dynamight and izuku
The remaining members of the Bakusquad and Dekusquad!!
Sukuna
Story Masterlist
Pairing: Trueform!Sukuna x f!Reader
Genre: Angst, Romance, Smut
Story Warnings: Planned Pregnancy, Forced Marriage, Slight hate to love relationship, Four-Armed Sukuna
Bored with his life, Sukuna decides he wants something else. He wants an heir. A horrible idea for everyone– Especially for the maiden that’s tasked with fulfilling his whim.
Sukuna always gets what he wants in the end.
Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi
[Chapter 1] Offerings
literally denji
we fly together | kageyama tobio x reader
in which kageyama tobio is born for several things: the court, his team, and you. and he really, really wants to marry you.
wc: 766 | gn reader | little glimpses of your relationship with tobio over the years
There are several givens in Kageyama Tobio’s life.
There’s volleyball. It’s in his blood. Volleyball is shoes squeaking on floors, the shrill of a whistle, Nikuman after practice, and that sweet, sweet feeling of connection– fingers brushing yellow and blue leather and palms aching after a serve. Kageyama Tobio was born for the court and born to fly.
His team is one of them. There’s Sugawara, who still treats him to yakitori and an Asahi Dry (or three) whenever he’s back in Miyagi. Daichi sends him assorted nuts from Sendai every once in a while and Nishinoya mass e-mails him slightly blurry pictures of his life abroad on New Years. Ushijima buys electrolytes for him and Kourai. Shouyou is, well, Shouyou, and Kageyama counts him as two givens.
There’s the small things too: he takes a little too long to read Kanji, he buys a new face wash every month, he will always avoid rush hour.
And then, he thinks, there’s you.
It hits him in full force in the middle of the street on a Tuesday evening as he holds a plastic bag of groceries. It also, consequently, renders him immobile for ten minutes, because Tobio had never been one to dwell on the givens. But as he stands on the pavement and his bag carries the burden of hashi for two, yogurt for two, two packs of sandwiches and four bags of gummies,
( because you really like those gummies: and Tobio had thought, if you like the grape flavor, then you should also try the strawberry. And if you wanted to try something new, you might crave the fizzy Cola ones. And if you liked the Cola ones, then he had to buy the Ramune flavored ones, too )
Tobio gets the urge to buy a ring. And an urge, no, a craving to marry you.
Tobio remembers study sessions in high school and desperate makeouts in Karasuno’s dusty storage closet. He remembers the firsts: first conversation, first fight, first kiss, first date. Sprinting on beaches before the sun kissed the horizon and laying underneath the stars. He remembers graduation under cherry blossoms and pressing his second button into your palm with red cheeks and shaking hands.
There were tears, too. Anger as he realized he couldn’t, for once, be selfish and have both you and professional volleyball. Anger as you had cried and cried and cried in his arms because you were getting your degree in Miyagi and he was moving to Tokyo. Anger as you had suggested breaking things off because you knew that Kageyama was born for the court. To fly.
And you had said, between tears, that Tokyo was his potential. Because you knew him, and you knew that he didn’t like texting and that he wasn’t good at communicating, but you somehow underestimated how much you meant to him. Then: you had stopped crying because Kageyama was crying. And you had never seen Kageyama cry.
You were there when Kageyama started on the National Team, standing in the bleachers with the biggest smile he had ever seen, jumping as you turned to show him the Kageyama embroidered on the back of your jersey. You were there when he accepted his position on the Adlers, and watched their broadcasted games behind textbooks and journals and pencils from your dorm in Sendai.
Kageyama was there when you called him sobbing because the pipes in your dorm leaked. He was there when you got fired from your part time job for slapping a customer. Begrudgingly, he was there when you asked him to have Oikawa Tooru sign twelve jerseys for your friends at university. And then, he was there when you graduated college, diploma in hand and a blush on your cheeks as you pressed your button into his palm even though you really weren’t supposed to do that.
Now you’re in Tokyo, having accepted his slightly bashful request for you to move in with him– in a nice apartment on the fourteenth floor overlooking the city; because even though he didn’t really like heights, he knew you loved city lights and people-watching. And if he had to cover his face when he saw the nameplate next to your shared apartment that read Kageyama, well. You didn’t have to know that.
He’s still on the street, and he’s still holding his grocery bag, but his eyes are firm because he really wants to make your last name Kageyama.
So he makes a phone call.
“Tanaka-san,” He says before his former upperclassman can react. “Where did you buy Shimizu’s ring?”
MY BABY BOY NEEDS LOVE AND ATTENTION
yes i miss his curls but oh my gosh this buzz is hitting different, so excited for grown out buzz😖hamzah save me pls.
og vid on tiktok by wockysllush
POV: You are trying to escape, but he thinks you just want to play cat and mouse
Merry Christmas everyone!
(Can this be prequel-ish everyone?)
The ChaGold member, thank you @alexex8sts as always for being here with me! :-)
noted: I got inspired by this pic, soooo.... 😉 noted 2: someone continues the story pls--
warning: Satoru himself, BLOOD
dude ur interrupting on the floor time with ur beautiful face STOP
POV : you have been scrolling for the past hour and all you see is SMUT
Please...life is lot more than fucking🙏🏻
hamzahthefantastic x reader
description: it's been a full year since you and hamzah broke up, causing you to go silent towards your whole friend group. after rekindling at a grocery store, mandy invites you to a party she's hosting. you go, noticing a familiar set of eyes staring at you throughout the night.
mentions: reader heavily loves pickles, angst and yearning (obvi), she/her pronouns, slight argument, ex!hamzah (who will be back for a lottttt of different fics), sfw!
blood orange is so freaking good i was listening to blood orange and got the idea for this fic <3
--
"martin, is that..?"
you turned around in the aisles messily stacked with assorted jars of pickles and olives, revealing a guy and a girl of your past: the faces behind the whisper. you gazed at the couple in front of you with a certain whimsical, yet surprised stare. martin and mandy were the two people who, at one point, helped toronto feel like home after moving there from the states. meeting mandy at a frozen yogurt stand after she complimented your outfit with welcoming radiance, you soon met martin and became apart of their small, yet comfortable and familiar group.
it was only until you met hamzah that they remained the people who created warmth for you to take in. you and hamzah had a specific energy, tying your souls together as if they were forever meant to be intertwined. chemistry erupted from the first interaction between the two of you; a nostalgic, childlike sense of happiness emerged between you guys similar to high school football games and puppy love. with hamzah, you were never scared. in fact, risk and excitement amplified itself within you every time you took your friendship with him a step further.
it wasn't surprising when hamzah decided he'd kiss you in front of martin, mandy, claire, and chase while at martin and mandy's abode. it also wasn't surprising when you two popped out as a couple a day or two later. the relationship your friends observed was one they rooted for; you knew in that moment that none of your friends would pity you at your wedding, which was new to you after trials and errors of different relationships with different guys.
it was definitely not a fairytale of your childhood dreams with him, actually, the complete opposite. you enjoyed the fact that your days weren't always fast-paced and full of moments that felt like it should be posted on some social media to get a thousand likes. sometimes, your days were slow. your days were filled with laundry baskets piled to the top and a race to see who gets to sort clothes faster. your days were filled with morning breath and uncomfortable, yet cozy positions in bed with hamzah. your days had occasional arguments, yet, they were always solved within a day or two. this was the man you wanted to marry.
however, you've always had the mindset of fairy tales always containing an ending to them, happy or not. you saw him less and less as the relationship went on, as his channel with martin was slowly but surely taking off the mainstream media. he began to hermit inside of his office, sometimes even sleeping there for days, almost as if the job was a ball and chain tied to his leg. yet, he also didn't want it off of him no matter how many times he's found the key. he would spend days without seeing you, seemingly by choice, leaving you worried and lonely. it was after a full two years and three months that you decided to end things with him for the sake of your own mental health, sanity, and wellness.
it was hard at first; honestly, you wanted to curl into a ball and hide away from everyone. martin and mandy were supportive, as they noticed all the times hamzah ditched you to edit or to film or to email. yet, each time you saw their faces, all you could see was him. so, slowly, "yeah, you can come over later," turned into "i'll see if i have plans," which eventually and gradually turned into, "sorry, i'm busy." you felt guilty, but you needed to erase him from your mind, like white paint to a canvas, in order to fully heal. it was never going to be a permanent thing, yet it's also been a full year since you last spoke to them. this was probably one of the most awkward things you could've ever encountered and on this fateful thursday night, you did.
"oh, hi," you softly greeted, rubbing the back of your neck with your free hand that wasn't holding the grocery basket.
mandy's gaze was as surprised as yours was, "wow, it's been ages."
"yeah, y'know... i've just been busy..."
"are you doing anything tonight?"
the guilt of being gone for so long finally decided to show up, chasing after your stream of consciousness like a dog chasing a bone.
"no, no i'm not."
--
without fully realizing until you were sitting in their dining room chair, you were now at martin and mandy's amicable apartment. a cup of tea accompanied your hands; for warmth or for comfort, you weren't really sure. it's been small talk for the past twenty minutes since you've arrived. guilt, as it always does, was still biting at your chest cavity like a parasite. so, to ease it away from you, you decided to speak about the elephant in the room.
"look, martin, mandy, i'm really sorry i haven't spoken to you guys in ages and just stopped responding. honestly, i guess i kinda saw hamzah every single time i saw you two. it hurt too much and i couldn't take it anymore."
mandy held your hand in her palm, "no, i get it-"
"are we pushing you too far by, like, bringing you to our apartment right after seeing us again without it being planned?" martin asked, genuine worry laced in his vocal infliction.
"no, no, definitely not. i've healed, already," you sipped your tea, "i was planning on contacting you guys soon. i guess soon ended up being, y'know, today."
"how have you been? or, like, have you healed from you and hamzah" mandy asked hesitantly; almost as if the mere mention of his name would've broken you like fine china being dropped.
"i've, uh, i've been alright- i guess, sometimes, i still think about him. it's inevitable. the mere thought of him chases after me to this day. it's weird, like, as soon as i got rid of his stuff, i felt okay; i felt fine and i didn't cry, but then there are days where i stumble upon an ad for fantastic mr. fox and i end up crying for weeks straight. i'm not really sure, y'know, when it'll end. hopefully, soon."
mandy's grip on your hand tightened as martin listened to each word you said, processing every emotion and memory held onto your words.
"would you ever get back together with him?" martin asked, as mandy lightly slapped his shoulder, "sorry, was that too blunt? or, like- fuck- sorry you don't have to answer tha-"
"maybe."
mandy's eyebrows raised inquisitively, "really?"
you placed your cup of tea down and started fidgeting with your hands, "i mean, i've always believed in that whole fate thing. destiny can't be changed and that type of shit. i don't hate him. i guess i- what's the word- resent.. him..? i couldn't hate him if i tried. i guess what i'm saying is if the universe decided to bring us back together, i'd probably be scared, but i also wouldn't oppose it completely. i don't know; we were young and i didn't know how to communicate and he didn't know how to balance. it's obvious that it wouldn't work out, then. i don't know about now."
"you seem to have thought about this a lot, to the point where you can talk about it in that way," mandy mentioned.
"so, you would give him another shot?" martin added.
you thought for a moment, "it depends on how that shot happens."
looking at the clock, you realized that it was now almost 10 pm. though you didn't have work or plans tomorrow, you didn't want to overstay your visit and leech onto them and their house. after all, the three of you just reconnected after a full year of absence and silence.
"i didn't even realize it was 10; i should probably get going, now," you got up and scooted in your chair.
mandy reached out to give you a hug, to which you returned, "wait, me and martin are having a get-together tomorrow. it's not a rager, but it's also not, like, lame, i guess. come. chase and claire are visiting and they've been asking about you lately too. everyone misses you."
the whole day was filled of taking chances and playing with the fate you previously thought you were aware of. what's one more game of odds?
"sure. i'll be there."
--
the house was dark, yet also thoughtfully lit with ambient lighting. shades of oranges and blues lit everyone's skin with a contrasting hue, reminiscent of a sunset on the ocean. there wasn't too many people there; if anything, you knew a good majority of them. yet, the thought of why you knew them, or the thought of hamzah's many introductions to get you used to his crowd, made your heart hurt a little. you arrived late, letting yourself in since mandy, nor martin weren't answering their phones. greeting a couple of familiar faces on your way in, you finally found your way to martin and mandy, speaking to chase and claire.
things felt normal for the first time in a long time. you were not alone, in fact, you were with the people who created what "home" was, in the first place. for being in a room with so many people who helped create the best atmosphere for you to thrive in, you still felt lonely. you didn't know it was possible to feel this conflicted; how could you feel lonely when you know you aren't alone?
suddenly, hamzah walked through the kitchen doors to the dining table you were sat at. a red crewneck and baggy, black jeans adorned his body, as well as the black sambas that were years and years old. the beanie that adorned his head, revealing tiny, black curls peeking out of it, complimented the silver chain on his necklace; you recognized it. it was yours.
"i could not find the cups, mandy, where are the cu-"
his eyes locked onto yours as if your pupils were magnets destined to be pulled together. you, then, saw what you witnessed when you first fell in love with him: nostalgia. childlike wonder. puppy love. the table went silent, watching this encounter unfold. everyone's eyes were widened in shock. in that moment, you couldn't hear the music, nor the people around you speaking, nor the drinks being poured or dog barking outside. the only thing you were focused on was the boy in front of you. frozen in space, you hoped you wouldn't have to be the first to speak. yet, you also never were the first one to speak.
"can we talk?"
you nodded, not knowing where this conversation was going to be headed.
--
you were both outside on martin and mandy's rooftop. you mentioned to him that you find it easier to talk when gazing at the stars and being in his presence, though, you were also dating at the time. you wondered if he remembered or if this was a coincidence. currently, you were sat in silence, waiting for him to break it.
"that wasn't the first time i saw you, tonight."
your gaze turned from the stars of the sky to the ones reflected in his irises, "what?"
"this whole night, i've been staring at the door. i wasn't really sure who i was waiting for, but i just felt the need to. now that you're here, i know now. i saw you when you entered and had a mini-panic attack in the kitchen. i don't even know what to say to you now that we're out here."
it became silent again, as you didn't respond.
he continued, "i miss you. i don't think there's a single day that went by where i don't fuck myself up for losing you. fuck, baby, i miss everything about you."
"you do?"
"there's so many texts i wrote you, but i just never sent them. i almost send, like, three of them a week."
"what do they have in them?"
"y'know, updates, my life, asking how you are, apologizing for being a total fucking ass."
"you were a total fucking ass," you teased, laughing ever-so-slightly, "it's okay. it's obvious you've changed and most likely grew."
he laughed as well before his face morphed into something more serious, "if you let me, i'll spend the rest of my life making everything i did up to you."
"and remind me what you did?"
"i didn't treat you the way that i was supposed to- the way you deserve. i'm sorry, i promise i'll fix things," he grabbed your cheek gently and nudged your head towards him, "please, baby, let me fix things. i'll beg, if i have to."
you sighed, "hamzah, i'm scared."
hamzah took out his phone and put in his password.
"my birthday? you haven't changed your password from my birthday in a full year?"
"yeah, uh, i just didn't want to."
he clicked on his notes app and gave you the phone, then turned to the sky and gazed at the different twinkling lights up above.
"what is this?" you asked.
"i write you letters whenever i think about you so much to the point where it gets overwhelming.
you read the first note titled "1/19," which was a couple of days ago.
1/19
hey, baby. how are you? i miss you a lot. i went to the store today and i got the pickles you like. i don't even like pickles. or, i guess, now i do. ever since we ended things, i go to the store just to get a jar of the pickles you liked. i think every time i eat them it makes me think about that one time you forced me to try one and i literally almost threw up because of how disgusting they are. i think i just eat them because idk they make me think of you. i hope you're doing alright. i hope your studies are going good. you're graduating in, what, like a year? that's crazy. i hope i'll be able to be there with you. i'm sorry, for everything, again. i say this in every paragraph. i fucked up. i know that, but please, please let me fix it. i'll be a good boyfriend, i'll even be a good husband one day. i promise. i'll talk to you again soon.
by the end of the paragraph, you teared up. looking beside you at him, a worrisome look entered his face as he gazed ahead of him; a second chance is the most desirable thing to him. he doesn't care about money, or fame, or sex. he's been yearning for you.
you copied his move; your hand made its way to hamzah's cheek, nudging it slowly but surely towards you. the twinkle in his eyes held hope, as did yours as it mirrored him. you sat there, simply looking into each other's eyes and possibly each other's soul; there was no rush, there was only love. your lips made its way onto his, softly, for a mere second. you pulled away as his lips chased after yours, kissing once again with a certain firmness and desperation laced into it.
"i'm sorry again, baby," he admits as he pulls away, "please, please let me back into your life. i don't care how hard or how long i have to work for it; let me earn you back. i can't live without you."
you smiled one of the most genuine smiles you've had in ages, "i trust you, hamzah."
"is that a yes?"
"i dunno. what do you think, idiot?"
--
author's note
goodnight guys! <3