you okay? What's going on?" he could hear you waking up by each word you said. "why are you breathing like that, are you hurt?"

He didn't even realise the wheezing he was making.

"can't.. Breathe.." he croaked out.

"Kid? Baby, hey, follow me, huh? Breathe in through your nose, hold, out through your mouth."

He's been repeating that to himself but somehow when you do it, it works, he could finally breathe at least a little. You guided him multiple times until he thinks he's stable enough.

"where are you? Queenie's hotel?" of course you knew, when he told you about his plan he told you everything. No matter how angry you are at him you remember everything he says.

Kid nods before realising you can't see him. "yeah.." he keeps trying to steady his breath. "I'm coming."

"cheeni, no-"

"shut up, I'm coming," he heard the final stern tone in your voice and didn't bother fighting back.

He stayed on the phone the whole time, staring out somewhere, his breathing even but mind is as messy as a jungle. He realised you stayed on the phone too. He only murmured a few words when you asked him where he was

He had no idea how long he was sitting on that curb.

"Kid, hey," your voice reel half of him back into the cold night. You have your hand cupping his cheek, trying to get him to look at you.

"hey, I'm here,"

He sighed when he felt the familiar pattern, a kiss to the forehead, another to the nose and two for the lips. Your fingers buried in his curls. "hey, bandhar, you hear me?" he finally looked at you.

"I saw.. My maa in her." he whispered, eyes locked with yours. You had no idea who he was referring to but you nodded. "okay, come on, baby." you simply said, trying to get him on his own feet. "you finished your shift?"

He simply nodded. Wordlessly got onto his feet, clutching onto your waist.

"I saw maa," his head hung low, curls covering his face, his tall figure that always seems to stand unapologetically is slumped.

You cupped his cheek with one had, brushing your thumb against his cheek.

"bandhar, look at me." you called sweetly, trying to get his attention. He finally lifted his head to look at you, his once slicked back hair had return to their original floof.

Though you do realise his hair is a little dry.

"how about you get on my bike hm? I'll take you home. Get you something to eat, run a cold shower, we'll lay down together and you can tell me about your day." you looked at him, his eyes never left your. Both of your hands had cupped his cheek at this point.

"i can go home?" his vouce sounded so tiny, unlike the man you know. You nodded and planted a kiss on his forehead

"of course baby, anytime," you simply said, heart breaking that he thought you'd be so cruel to deny him of his own home.

He didn't say much the whole ride, just hugged you from behind tightly, buried his face into your neck, letting the wind go through his hair.

Once you're home you guided him by his hand. He just mindlessly followed. You changed him, gave him a cup of water and now end up on the bed with him, his face laying on your stomach, basically draping over you like a blanket.

"I saw her," he whispered, hating how insane he sounded. "heard her screams again," he continues. Running your fingers through his soft hair, you felt guilty, what were you thinking? Letting a man with severe PTSD and survivor guilt roam around by himself after admitting that he has thoughts on revenge? And the fact that he was barely leaving the bed 3 weeks prior. That's an obvious red flag.

You took his hand and kissed his palm, letting him say what he needs to, letting him come back to you as he wants to.

"I'm sorry," you quietly say, caressing his hand. Kid looks up to you confused.

"I should've tried to understand you, instead I blew it out of proportion and argued with you, asking you to choose resulting in you leaving? It's so stupid" you continued.

Kid shook his head, he drew circles on your hip, his head laid back on your stomach. "you have your own issues too. I knew... About your families just up and abandoning you, fleeing the country and stuffs and in a way maybe you see me putting myself at risk as leaving you," his said, eyebrows furrowed, deep in thought.

You hummed, playing with his hair again. Twirling one of the curls that strayed.

"I guess when you meet at an orphanage you just kind of have baggage," you tried joking but he nodded, taking it seriously. "it's true," and he turned to look at you, pushing himself up.

Repeating the pattern you both have been doing since you were 16, just two orphans sneaking kisses around in the orphanage, one kiss on the forehead, one for the nose and twice on the lips.

"im glad I met you, you're the only good thing that came out of this whole thing. You're my anchor, you know that?" he asked, kissing you after. You've missed this, the pressure of his kiss on your lips.

You smiled, caressing his cheek softly. "you're my whole world," you replied, smile flattening. "you promise, you won't leave? You won't take these unnecessary risks?" you cant go through another month of not knowing what he was doing. Worry that he might have fuck with the wrong people and end up dead at the side of the street of Mumbai somewhere.

He nodded and kissed your forehead, his fingers tracing circles on your soft stomach. "I promise, cheeni, I promise,"

he's not coming back. it's so melancholic.

from me to you — gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: this takes place in chapter 268, soo sort of spoilers ahead? also long live gojo satoru; gojo leaves you a letter 🙏

“y/n-sensei, there is a letter for you as well!”

that catches your attention, and you look up at the first years. you tilt your head slightly, and yuuji hands you an envelope.

you gently take it from him, and the first thing you notice is “wifey” written on it then the doodle of satoru with his blindfold on. you feel your throat tighten, and your hands shake slightly.

you let out a small breath then shakily open the letter.

hey, honey!!

it first reads.

I feel like there is still much I didn’t tell you in our last meeting, so here I, your beautiful and handsome husband, am writing them down.

you swallow lightly, and a small smile appears on your face as you imagine satoru saying that, then you continue to the next line.

first, I changed all your computer passwords to variations of “satoruisthebest” at one point. your confusion was so cute!!

you quirk an eyebrow at the admission, but when you rack your brain, you remember that one day when you couldn’t log into your computer.

what you vividly remember was satoru being sat beside you the whole time, and now that you think about it. he was smiling so widely the entire time, letting out small chuckles every now and then. oh, that sneaky man.

“satoru, I am telling you it’s broken!”

“sweetheart, we spent over 2000$ on that. if it broke, then we could easily sue the company,” he chuckled, arm wrapping around your shoulder and pulling you closer.

“2 year guaranteed top performance my ass!”

you smile at the memory. it was pretty satoru of him to do that. your eyes then move to continue reading.

second, there are times when I would tell Megumi that you would be coming with me, then he would turn and leave me when he found out I was tricking him.

your eyes glance up at said boy who is sat in across of you. he made it out alive, despite everything. he suffered so much, but he made it.

it makes you relieved, and you can imagine satoru being bloody proud of him and saying something along the lines of ‘you handed sukuna’s ass to him, very cool!’

no matter how much megumi had frowned and grimaced at satoru’s presence or antics. it rooted itself as something—safe and familiar.

you can’t count on your hands the times when you and satoru would visit the siblings, and nobody really said it, but these meetings did all of you a favor, a chance to kind of wind down. maybe act like death might actually be blooming tomorrow.

it feels like just yesterday when megumi would cling to you when he got really sad or nervous, after so much time spent getting comfortable with each other.

he grew up well, you think, eyes gliding to next.

third, I hid your uniform every two to three weeks, so you have to stay with me.

at that, your eyes widen a bit. satoru’s schedule was pretty packed, but he somehow managed to squeeze time for quality time between you two.

it tugged on your heartstrings, and you made sure he knew how much you appreciated it, not a single space on his face left without a kiss. however, finding out that he went out of his way to make you rest and stay.

satoru’s care really showed in his actions, and you feel like this is the biggest proof of it.

“satoru, have you seen my uniform?”

“nope! maybe, it is a sign to stay home today? you’ve been working so hard, wifey!”

you cupped his face, pulled him down to your height, and kisses his cheek, “you’ve been working harder, ‘toru. let me take off some of the load at least.”

“we could both stay!”

“you’re kidding, right?”

“I already told yaga; I miss you!”

you try to stop the reminiscing further and try to compose yourself before reading the rest.

fourth, I’m the one who kept adjusting the thermostat. I just wanted an excuse to cuddle.

a fond yet melancholy smile appears on your face. you kinda figured that one out. satoru’s favorite pastime was cuddling, so it’s no surprise that he would go out of his way to create the need for it even further.

add to that, once you went to get some green tea and saw him from the corner of your eye teleport to the thermostat, click something, then teleport back to bed.

you figured that the room being chilly that night was not an exception in the middle of july.

“babeeee, it’s so cold! let’s cuddle!”

“maybe the problem is with the thermostat?”

“I checked! I think cuddling is the best solution.”

you giggle as you recall the moment, one of many similar. your heart feels a bit lighter as you go through the letter. something satoru managed to always do even in person.

he would plaster sticky notes, get you trinkets, and even pull pranks on other just to see you smile. feeling more encouraged, you keep on reading the letter.

then you feel your chest constrict so tightly that you might just throw up.

fifth, I am really gonna fucking miss you.

you read the line over again, and you purse your lip in hopes of silencing any noise that may come out as you feel the lump in your throat return, even worse than before. your breathing starts getting more difficult.

your grip on the letter tightens, and you find yourself thinking back to the good times. memories of late nights spent in each other’s arms, thinking about everything and nothing at once.

hushed whispers of confessions and quiet giggles as you reminisced on your highschool days. tight hugs when recalling the sad moments and the departure of a certain someone.

“you know, y/n, I think we might just be made for each other,” he said one night. you hummed and looked him in the eyes.

“three am thoughts?”

“three am admissions,” he grins slightly, “I am made for you, and you’re made for me.”

you remember him pulling you closer and kissing your forehead, while you teased, “and what would you need little old me for, so much that I got made?”

he feigns thinking then closes his eyes, burying his face in your shoulder, “grounding me.”

I love you. I really do, but you should know that already, right?

your eyes drift down to the corner of the paper, and that is when you feel your tears start free-falling. there is drawn a chibi satoru besides a chibi you and between them is a heart.

the chibi satoru is giving yours a big smooch, while she laughs. you never thought that the day your jealousy burns would be because of drawings, and drawings of you and your own husband, nonetheless.

“but wow, gojo-sensei is shit at writing letters,” you hear nobara remark.

megumi responds with a small chuckle, “I am fine with mine.”

“what about you, y/n-sensei?—”

the trio becomes silent as you let out a sob. a watery smile makes its way up your face as you kiss the letter gently and murmur, “so shitty.”

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copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or I will tell @callmemirro

👆every time i read a fic with an Indian oc

Sukuna bringin in a Hindu bride 💳💥💳💥 DO YOU SEE THE VISION???

wait wait wait I SEEE hold awn i got you

Ryomen Sukuna and his Hindu!Bride

a/n: beyond my idea of loving this dynamic, i think this would fit so perfectly. plus that's his damn aesthetic iyk?!

It's the moment you, his pretty pretty Hindu!Bride walks down the petal aisle, Ryomen Sukuna sees the goddess of his very own eudaimonia in your ethereal beauty of jewel covered figure. Holding a garland as if reins to his power.

Hindu!Bride who addresses him as “Swami” which means 'master of self' (master, in general) —he's enthralled. Way to fuel your husband I guess.

Husband!Sukuna learns the word “Ardhangini” is how a husband calls his wife, connoting 'the better half' of him.

“Indeed you are” Sukuna coos internally, looking at his beautiful wife who touches his feet gently as a sign of respect and humility, to seek his blessings.

His grinch little heart would flutter at the sight of his woman blushing about the smallest of his acts, or whenever he complies to your request, big tender fingers putting vermillion on her parted hairline—the very sign of her wifehood.

-

Husband!Sukuna never liked a cooked meal; he used to eat the raw flesh each day, until enters his new wife in the godforsaken scullery. It's a first that a queen enters the kitchen to serve, first time he tasted something entirely different to his taste... saporous, still ended up liking it. There are a lot of firsts he experiences with you by his side.

“Not... bad” he grumbles, his lips betraying and twitching into a slight grin. Delicious... he thinks, because Sukuna can get used to this flavour rich meal already. Just how perfect can his little Miss perfect get?

-

Husband!Sukuna who allows you to put pretty earings on him, he'd spend a little more time looking at himself in the mirror. Maybe he loves your compliments too much.

But nothing parallels his Hindu!Bride clad in golden jewelleries head to toe. Your long hair and the forehead, honey toned face, the arms and wrists, your plump waist and even your lotus like feet... that all makes him a poet whose favourite genre is your jewelled guise.

Maybe that's why he calls you a treasure. His treasure. There's a sort of pride filling his chest when he walks with you with the way you dress; you need high maintenance and lot of care that no man but he can provide.

-

And their goes a saying that a woman acts like a mom to the one in love with—that's so true with you and your Husband!Sukuna cause you literally baby him whenever the chance. Feeding him the first bite with your henna decorated pretty palm, he loves that so much. Likes the smell it adds to whatever you make him eat.

But can you blame yourself? He is a baby. A sulky big baby at that. Sulking when he finds his other side of the bed empty, sulking when you leave his chambers without permission, sulking cause you were too busy to give him kisses or just purely to get your attention.

He makes sure you see him sulk.

-

It's just you who can walk in on him when he's throwing and thrashing things around in rage—unaffected. Everyone in this palace knows that's a privilege only you get, because you're his only one.

No one dares hold his face and look him in the eyes like his Hindu!Bride. No one dares order him to “calm the fuck down” like his queen. Literally none in the three worlds would cradle the big soft-haired head of the King of Curses in their lap to tell him he's a grumpy little child.

That's how it has always been between you two, completing and fitting each other's pieces like Yin & Yang. You couldn't be happier anywhere out of this trance of love you're in for him and he couldn't even imagine to successfully manage a day without his treasure. There couldn't have been a better pair, never could have he met a woman to match his devotion for her.

TAGS: @anubisisthebomb @dianagracesworld @stellagrangerreads12 @momochina-sama @xxkay15xx @whodoesthatanymore @heresan @nanamikentoseyebags @4sat0ruu

been thinking abt @xxnghtclls 's fic Permission & this ♡

this is how I like my villains...

𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬

Pairing: Trueform!Sukuna x f!Reader

Summary: You want to catch your husband in the act.

Warnings: Pure Fluff

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

You always wake up to a fresh bouquet of flowers by your side, no matter the day. It’s a sweet gesture that always starts your day off on the right note. It’s been happening since you got married, though Sukuna claims he’s not doing it.

But who else would give you flowers if not Sukuna? He’d kill anyone just for looking at you, anyone leaving flowers next to you each morning is asking for a death sentence. What truly makes you curious is if Sukuna handpicks the flowers himself or if he orders someone to do it. You giggle at the mere thought of your giant husband hand picking flowers for you. 

You have the perfect plan, and you execute it. You wake up just as Sukuna does, sneakily following behind him as he starts off his day. 

He wakes up just as the sun rises, and immediately goes to eat the breakfast that’s hot and fresh for him. Sukuna loves to eat his meals with you so much so that in the beginning of your relationship he’d force you to wake up to eat with him. Now, he gives you the grace to wake up at whatever time you want.

After a long fulfilling breakfast, he stands up and heads outside which makes your excitement grow. You try to be like his shadow, and even though you make some noise it appears to be working. He hasn’t noticed you yet at least, and Sukuna seems to notice everything. 

He’s walking to the garden, and you’re grinning. He really does pick the flowers for you, a sweet gesture that he wouldn’t do for anybody else. You want to watch him pick them, decide which flowers are the most suitable for his wife but you know you have to go back before he catches you. You think you’re safe– Until he stops in his tracks, and glares at you. 

“I heard an annoying bug flying around.” He comments, and you purse your lips together. He has such a way with words, it’s definitely why you got married. He steps toward you, looking down at you in disappointment, “I told you I don’t pick the damn flowers.”

“Because you certainly would allow someone else to give flowers to your wife.” You point out, and he sighs. He can’t argue with that… Well he can, he’ll decide not to. “Guess I’ll go back to bed and wait for my secret admirer to show up then. I’ll wait for him, then ask him to marry me because he loves me so–”

“I’ll kill him.” He can’t even listen to the end of the sentence. “Fine, it’s me. I wake you up with flowers, happy?”

“Very.” You smile at him, wrapping your arms around him. He hugs you back, kissing the top of your head.

“You better not brag about this. Can’t have anyone think less of me.” He tells you, picking you up and bringing you with him so you can pick your own bouquet this time around. 

You have to admit, it’s hilarious to watch him pick something so small with his giant hands, but your heart mostly flutters. Sukuna loves you enough to personally pick up flowers for you each and every morning.

“Stop staring at me.” He orders, but that goes one ear in, out the other.

“You’re so cute.” He hates that word, especially when it’s referring to him, but he can’t really argue with you.

“Call me cute one more time, and I’ll stop.” He warns you, and you chuckle. He rolls his eyes hearing your laugh, since it isn’t a joke to him. He knows it isn’t true, and you know too which is why you don’t protest at his warning.

No matter what you do, he won’t change his morning routine.