#n 04 33

[felinefractious]

Ziazan Oneida [Pedigree]

🐱 Sacred Birman

📸 Catchy Images

🎨 Seal Point Mitted [Birman Gloving]

[starmapz]

what you know - ch11: scars || r. sukuna

❦ ryomen sukuna x f!reader [college au] [ongoing series]

❝ you've heard his reputation and you've seen first-hand the way he's late to class if he even bothers to show up. paired with him for the most important project of the year, you choose to give him the benefit of the doubt- but maybe that's more than he deserves when your perfect grades depend on him, or maybe there's more to the aloof and irritable sukuna than meets the eye. ❞

❦ cw ; mdni, 18+ only. contains explicit sexual themes and content. use of alcohol. use of cannabis. use of nicotine/cigarettes. angst. hurt/no comfort. hurt/comfort. implied injury. family trauma. smut. slow burn. anxiety. panic attacks. mentions of difficulty eating. vomit. tags will be updated as series continues.

❦ additional tags ; college parties and themes. sukuna ooc warning as this is a realistic take on modern sukuna. reader is fairly preppy and implied to be smaller than sukuna, but he's 6"11.

❦ words ; 15.3k.

❦ a/n ; please note the tags have been updated. see you at the bottom!

main masterlist || series masterlist || previous chapter || next chapter

Your eyes flutter open to the silence of your empty apartment. Your blankets envelop you in a deep and heavy cocoon as sunlight filters through the blinds. It should be warm, but your limbs are chilled with the remnants of your grief following the argument with Sukuna the night before.

Right.

Sighing, you move languidly to rub at your eyes, blinking them a few times to rid them of the groggy feeling that plagues you. Your limbs feel as though they’re being dragged down by weights as each movement proves to be an effort. As your vision clears and you find yourself staring at the ceiling, it occurs to you it’s too well-lit for you to have woken up before your alarm.

Pushing yourself up on your elbow, you sigh as your muscles protest against every movement. Flipping your phone up to face you, you find yourself blinking at the time, unable to process just how exactly you managed to sleep through the blaring of your alarm.

By three hours.

Clearly that had caught Kento’s attention as well, as he’d left a voicemail, called twice, and sent a number of texts. Even with all the turmoil in your life lately, you haven’t missed a class, so clearly a few alarm bells had gone off for your friend.

Plopping back down into the plush of your pillows, you groan and rub your eyes again.

It’s hard to tell exactly how long you lay there before grabbing your phone to check your messages. You don’t even have the energy to listen to the voicemail, heading straight to your text thread with him.

Friday 8:33 AM - Kento || Hi. It’s unlike you to be late. Is everything alright?

Friday 9:31 AM - Kento || Do you need a hand with anything?

Friday 9:58 AM - Kento || I’m getting concerned. Please reply to something to let me know you’re alright.

Friday 10:04 AM - Kento || Please answer my calls. Send me a text. Something to let me know you’re okay.

Friday 10:13 AM - Kento || That’s it. I’m on my way.

Oh, fuck.

Your eyes flicker up to the time. 10:28 AM. If he’s walking from campus, chances are he’ll be at your door at any second. You would think that would be the push you need to get out of bed, but you can’t physically bring yourself to do so. Somehow, sitting and staring at the ceiling feels like the better option here.

Well, no. It doesn’t. But no amount of willpower will move your body from the blankets that envelop you in a warm hug. They’re the closest thing you have to comfort when your eyes burn and your throat’s dry from the amount of tears cried the previous night.

That’s not even beginning to mention the onset of the headache beginning to hammer at your brain.

Unfortunately, the comfort doesn’t last long when there’s a knock at your door in time with the pounding of your head. Kento’s muffled but familiar voice calls your name, but all you can do is stare at the ceiling.

You want to be alone. You don’t particularly feel like listening to Kento or Shoko’s ‘I told you so’ speech, or how either of them are going to teach Sukuna a lesson. It won’t ease your melancholy and it certainly won’t ease your guilt. That’s not to say you don’t appreciate the thought, but your bed is more appealing right now than being dragged to campus or out for a meal.

Another rap at the door. Another call of your name.

Still, you blankly stare at the ceiling, one arm draped over your middle clutching your phone. You feel bad, guilty, for ignoring Kento after he walked all this way in the cold, but you can pay him back later.

For now, you just need a day to yourself.

Unfortunately, Kento doesn’t seem to agree with you.

Your phone vibrates in your hand as it rings, Kento’s name flashing across the screen. You groan again, rolling onto your side as you hit the green button.

“Hello?” Your voice is raw, cracking at the end of the one word you manage to utter out.

“Hi. Did you receive my texts? I was worried when you didn’t reply, but you don’t sound well.”

Dragging your hands roughly across your features, you contemplate telling him you’re sick, but it doesn’t sit well in your gut to lie to your friend after ignoring him. “I did, sorry. I slept through my alarm.”

“I see.” You can vaguely hear his voice outside your door still, but you can’t bring yourself to move. “Are you sick?”

Yes. Yes. Yes. “No.”

There’s a pause on the other end of the line before Kento seems to make up his mind. “Let me in. I know you’re inside.”

“It’s fine, I’ll get ready and-”

The tone he uses as he says your name has you throwing your head back against the pillow. It’s the kind of tone that mimics one your mother might have used on you as a child, and if this were anyone aside from Kento, you might have had more to say. Unfortunately, he’s a very convincing (and often relentless) man.

“Fine. One moment.”

Flipping onto your back again, you stare at the ceiling for a second longer, which turns into a minute longer, which turns into more knocks at the door and Kento’s muffled voice asking you to open the door. With a final forlorn sigh, you manage to push yourself to your feet, find a hoodie to throw on over your fuzzy kitty cat shorts and tank top, and drag yourself over to the door.

Kento is standing just outside your apartment in beige slacks and a big forest green coat. His eyes scan your face, flickering down to the baggy hoodie that adorns your top, before he grimaces. It feels painfully like the equivalent of hearing ‘I’m not mad, just disappointed’, without a word even being spoken.

Straightening, his expression goes neutral as he accepts your silent invitation to enter, immediately rooting around cupboards in your kitchen and pulling out two mugs. He continues his search, pulling out tea and setting your kettle to boil. When he’s satisfied with his work, he turns to lean his hip against the counter. The only hint you get of what’s going through his mind is a barely noticeable twitch of his brow as you’re glued in place to where he left you just inside the door.

“Um- you don’t have to do all that,” you make a meek attempt at stopping him, receiving only a raised brow in return.

“A little late for that, no?”

Your lips part as you evaluate the scene behind him, the kettle already beginning to boil, tea bags sitting in mugs. You chew on your lip, wincing at how raw it is under your teeth.

“So tell me,” he begins, arms crossed over his chest. “What has you sleeping through your alarm?”

The intonation behind his words briefly has you feeling like a child who’s been caught by their parents doing something bad. Sighing, you relent, languidly finding your way to the table shoved into the corner of the small apartment kitchen. Your face falls as you lean over the table, the photo definition of exhaustion.

“Sukuna and I got into a fight last night,” you admit.

Kento’s expression hardens, his jaw tightening as his sharp eyes narrow just enough to tell you he’s beyond mad. As the kettle whistles behind him, his movements are measured as he pours boiling water into each mug with a glance at his watch to allow them the perfect amount of time to steep.

“Milk and sugar?”

“Please,” you murmur, staring at the subtle shadow your fingers cast over the table as you tap them rhythmically across the wooden surface.

Kento moves evenly, his gaze drawn to the full mugs to ensure he doesn’t spill as he sets one in front of you, holding the other close to him as he pulls out a chair beside you for himself.

“I won’t force you to talk about the argument,” he begins in a measured tone, as though he needs a moment before addressing the subject to keep his frustrations at bay. “However, I would like to talk about how you’re feeling.” He swirls the small teaspoon in his mug, his eyes flickering up to meet yours.

The steam billowing from the mug in front of you draws your gaze, swirling and dissipating at your eye level.

“You’re too…” you search for a word, leaning on your hand, “perceptive,” you grumble, not particularly in the mood to talk about how you’re feeling either.

Kento’s lips twitch upwards just enough to let you know he heard you.

“I’m just tired, I think.”

Bringing his mug to his lips, Kento hums. He leaves the dialogue open for you to talk about what you want to, rather than pressing. He’s always been overly considerate in that way, even as kids.

Sliding your finger up the side of the mug and pulling it towards yourself, allowing the steam to soothe your pounding head, you sigh, finally relenting to Kento’s kindness.

“I’m just so frustrated. I put my all into our friendship, into helping him with everything and with the lawsuit, and he just-” you shake your head, waving a hand through the air. “He just turns everything into an argument, and he’s never willing to talk things through.” You drag a hand over your face, pressing your fingers hard into your temple in an attempt to will away your headache.

Despite the obvious tension riddling his muscles, Kento remains calm and steady. “No one can blame you for being frustrated with him,” he agrees, taking another sip of his tea in order to keep his less pleasant opinions on Sukuna to himself. “Not everyone grew up with my mother breathing down their neck, after all,” he chuckles mostly to himself, a memory popping into his mind of his psychiatrist of a mother scolding you for not telling Kento how you felt when he ate the last piece of your birthday cake one year.

Of course, you were both barely seven, and the argument was over cake, completely inconsequential. Yet, you’d still both learned a very valuable lesson. Not necessarily from the single incident, but his mother had a certain way of scolding both of you and Yu, that had the three of you growing up extremely in tune with your own emotions and your capability of discussing them.

“Your mom’s an angel,” you mumble with a small smile.

Humming in agreement, Kento nods. “She is. My perspective, however, is that Sukuna didn’t have the privilege of growing up with someone like her.” For someone so blatantly angry with Sukuna’s treatment of you, he’s shockingly reasonable as you discuss your frustrations. “I may not know much about him, but I would be willing to wager a guess that he finds it difficult to discuss how he’s feeling.”

“I could have told you that.”

Kento cocks a brow at your sassy reply. “My point,” he continues, “is that some people are not worth your time. It may be worth thinking about whether he is.”

There’s his anger.

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” you shrug, blowing on your tea.

“The argument was that serious?”

You drum your fingers over the side of the mug. “I told him he wasted his last chance with me.”

“I see,” he pauses, considering his words carefully. “I’m glad you stood up for yourself,” he speaks in a very genuine tone, “but you don’t seem happy about the outcome.”

You let the silence hang over you both for a moment, finally taking a sip of your tea. You would have put more milk, but it’s still nice.

You mull over Nanami’s words. No, you’re not happy. You’re not happy that you cried through the night, or that you’re upset over Sukuna’s cutting words. But worst of all, you’re not happy that he chose to waste his last chance with you.

He’d been so certain it wouldn’t happen again, yet things are never so simple with him, are they? There’s always a way he can dig himself further underground, to drown in his own sorrows.

So why are you harboring guilt so wholeheartedly alongside the hurt? Why are you allowing him the satisfaction of hurting you and feeling the culpability of your own actions when you tried to fix things on the spot?

Why do you still feel the urge to go back and check on him?

Why are you crying again?

Your eyes are hot with tears as you find yourself using the back of your hand to wipe your cheeks.

Kento offers a reassuring hand on your upper arm, giving it a gentle rub with his thumb. “You can lean on me, if you need.”

“I’m okay,” you manage, sniffling once as you force what may be the least convincing smile your blonde friend has ever seen.

“I’d beg to differ,” he frowns, giving your arm a light squeeze as he sighs. “It’s okay to be down,” he reminds you with a genuine look of sympathy as his anger towards Sukuna dissipating in place of his concern for you.

Your lip quirks up slightly at his words. You’d only just spoken that exact sentiment to Choso not that long ago, now it was being used against you like cruel irony. You suppose it makes sense the phrase would have come from Nanami, or more specifically his mom.

“You’re right, I know,” you relent, leaning forward on your palm with your elbow bent against the table. You can’t deny your own words, you know you should talk to Kento, even if it isn’t easy to do so. Your eyes flicker to the woven bracelets that slide down your wrist that you don’t have the heart to cut off as you contemplate what you want to say.

Your mouth opens and closes a number of times before you compose yourself, sitting upright and facing your friend. His aloof expression remains intact as you open and close your mouth a number of times before finally managing to spit something out.

“Can I tell you something?”

He nods.

“We kissed. Right before finals, last semester,” you begin, chewing on your raw lip with a subtle wince at the hot pain that shoots through it. Nanami nods in acknowledgement, refraining from passing judgement. “Then, at Satoru’s party, the one that you missed when you headed back home, he rejected me… I guess.” Saying it aloud feels somehow surreal, as though considering the kiss (if it could even be called just a kiss) nothing more than a passing craving is a criminal offence.

But at the end of the day, he called it a mistake. He backtracked and picked up the pieces and made it clear that he wants you in his life, but not like that.

Wanted you in his life.

Wanted.

Rubbing your hands harshly over your features in an effort to quell the tears that seem to relentlessly trail down the soft skin of your cheeks, you suck in a sharp breath and continue. “And that’s fine, I was okay with just being his friend,” you whisper, your voice betraying your anguish. “But even though he rejected me and I knew nothing would happen, I still fell in love with him.”

The floodgates absolutely shatter in that moment, a mess of salty tears and barely contained sobs falling from you. The admission carries so much weight, yet voicing it doesn’t lift the burden from your heart. Rather, the air around you seems heavy in comparison to only a moment ago.

Kento frowns, sliding his chair closer to you to allow him to draw you into his side. He’s always been particularly good at comfort, for someone so stoic. “I know,” he sighs, a gentle hand rubbing your shoulder. “I think everyone at our table knows apart from you and him.”

“Don’t tell me that,” you sniffle, “that just makes this all more embarrassing,” you mumble with a sad chuckle.

Kento hums, a tinge of humor surrounding the sound. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of. You can’t help who you fall for.” He pats your shoulder reassuringly, pulling back to sit in his own seat as he shoots you an earnest look. “Why don’t you spend the weekend relaxing? You can return to your studies on Monday,” he suggests, changing the subject as you wipe the remnants of tears from your eyes. “I can drop some dinner off after class, if you’d like the company.”

It sounds nice, it really does.

But thinking about Sukuna has you realizing that you have a test in a few hours that you can’t afford to miss.

Life stops for no one.

Not even the heartbroken girl who’s entirely too sweet for her own good.

“That’s alright,” you shoot him a wry smile, “I need to get to my afternoon class. I have an exam.”

“Less than ideal timing,” Kento scowls. His expression mirrors one you’ve seen on his mother’s face before, back when you were children.

“Stop assessing me,” you scold him. “You aren’t even in Psych.”

Kento chuckles quietly, caught. “Sorry,” he apologizes, checking the time. “In that case, why don’t we head to campus together? We can grab something to eat on the way.”

“Sure, that sounds nice. Will you be okay to wait while I get ready?” You query with a small tilt of your head.

“I’m sure I can find something to do,” he assures you.

Your chair slides across the floor as you get to your feet, beginning your morning routine a few hours later than usual.

By the time you’ve managed to pull yourself together as best as your motivation will allow, you find yourself staring at the mirror, letting out a long sigh. You’ve done your best to cover up the remnants of the many hours of tears that were cried, but foundation and concealer only goes so far, and you can’t bring yourself to do any more makeup. Your limbs are simply too heavy to be bothered. Your outfit isn’t exactly doing you any favors to hide your mental state either, a pair of sweatpants adorning your lower half while a pale pink oversized hoodie hangs loosely over your shoulders.

It’ll have to do. 

It’s not until you arrive at the lunch hall that you realize that your appearance might seem a bit out of place to the rest of the table. Still, you assure them as many times as you can that you’re just tired. It’s true, but it’s hard to keep the facade up when even Toji is shooting you the occasional look as though ‘Sukuna broke my heart’ is tattooed across your forehead.

You even debate going to check at one point, but Kento assures you that everything is fine, offering to walk you to your class. He beckons Shoko along with him, who practically has an outburst as soon as you’re out in the chilly air on your way to the lecture hall.

“I’ll kick his ass. I’m gonna make him wish he never even met you. I’ll-”

“Stop! Stop. Please,” you plead with wide eyes. You appreciate her zealousness, but if you have to hear another threat to Sukuna’s balls from her, you think you may just need to rip your ears off. “Is it that obvious?” You pout, though the humor you try to lace into the expression gets lost along the way.

Shoko’s shoulders fall as she pulls you in for a hug. “I’m sorry,” she says softly, both as an apology for coming out the gates swinging and a show of sympathy. “Are you okay?”

“I’ll live,” you reply quietly with a tight-lipped smile, though she can’t see it as she holds you.

“Why don’t you stay at mine this weekend?”

“That’s okay, Sho,” you hum, pulling back with a heavy sigh. “I think I need some time.”

Shoko doesn’t seem convinced, shooting Nanami an uncertain look, but she nods regardless. “If you say so.” Her brow curls in thought as she pulls back from you. “Girls’ night tonight?” She resigns from the idea of the full weekend, still pushing for something, knowing you otherwise would likely waste away alone under the covers of your bed.

“I’m not really-”

“Actually, not up for discussion!” She decides, pointing a finger at you. “Meet me outside the research building, my lecture ends at three.” She then turns to Kento. “We’ll grab you from class once we’re both out.”

His brow raises. “For what?”

“Girls’ night.”

With a deep sigh, he presses his thumb to the crease between his brows. “I was under the impression that getting my nails done was a one-time thing.”

Shoko shoots him an innocent smile. “Nope. You’re in it for life now.”

“I’m thrilled,” he grimaces, though there’s a nearly imperceptible hint of warmth that swirls in his tawny irises. He turns his attention back towards you, motioning with his chin towards the building a few steps away. “Go ace your exam.”

“Thanks, Kento. Both of you,” you turn your attention to Shoko, hugging her again.

“Don’t thank me yet,” she smiles, “because this conversation isn’t over.” It comes across as a warning, but you’re grateful to have such supportive friends to fall back on.

Turning to your class, you’re relieved they can’t see the frown that pulls your lips down immediately as you’re faced with thoughts that Sukuna likely doesn’t have anyone to lean on. Maybe Uraume, but they didn’t seem to know what had happened as far as you could tell at lunch.

You can only hope the fallout of the argument isn’t as dire on him as it has been on you. Unfortunately, that hope fizzles out when you enter the lecture hall and find the seat beside yours empty.

As the professor passes the exam out to the students around the hall, slowly making her way up to your seat, you find dread settling in the pit of your stomach. Sukuna’s failed. He’s not here, and you know he’s not coming. No matter what happened between you and no matter the fact that you know you need to let go, you can’t help but worry.

It’s just who you are.

You swallow hard at the sympathetic look your professor gives you as she hands your test to you.

You want to tell her you tried.

Yet somehow, it all feels fruitless. There’s no point. It doesn’t matter anymore.

You need to focus on your test.

–

Fiddling with the colored twine wrapped around your wrist, you stare out into the crowd in front of you. Your vision blurs at the edges, the bright colors of different clothes all seeming to blend as you stare mindlessly out at the sweaty bodies making rounds of Satoru’s frat house.

The bass of whatever party playlist your friend’s thrown on surrounds you, and yet you can hardly hear it over the ringing in your ears.

How many times had you nodded when Satoru asked if you wanted another drink? Six? Seven? More?

Your attention turns down to the red cup in your hands as you find yourself staring at the vodka and sprite fizzing as you swirl it in the cup.

It may have been a couple of weeks, but between your less-than-ideal exam score in Literature History and the lingering heartbreak, drinking away the pain had seemed like the best course of action for the night. The key word being had. Now, looking out into the crowd with more than a buzz and your mind filled with static, you’re starting to regret that decision.

You thought you would forget. Forget and party, maybe kiss some hot frat boy and pretend everything with Sukuna had all been a bad dream, but that wasn’t the case at all.

Instead, you’d embarrassed yourself in front of Suguru by spilling every single detail about your kiss with Sukuna, leaving the poor man shocked and concerned for you, only to excuse yourself to get another drink. Now, plopped down on the couch with a heart that aches, you contemplate just grabbing a cab and going home. You’re not even sure how late it is, or how long you’ve been here, but sitting alone on the couch in front of the dancefloor feels… well, pathetic.

Throwing your head back on the cushion, you head to the kitchen and dump your drink down the sink. Satoru can afford it, and your mind and heart sure as hell can’t.

You turn your blurry vision back to the crowd, chewing on your lip as you search for Shoko, Satoru, Suguru… Even Toji, Uraume, or Atsuya, who you had spotted earlier.

Anything to distract you from the horribly lonely thoughts.

Of all the things that the heartbreak of leaving Sukuna’s apartment that night had caused, you never imagined that loneliness would tug at you so strongly. You spent every moment of spare time with Sukuna, Yuji and Choso, and now… your spare time feels empty. Movies, music, books, TV, it’s all little more than a distraction.

Still, the time away from the man in question had allowed you an opportunity to pick up pieces of yourself you hadn’t even realized were spilled across the floor like dried paint. Impossible to fully pick up, but mostly wiped away. You’d needed to fill the pieces in with new ones. They didn’t fit quite right, they weren’t… Well, there’s no need to think about him. Even if the pieces aren’t moulded quite correctly and leave behind cracks, you’re healing.

It’s what you told yourself anyway. That your new friendships with Toji, Atsuya and Uraume could fill the gaps eventually if you allowed yourself to nurture them.

But at the end of the day, it all connects back to him. If it were a normal day, you would have been satisfied with those new friendships.

But you’re drunk. And everyone looks like Sukuna if you squint too hard.

“My bad, are you alright?” a familiar voice rings out in the air around you as the fridge door accidentally knocks into your side, pulling you from your thoughts. You stumble forward, catching yourself on the kitchen counter.

“Hiromi,” you blink in surprise at the sight of the law student, his attire a complete one-eighty from the last time you came across him with-

Fuck.

Shaking your head, you shoot him a smile. “Don’t worry ‘bout it.” You swallow hard, crossing your arms over your chest to push down stray thoughts of a certain salmon-haired man.

“How’ve you been?” He queries, leaning back against the stainless steel fridge once it shuts and he’s got a drink in his hand.

“Not too bad,” you lie steadily, your hands suddenly feeling empty without the comfort of a drink.

Maybe you should have kept the cup.

“How’re you?” You bounce the question back at him, surprised when your words come out slurred. Are you really that drunk?

“Good, good. Getting as ready as I can for midterms,” he smiles, his sunken eyes crinkling at the corners as he exchanges niceties with you. You can see how he’s friends with Kento, they share a certain sense of warmth and openness that you’re sure makes it easy for them to get along with anyone.

“Me too,” you nod. “But S’toru loves to drag us out to parties,” you chuckle wryly.

Hiromi nods in acknowledgment. “Sounds right from what I know of the guy. How’s Sukuna? Everything going alright with the, uh, lawsuit?”

Based on the way Hiromi blinks in confusion, you must blanche. Or maybe it’s the way you go silent. Or the way your face falls.

What does it matter?

Regardless, Hiromi stands up straight, running a hand through his disheveled hair. A stray strand falls over his forehead as he takes a step towards you. “Shit, I didn’t mean to, uh-” he pauses, glancing around uncertainly. “I didn’t know it was a touchy subject, I’m sorry.”

You swallow down your emotions, forcing a brave face and a tight-lipped smile. At least you aren’t crying. “It’s fine, you didn’ know.”

His lips part, but he doesn’t seem too sure of what to say.

“It was good t’ see you,” you offer him an out, but to your shock he doesn’t take it. He would be like Nanami in that way.

“I’m, uh, heading to sit with Kento if you wanted to join me,” he dismisses your offer, tilting his chin in the direction of the front door. “He’s by the stairs.”

“He’s here?”

Hiromi’s shoulders relax as he nods.

“That’d be great.”

Squeezing through the crowd of sweaty bodies that reek of alcohol and weed- though you probably do too- you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding as the stairs come into sight. Sure enough, your blonde friend’s familiar face turns to you and Hiromi. He’s still in his usual button-down with pale beige slacks, but the sleeves are rolled up past his elbows and he seems at ease.

At the sight of an approaching person, Kento’s attention shifts, flickering between Hiromi and you.

“Look who I found,” Hiromi smiles, plopping down on the stairs.

Your name slips past Kento’s lips as a greeting.

“Hey, Kento,” you put your best effort into the smile, taking a seat beside him on the stairs. He’s sitting next to a woman you don’t recognize, though based on how Hiromi immediately launches into conversation with her, you assume they’re friends. “‘M surprised you’re here.”

The blonde motions to his formal outfit, too dressed up for a party. “As am I,” he concurs. “Yu dragged me here, then disappeared.”

Although this isn’t his scene, Kento usually shows up to Satoru’s parties regardless, and keeps mostly to himself and your group. He’s made it clear he isn’t a fan, and he’s not particularly close to Satoru as far as your group goes, finding his boisterous personality mildly irritating, however he’s happy to look out for his friends while they’re drinking.

“At least y’ found Hiromi,” you point out, to which Kento nods.

“I still would prefer to be studying,” he sighs, bringing a hand up to scratch his chin. His eyes are still sharp, hardly dulled by the meager amount of alcohol in his system. Beer and coolers aren’t exactly his forté, and he’s not about to bring whiskey to a frat party. In fact, you wouldn’t be shocked if all he’d had to this point was a sip.

“May as well enjoy it now th’t you’re here,” you offer a smile, shrugging. “Satoru n’ Suguru were playing beer pong last time I saw ‘em, and Shoko n’ Uraume are in the back corner talking to some o’ their classmates.”

Kento hums, staring blankly at the beige wall ahead of the stairs. “And you?”

“What ‘bout me?”

“Why aren’t you with either of them?” He asks, turning to face you.

You blink a couple of times, before absently shrugging. “Jus’ needed some space, I guess.”

Kento examines your expression for a moment too long, and even in your haze of drunkenness, it sends a shiver down your spine. He grimaces finally, his brows pulled together in concern.

“How are you feeling?”

“Fine.”

He scowls harder.

“Drunk, and fine.”

Recognition of your half-lie flashes through his eyes.

Too drunk to remember you have makeup on, you rub at your eyes with your thumb and pointer finger, sighing. “I’m jus’ more drunk than I thought. But fine, really.”

Kento sighs, abandoning his drink with Hiromi as he pushes to his feet. “Come on,” he urges you, pulling you to your feet alongside him. The amount you rely on him to pull you up surprises even you as he keeps you steady while he searches for Shoko. He threads through the dancefloor, leading your unsteady gait past the beer pong tables as Suguru sinks a ball in your journalism classmate’s cup, met with the cheers of the surrounding crowd. In your haze, you barely notice the kitchen and living room all coming into sight, until Kento brings you to a halt behind the beer pong tables at the back of the living room.

With lidded eyes, you survey your surroundings. Discarded bottles of beer and coolers lay across the floor and the back of the couch, which Toji is lounging in. He yawns, taking another sip of his beer as his emerald eyes flicker up to you. His lips twitch up into a smirk as he catches your eye.

“You a lil’ tipsy?” He queries.

You only manage a nod before Kento is gently setting you down between Toji and Uraume. You can scarcely hear the blonde over the pumping bass of the pop music blaring through the speakers, but at the sound of your name, you tune in.

“I’m taking her out- would you like to join?”

Shoko shakes her head, her attention trained on a brunette with a scar over the side of her face.

“Shit, are you goin’ for food?”

Kento’s brow raises as he turns to Toji and nods. “That was my plan.”

“Fuck, count me in. Satoru’s got this place stocked like he’s never made a fuckin’ dime.”

“Ouch?” The man in question feigns a shot to the heart dramatically as he steps through the crowd, shooting Toji a look.

“Don’t act like a fuckin’ Snickers bar wasn’t your dinner,” Toji scoffs, the scar at the corner of his lip pulled taut.

“It was a good dinner,” he shrugs.

“This is why ya can’t handle your alcohol.”

Before you know it, the four of you are all piling into Kento’s tiny silver Honda Civic, possibly the strangest group of four all piled into a car. A business major, football player, frat boy, and literature major, two of whom you’re certain annoy Kento, but parties may just bother him more.

“Shouldn’t you be looking after your own party, Gojo?” Kento shoots him a glare through the rearview mirror as the white-haired man lets out a loud belch.

“Nah, the frat’s got it covered,” he dismisses his friend before grimacing in your direction. “And my bedroom door is locked, so there’s nothing to worry about.”

The meaning behind his words passes completely over your head as you stare out the window, ignoring the two men in the back.

“Where’re you takin’ us, anyway?” Toji asks, leaning so far into his chair that his knees continually hit the back of your seat.

“Denny’s.”

“Fuck yeah.”

Satoru and Toji make steady conversation in the back of the car until you pull into the parking lot of the nearest Denny’s. Kento makes his way around the car to help you, sighing as you brush him off and trail very slowly after him, staring up at the dimly-lit diner sign as though you’ve never seen it before.

Your group follows the waitress to a table, where you stare at the menu, but it’s all a blur. Your eyes are trained on a photo of a waffle covered in chocolate syrup and it’s at this point that you realize that it’s not just the menu, but most of the night that’s a blur.

In fact, you know you just got here, and you hardly remember a thing.

Shouldn’t you be happy? You’re a happy drunk.

Instead, it feels as though you’re wading through your own misery, hardly keeping afloat.

“Do you know what you want?” Kento nudges you as the waitress makes her way over to you.

You shake your head no, wobbling slightly.

His brow furrows as he examines you. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” you dismiss him again, but now even Toji and Satoru are staring your way.

“Lemme guess,” Toji starts, leaning forward over the table on his forearms. “Sukuna.”

You’d managed to keep the fight with Sukuna under wraps for the last couple of weeks, only by studying during lunch and excusing yourself before anyone could ask about him, but now it seemed there was no escaping it.

“Not the time, Toji,” Kento warns with a sharp glare, before asking the waitress for water for the table and a few more minutes to look at the menu.

“It’s fine,” you shrug. “Yeah, it’s Sukuna,” you tell the raven-haired football player.

“Shit, ‘course it is,” Toji snorts, though he’s not shocked. “I’ll kick his ass for you.”

“You really don’t-”

“I knew he’d pull some shit,” Satoru interrupts, waving a hand dramatically through the air. “Toji and I’ll-”

“No no nonono-” you wave your hands in front of the table to get their attention. “Just- leave ‘im be. We both made mistakes. I’ll be fine.”

“You’ve been saying that word a lot lately. Fine. Yet you don’t seem it,” Kento points out, and you’re surprised even he’s jumping on the train to kick Sukuna’s ass, in his own subtle way.

“Yeah, well-” you pause, watching as the waitress sets water before each of you. With a haphazard swirl of the glass in front of you, you shrug. “I thought the alcohol would help.”

“Alcohol is a depressant,” Kento points out in typical fashion, earning deadpan glares from not only you, but Toji, and Satoru as well.

“Lighten up, Nanamin, let the girl drink.” Satoru gives your glass a tap from across the table with a drunken grin, taking a sip as though it isn’t water. Kento grimaces at your side, but remains quiet. “You don’t need that asshole,” Satoru continues, swinging his hand through the air again as though he might just hit Sukuna. “You’ve got us, and we’re gonna haaaaaave-” He pauses, his finger skimming across the laminated menu in his hand. “Cinnamon roll pancakes à la carte.”

“Maybe you are,” Toji snorts, shaking his head. He opens his mouth to voice his order, but Satoru’s already pulling the menus from all of your hands as the waitress approaches again.

“Nah, listen. The secret to getting over some asshole issss-” He waits for the waitress to return, shooting her a kind smile. “Four cookies n’ cream milkshakes, and four stacks of cinnamon bun pancakes. À la carte. Please,” he grins, using that sultry sweet smile he’s perfected that has you giggling at the disdain on both Kento and Toji’s faces.

To your surprise, it turns out the cure to heartbreak is a stack of cinnamon bun pancakes tall enough to make you puke. Or maybe that feeling is from the alcohol you had entirely too much of. Either way, you find yourself forgetting about him and focusing on now. The people who show up when you’re down, even if Satoru and Toji are only here at the mention of food.

But as you find yourself laughing and really, truly, enjoying yourself, your heart feels warm and the cracks left behind by Sukuna begin to heal. They’ll leave behind jagged scars in the form of him and his little brothers, a point in your life that you’re still fond of, and you think you always will be. You don’t regret what you did for any of them, the proof of that still tied around your wrist, but you do wish you could at least have apologized properly for hurting him.

The worst part of all may be that you’re not sure if those scars will ever fade. The love you felt- feel- for him, is beyond what you’ve ever felt before. The way he showed his care may have been unconventional, but it worked for you. Maybe it was the knowledge that no one got to understand Sukuna quite like you, that he let himself be vulnerable around you and taught you about yourself, your kindness, and your mind like no one else could. It brought out a part of you that you’re proud to continue to nurture, even if that means the scars remain.

Still, even if only for a night, the hurt fades as you laugh along with what might be the strangest group of four you could make up out of your friends.

Maybe locking yourself up and watching sad movies had been a bigger mistake than you thought.

–

With wide, bright eyes, you make your way into the office on the first Tuesday of March. The office may as well be on fire given the state you find it in, paperwork scattered across every desk in sight and half of the staff seem to be running around like chickens with their heads cut off.

“What…?”

Before you have time to question the chaos of the office, the editor who you’d been shadowing stops at the sight of you. Her blonde hair nearly reaches her waist, her tall stance hunched and tired as though she’s been spread thin all day.

“Yuki, what’s going on?” You query, your brow pulled together.

“Ayana disappeared,” she explains with a sigh. You tilt your head, certain the company’s graphic designer is just sick, or- “And no one’s been able to get a hold of her for over a week now. We’ve got seven novels without covers all from one company, and if we can’t provide soon, we’ll lose our biggest client-”

“Why don’t we just outsource?” You shake your head, interrupting her rambling.

“Girl, I wish. I’ve suggested it like- seven times. I guess we ‘can’t’.” Her use of finger quotations around the word ‘can’t’ has you pursing your lips in confusion.

“And why ‘can’t’ we, exactly?” You mirror her actions.

She groans dramatically, throwing her head back. “It’s a company policy or some shit, I don’t know.”

“I mean, we have a design course at the university, I’m sure I could-”

“Oh my god, please. We need someone hired like yesterday, and the boss is seriously dragging her feet. If you could get someone here who can start right away, you’d be a life-saver.” She grabs you by the shoulders, giving you a small shake to get her point across.

“Yeah, I can try to pull some strings tomorrow,” you grin.

As it would turn out, two of the seven novels were ones you shadowed Yuki on, and one was the first novel you worked on by yourself. Which is to say, you would have nothing to show for your entire internship if things fell through with this client.

So basically, you had until Thursday to get someone in, because the client was getting impatient of the excuses being thrown their way.

You’d asked your friends at lunch if they knew anyone and even skipped class on Wednesday afternoon in an effort to talk to as many of the professors that even slightly suited the industry as you could, building up a small page of potential student and graduate contacts.

Three didn’t reply. Four were too busy to take on seven covers in the span of a couple of days. Nine couldn’t start for two weeks and even then, they would need to weigh their options.

There’s one other person who occurs to you, but that can’t be your last option, right?

Sitting and staring at your laptop, you dial Shoko’s number.

“Don’t kill me,” you start when she picks up, tapping your fingers on your desk as you put your phone on speaker.

“Should I want to?” She asks, and you can practically hear her raised brow.

“So, you know how our graphic designer left?”

“Yeah, the girl who cooks bacon in the break room,” her voice comes across the line filled with static, but you’re still able to make out her words.

“Yeah, that’s the one. So, I guess she disappeared last week and we’re behind on seven covers.”

“Right, so outsource.”

Ugh. “That’s what I said! I guess it’s against policy, we have a strict rule of everything being done locally.”

“Okayyyy… So outsource locally.”

You groan, leaning over your desk. The seconds tick by in silence before you finally raise your head again. “Did you happen to meet any artists in the last five hours?”

“Can’t say I did,” she laughs. “Sorry.”

The line goes silent as you contemplate telling her your thoughts, but she beats you to it.

“So, why am I killing you anyway?”

“I know an artist,” you tell her.

“Well shit, why didn’t you just start with them?”

You tap your fingers across your desk rhythmically. So loudly in fact, that you’re almost certain that she can hear the motion.

Her tone drops to a more serious one and you can see the warnings written across her face, even over the phone.

“No. Fuck, no. You just got over him.”

“Do I have a choice, Sho?” You lean on your elbow, continuing to tap mindlessly on the desk.

“What do you-? Yes, he doesn’t deserve the chance.”

“Maybe not, but what else am I supposed to do?”

“Shit, I don’t know, find someone on Fiverr?” She suggests.

You groan into the sleeve of your hoodie. “I tried.”

“You’re cooked if you already tried that,” she sighs. “Can’t you just let these covers fall through? What’s the big deal?”

You explain the situation, to which Shoko only manages a meager ‘oh’, and is forced to listen to you groaning over her phone’s speaker again.

“So, would you kill me?”

“No, but Kento will.”

“I knowww,” you grumble, but what choice are you left with? Unless someone else pulled through, you’re out of options. Silence hangs between you, although you know Shoko’s still there when you hear shuffling. “I don’t believe in fate, but if I did,” you hold up your pinky as though your best friend can see it. “Sukuna and I are tied together.”

“I don’t like that analogy,” she chuckles dryly. “It’s more like he’s a fly you can’t get to go away.”

“That’s just mean,” you grumble.

She chuckles dryly. “Don’t defend him.”

“It wasn’t just his fault this time,” you remind her.

“Maybe. But he had enough chances. This is just for work, yeah?” Though she’s inquiring, there’s an air of assurance to her words, as though she’s trying to get you to agree. Because that’s exactly what she’s doing.

“Just for work.”

Well, fuck.

Now you need to contact Sukuna.

–

There’s no emotion on Sukuna’s face as he watches his youngest brother take the most neon purple washable (hopefully) marker and color in between the tattoos he’s drawn on in black ink. He can’t blame the kid for getting bored, it’s too cold to play basketball and Sukuna’s hardly had time to draw something for him to color.

At least, that’s what he tells himself. It’s easier to admit than to say he’s spent too much time wallowing in self-pity to draw for his little brothers. He could only work a handful of times throughout the week, nearly full-time at the auto shop during school hours for his brothers, then evenings would be spent going over homework and projects, cooking, cleaning, entertaining the kids, getting them ready for bed… it’s an exhausting list, the more he thinks about it.

To think, you did it all without ever expecting anything in return. Just friendship. Those last words you spoke to him and the look on your teary-eyed face burned into the recesses of his brain.

It’s been so long since he’s seen you, and yet his days are so full that it feels like just yesterday.

Or maybe that’s just because the days seem to blend together for him. He can’t even recall the last time he was able to do something for himself. Art had taken a backburner, his diet bent to the will of two picky young kids, and his showers were scarcely as long as a commercial to cut back on water.

He supposes he’s been keeping up with his workout routine, but at this point he’s pretty sure if he stops, he’ll end up laid out on the bathroom floor again. His nightly workouts are the only thing keeping his sleep schedule in any semblance of working order, quite literally burning every last ounce of energy until he passes out.

You and Toji have gone radio-silent. Which makes sense, he didn’t expect anything less. Atsuya was never overly chatty with Sukuna one way or another and Uraume checks in and offers to watch his brothers, but like the grumpy brute that he is, he can’t bring himself to accept. He’s not sure whether that’s out of guilt or fear. Guilt towards how he treated you, and a fear that he may do the same to Uraume.

“Kunaaaaaa! You never listen!”

He blinks at the grating sound of Yuji practically in his ear, swatting at the boy with a grimace.

“Fuckin’ stop, I heard you,” he snarls, holding a hand over his ear at the close proximity of Yuji’s shrill cry.

“If you heard me, then what’d I say?”

Oh. So Sukuna didn’t hear him.

He lets out a long sigh. “Sorry, brat. What’d you say?”

“I said I’m not sleeping tonight.”

Sukuna’s brow raises. “What?”

“Becauuuuse the new Mario game comes out tonight!! At midnight!” Yuji happily proclaims.

Sukuna shoots a glance at Choso, who’s busy at the kitchen table typing away on Sukuna’s laptop for one of his classes. “So?” He asks as he turns his attention back to the endless supply of energy that is his brother. It’s not like they have any current gaming systems.

“So I need to stay up so I can watch it on YouTube!”

“Absolutely not,” Sukuna shuts down the idea, much to Yuji’s dismay as he whines, tugging on the burly man’s hoodie sleeve.

“PLEAAAAAAAASE!” Yuji pleads, tugging against Sukuna with as much of his body weight as the five-year-old can put into it. “Pleasepleasepleaseplease-”

“Enough!” Sukuna barks, shutting down Yuji’s pleas. “As soon as your brother finishes his homework, you’re both goin’ to bed.”

Yuji shoots Choso a pointed look, but the middle brother’s hardly paying attention, the act of working on his homework little more than mechanical. Sukuna knows that, because he thinks he fucked up.

Again.

His first meeting with the top lawyer Hiromi had recommended had taken place at the apartment the other day, at Sukuna’s request, for ease of looking after his brothers. Luckily she was sympathetic to his situation and agreed, discussing what would take place at the proceedings and what she needed from Sukuna aside from the documents he’d already provided. Sukuna had left out the portion where he’d gotten advice from a student, of course.

With the discussion, however, came the realization that Choso was hardly a room away during the discussion of the possibility of social workers conducting a house study. It wouldn’t be Sukuna’s first time having social workers in the house, but that’s exactly why he fears the way Choso’s personality has dulled again.

He’d gotten better. Sukuna isn’t sure exactly what you did, but life had flowed back into his brother’s world. It was gradual, just little moments of genuine happiness at first, before he caught Choso smiling at a bird on the walk home from school. Asking for help on assignments. Defending Yuji when Sukuna got a little too frustrated with the five-year-old.

And it all came crumbling down at once. He knew it had to do with the meeting with the lawyer, but it didn’t make it any easier. Yuji had noticed it too. Even now, as he stares at Choso, hoping the older Itadori will defend him, Choso hasn’t bothered to look up from his work. Whether he’s completely oblivious to his brothers watching him or simply can’t be bothered to care, Sukuna isn’t certain.

Most of the legal consultation would have flown over any kid’s head, even Choso’s, but social workers? That was a term Choso knew all too well. And if he had to pinpoint something that might have shut the dark-haired kid down, he figured that had to be it.

It didn’t matter how many years passed, Sukuna will never forget the way he failed Choso the day of their house study following the passing of their father. He relives it in his nightmares from time to time, serving as a constant reminder of his fuck-ups.

Sunlight filters through the frosted window behind the shower as Sukuna pushes his hair back from his forehead, slick with sweat. He holds himself up over the sink, washing his mouth out as best as he can and brushing his teeth.

The dark circles under his eyes may as well be shadows given how much weight he’d lost. He can’t keep food down long enough to gain any of his muscle mass back, he’d become little more than a shadow of his former self.

Balling his hand into a fist, he grits his teeth and pushes to his full height, staring at someone he doesn’t recognize. The man, barely more than a child himself, looking back at him wasn’t suited to look after kids. Yet he’d been forced to put in a petition to take guardianship when his father’s will had listed no one to look after the kids and their mother was absent.

Sukuna wipes his mouth on the back of his hand, swallowing hard and sucking in a deep breath. Yuji will wake up any second now. Choso will want breakfast. Sukuna will be forced to bend over backwards to satiate their needs, to take care of the two people who look the most like his late father and absent step-mother.

It’s a haunting feeling, to see those that are gone in people you care about.

It’s a feeling that Sukuna can’t escape, that grips him by the throat as he struggles to differentiate the people he loves from the people he’s lost.

Does that make him a sorry excuse for a guardian? Maybe. Does it make him a sorry excuse for a brother? Definitely.

He coughs into his elbow, wiping perspiration from his neck and washing his hands once more. It seems no matter how many times he washes them, he can’t escape the feeling that he’s a shitty brother. A shitty brother who can hardly bear to look at his brothers, as though everything that’s happened is their fault.

He resents himself for it, every minute of every day.

He’d give anything to bring their father back. He’d know what to do. He always did.

Sukuna lets out a breath as he pushes through the washroom door after throwing a plain black V-neck on over his head and a pair of beige joggers. He makes his way to the kitchen, pulling open the fridge door and staring blankly at the ingredients sitting within. Leftovers from- what? A week ago? Yogurt, eggs, a half-empty can of tuna that’s been there long enough that his nose is wrinkling just from opening the fridge and-

A bang from the other side of the house- a house filled with memories turned dreary, too big for the three current inhabitants- catches Sukuna’s attention. He shuts the fridge door with more force than intended, scowling as he languidly trudges across his father’s house. Pushing open the door, the Sukuna finds Choso in the kid’s bedroom, with the vacuum in pieces across the floor, the main compartment imploded in a cloud of dust that now litters the carpet.

It takes every ounce of self-control that Sukuna has left to keep his voice (mostly) even as he mutters “what’re you doing?”

Choso guiltily shuffles in place, avoiding Sukuna’s sharp crimson stare. “Trying to help,” he whispers, fiddling with his fingers.

Sukuna lets out a huff. “Well, don’t,” he grumbles, getting ready to turn away.

“But- the social workers-”

The- oh. Oh, fuck.

Clearing his throat, Sukuna turns back towards his little brother, a pained expression on his exhausted face. “Is that today?”

Choso nods.

Fuck. FUCK.

There’s no food in the house. The kitchen is a downright mess, Yuji could wake up in a mess of sobs that Sukuna hardly knows how to handle at any moment, the living room is piled high with laundry that Sukuna had the energy to wash but not fold, and now… Sukuna rubs his hands harshly down his face, peeking through his fingers only to stare at the dust.

What time are they coming? Did he even write it down? He can’t remember.

“When, uh-”

“Ten.”

Sukuna pulls his phone from his pocket. Nine.

Fuck.

“I cleaned Yuji and I’s rooms and shut dad’s-” Choso begins, getting down on his knees to start brushing up the dust from the collapsed vacuum as best as he can with his hands.

“Stop- stop,” Sukuna instructs, pulling his brother away from the pile of dust. “Go wash up.” He instructs, watching the little boy guiltily nod. How old is he? Nine? Sukuna doesn’t remember, but as the little boy jogs out of his room to wash his hands leaving Sukuna alone, another wave of nausea washes over him.

He could wretch at the mere mention of their father. He coughs, his throat raw and dry as he stares at the pile of dust.

His nine year old brother cleaned the damn house because Sukuna couldn’t. Sukuna couldn’t get his shit together enough to get the house in order for the social worker.

The pace that his chest rises and falls grows irregular as he stares at the dust, wasting time as the minutes pass by. He needs to do the laundry, the dishes-

He looks down at himself, at the V-neck that he’s pretty sure Yuji spit on. He doesn’t remember anymore. Did he wash this shirt? Was that another one that Yuji spit on? What’s the stain on his shoulder?

Stumbling out of Choso’s room, Sukuna heads to the kitchen in a manic blur, staring at all the dishes piling up in the sink and across the counter and table.

Maybe the laundry will be less daunting.

He makes his way to the living room, only to find that Choso has taken care of that too, everything is folded about as well as a nine-year-old can manage, an uneven stack of shirts sitting alongside Sukuna’s pants, though it looks like Choso and Yuji’s clothes have already been put away.

His chest tightens, like an anvil pressing its full weight on his ribs. He can’t breathe.

The door clicks as his brother leaves the washroom and Sukuna waits with shaking hands for his brother to leave. He can’t see Sukuna like this. Sukuna’s supposed to take care of him, why is it Choso that’s taking care of him? The kid’s hardly spoken a word to him since Jin’s passing, and yet he’s keeping track of the house study and making cereal for himself just so that Sukuna doesn’t have to. 

A nine-year-old shouldn’t have to step up. Especially not one who's just lost both parents. Hell, he may as well have lost his brother too, because Sukuna’s not sure he’s still the same man. One could hardly call Sukuna’s routine as of late ‘living’. Sukuna’s heard the kid crying long into the night, sobs muffled by his pillow and two walls, but he doesn’t know what to do anymore.

They cried together so long in the hospital that the shock of Choso’s mom not replying hit Sukuna in a way he wasn’t prepared for.

Sukuna’s hand trembles as he tries to shut the washroom door without alerting Choso. He collapses in front of the toilet, keeling over the bowl weakly. His hair sticks to his forehead again as he leans over, but there’s nothing left in his stomach to throw up.

He heaves and coughs, groaning as his throat stings with the effort. Leaning back, he stares at the ceiling. What had he become? How had things gotten to this point?

Sukuna had goals, he had hopes and dreams, and now they’d been crushed in favor of keeping two kids alive.

Could he even hope to make them happy when he was struggling just to keep them fed?

Hell, he’s struggling to keep himself fed lately.

He was nearly out of money already after the cost of lawyers and the funeral, he needed to get a job. But how was he meant to do that if he couldn’t even put laundry away?

He pulls his phone out, his thumb swiping through apps as if on auto-pilot, clicking on contacts, swiping through letters until he reaches ‘J’. His thumb clicks on instinct and he holds it up to his ear. It rings once, twice, three times. On the fifth, he reaches an answering machine.

“Hey, it’s Jin! Thanks for giving me a call, I’m not around right now but please leave a message!” Followed shortly by a mechanical “this user’s mailbox is full”. The call cuts out and the salmon-haired man pauses for a moment before he leans forward on his knees.

How is he meant to do this? Was this really what his dad wanted for him? No, he can’t think like that. Sukuna grits his teeth, his cheeks hot with tears. He’d left so many messages that will forever go unanswered. With one hand gripping his phone with white knuckles and another buried in his sweat-laden hair, he sits there for longer than he can afford, waiting for his body to relax enough to catch his breath. That time never comes, his chest remaining tight, but he can’t afford to sit here any longer.

Nine thirty.

He pushes himself up off the floor, flipping his head back to keep his hair from his face, and pushes out of the washroom once more this morning. The door slams on its hinges as he rushes into the kitchen, shaky hands moving clean dishes from the dishwasher and into cabinets. Every movement is on instinct, nothing done deliberately as he struggles to keep himself in the right mind for a house study.

How the fuck is he supposed to pass?

“Kuna? I- I found a broom, I’m gonna-”

Choso jumps as Sukuna’s thrown off by his brother’s voice, a plate colliding with the counter and shattering across the ground.

“Fuck!” Sukuna barks, staring down at his hands. A shard of ceramic is embedded into the heel of his left palm, blood seeping out around it. He stares down at the mess at his feet, gripping the counter with his right hand to steady himself.

“Kuna? Are you okay?” Choso asks weakly, his voice hoarse from a lack of use.

“Yeah, uh-” Sukuna can’t bear to look at his brother, his gaze glued to the blood that pools in his palm. “The broom. Can you bring it here? Just- just stay away from the glass.”

The sound of light footsteps gradually fades and Sukuna carefully maneuvers around the mess to the sink, shakily dislodging the ceramic from his skin. Flipping the sink on, he watches the crimson pour into the sink as he runs his hand under warm water, reaching blindly to the drawer that should have bandages. He pulls them out, fumbling with the packaging and settling the bandage over his palm.

Carefully moving away from the glass, he slips on shoes and waits for his brother to drag the broom over. Choso watches as he sweeps up the remaining pieces of the plate, before the boy busies himself with moving the piles of clothing on the couch into Sukuna’s room now that he knows his brother is awake. Spotting movement out of the corner of his eye, Sukuna’s head whips around to Choso.

“Stop. I can handle it.”

Choso pauses, examining Sukuna silently. “I can help-”

“No!” Sukuna growls, dumping the dust pan of shards into the trash before flipping to face Choso. “I can handle it. It’s- It’s not your job.”

Choso’s lips purse as he evaluates Sukuna’s words. He doesn’t believe his older brother.

Is that really the world Sukuna lives in? That his younger brother feels the need to take care of him?

Is he that much of a mess?

Sukuna wipes perspiration from his forehead with the back of his arm, turning back to the dishes and moving quickly to feign being alright.

He just has to make it through the day.

Yuji’s cries blare very suddenly through the house, piercing Sukuna’s ears and he grits his teeth.

He just has to make it through the day.

Setting down a clean plate, he’s in Yuji’s nursery before he can even process what’s happening. He stares blankly for a moment at the crying baby, sharply inhaling. The spitting image of his father. Reaching out, he pulls the child carefully into his arms.

“Stop crying, Yu,” Sukuna mutters softly, staring blankly at the crib and patting the child’s back. It’s his best attempt at comfort in his current state. “Please stop crying,” he begs, feeling his eyes burn himself.

He probably needs food, right? Sukuna can manage that, he thinks. There’s still eggs. He knows Yuji likes scrambled eggs.

The child continues to cry even as Sukuna bounces a little more dramatically as he walks to try to soothe the child. He swallows down any semblance of uncertainty as he makes his way back to the kitchen.

Even as Yuji cries, Sukuna’s gait stutters at the entry to the kitchen, where Choso has snuck back in to continue cleaning the dishes. The oldest brother’s jaw trembles as he inhales slowly, his mind blank. Has Choso been taking care of chores this often? Has he not even noticed?

His eyes are hot and he averts his gaze. He doesn’t have time to fight with Choso.

Setting the baby in his high-chair, Sukuna moves quickly to open the fridge and pull out the eggs.

Egg.

There’s one egg.

He shoots a glance at Choso, who’s shutting the dishwasher beside him.

Choso can have something else, right?

Yeah, cereal. Right.

He pulls out milk alongside the egg, his jaw going slack as he reads the date. It expired today. Surely it’s still alright, right?

Unscrewing the cap, he holds the carton up to his nose and it wrinkles, his lip curling in disgust.

Okay. That’s fine.

He dumps out the rest in the sink.

Yogurt. He can have… yogurt.

What a sorry excuse for a meal. What a sorry excuse for a guardian.

Sukuna stands silently for a moment, contemplating his decisions. Maybe the kids would be better off without him. Maybe they would be better off in the foster system with a pair of adults who can take care of them. Someone equipped for this.

But what if they got separated? What if-

“I can have, um, chicken fingers,” Choso mumbles as he comes up behind Sukuna.

Sukuna swipes his tongue over his lips, opening the freezer. It’s more full than the fridge. That’s an alright option. He pulls them out, beginning to prepare food for both kids as Yuji continues bawling in his chair.

“Give your brother some yogurt while I cook,” Sukuna mumbles, passing the container off to Choso, who nods.

To Sukuna’s relief, the child sniffles and stops crying as Choso quietly spoons yogurt straight from the container. Facing the frying pan with the egg in it, Sukuna shuts his eyes in relief at the silence, a semblance of control returning, even if only for a second.

He casts a glance at the stove. Nine fifty seven. Three minutes.

Finishing up cooking and slipping the chicken into the oven, he sets a small plate on the table, sitting alongside Yuji and blowing on the scrambled eggs to ensure they aren’t too hot. He spoons it into the bumbling child’s mouth, only to sigh when there’s a knock at the door.

Sukuna is so grossly underprepared for this house study. He knows it’s standard procedure in cases like this, just court-ordered motions, but in truth, Sukuna doesn’t think he deserves to be a guardian to either of the kids.

The question of whether he wants this has been rattling around in his head so frequently that he feels a constant guilt. Because he doesn’t. He loves his brothers, of course he does, there’s no question in that. But he doesn’t want this. He’s never wanted this.

Standing in front of the door, he sucks in a breath and puts on his best attempt at a mild expression, leaving a hand over his shoulder to cover the stain that he’s fairly sure is spit from Yuji. Or worse. He doesn’t want to think about it.

A man with short salt-and-pepper graying hair stands outside the door in a nice, long black coat. He wears a pair of deep blue slacks and a white button-up beneath. His pale blue eyes slide along the length of Sukuna’s jaw, silently evaluating his face tattoos.

Is that strike one before he’s even said hello?

Still, the man extends his hand with a carefully mediated smile. He introduces himself as the social worker for Sukuna’s case, goes over the purpose of the visit, and requests access to the home for his evaluation. Sukuna swallows hard and moves aside, letting the man in.

He’s quick to run his evaluating gaze around the front entryway. It’s a bit of a mess, but surely that’s not a big deal.

Surely.

Sukuna clears his throat, mumbling out a “come on in,” as he makes his way into the house. It’s clean enough, there’s no hazards that could put the kids in danger, and Yuji is eating as Choso scoops eggs into his mouth. The social worker evaluates the scene and nods, clearly satisfied that there’s food on the table.

“Mind if I take a look around?”

Sukuna nods in acceptance before trailing a short distance behind the man. He does a walkthrough of the kitchen first, his watchful gaze darting over the counter, to the sink that Sukuna notes he should have cleaned up the scraps sitting in it, and eventually grabs the fridge door handle.

Sukuna winces as he pulls it open and frowns.

“We’re going shopping, uh, today,” Sukuna offers, clearing his throat. “The kids are picky,” he gruffs, scratching at the back of his neck.

That’s definitely a strike, regardless.

Shutting the door, he proceeds to look through the pantry before evaluating the living room, which has gone relatively untouched since Jin got sick, leaving it under a layer of dust, but otherwise clean. The social worker doesn’t appear to think much of it, moving on as he points towards the other side of the house.

“Can you show me to the kids’ rooms?”

Sukuna nods, blazing past his dad’s old room as fast as he can without coming across as suspicious, though he simply can’t bear to look at it. The pink-haired man shuffles on his feet as he waves his hand at the nursery and Choso’s room. He takes a couple of minutes in the nursery, which is likely the cleanest room in the house, re-emerging to take a look at Choso’s room.

“How old is the older of the two?”

Sukuna swallows. Is this a test? “Nine.” He’s nine, right?

The man hums, looking around at the Pokemon plushies and the giant Avocado Squishmallow on the bed. His eyes land on the remnants of the dust pile from the exploded vacuum, and Sukuna stumbles over his words to explain the stain.

“My vacuum broke, just before you got here,” Sukuna explains, clearing his throat. “Uh, it’s on the grocery list.”

The man hums. Is that another strike? How many is Sukuna allowed?

Should he even be hoping he passes this? Is this what’s best for his brothers?

Sukuna lets out a shaky breath, idly scratching at his chest as though the weight crushing his lungs might go away if he does.

The social worker continues on his way, peeking at a closet with cleaning supplies, evaluating the fairly empty backyard, and casting a glance into the washroom. Once he’s done evaluating those, he makes his way back to the open-concept living and dining room.

“Do you mind if I ask a few questions?”

Sukuna nods, taking a seat on the couch in tandem with the worker. Sukuna sits as straight as he can manage, his bouncing leg going unnoticed by the tattooed man. The social worker casts his leg a glance, but says nothing as he pulls out a notepad.

“What’s your relationship to the children?”

“Brother. Uh- step-brother.”

He jots down Sukuna’s reply. “What’s your financial situation like?”

“I need to get a job, but we’re living off the estate of my father.”

The social worker nods, prattling off more questions about the needs of the kids, medical care, questions about Sukuna himself and his background, as well as his experience with kids. Sukuna’s fairly certain he barely skirts by with his responses, but his mind goes blank with the next question.

“How will you handle the emotional needs of your brothers?”

Sukuna stays silent for a moment too long, before choking out “... emotional needs?”

The social worker sits forward. “You’ll be with them throughout all, if not most, of their developmental stages. You need to ensure they’re cared for emotionally and feel secure. Emotional stability is extremely important for young children,” he explains.

Sukuna swallows hard.

Is this already a strike? What the fuck is he supposed to say? He’s too depressed, too manic himself, to even begin thinking about the emotional needs of his brothers and how he, of all people, is supposed to provide that. As it stands, he’s pretty sure he’s already neglected Choso’s emotional needs.

“I, uh-” Sukuna stammers, casting a glance at the bandage on his palm. That was- what-? Thirty minutes ago? Why does it feel like ages ago? Why can’t he think straight?

Sukuna’s jaw trembles and he swallows. Fuck, he can’t breathe again. Bile gathers at the back of his throat. He wants to vomit. 

“Kuna loves us,” Choso chimes in suddenly, the little boy’s quiet voice interrupting Sukuna’s spiralling thoughts. “He’s the best big brother, he makes me happy.”

Sukuna damn near chokes. His eyes are hot with tears and he rubs furiously at them to prevent any from falling down his cheeks as Choso speaks up, practically saving his ass. Sukuna’s throat tightens as he leans forward on his knees. Does Choso really feel that way? Or is he feigning happiness for the social worker?

Sukuna chances a glance backwards to his little brother, examining the look on his face. Choso’s eyes are sunken, he’s tired. He’s become a shadow of his former self, much like Sukuna, and the oldest knows that he’s contributed to the anguish Choso feels. Yet still, the little boy has leapt to his defense. He’s kept the house in order, fed himself, and helped to take care of Yuji.

Now he’s taking care of Sukuna, too. Sukuna isn’t sure whether he’s more pissed that his nine-year-old brother is looking after him, lost because a child is handling things better than him, or shocked that Choso’s coming to his defense at all given how shitty Sukuna’s been. He’s failed Choso at every turn, yet the boy never seems to hold it against him and that kills Sukuna.

Regardless, the social worker seems pleased with that response. “Seems you already have things in order. Do you mind if I have a chat with your little brother?”

“Go for it,” Sukuna barely manages to whisper, lost in his thoughts.

“Great. We’ll review the documents after.”

How long Sukuna sits there staring at Choso as he types up his homework, he couldn’t tell you. The only reason he’s snapped back to the present and pulled from his thoughts is from the hoarse “I’m done,” that Choso manages as he hands Sukuna his laptop to take a look at his writing.

Sukuna stares blankly at Choso, holding his laptop in one hand. Did Sukuna ever deserve to look after these kids?

Is Sukuna at that stage again? Has he gotten as bad as he was when he first started looking after his brothers?

It’s been so long since the ordeal with the social workers, since Sukuna spent most of his time laid out on the bathroom floor or curled up in bed with freezing hands and a burning throat, and yet… Has he changed at all? Is he any better?

You may have reassured him that the kids love him, that he’s a good guardian, and yet… he’s still not so sure. Not after he failed you, Yuji and Choso.

God. Poor Choso.

Whatever piece of Sukuna died back when Jin passed away, Sukuna could feel it beating and thriving once more with your arrival in his life. Now, though, it’s gone again. Its departure went hand-in-hand with that same light in Choso’s life.

And in the aftermath of his own self-destruction, he’d pushed away Toji too. Again. He’d never really let him back in, but as Sukuna sits frozen in place staring at his brother, he sees the sum of his mistakes staring back at him. A child who Sukuna hasn’t been able to provide for in terms of emotional needs.

You had. You were so, so good with Choso and Yuji. You were an angel.

Sukuna can’t help but wonder what the fuck is wrong with him as he realizes that in his frozen state, his brothers are both staring at him with worried brows. Great, now the five-year-old is concerned for him too.

Snapping out of it, Sukuna clears his throat and pulls the laptop onto his legs, reading through Choso’s evaluation on some iceberg in the Antarctic ocean. He makes a couple of grammatical fixes, before handing it back. Not a single word sticks with Sukuna, but he nods. “Looks good,” he tells Choso, running a hand through his pink locks.

Choso takes the laptop back and sends the document to his teacher before handing it back to Sukuna. The oldest brother idly stands by as the two kids get ready for bed, and it’s not until they’re tucked in that Sukuna’s mind really starts running again.

He stares down at his hands, running his thumb over the small scar he’d gotten on the day the social worker arrived. It’s barely noticeable, but it serves as a reminder of that day, of the smashed plate, and of Choso’s words. A nine-year old stepped up, because the adult couldn’t.

Sukuna can’t help the thought that for all the pride and ego he tries so hard to protect, for wanting to prove himself as a guardian, on his own, he’d failed on every account. At every turn, he’s only ever met with endless failures.

Failures that he dragged you into.

It’s not that he didn’t expect your departure to hurt- after all, he’s failed you once already- but it only seemed to jumble his mind further. At least with Choso and Yuji, he understands his frustrations. At least he knows what he’s feeling and has an outlet in his art and workouts to work through those emotions.

You, though- you’re a variable he hadn’t anticipated. Your loss weighs heavy on him, on his heart, and he doesn’t know how to unpack that. Losing you had been the final nail in the coffin that solidified two things with Sukuna.

The first- wherever it is (was) that you stand with Sukuna, that feeling can’t be replaced. Not by workouts, or distractions, or anything else he can muster to stop his mind from spiralling. You hold a place within him, within his heart, that he can see now and if he weren’t so stupid, he might not have lost you. You hurt him, sure, but he doesn’t think he cares anymore. He doesn’t even mind that he doesn’t understand what exactly the place that you hold within him is, he just knows that you’re there.

And the second- Sukuna is a coward. He’s a downright coward and a dumbass who can’t bring himself to fix his mistakes because he can’t bear the idea of dragging you back into his problems.

Sukuna was wrong.

The worst part is that his brothers ask constantly about you. Hell, he’s had to email a fake address just to placate them, and formulate your answers on his own. The amount of times he’s read through your emails to replicate your tone only serves as further harm to his mental state, weighing heavy on his heart. Both his lies towards his brothers and his mistakes with you cut at his emotions.

He was foolish to think he could manage everything on his own. Foolish to think he could manage without Uraume’s help, without the kind old woman across the hall’s help, but especially without your help.

You didn’t just watch the kids. You made them better people, you taught them valuable lessons, you were there for them emotionally. You were there for him, and he took you for granted.

You were the first person since Jin passed that made Sukuna feel human again.

Balling his hands into fists, he huffs and picks up a weight. He’ll work out until he passes out, airpods in if it only means that he can keep his mind off the things that make his chest tighten. It’s his only release from the stress of each day.

He’s about an hour into working out when his phone lights up with a call. A call that he has half a mind to think he’s hallucinating with the state of mind he’s found himself in.

His hand hovers over the green button as though it might disappear when he blinks, because there’s no world where you give him another chance. Hell, he doesn’t deserve it and he’s willing to admit that now.

Pressing down on the button, he remains silent for a moment before pulling the phone up to his ear. His breath is coming in puffs and pants due to his workout as he barely manages to squeeze out your name.

“Hey, Sukuna.”

Sukuna. He thinks he hates when you call him that. He’s grown so used to your nickname for him that he prefers it.

“Hey,” he grunts, how brow furrowed. His eyes trail the length of his room until they land on his drawing table. Strewn across the top are his sketches of you, before he managed to draw the one he was happy with, the one he gave you. He’s not even sure what spurred him to do that for you, it just felt right.

It feels like years have passed since then.

“So, um, listen,” you start, an air of nervousness to your voice, still so saccharine sweet. “One of my colleagues disappeared last week, and she left behind this whole pile of work-” you hesitate again, leaving Sukuna only to listen with his brows knit together. “- sorry, uh- she was our graphic designer and now we’re behind and we’re gonna lose a client if we don’t find a replacement like yesterday,” you groan, and he can practically hear the way you’re chewing on your lip. “I thought that, you know, with your art and all, that maybe you might…” You trail off, awaiting Sukuna’s response.

Sukuna’s brain takes a moment to catch up, still stuck on the fact that you’re reaching out.

“Sukuna?”

“Yeah, sorry,” he gruffs, sighing as he tries to make sense of what’s going on. “Why’re you offering this to me?” It doesn’t make sense, why would you come back after everything?

“Every book I’ve edited so far is missing a cover. If we don’t get a graphic designer to submit covers before Friday, we lose the client, and all of my work,” you explain.

Right. That… makes sense. You have no other reason to reach out to him and he owes you a favor. Bounds of them, actually.

“Sure.”

And he thinks he can live with being just a favor, if it’s to you. It brings him comfort to know that you’re not entirely out of reach anymore. He thinks he even feels his chest loosen just a bit.

“Really? Oh my god thank you, you have no idea how much of a huge favor this is, um-” you begin prattling off details of the job, but Sukuna’s hardly listening, too caught up on the sound of your voice. When did he get like this? Has he always been like this with you?

When did you carve yourself into his heart quite like this? A place meant only for you, one that no one else could replace. He can’t pinpoint a moment, but he hadn’t realized just how much he needed you. You’re his best friend. That has to be why he longs for your presence so badly, it’s the only explanation that makes sense.

Can he fix things?

“Can you meet up tomorrow morning?” You ask.

Sukuna grunts out a yes, giving you a time and place. The cafe he originally apologized at.

“And Sukuna?”

He pauses, waiting for you to continue.

“This doesn’t mean I forgive you.”

Sukuna’s throat tightens again. “Right,” he mutters. “See ya tomorrow.”

“See you.”

He stares at his screen for a long moment, swallowing hard. You don’t forgive him. He doesn’t blame you, but he has to try to get you to. For the kids’ sake.

He swipes his tongue over his dry lips, shaking his head.

No, he selfishly needs you to forgive him for his own sake.

–

You fiddle nervously in the early morning with the sleeves of your coat. You’re twenty minutes early to your meeting with Sukuna to go over details, but it couldn’t be helped. You can’t say you slept well with the stress of knowing your entire past month’s work relies on the same person you’re so nervous to see.

The cafe is quiet this early in the morning, having just opened. Only one employee has arrived, a woman around your age with a blonde bob in a pale brown apron. Her movements are deliberate as she moves syrup bottles and whipped cream around the counter into optimal places to keep the shop in a good working order.

The ringing of a bell catches your attention, and you think your heart may actually stop for a moment at the sight of Sukuna.

He’s still tall as ever, in his coveralls for work with a heavy black coat over them, but he looks leagues different from when you last saw him. You’ve never seen dark circles quite like what Sukuna’s got going on, his chin is dotted in stubble, and his hair is longer than you’ve ever seen it. Based on the way he shakes his head to get stray strands out of his vision, you can conclude that it’s bothering him, too.

You don’t need to know that he only shook his head in an effort to get himself to focus as all the air left his body upon simply seeing you.

He stops in front of the table, casting a glance at the shop’s counter. “Need a coffee. Want somethin’?”

You nod gingerly. “Yeah, um, just tea, please.”

Whatever words you had planned for this meeting seem to disappear into thin air as you watch him trudge over to the counter. After a short wait, he returns with your tea and his black coffee.

“So,” you begin, deciding to skip pleasantries in favor of keeping any emotions out of this. Strictly business. “I don’t know what the pay is, but my boss said you would be compensated extra for the first seven covers, since we’ll need them on a rush basis. Um-” You pause, pulling out your phone to show him examples of the style of covers you’ll need. They’re children’s books, similar to things he read in school as a child along the lines of The Magic Treehouse or Goosebumps. Coincidentally, Sukuna’s pretty good at that, he has experience.

Sukuna hums, not daring to interrupt despite the words dying to spill from his lips.

“They expect you to be in-office five days a week, but the hours are flexible and if you’re sick, then you technically can work from home,” you explain, staring at the ceiling as you go over any other minute details you can think of. After prattling off a few more details that Sukuna can’t possibly imagine actually matter, you realize you’re rambling and pause. “Oh, bring a portfolio and um- it’s business casual. So, um-”

Again, you pause. Sukuna sees it in your eyes, you’re debating whether you want to tell him what to wear. You’re afraid he’ll think you’re telling him what to do.

“Wear something nice, got it.”

You blink once before nodding, satisfied. “I’m there from eleven-thirty to five, so just, um- come anytime? Ask for me at reception. My boss knows you’re coming.”

Sukuna nods. “Be there after I pick up the kids.” He’s pretty sure Uraume shouldn’t be busy tonight based on the few texts they’ve exchanged, so he’s sure he can manage to get someone to watch his brothers.

Silence hangs heavy in the air, thick with unspoken thoughts. It’s clear that a conversation needs to happen between you if you’re planning on working together, but Sukuna’s had no time to go over the things he wants to say, having convinced himself he’d never get another chance with you.

“Well, um-”

“I’m sorr-”

Sukuna bites his tongue as he accidentally speaks at the same time as you. Your hand is splayed on the table like you’re ready to push yourself up and leave already and Sukuna sighs.

“Sorry. I’ll see you later,” he resigns to let you leave, leaning back in his chair. He figures if he can catch you a little more willing to chat and not so nervous later in the day, he might stand a better chance of appealing to you.

You swallow hard as you stare at him, tapping a finger on the table. “This is just business, okay, Sukuna? Consider this my repayment for all the favors.”

Sukuna’s throat is dry as he swallows hard, nodding. “Right. Repayment.”

Before you can be the subject of any more of the strange stares he’s giving you, you push up to your feet and excuse yourself without looking back.

Your heart is practically beating out of your chest as you leave the coffee shop, clutching your backpack’s strap tightly.

What the hell was that!? Why did he spend the whole time staring at you like- like that? You’d expected huffs and sighs and thinly veiled anger. You’d expected him to be furious with you, still. You’d thought that you were in a better headspace, ready to face him and not think twice about it, but now you’ve got a one hundred horse power heart pounding like it’s about to race the damn Monaco Grand Prix and your thoughts are beyond jumbled.

You thought you were over him enough that this wouldn’t affect you, that you could be professional and strict. Instead, you’d stumbled and rambled through so many words that you could hardly make sense of what you managed to get out and what you didn’t.

Regardless of your nerves, the real question is Sukuna.

Why was he so… uncharacteristically not Sukuna? What happened to the boastful man who demanded attention with his mere presence? It was as though he’d been reduced to little more than a background character in his own life, simply going through the motions.

Not to mention that stare…?

A pang of concern floods through you as you recall what he said about how he would have handled his mental health without you. You know it’s not your place to worry anymore, as decided by Sukuna himself, but you’re too kind not to. Maybe it’s naive of you, you’re sure Kento and Shoko would tell you so. Still, it’s in your nature to worry about those you care about.

And one thing can be said for certain- you still care about Sukuna.

main masterlist || series masterlist || previous chapter || next chapter

❦ a/n ; in case you missed it, i did some art for the series and i'd love if you checked it out here <33 hiiiii sorry this took so long 😩 health problems were the bane of my existence last week and i just couldn't sit at the computer wrong enough to write. but!! thank you all so much for all the well wishes, i'm doing much better now and it's back to business as usual. that flashback scene HURTTTT ngl. they were all so young :(( they still are. i love this lil family sm tbh ANYWAY sorry i'm really yapping down here ig but i just wanted to say thank you thank you so much for all the love. i know i've been gone for a bit, but all the kind words and constant love and excitement for the series always has me kickin my feet n smiling <33 i seriously love you all and you guys keep me motivated to keep up my writing. lots of love and sorry for the angst 🥲

❦ taglist ; OPEN. please comment here or on the masterlist if you would like to be tagged. age MUST be easily visible on your blog.

@yenayaps @rinachains @aiicpansion @fushitoru @gojoscumslut

@hellish4ever @kasukuna @theonlyhonoredone @catobsessedlady @timetoletmyimaginationfly

@clp-84 @coffee-and-geto @candyluvsboba @favvkiki @gojodickbig

@spindyl @ohmykwonsoonyoung @kyo-kyo1 @officialholyagua @coldluminarykoala

@ieathairs @cinnamxnangel @nessca153 @aerareads @after-laughter-come-tears

@tillaboo @thepassionatereader @erencvlt @v1sque @a-girl-with-thoughts

@lauuriiiz @blueemochii @paradisestarfishh @erenxh @call-me-doll8811

@toulouse365 @dabieater @janrcrosssing @satsattoru @moonchhu

@privthemis @captainsarcasmandsass @ryomeowie @vitoshi @kunasthiast

@axxk17 @toratsue @bluestbleu @yuji-itadori-fave @totallygyomeiswife

writing & format © starmapz. art © 3-aem. dividers © adornedwithlight & cafekitsune

[tojisun]

my baby swingin’ — simon (ghost) riley

biker!simon (ghost) riley x fem reader

> a bunch of snapshots of simon and his pretty little sweetheart’s adventures.

!! suggestive - minors dni; canon divergence; no chronological order (basically a bunch of loosely-tied worldbuilding); subtle and hinted age difference; reader gets princess treatment because she deserves it so!!

: im the one who’s the most confused as to how my obsession with biker!simon started but im stringing u along anyway so pls have fun!! my inbox is open for brainworms <33

for all posts, pls click on biker!simon tag <33

part 01 - intro post; headcanons

part 02 - simon can’t wait to come home to you

part 03 - getting over your fear of riding a bike

part 04 - lap sitting (a visual); ask

part 05 - simon and your first meeting; ask // extra 01

part 06 - little donuts at the park <;33

part 07 - simon’s instagram account (includes visuals); ask

part 08 - teasin’ each other on their way home; ask; suggestive

part 09 - body worship (a visual); ask; suggestive

part 10 - getting over your fear of riding a bike sequel! (a visual); ask

part 11 - mutual desperation spilling over; smut

part 12 - burning from all these messages; smut

part 13 - scary mask!! (a visual); ask

part 14 - of prince charming and care packages

part 15 - scary ghost? yes. protective ghost? yes <;33; ask

part 16 - safe drive!; ask

part 17 - simon and your first meeting cont.; ask; smut

part 18 - fun times on his bike; ask; smut

-

extra 02 - your nephew’s new favourite adult (a visual); ask

extra 03 - biker!konig makes an appearance!!! (a visual); ask

extra 04 - smack! smack! smack! (a visual); ask

extra 05 - picking up the backpack (a visual); ask

extra 06 - you don’t use it, you lose it; ask

extra 07 - price on a harley; ask

extra 08 - helmet kiss (a visual); ask

extra 09 - ‘girls cum first’ sweater (a visual); ask; smut

extra 10 - tf141 and their shared backpack princess; ask

extra 11 - period cramps and cuddling; ask

extra 12 - of checkpoint videos & dashing men (a visual); ask

extra 13 - no backpacks allowed (a visual); ask

extra 14 - he slipped!! (a visual); ask

extra 15 - her famous luvr; ask (a visual)

extra 16 - keys and kisses; ask

extra 17 - simon announcing his girl (includes visual!); ask

extra 18 - careful now (a visual); ask

extra 19 - they’re friends??

extra 20 - pretty blue lace; ask; smut

extra 21 - dad!simon (a visual); ask

extra 22 - lil smut (a visual); ask

extra 23 - riding on the rain (a visual); ask

extra 24 - girl dad simon; ask

extra 25 - gorgeous and protective (a visual); ask

extra 26 - zip that shit up (a visual); ask | recent!

-

dear john - dbf!simon

↳ for all toxic/dbf simon pls click on dbf!simon tag!!

toxic dad’s best friend biker!simon au; ask; angst + smut

‘dear john’: cont. of toxic dad’s best friend biker!simon au; ask; angst + suggestive

mini cont of dear john; ask

dear john (but it’s john price); ask

dear john (how he fucks); smut

dear john (as illicit affairs); ask; angst + smut

dear john (illicit affairs origin); angst + smut

dear john (illicit affairs origins but as reader); ask; angst + suggestive

dear john (reader moving on); ask | recent!

-

subset 01 - best friend n biker!simon au; ask

subset 02 - best friend n biker!simon au cont.

subset 03 - bimbo!reader

unofficial extra - baker!simon

-

i have a short taglist so pls lmk if you would like to be tagged too ^v^ no more taglist

(updated: 16 march 2024)

[polarisjisung]

LOVE ON THE COURT

SYNOPSIS | every college student has their struggles, but raising her younger brother has Y/N top of the list, struggling her way through college whilst balancing her academics and basketball captaincy is difficult no doubt and with Jaemin, her ex best friend and captain of the guys basketball team, and his growing one sided hatred towards her, it doesn't seem to be getting any easier

PAIRINGS | basketball player! jaemin x fem! basketball player

GENRE | (one sided) enemies to lovers, childhood best friends to lovers, college au, kinda forced proximity

WARNINGS | swearing, sexual innuendos, probably some kys jokes along the way, more tba!

STATUS | complete !

PROFILES [1] — [2]

MAIN STORY

00— pretty privilege [prologue]

01— choke me

02— poor soul

03— affirmations & apologies

04—sorry, kys

05— rumour has it

06—the plan

07 — taehyun from 3rd grade?

08 — bitchless and broke

09 — enemies to what??

10 — a sticky situation

11 — dinner date?

12 —birthday party

13 — the ningstinct

14 — pretty boy jeongie

15 — win her back

16 — loverboy #1 & #2

17 — steal your girl

18 — jeno's boyfriend

19 — deranged and in denial

20 — ...with benefits?

21 — homie hopping??

22 — ass backwards

23 – sugar daddy sim

24 — freaky flirting

25 — withdrawal

26 — princess jaem

27 —we dig the grave tonight

28 — thug it out

29 — not again

30 — the phonics of psychology

31 — betrayal.

32 — art thou shakespeare

33 — falling into place

34 — fuck around and find out

35 — lo$er = lo♡er

36 — brutal clarity

37 — regret

38 — last night was a movie

39 — hoe era

40 — my love all mine

41 — loverboy reject

42 —take her out

43 — MY boyfriend

44 —kiss on the court

bonus chaps tba!

taglist is now closed!

[cinnamanz]

— ✩♬ ₊˚. ONLY ON CAMERA ᝰ.ᐟ DANIELA AVANZINI

❝𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑,

𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐎𝐍 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐀.❞

when katseye's main dancer daniela avanzini accidentally throws shade at chart-topping singer y/n l/n on an interview, the internet erupts in chaos. with y/n already in hot waters with the press over her latest scandal, both their pr teams scramble for damage control. the solution? a 'picture-perfect' fake relationship to turn the headlines in their favor.

❝𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐖𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄,

𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐎𝐍 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐀.❞

tags .ᐟ smau, crack, fluff, one-sided hate, love-hate relationship, coarse language, suggestive themes, celebrity! au, sexual jokes, mentions of substances, highly toxic relationships, red flags, toxic ppl, angst sometimes, my writing (shite)

featuring .ᐟ katseye, p1harmony, enhypen, aespa n more celebs.

pairing .ᐟ daniela avanzini x female reader.

status .ᐟ completed— 21 jan 25.

notes .ᐟ this smau was made for fun and entertainment. it is not an actual portrayal of the people mentioned in this smau, nor are the photos used to portray y/n. let's just say that some kpop groups mentioned are living in california. y/n is lwk based off billie eilish. ignore timestamps. divider cred : @/mikeykuns.

❝𝐈𝐓 𝐌𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐈 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐄,

𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐎𝐍 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐀.❞

❝𝐃𝐎𝐍’𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐒,

𝐈 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐒.❞

PROFILES!

THANK YOU BEYONCÉ KATZEYE BY MEGAN KATZEYE BY MEGAN PT. 2

01. 2014 justin beiber but worse

02. zoo wee mama

03. DATING

04. not spiderman

05. yuri blunt

06. coffee

07. punching a wall

08. pr relationship in doubt

09. lunch

10. dickhead

11. schizophreniatitis

12. stronger than us

13. shade

14. dream... nightmare?

15. angel

16. solace

17. woman loving winner

18. peace

19. pretty cute

20. MY SHAYLA

21. want to know

22. come home

23. GOD PLEASE BRING OUR FAMILY BACK TOGETHER

24. FUCK MY DISGUSTING GAY LIFE

25. assthetic

26. count your days

27. welcome back princess diana

28. congratulations?

29. albums and pcs

30. licked my screen

31. pc gone missing

32. nutcase

33. welcome home

34. our baby

35. my passenger princess and her mami

36. save the dates

37. fam meeting

38. come home pt. 2

39. 3AM

40. heavy

41. wake up

42. what the hell, no

43. understand

44. not so weird psychotic way

45. accurate representation?

46. casual

47. children of divorce

48. yuri gods

49. messages

50. whoremembers

51. she

52. the end!

bonus! incorrect texts and tweets

™ CINNAMANZ 2025

— please do not repost, copy, translate, or take from my work in any way without permission. thank you! xx

[buryhny]

One Night Stand ; M.list

➥ rundown ; as if the unexpected twist of a one-night stand turning out to be your CEO boss wasn't surreal enough, the situation takes a more challenging turn when both of you discover that you're expecting his child.

→ genre ; enemies to lovers | CEO au | pregnancy trope | slowburn

☆ jungkook x y/n ☆ contains smut, fluff and angst

read chapters in Wattpad

| 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | 33 | 34 | 35 | 36 | 37 | 38 | 39 | 40 | 41 | 42 | 43 | 44 | 45 | 46 | 47 | 48 | 49 | 50

[svnnw]

WHEN YOU SMILE — mark smau

after barely passing your recent exam you're now desperately looking for someone to tutor you so your friends wouldn't worry about you and your grades.

or in which you find yourself making a deal with mark lee, a top students who seeks for your help. mutual benefit right?

fake boyfriend!mark x fem!reader

GENRE — fluff, angst, slowburn, comedy, humor, fake dating, non-idol au, college au

WARNINGS — a little bit of cursing, reader is kind of mean to mark, mark is REALLY nice, reader gets teased a lot, features other idols : xiaojun (nct); jaemin (nct); giselle (aespa); natty (kiof); haechan (nct); chenle (nct); ningning (aespa); minji (nwjns)

STATUS — ongoing

PLAYLIST — wildflower – billie eilish [02:14] ; sure thing – miguel [02:16] ; iris – the goo goo dolls [00:11] ; nobody gets me – sza [00:38] ; 200 – mark [01:04] ; godspeed – frank ocean [00:33] ; infrunami – steve lacy [00:32] ; intro (end of the world) – ariana grande [01:08] ; margaret – lana del rey [03:57] ; we can't be friends – ariana grande [02:27]

TAGLIST — open

A/N — soo excited for this smau especially because i've been wanting to post a mark smau for soo long!!

profile 1 || profile 2

1 ) how can you fail the easiest class

2 ) does this mean we're friends

3 ) just you wait

4 ) haechan's birthday party

5 ) officially fake dating

6 ) she's my friend

7 ) y/n is missing??

8 ) crazy fangirls

9 ) showing off while you're sleeping is crazy

10 ) does she hate me?

11 ) ILL FIGHT FOR YOU

12 ) i need advice

13 ) i guess i can forgive you..

14 ) mellowed out like crazy

15 ) YOU HAVE A SON???

16 ) bro tweets like a poet

17 ) why do i have to study even if i passed

18 ) this is a set up i just know it

19 ) 7 minutes in heaven

20 ) i bet his name starts with m and end with ark

21 ) i'd do anything to see her smile again

22 ) my angel

23 ) mark is down bad

24 ) it's not that important huh?

25 ) are you at a photoshoot

26 ) mark you're just jealous admit it

27 ) you're lowkey speaking facts..

28 ) this is what i call mandela effect

29 ) is that your secret man cave

30 ) my pretty angel

31 ) so was i ugly yesterday?

32 ) you're so easy to gaslight xiaojun..

33 ) what did i tell you?

34 ) since we're already here..

35 ) and that kids is how we kissed.

36 ) matching shirts with my new best friend

37 ) you've always been cute

38 ) crazy how you broke haechans record

39 ) so i'm that important to you?

40 ) you're a very socially awkward guy

41 ) just go and check twitter

42 ) i'm gonna rip my hair out

43 ) ARE YOU RUNNING AWAY??

44 ) WELL YOU THINK WRONG ❌

45 ) when you smile

bonus chapters :

who does he think he is?

dude yk i didnt mean it like that..

© svnnw

[overadores]

જ⁀➴°⋆ Love Me Like A Friend ୨ৎ Daniela Avanzini

“Every night you're sleeping in my bed”

“Every morning you're fucking with my head”

୨ৎ synopsis. When Katseye’s main dancer, Daniela Avanzini makes her debut, no one is aware of her secret friends-with-benefits arrangement with chart-topping producer and singer Y/N L/N—a relationship they’ve kept under wraps due to Daniela’s strict no-dating rule. However, as rumors circulate about Y/N’s supposed affairs with other women, and her enigmatic song lyrics appear to reflect Daniela’s mixed signals, tension starts to build. With public speculation intensifying and jealousy brewing behind closed doors, their closely guarded secret is on the verge of unraveling, compelling them to face what they truly mean to one another.

୨ৎ tags. fluff, crack, smau, little writing, friends with benefits, sexual jokes, mention of substance and alcohol, toxicity, red flags, tiny bit of angst, profanities, kys jokes, friends-lovers, suggestive themes.

୨ৎ pairing. daniela avanzini x producer!reader

୨ৎ guests. billie eilish. renee rapp. ph1 ( hwang intak ). enhypen ( lee heeseung ). katseye. other celebs.

"Every morning you love me like a friend"

୨ৎ status. ୨ৎ finished. (02-01-25)

୨ৎ author's note. This is an original work of smau, and is written for entertainment purposes only. Any names or characters, businesses or events or incidents, are fictitious and for the lore the place is going to be in Los Angeles. The characters identity have no relation to the actual persons/portrayers— and are solely based on the author's imagination. Don't bother looking at the timestaps 'cause it's not that important unless stated and also the face claim would be random masc peepz at pinterest so ctto. taglist is also open.

୨ৎ in queue never be the same - camila cabello, mgk; wicked games - kiana lede; into it - chase atlantic; echo - the marias; heaven - julia michaels; after hours - the weeknd; butterflies - denise julia; easy - haven, wild

୨ৎ profiles. gaybies pop dani-thology '25 pop dani-thology '25 2.0

୨ৎ chapters

01. hear me out

02. such a tease

03. win streak

04. spoil her too much

05. dropping by

06. my girl

07. stereotypical lesbian

08. any guess?

09. THE sabrina carpenter

10. GOT IT.

11. MIDNIGHT

12. in a relationship

13. lunch

14. jealous dani

15. infinity stones

16. just friends

17. lay low

18. surprise collaboration

19. perfect chemistry

20. are you even real?

21. can't with you

22. meet up again

23. short n' sweet

24. another pop base

25. jenna ortega

26. DANI OVULATING

27. are they dating?

28. TASTE MV

29. toxic

30. let her go

31. consecutive days

32. echo

33. its all over now

34. cure my boredom

35. simps in my tweets

36. pack it up

37. tsunami

38. is it really over?

39. make me fall in love again

40. dream

41. lovesick (the end!)

taglist: @sunshinez4 @haerinkisser @altaroflux @kristalag@1luvkarina @p1hbrook @xochitlisbest @peanutbutterlover05 @goofymickeyr @ourlovesarang @meizinisnumberone @linnnsworld @bandaidss320 @meiphobic @yeetaberry127 @urmom2314 @chaepu @leotapes @gtfoiydlyj @ratzeye @cassiespoiler @wtfisthisnoclueman @bowforgodjihyo @skz-xii (taglist closed)

[harquebuse]

2024.12.10

they're finally out! double-sided shaker charms & stickers ((ordered a sample, video coming soon 📹)) ↓↓ s h a k e r c h a r m preorder link below ↓↓ etsy.me/41pzhmQ ✬ preorders close 12-23-2024 ✫ orders go out 01-04-2024 ↓↓ v i n y l s t i c k e r s available now ↓↓ etsy.me/4fiJl4A ✫ orders go out every sat put up the og png's too bc these took -too- long. free use for anything non-commercial <33

[mercury101]

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14

15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28

29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | 33 | 34 | 35 | 36 | 37 | 38 | 39 | 40 | 41 | 42

43 | 44 | 45 | 46 | 47 | 48 | 49 | 50 | 51 | 52 | 53 | 54 | 55 | 56

57 | 58 | 59 | 60 | 61 | 62 | 63 | 64 | 65 | 66 | 67 | 68 | 69 | 70

71 | 72 | 73 | 74 | 75 | 76 | 77 | 78 | 79 | 80 | 81 | 82 | 83 | 84

Some items are direct links due to dead original pages or links. Let me know if i messed up with any of the links :)

Thank you to all cc creators🫶🫶 !!

@poisonfireleafs @sofayya @gruesim @editsim @tudart @y-dha-n @rollo-rolls @deniisu-sims @satellite-sims @bedisfull @rg-veda @tamo-sim @aroundthesims @aa6x7 @lilit666-posts @kijiko-sims @wanderlust-pixels @simmingwithsirens @i-like-teh-sims @joojconverts @shushilda

RUSTY Nail / smellslikepixeldolls / Momo / 77Sims / thorns-of-peace / Severinka / AB_Creations / TheNinthWave / Pu+chi / Screaming Mustard / Colores Urbanos / v-ware / Fili / LemonLeaf / altea127 / DOT / Esmeralda / Sims 3 Fashion Blog / Art-Sims

[jayflrt]

yours forever in 786

PAIRING ▸ private investigator!jay park x fem!reader

GENRES ▸ social media au (smau), smut, fluff, angst, mystery, drama, enemies to lovers au, college au, rich kid au

SUMMARY ▸ after being blackmailed into accepting an assignment, jay park, a young private detective, is thrown back into college. this time, though, he’s at an ivy league and tasked to follow you to uncover what dark secrets your old money family is hiding. in doing this, jay must fraternize with your inner circle by joining a secret society called the "order of kryptos.” what he doesn’t realize is that the deeper he gets into his mission, the more he starts to lose himself.

WARNINGS ▸ profanity, slowburn, alcohol/drug consumption, portrayals of addiction, sexual jokes, sexual content, betrayals!! backstabbing!!, toxic relationships, order of kryptos isn’t a real secret society but heavily inspired by the ivy league secret societies, emotional cheating (BOOOO! not from mc or jay tho), jay and mc have a small age gap (2 years), most of the characters are pretty toxic so please note that this is not attune to their real life personalities at ALL

UPDATE SCHEDULE ▸ every day

PLAYLIST ▸ fatal trouble by enhypen • still sane by lorde • this is what makes us girls by lana del rey • too good by troye sivan • paparazzi by lady gaga • old money by lana del rey • i was never there by the weeknd, gesaffelstein • prisoner by the weeknd, lana del rey

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ hello !! i’m back with another smau but this one’s less lighthearted and more heavy ? sort of an experiment let's see how it goes, but hope u enjoy and lmk what u think !! ♡

CHATROOMS !

TEASER

PROFILES ONE | TWO

ACT ONE: THE TRANSFER

01. skip tracer to millionaire pipeline

02. besties with testes

03. who the fuck is princessyuna

04. the world of the elite

05. please don't the tom nook

06. standing on business (vlog boycott)

07. friend (noun.) not heeseung

08. boo boo the fool

09. professional haters debut

10. 21 jump street for nepo babies

11. how to not bleed to death

12. jay/n train

13. leather jacket

14. no goodbye sucks or fucks

15. ugly truths

16. girlfriend but the girl is silent

17. justice for stress shitters

18. alcohol shortage when

ACT TWO: THE INVITATION

19. attention seeker

20. and there was one bed

21. every boy for himself

22. rhymes with loona

23. out-testosteroned

24. white lies

25. heart-to-heart

26. the athenaeum

27. sock sock shoe shoe

28. group ass fucking

29. post defamation dinner date

30. final verdict

31. do you have time to talk about our lord and savior

32. tap to get tapped back

33. mad as fuck (the remix)

34. in too deep

35. change my world

36. provisional fight club

37. go piss girl

38. girlhood won

39. we can't do this

40. pledge week

41. babygirls with daddy issues

42. they must be really good friends

43. hot jay summer

44. dangerous entanglements

45. the fifth interview candidate

UNCUTS !

TBD.

ONGOING 7/29/24

[earlysunshines]

secret rhymes

pham hanni x fem!reader ; angst, fluff

synopsis: you get dumped and decide to post a video on youtube of you singing an original song to cope. the last thing you expected was for it to blow up, waking up to 99+ notifications on every social media account. luckily for you, this changes your life drastically—including your love life.

warnings: musician/artist!reader ; SOME homophobia but it’s not like severe idk ; PINING!!! ; reader is 04 ; many idols mentioned in this but most of them i don’t even stan or know like that so don't comment... ; IMESSAGE LIGHT MODE IM SORRRYYY ; rly dirty jokes here and there ; literally anything else i didn’t mention ; all jokes pls do NOTTT take anything serious ; more to add probably ; not proofread LOL

a/n: got this idea after listening to hanni’s original song :-P first smau!! i finally figured things out guys … embarassing!!! i really wanted to write this one out but i spent so much time trying to and realized a smau would fit best lol

!!! secret rhymes playlist !!!

profiles: baconeggandcheese, denim bottoms, and others that’ll pop up (maybe)🤫

00 : prologue(s): one, two

01 : no foreplay??

02 : no more mr nice guy

03: we are SO back

04: girl wake up

05. THERES MORE?

06: greedy

07: sneaking out

08: girls supporting girls

09: grad!

10: military wife

11: roomie (half-written)

12: hashtag devastated

13: micro celebrity

14: beating the schizophrenic allegations

15: trauma bonded

16: evergreen

17: debut hard launch

18. is this a prank (half-written)

19: storytime

20: who is this diva!!

21: what’s good korea (half written)

22: bumping into... you? (half-written)

23: hanni IS wattpad main character

24: reciprocated fangirling

25: yn idol core

26: hyein count your days

27: soft launch (platonic)

28: two pretty best friends

29: sweet dreams (half-written)

30: night market (written)

31. resigning

32. she’s signed!

33: HOMO ALERT 🚨

34. the haters will sabotage me

35. concert (half-written)

36. mayor of idgaf town

37. dunda square shorty

38. hanni in her deathbed

39. victorian child (half-written)

40. hey girl

41: two man

42. no need for allat (half written)

43. no war in ba sing se

44. ??? (half written)

45. lore drop

46. yearnmaxxing

47. there’s no way

48. last words (half-written)

more to come!

taglist ! @namojoon @ly-gushka @layonaiguess @artrizzler19 @yerimbrit @sixflame438 @nwjnsloona @saysirhc @nimnia @somedaydream @trovao-penguins @modanisgf @c-yerim @starstruckgoateepuppy @tzuyusdoughnut @kaypanaq @peranoo @haerinkisser @electronicluminarycoffee @yoohtonyy @secretcessy @keiji-jin @awkwardtoafault @syronns @linnnsworld @inybits @ynwrites @wonyoungssi

[waitsobs]

THE LONG GAME ⋆˚࿔ Megan Skiendiel

Synopsis - When popular actress y/n l/n's private account gets exposed, it is revealed that she has a crush on one of the girls from the girl group katseye. y//n tries to de-escalate the situation, but makes it worse, and loses her chance with the girl. The only way she think of winning the girl over is by playing the long game. 

Featuring - katseye, Flo, and more

Pairing- Megan Skiendiel x black female reader

Disclaimer - angst, playful jokes, kys jokes, and crude language, y/n doesn’t have a set face claim, This is not an accurate portrayal of the people referenced in this smau; it is only for fun.

A/N - Got inspired to make this after reading @cinnamanz Manon fic! Go check out their new Dani fic!! Divider by mikeykuns

Profiles ⭑.ᐟ goofy goobers, nonchalantkons , nonchalantkons 2.0 01. WE ARE NOT SO UP 02. I GOTTA PUT ME FIRST

03. WHAT HAPPENED TO MY SUPPORT

04. PEACE PROTECTED 05. NICE WEATHER TODAY

06. SOMETHING SHIFTED 07. PLAN IN MOTION

08. I’M PLAYING WHO? 09. WORK FOR IT

10. THE UNIVERSE 11. GAY PEOPLE WE ARE SO UP

12. SHE DRIVES ME INSANE

13. YOU GET A BLOCK AND SHE GET’S A BLOCK

14. FUTURE WIFE 15. CRACKED 16. UNBLOCKED AND TEASING

17. HAPPY BIRTHDAY? 18. AQUARIUM CONFESSIONS

19. OPP LIST 20. CAN’T BE GAY IN PEACE

21. A TEENY TINY MISTAKE 22. STRAIGHT? 23. HASHTAG SITUATION HANDLED? 24. NOT HAVING FUN ANYMORE

25. LESBIAN CITY 26. CANCELED 27. BOLD ON MAIN

28. NEVERMIND 29. DON’T WANNA TALK

30. BEDROOM CONFESSIONS 31. FIVE MORE MINUTES

32. /SRS 33. STAY IN LINE 34. DETECTIVES

35. REALIZATIONS 36. SHIT IS ABOUT TO GO DOWN

37. NOTHING IS GOING TO HAPPEN 38. IT HAPPENED

39. EVIL MANAGER 40. CONSIDERATION

41. FUCK MY MANAGER 42. CHANGE OF PLANS

43. LET THE GAYS WIN 44. NOT IN A FRIEND WAY

More coming soon

[cinnamanz]

— ִ ࣪✮🕷✮⋆˙ DARLING, I .ᐟ ·˚ ༘ MANON BANNERMAN

when new york city’s widely-known spider-woman's life becomes unknowingly entwined with a member of the rising global girl group katseye, she learns that juggling superhero duties, university, and a sudden crush may or may not just be the downfall of her. but hey, at least she's helping people, right?

tags .ᐟ smau, crack, fluff, idol x superhero, unserious awkward losers, coarse language, suggestive themes, university! au, horrible jokes

featuring .ᐟ katseye, itzy, skz, le sserafim.

pairing .ᐟ manon bannerman x reader.

status .ᐟ completed— 5 jan 25.

notes .ᐟ this smau was made for fun and entertainment. it is not an actual portrayal of the people mentioned in this smau, nor are the photos used to portray y/n. also let's just say that some kpop groups are currently living in nyc. IGNORE THE TIMESTAMPS. divider creds: @/adornedwithlight.

PROFILES!

nightmare blunt rotation brainrotted fine shyts brainrotted fine shyts 2.5

01. YOUR FRIENDLY NEIGHBOURHOOD SPIDER-WOMAN!

02. TOO LIT!

03. CAKE!

04. SWEET MOTHER OF CHRIST!

05. WEDGIES IN A SPANDEX!

06. MAMA A MINION GIRL BEHIND YOU!

07. FREAKY N PROUD!

08. WUH LUH WUH?

09. LOST IN TRANSLATION!

10. STALKER!

11. IT'S A DATE!

12. SICK N TIRED!

13. BOOTS R QUAKING!

14. SO ANXIOUS!

15. AND THE CROWD IS CONFUSED?

16. CANDIDS!

17. NEW YEAR, NEW ME!

18. NEW YEAR, NEW FRUSTRATIONS!

19. FEMALE DJS DO IT BEST!

20. JENNIFER!

21. LAST STRAW!

22. BLOCKED!

23. THIS POST HAS BEEN DELETED!

24. SO COOKED!

25. WHAT DOES IT #MEAN?

26. HEIROGILGER AHH TEXT!

27. QUEEN NEVER CRY!

28. THE TYPE OF GREED THEY TALK ABOUT IN THE BIBLE!

29. EYES ON ME!

30. FINALLY!

31. ONE HELL OF A DATE!

32. HALLELUJAH!

33. TOO GAY TO FUNCTION!

34. EMBARRASSING!

35. BLOCKED PT. 2!

36. THREE WEEKS!

37. SPIDER-WOMAN!

38. APOLOGY GIFT!

39. SALUTATIONS BEAUTIFUL!

40. IDGAF WAR!

41. APOLOGY GIFT PT. 2!

42. BLOCKED PT. 3!

43. SO HELP ME GOD!

44. OH SHIT!

45. LIFE OR DEATH!

46. STUPIDITY!

47. LIZARD THING LIVESTREAM!

48. MOVIE DATE!

49. WOMAN ON A MISSION!

50. SUSPICIONS!

51. GO HOME!

52. THE END!

bonus! incorrect quotes n text messages.

™ CINNAMANZ 2024

— please do not repost, copy, translate, or take from my work in any way without permission. thank you! xx