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julesss110 · 2 months ago

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catalyst - chapter 5

Life has many twists and turns- yours included getting rejected from med school and ending up as a manager for your burnt-out pro boxer ex. (sukuna x fem!reader)

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The frantic knocking on your door made you jump out of bed. “Sukuna, what are you—is that blood?” The tall man moved past you. You rubbed your eyes and followed him to your bedroom, body warm and still delirious from sleep.

You tried to grab onto his arm to get him to look at you, but the man was swift with his movements, shuffling around the room in flashes of pink and red. His leather jacket hanging off of his lean and broad shoulders. “Sukuna, what’s wrong with your face? There’s blood everywhere.”

“No time to answer. You still have my stuff, right?” You almost didn’t notice the duffle bag he was carrying. It seemed like he was going on a short trip.

“Yeah, but what’s going on? Are you okay?”

No answer. It was like he was in his own world, turning your closet-sized room into a hurricane while looking for his clothes. You felt like a lone tree standing within the storm, wavering with every gust of wind blowing through your branches.

Sukuna hastily shoved in whatever was left of his things and finally turned to look at you. Eyes blank, face battered. “Let’s end this.”

Your blood ran cold. Your roots were beginning to lift out of the ground. “What?”

“Let’s break up. We haven’t seen each other for weeks anyway.”

Your legs wobbled as you tried to navigate across the cobblestone, heels in hand, alcohol in your system. Everything was a blur after you ran away from the party. The last thing you remember is pushing Gojo’s smirking figure away while Sukuna calls you out. You couldn’t be near him. Not when he had been dangling a veil before you for so long. Underground fighter–when did he have the time to become one?

Seeking sanctuary in your old apartment was out of the question, considering that you had broken your lease to live with your ex/boss. So you decided to go to the next best place–the park next to Sukuna’s apartment complex, not near his space enough to be consumed by him but far away enough to comprehend the information you received.

You ignored the sharp nips of the cold December wind against your bare arms. The park felt haunted. At least, in the summer, you could hear the loud chirps of cicadas and crickets, feeling like you had company even when alone. But now, you could only hear the eerie sway of the leafless trees. You had forgotten to pick up your coat in your flurry of emotions. You hugged yourself, trying not to cry over how miserable you felt.

You thought being his girlfriend meant being important enough to know about his life's deep, intimate secrets, but apparently not. Not in his mind. Where your heart sought answers for his secretive behavior, there his mind pushed you further and further away.

You were hoping it was all just a ploy to shield you from all the violence.

“Thank God, I thought Sukuna was finally going to experiment with his new punches on me,” a familiar voice said as you were enveloped in jacketed warmth. Yuuji plopped beside you on the bench you were sitting at and wrapped an arm around you. “I ran out from a party for you. What’s wrong?”

“Sukuna sent you after me?”

“Yeah, told me you ran away from the charity ball like some kind of Cinderella. I thought you’d be somewhere here since it’s so cold. Speaking of which, I should probably text him that you’re safe,” he answered as he pulled out his phone.

Conflicted. It’s all you’d been feeling since meeting him after so long. On one hand, you resented him for pushing you away with little to no explanation, and on the other, you felt warm with glee, knowing that he still intensely cared for you. It made you want to caress that oh-so-tense face of his.

“I know you have many questions, and I can’t answer them all, but I will tell you one thing–these scars–” he points to the half-moon-shaped indents right beneath his bright eyes “–were caused by the people he was involved with in the past. He didn’t want the same thing to happen to you.”

Your heart clenched deep inside your chest. Yuuji was only in high school two years ago. Who could do such a thing to a young boy? There was a newfound respect for him in your heart. Not many could keep that childlike innocence in them after experiencing something so traumatic, but Yuuji seemed like he was just fine, even if it may only be on the surface. The only blade you touched was a scalpel during your internship at your local hospital, and you seemed more uneasy than him.

You wrapped a shaky arm around his shoulder and patted it with a maternal glint in your eye. Heart aching for the poor boy. “I’m sorry you had to grow up so soon.”

“I’m fine. I’ve made up countless stories about these scars. It’s a good conversation starter with strangers.” His light-hearted chuckle made you stroke his head. Yuuji was like your little brother, too. You had basically raised him along with Sukuna, and he had grown into a fine young man. Understanding and emotionally intelligent.

“Sukuna… had been thinking about coming clean for a long time. There are many things that you need to know, but it’s not my place to tell you everything.”

It was hard to imagine Sukuna, of all people, to be so tense. The man was usually aloof. At least his past self was. Never did you consider him to be so marred by his past.

“I’m gone an hour, and you’re already making moves on her?” You turn around to see Sukuna, disheveled, smooth tuxedo jacket in hand. The first few buttons of his shirt went back to being undone like it was earlier that evening, and his bowtie was back into its initial satin-string-like form. His hair looked like it had been run through a hundred times, and his face looked worse for wear. A frantic man in the flesh.

He yanks Yuuji’s jacket off your shoulders and replaces it with his. “I’ll give you a fifty to leave us alone.” You have to squeeze your legs to comfort the growing tension between them. Men with deep voices–no, Sukuna’s haphazard state was your weakness.

“I would’ve done it for free, but thanks for the extra cash!” Yuuji snatches away Sukuna’s jacket and jogs up to Sukuna’s building with a little pep in his step. “Weird kid,” Sukuna mumbles as he sits next to you, the sides of his muscular thighs pressed against yours, being explicit about his feelings. “More like a sweet kid, Sukuna.”

“You always coddled him too much.”

“Couldn’t help it.”

The silence that followed felt like holding a bottle full of lightning, glass confining something magical yet destructive. The lines between boss and ex-lover were already blurred, but at this moment, they felt nonexistent. You both were staring at each other through a chained fence–only it was made from thin cotton threads and not metal. You could smell the fence burning, each fiber of the fabric withering away as the flames consumed it and spat out ash. It was getting close to you both. You could feel its heat already.

You could feel it in the heat of his gaze as he turned your shoulders to face him. “Let me start from the beginning.” You took a deep breath to brace yourself. The knot in your stomach told you that it was not going to be easy to hear his story.

“It all started when I was working out at a friend’s gym. He liked boxing from time to time, and he introduced me to a few boxing clubs where I could earn extra cash by fighting locals. Nothing too crazy, just amateur fights. It helped me let out some steam and earn a little extra for Yuuji’s college fund.”

His big hands squeezed your shoulders. “During one of my fights, I didn’t know that I had very important people watching me–the Zenin family.”

Your eyebrows rose in surprise. “Zenin- you mean the family who owns Zenin Construction Group?”

“Yeah, they’re into sports gambling a lot. Boxing is just one of the pools they like to dip their feet in. The CEO or dad, Naobito Zenin, approached me after my fight to box for his ‘league.’ Little did I know it was just a team of brawny men who fought to the death in a musty basement so he could earn hundreds of thousands under the table. We, of course, also got a percentage of that. Not a lot, but it was still good money. Enough to pay for Yuuji’s first year. I could not let that chance go.”

You immediately grabbed his hands and moved them to your lap instead, holding them in place–a practice you had followed since the beginning of your relationship for some of the few times Sukuna was ready to drop his guard.

“Things were going well. You didn’t suspect much since we were barely meeting in person, and I was saving up enough. Until–” Sukuna gulped as his fists clenched in your manicured hands. Veins and bones popping up and again, reminding you about his sheer monstrous strength.

“I nearly killed someone,” he rasped out. “It was the most terrifying moment of my life. Had me thinking how far I was ready to go for money.”

Your heart sank in your chest. Your mind reeled about how often Sukuna probably had to make difficult decisions while fighting and how often it affected him. All of a sudden, in front of you, was sitting your lover from two years ago. A little skinnier, with a little more affection visible in his eyes. “Naobito wasn’t happy when I told him I didn’t want to box again because of that, so he attacked Yuuji. I was afraid you were next, so I knew I had to run away. I had to keep Yuuji safe, at least until he left for college. I was lucky that Coach Yaga was watching my matches. He let us stay with him and trained me professionally so I could actually learn how to use my gift.”

Your mouth was dry. What could a person say after being told that they were abandoned for their own safety? Every sensation of guilt enveloped you in that moment. “Sukuna, I’m so–”

“No. You will not apologize for the shit I did. All of that happened because of me. I don’t want you to blame yourself for hating me. I fucked up.”

“Can you stop? Do you even hear yourself right now? You did what you had to do to keep yourself afloat. I’m proud of you and how far you’ve come. I just–I don’t know how you did it all by yourself. You must’ve felt so alone.” You put a hand on his face, and he leaned his face into your cold palm like it was a visceral need. Your skin burned at the feeling of his lips. His large hands moved to your elbows and dragged them to your wrists.

“You have no idea. Every second away from you was torture,” he said before kissing the center of your palm. “Felt like I made myself go through all that for nothing. After we broke up, I realized that I needed you to survive. You’re the only one I’ve ever wanted to live for besides my brother.”

The thrumming in your chest was dizzying. Your breath hitched as he placed both each of your wrists on either side of his neck. It was almost laughable how easily he lifted you off the bench and onto his strong and firm thighs. He took your lack of objection and blushing face as acceptance and pulled you closer by your neck.

“Give me one more chance. I promise I won’t keep anything from you. I’ll be better. I want to be better,” he whispered in your ear, the puffs of his warm breath making you shiver, leading you to scoot closer to him automatically. Body basically flat against his. Rugged, muscular planes against your softness. You don't miss how he caresses the side of your thigh.

He pulls back, and you see something other than regret–want. Well, more like need.

You wordlessly trace the harsh black strokes on his face. His eyes close as your fingers get closer to his lips. “I’ve missed you too—more than you know,” you whisper, breath mingling with his deep one.

And for a moment, everything seems to stop. You can’t hear the eerie swaying of the trees, nor can you hear the mindless crackles of random flyers in the park or the distant rumbling of cars on the street. All you could hear was your lover’s deep breaths. Your hand went down to his chest to feel his heartbeat.

Fast. Just like yours. You didn’t want this moment to end.

Feeling impatient, Sukuna slots his lips against yours. At first, his lips move against yours like he’s unsure if what’s happening is real—praying that the woman on his lap is not just his fantasy. But then he soon grows confident as your hands move to his scalp and mess up his carefully styled hairdo. You began to come undone, as his lips began to kiss you harder. His hands move around your body like it was his last time touching you. In that moment, he mentally thanked the opponent who thrashed him to immobility, or else he wouldn’t be having this moment with you–pressed up and bothered against him.

He reluctantly pulled away as you used your forearms to slot yourself against him, catching your breath. But that wasn’t enough for the man, so he pulled you into a bone-crushing hug. “It’s been way too long since we’ve done this. Let me hold you a while.”

—

taglist: @sukubusss @kyo-kyo1 @kensqueent @totallygyomeiswife @missthatgirl @iluv-ace @emoedgylord @miakxn @sunasgf1 @lolilewenk @clp-84 @sodapop182 @therealjustpeachesback @msanimeotaku181 @aerareads @rebels-rewrite @emochosoluvr

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julesss110 · 2 months ago

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I could love you with my eyes closed

Tags: Suguru x fem!Reader, smau, (brother’s) best friend to lovers, modern!au, college!au, cursing, talks of mental health, reader is satoru’s little sister, mdni

An: Posting the caleb fic has rejuvenated me. Here’s another part to the Suguru smau 🙂‍↕️

Part one. | Part two. | Part three. | Part four. | Epilogue.

taglist: @vorfreudevortex @lastbreathtaken @indiewritesxoxo @jenzznyq @megumimeg @ziggy0stardust @saiki-enthusiast @ilovegetosuguru @saphiresuns @thegalaxyisunfolding @k1xn4a @7thsthings @spookypeacesandwich @beautifulwitchcandy @cloudxox

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julesss110 · 2 months ago

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ur rides here

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julesss110 · 2 months ago

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sukuna being the test subject of your lip products | f. reader, s/h prns., crack 'n suggestive (under the cut), estb. rl ؛ ଓ

you don’t ask anymore. you just do.

the moment a new PR package shows up—wrapped in glittery tissue, smelling like candy and capitalism—you’re already rolling up your sleeves and calling, “baby, come here. test dummy time.” sukuna groans from wherever he’s sulking in the apartment (usually the couch, half-asleep with one hand in a bag of chips and the other on his game controller). he pretends not to hear you, but he does. he always does.

“what now?” he drags his feet over. shirtless, pouting, voice gravelly with freshly summoned attitude. “if this is another ‘juicy lip plumper no. 3’ i’m gonna riot.”

you ignore him, your hand snaking around his wrist and pulls him down to your vanity stool like you pay him for this. in a way, you do — you kiss him after, and he’d commit federal crimes for that.

“this one’s called eternal cherry kiss,” you say as you uncap the applicator with a dramatic flourish. “supposed to last through eating and drinking. you’ll be the judge.”

“what the fuck is ‘eternal cherry’ supposed to taste like?”

“eternally cherry, obviously.” you lean in. “now pucker up.”

he rolls his eyes, exhales through his nose like this is such an inconvenience, but he leans in anyway. you swipe the gloss across his mouth in a single fluid motion — crimson and glossy, instantly turning his lips into a billboard ad for ‘kissing season.’

he smacks his lips. frowns.

“feels sticky.”

you pull out your phone and hit record. “and now, we let the wear test begin.”

by 2 p.m., he’s still wearing it. there’s a faint cherry sheen while he raids in world of warcraft, barking orders through his mic with his mouth shimmering like a debutante. his guild doesn’t say anything. they know better.

by 5 p.m., you’ve taken him out for errands, the cashier at the pharmacy doing a double take. sukuna glares at the display of cough drops like it wronged him personally, but he doesn’t wipe it off. not even once.

you hand him a mic for the “after” segment. he’s sitting on the kitchen counter, shirtless again, lips still kissed-stained and glowy.

“so, mr. sukuna,” you say with your best influencer voice. “tell us your final review.”

he glares at the camera as he crosses his arms. the gloss is half-faded, but still there, like a badge of honor.

“it’s obnoxious. it survived a shower. survived battle. survived me eating an entire plate of biryani. and her biting my bottom lip at lunch like a demon in heat.”

you make a peace sign from behind the phone.

“…ten outta ten,” he adds reluctantly. “would wear again. for science. or whatever.”

and in the comments, someone goes, “i want what they have.”

sukuna replies from your account—because of course he has the password—with: “die mad about it.”

but since testing lip products just on the lips is for cowards, you’ve upgraded.

this is science. clinical, methodical, incredibly serious influencer business. and sukuna? well, he’s your canvas. your unwilling, irritable, secretly-over-the-moon canvas. he walks into the room already shirtless—because at this point, he knows—arms crossed over his bare chest, all grumble and menace. “so what’s the experiment today, doc? you gonna write your damn @ on my forehead in pink gloss?”

“don’t tempt me,” you say sweetly, uncapping the new gloss. it’s called kissbomb ultra lacquer, and it smells like peaches. “this one claims to last twelve hours, transfer-proof, fade-resistant, and kink-safe.”

he blinks. “kink-safe?”

“don’t worry about it.” you grab his wrist and guide him to sit on the edge of the bed. “shirt off.”

“already is,” he mutters.

“pants too.”

he raises a brow. “...you testing or tryna get laid?”

“yes.”

you climb into his lap with the confidence of a scientist mid-breakthrough, gloss wand in one hand, determination in the other. you apply it slowly, precisely, like you’re prepping for war.

and then the kisses start.

soft little muahs on the corner of his jaw. one on the bridge of his nose. two on his neck, left and right, where his pulse ticks faster. one on each shoulder, then trailing down the hard curve of his bicep. his arms are crossed still, fists clenched, jaw tight—but his ears? red. his breathing? not as chill as he wants to seem.

you murmur, “don’t flex. you’ll smudge the print.”

“’m not flexing,” he says through gritted teeth. “this is just how i exist.”

you keep going. lips marking his collarbones, his ribs, his stomach. lower. every kiss leaving a little stain in a perfect pink imprint like someone went stamp! stamp! stamp! on your big scary man and turned him into a valentine’s day clearance bin.

“you know,” you say thoughtfully, inspecting your work, “you kinda look like the lesbian flag right now.”

he glares at you. “say that again and i’ll throw you out the window.”

you grin, not even fazed. “oh no. my hot queer ally boyfriend’s covered in lip prints. whatever will i do.”

the whole day, he walks around the apartment looking like a sexy battlefield. every mirror he passes, he pauses—just for a second—checking if they’re still there. (they are. of course they are. you chose a good gloss.)

he’s got one kiss mark on the dip of his spine. two on the inside of his thighs. one perfectly placed behind his ear that makes him twitch every time he catches the scent of peach.

“stop looking at me like that,” he growls at you from across the room, sprawled out on the couch later, sipping water and trying to act normal. “you look like a cat who just knocked over a vase.”

you climb on top of him again. inspect a few faded spots. reapply.

“just touching up my art,” you murmur. “quality control.”

he leans his head back and sighs, but his hands are already settling on your hips. there’s a glint in his eyes that says he’s so pretending to hate this. he’s so full of shit.

and when you post a blurry photo of your masterpiece—captioned “new gloss. 12 hour wear. boyfriend approved 💋”—you wake up the next morning to 4,700 comments and one furious growl from sukuna.

“who the fuck is asking if they can be next?”

you hum, flipping over in bed to kiss him right on the chest. “don’t worry, baby. the gloss may be long-lasting, but you’re the exclusive trial subject.” he grumbles, eyes half-lidded, smug despite himself.

“…damn right i am.”

kiss divider by @uzmacchiato

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julesss110 · 3 months ago

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TEXTING THEM “I WANT A BABY” ⊹

. . . ft. gn!reader x Yoichi Isagi, Meguru Bachira, Hyoma Chigiri, Rin Itoshi, Sae Itoshi, Ryusei Shidou, Reo Mikage, Seishiro Nagi, Michael Kaiser, Alexis Ness

cw: suggestive—MDNI; sassy men

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

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julesss110 · 3 months ago

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i do love the idea of katsuki being an older sibling to his classmates whether he wants to or not 😭 him being accepted into UA's class 1A with no intention of making friends but somehow ends up fitting into the constantly annoyed and begrudgingly caring older brother position as time goes by lol

---

mina: can you please please please accompany me and tsu-chan to go clothes shopping tomorrow?

katsuki: who the hell'd have time for that? go ask someone else.

mina: but but!! i need your fashion wisdom!!

tsuyu: the store we're going to has the jacket you were eyeing last week, by the way.

katsuki: ..fine, whatever. GOD. you guys are so annoying.

mina: yay~! we'll come over at three!

---

shouto: bakugou, have you seen my PE uniform?

katsuki: ha? how would i know?

tenya: did you misplace it somewhere?

shouto: im not sure.

katsuki, watching them blindly look for the uniform for 5 minutes:

katsuki: [mildly annoyed sigh]

katsuki: knowing your dumbass, you definitely left it on one of the chairs in the common room.

shouto: ah— it is here. thank you, bakugou. you're very perceptive.

katsuki: stop being so easily distracted all the damn time and maybe i won't have to be.

---

eijirou: isn't it your turn to wash the dishes?

denki, feigning ignorance: eeeh... is it..

hanta: dude. you should wash them before bakugou sees or you'll get scolded again.

katsuki: talkin' about me behind my back or what?

denki, eijirou & hanta: BAKUGOU?!

katsuki, walking to the sink: the hell? i'm just here for a drin— kaminari.

denki: WAHH— I'M SORRY I'LL DO THEM NOW!!!

katsuki, squinting: the sink better be clear by the time i get back or you're dead, sparky.

---

ochako, pursing her lips: hmm....

izuku: what's wrong?

ochako: they're selling mochi over there but.. my allowance this month is almost out. i'm deciding on whether or not i should still get some.

izuku: mochi does sound good! let me see how much i have on me.

katsuki, shoving two bags full of mochi into their hands: here.

izuku, surprised: when did you get these, kacchan?!

katsuki: just now. you fucks just wouldn't stop whining.

ochako: there's so much! and you got all the different flavors! thank you, bakugou!

izuku: yeah! thank you, kacchan!

katsuki, walking further: you're hurting my ears. just shut up and eat.

---

momo: here's some rice porridge, jirou.

kyouka, currently having a fever: thank you yaomomo. did you buy this?

momo: oh, bakugou actually made it for our breakfast. he heard you weren't feeling well so he decided to make something soothing. please do thank him yourself when you see him!

[later]

kyouka: thank you for the porridge, bakugou.

katsuki: whatever. it's winter and i wanted something warm. not a big deal.

___

+ some sketches/panels that i think give off very older sibling energy from katsuki

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