chonkvi

[chonkvi]

[chonkvi]

The last time you both fucked you knew he loved you. He didn’t say it, but he showed it.

The way he kissed your lips had you overthinking the action. It wasn’t that he didn’t kiss you before, but this time it was different, it had more meaning, it was gentle, unfamiliar, it lingered on your lips, leaving you eager for more.

You noticed his breathing became more shorter after the action, the man before you more flustered than before.

He caressed your temple with his fingers so gently, watching over you with endearing eyes. His eyes telling you everything you needed to know in that moment.

Then when you rode him you couldn’t help but pay attention to the smallest details. Like how he placed his hand on the lower of your back, holding you so close to him. How your name sounded coming from his lips, he said it with so much meaning so much want and need that it had you spiralling.

When you both came together, bodies united, you could hear his heartbeat increase as he held you in his arms. He held you so tight yet so gentle, scared to let you go, but not wanting to hurt you.

And as soon as those three words escaped his lips as he thought you fell asleep, you smiled to yourself knowing you was right all along.

[chonkvi]

It's okay if it takes a little longer than you thought.

[chonkvi]

| PAPRIKA + UMEMIYA HAJIME .

+cw. — fem!reader x prince!umemiya hajime, undertones of smut, angst, and fluff & strangers to lovers. | +wc. — 1k | +syn.— a tryst just before his big day and that was all it took to for him to be fearless. | +notes. — i do wanna write more. . .maybe continue it as mini series but lets see if the stars align or not! | redirect to blog navigation.

“Nobody needs to know about this,” Umemiya rasps against your shaky lips by breaking his tantalizingly lazy yet turbulent kiss.

“Yeah.” You breathe out a whisper, running your hands over his palms that rest on your cheeks. 

“Right.  . . Nobody.” His lips dash on yours again as his hands slowly travel down to your shoulders, deft hands, gnarly fingers slipping underneath the hem of your robe, little by little, peeling the robe off you. His Imperial Mantle conceals your body, always has been; since the day he laid his eyes on you. Even if the weight of it is too heavy to bear it alone sometimes, Umemiya believed that it was a little less when he was with you, when he saved you on that fierce stormy starless night. But even without it the high golden curtains and the pillar would provide both of you enough time to flee if anyone were to come, which is why Hiragi is standing at the advent of this gigantic hallway.

You feel the cold of the air grace one of your shoulders with goosebumps. Umemiya’s face is buried in the nook of your neck, one of his limbs holding the back of your nape keeping you in your place. still. The tip of his tongue licks your collarbones once before he flattens his tongue which travels from the head of your collarbone to the back of your ear lobes while his other limb follows the same trail from your waist up to your breast. His teeth nip your ear lobes at the same time as his hand squeezes your breasts making you stand on your tippy toes and then, you moan; the roused sigh flowing right into his ear making him recoil from this ravishing reality being reminded of his status as well as the consequences of his actions: that with such personage there come responsibilities followed by certain boundaries with it not leaving behind a promising morbidity either. You have always known that the tragedy that comes with the throne, and it never leaves you. It is epoxized to one fate and blood as if the other side of a coin thereby running from it was foolish, fighting against it is nothing but a pity so all you can do is to stand beside it.

Any pitchier than that, your voice would have echoed through the corridors. You have become exceptionally good at controlling your voice with the passage of time. His facial muscles squeeze at the thought of how cruel time it is that it passes. If only he could stop the time. . .

“We shouldn't do this,” Umemiya mumbled with a moan laced underneath, devouring desire palpable oozing from his breath. He skids away from you, saunting straight towards his inner chambers. Those fingers that have held a thousand swords, sparred day and night, fought battles that shook heaven and hell once refused to have the valor to disrobe you. Were you supposed to believe that? Your breath ceases at the bottom of your throat as you stand with your back glued against the wall in that gigantic empty corridor. There is a sound in the air. You can hear it; but no one is talking, neither walking or even taking a breath. You look at the end of the corridor only to see royal guard Hiragi standing just like before, a bronze statue except this time his palms are at the valley of his torso are twitching upon each other. 

You walk into his chambers finding him sitting at the edge of the bed with the crown of the prince in his hand, eyes scrutinizing it as if he could see the fate it holds once it finds its next rightful place since it has to find a new head to burden with a glorious purpose; since Umemiya would not be bearing the weight of such a burden anymore, after all, he is going to be appointed as the king today— a crown of heavier in status, weight, power and tragedy than before.

“Well, my knight, do you wish to save it after the coronation ceremony?”

Umemiya nods. . . simply nods, like six times in a row as if he did not expect such a question from you.  A crescent curve along your lips appears as you mumble to yourself, “Such a puppy.”

You two have not gotten to that stage yet. Umemiya stands up straightening his spine as you walk towards him. You take one good look at him, the knight you met that night before you fix his robe. You tie the knot of the laces of his dress shirt that has been undone by those same fingers not so long ago. Then, you move on to tying his coronation mantle. Umemiya looks at you as you take your time preparing him for his coronation ceremony. He thinks it is an act of galore valor that you can take responsibility for the things you mess up. 

“Are you nervous Haji?” 

“A little,” He says grabbing your palm, ceasing your movements as you were just about to deprive him from the touch of your hands. 

You look up. His eyes are as dark as the ocean. Your fingers clamp around his wrist pulling it on your chest. “Here.” You place your other hand on the left side of his chest. “No matter what or who turns their back to you I will never.” His eyebrows pinch ever so slightly that it is barely pinnable. The sincerity you have in those sparkling eyes, the loyalty that courses through your veins whenever you are around him, the devotion you have when you touch him is too much for him. It scares him. It scares his sanity to think what if . . . he loses you or something much worse . . .

“I know, my love.” He chimes leaning down. “I know.” His voice is now a weak whisper, a prayer as it says your name. His forehead touches yours as his free hand rests on yours which is still on his chest.

[chonkvi]

“wait, are you really scared?”

you groan into the pillow you have your face smushed into. you know you’ll have indents on your cheeks from how hard you’re holding it, but it’s either that or gorey jump scares.

“yes, touya, i’m fucking scared.”

you hear his chuckle from the other side of the couch and fight the urge to smack him with the pillow. if only it wasn’t the one thing protecting you right now.

“aw,” he coos, dripping in condescension, “poor baby. c’mere—i’ll save you.”

your snort is muffled by the fabric, but you scoot across the couch toward his voice anyway. in a rather impressive display of coordination, you manage to drag yourself up to settle on his chest—all without losing your blinder.

“there ya go,” touya murmurs, plucking the pillow from your hands. you squawk, reaching to grab it back before the next scene.

“why are you like this? give me it—“

you’re cut off by sudden darkness. you blink, and as your eyes adjust, you see much more of your boyfriend’s skin than you had just a second ago.

“touya.”

“yeah, babe.”

“i am in your shirt.”

you feel the laugh rumble under your palms. “yeah, you are.”

“why am i in your shirt?”

“would you rather watch the movie?”

“….good point.”

you don’t have to see his face to know the grin is there when he pats your head through the fabric. you rest your cheek against his sternum, settling in to his warmth. you can concede that it is much better than the pillow, especially when his fingers drag up and down your back, surprisingly soft for the dog that’s all bite. it nearly puts you to sleep until you feel him startle underneath you. against your ear, his heart kicks, fast and sudden.

“…..are you scared?”

he pokes you square in the forehead through the fabric. “of course not. shut up.”

you bite the inside of your cheek to stifle the grin, even if he can’t see it. even the roughest dogs are afraid of something.

[chonkvi]

casual | dabi/touya todoroki

“My mom wants to meet you.”

It’s a sentence uttered as Touya pulls the T-shirt he’d discarded earlier (while he was pushing you toward your bed and sucking your tongue into his mouth) over his head. It comes as a shock, lying in your bed completely bare, still struggling to catch your breath. It shouldn’t make you feel excited in the way that it does, not when Touya has been more than clear about the nature of the relationship between the two of you. Nothing serious. No commitment.

Casual.

notes: hiiiii so this is just something I’ve been working on for a bittttt it’s inspired by causal by Chappell roan it’s nothing special but I just couldn’t get the idea out of my head so yeahhhh sorry for the severe lack of smut in a friends with benefits fic btw ahsjsjsjs thanks for reading hope u enjoy!!<3

warnings: 18+, minors dni, f!reader, explicit content, no quirk au, oral f!recieving, friends to lovers, friends with benefits, the todorokis are healing, dabi is called Touya throughout literally the entire thing

words: 4.1k

“My mom wants to meet you.”

It’s a sentence uttered as Touya pulls the T-shirt he’d discarded earlier (while he was pushing you toward your bed and sucking your tongue into his mouth) over his head. It comes as a shock, lying in your bed completely bare, still struggling to catch your breath. It shouldn’t make you feel excited in the way that it does, not when Touya has been more than clear about the nature of the relationship between the two of you. Nothing serious. No commitment.

Casual. 

“What?” You aren’t sure how you should respond, or what the right answer is. He shrugs, buttoning his jeans.

“You don’t have to. Just promised her I’d ask.” He says, turning around to dig through your dresser. He pulls out one of the shirts he’s left there and a pair of underwear for you, tossing the items your way. You change, covering yourself up before moving to sit in the middle of the bed, legs tucked underneath you. 

“You’ve been talking to her about me?” You question. You know it’s not what he wants to hear. 

Keep reading

[chonkvi]

hmm, i’m thinking about swimmer! satoru going to the olympics. >:D

gn! reader, smut, minors and ageless blocks do not interact!

swimmer! satoru who is super excited to go to paris for the olympics. he’s always locked up at the swimming pool and gym in japan, doing laps and training with suguru.

swimmer! satoru who is obviously there to win, but does he really need to take it that seriously? he’s the best in his field, no one even comes close to his time. so can it hurt if he has a little fun while he’s there?

swimmer! satoru who plans on trying out as many athletes as possible. he’s in the best shape of his life and it’s not often he gets to let loose like this! he even has an unofficial bet with suguru (who pretends to be above it, but still can’t help it if he indulges slightly) about who can get with the most athletes.

swimmer! satoru who’s done for as soon as you end up in his bed. a pretty, little rising star in the athlete world. who knew you were so soft and tight, your warm walls practically milking his cock.

swimmer! satoru who doesn’t want to fuck any other athletes now. he always ends up by your door at the end of the night, knocking till you open, before immediately kissing you and closing the door behind him with his foot.

swimmer! satoru who whines into your neck, telling you how good you are, how he’s never felt anything like your soft body. who has to bite down his lip, his brows furrowed as he sinks into you, desperately trying not to cum immediately.

swimmer! satoru who not only wins competition after competition but also wins the public's hearts. every article is about him, there are countless edits and pictures with thousands of likes.

swimmer! satoru who only has eyes for you. immediately going to find you and excitedly announcing that he’s won again. (you already knew, you watched the competition on your phone.) before claiming that he deserves an award and shoving you into the nearest changing room to bury his face between your legs.

divider by cafekitsune

[chonkvi]

You don’t think Satoru fully understands why secrecy is so important to you, why going to his place on the weekends is better than walking on eggshells at yours where Suguru sleeps right down the hall. Your brother already looks at you differently as is, ever since that night you dragged Satoru to your room. He’s suspicious at best, and worse—well.

It’s safe to say you tuck away the thought of him knowing under copious layers of guilt.

When you tell Satoru this, he merely pats your head and smiles. “Whatever you say, sweetheart.”

The pattern repeats for the next few weeks. On Friday and Saturday, Suguru leaves for work, and you slip out of the house with a note on the fridge letting him know you’ll be home late; the one occasion he calls Satoru when you don’t answer your phone after staying later than you should.

“Oh, your sister?” You wonder how he can sound so calm with one broad hand cupping the back of your head, keeping you pinned in place against his bed as he splits you open on his cock. “No, haven’t seen her.”

Other times, you show up in the tiniest top and the shortest cut-offs you own, hoping for something quick and messy after telling Suguru and your dad you’d actually be home on time—for once. 

But Satoru doesn’t play fair.

You know he can feel your eyes on him from the other side of the couch and how he fights a lazy smirk that threatens to split across his face at how obvious you’re being, even though you make a valiant attempt pretending to be busy with the book in your lap.

In your defense, it was hard to look anywhere else when he’s hunched over his controller in nothing but grey cotton shorts and the bracelet you bought him all those weeks ago, before this thing between you two started being—whatever you’d call two people sleeping together with attachments and no labels.

He hasn’t brought it up, and you’re too scared to ask. 

“One more game. Okay, sweetheart?” he tells you.

But then you move across the couch and crawl into his lap—chest to back. His eyes draw away from the TV several seconds later when you slip your shirt up over your head until you expose your chest to the conditioned air. And you watch him stare in fascination as your nipples turn into tight little peaks, his tongue pushing against the side of his cheek.

You shoot him a little smile over your shoulder.

He fucks you on your back, his hot breath washing over your throat and his tongue teasing over your breasts. "I like you when you’re needy for me, baby. This little cunt gets so nice and tight for me, so wet…just—ah—fuck."

Other times you hardly walk through his front door before he's picking you up and pinning you against his kitchen counter, hands slipping up your shirt and inside your shorts with a possessiveness that makes your head spin, his semi-hard cock grinding into your thigh.

"Pretty girl with a prettier cunt," he pants softly against your neck, one knee moving between your legs to spread them further apart for the hand peeling aside your underwear. "How’d I get so lucky?"

You shiver, mewling when his thumb slips over your clit in messy circles, and you can’t help how your hips jerk into the feeling. 

He mutters something about fucking shorts before roughly palming your ass—if only he could see the smile you're muffling into your elbow at how needy he sounds.

[chonkvi]

I have the silliest most self indulgent thought about Dabi who owns the music store u work next door to and his shitty band practices there and u can always hear them play bc u share a wall and how after he meets u and finds out ur fav song u hear him play it all the time

[chonkvi]

"Dynamight please inform your wife it is not in anyone's best interest for her to comment 'He look so good ima suck the skin off his shit until there's nothing left as soon as he gets home' under the posts on the Official Dynamight Instagram."

[chonkvi]

Loner Megumi does not like having his photo taken. Never has, never will. However, throughout the years he had come to enjoy the position behind the camera instead. Even before he met you, he would sometimes just snap a few photos for the hell of it.

You were the complete opposite, thriving being the subject in front of the lense. Your personal space had always been littered with tons of photos, and your interest for sealing memories in the form of pictures only escalated as you grew older. Along with your friends, you always took pictures every chance you got so not a single moment you felt was worth remembering would ever disappear into the abyss.

In one way, the pairing of you and Megumi worked out perfectly. You loved having every moment captured, and Megumi did exactly that without having to be asked, resulting in a series of candid photos you absolutely adored.

But you wished Megumi would join in on the pictures more often. You did, at times, sneak photos of him, only for you to admire on your phone. But the moment he caught on, he started to make that process a lot harder. And sure, every once in a while you were able to complain enough to have him join you for one singular posed photo — but you could count on one hand how many times that had happened throughout the span of your relationship.

This would forever haunt you. With your extreme desire to eternalise every moment, it was devastating when the person you cared the most about — the person you wanted to capture the most memories with — made it such a battle for you.

It also broke your heart a little that it seemed like he didn’t want any of these tokens of the two do you together for himself. He did have you as his phone wallpaper, but he got shy every time someone mention it, shifting the conversation in a completely different direction instantly.

The situation was how it was. There wasn’t much you could do other than keep persisting and pushing for any type of photos together, and on a few occasions, you got what you wanted.

Like the time you had to fix a new passport photo.

Obviously, Megumi tagged along for all the errands you had to run that day, lending a helping hand whenever it was needed. And when you entered the small photo booth, he waited patiently outside the curtain for you to finish and the photos to develop.

“You really are the prettiest girl in the world,” he breathed casually as he picked the photos out of the tray to study the four small squares.

“Stop,” you chuckled bashfully, snatching the sheet out of his hands to study them yourself, seeing if they were fitting for a passport.

“Never.” He gave you a warm smile, carefully tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear.

Brushing off his sweet sentimentality, you had to jump at the opportunity. “So, you know, there’s room for two in there,” you said innocently, knitting your arms behind your back and batting your eyelashes.

He groaned instantly, his insecurities slowly causing his posture to turn slacked. Before he got the chance to protest, you opened your mouth again. “Just four quick snaps, Megumi! It’s a shame we haven’t done it as a couple already!” Staring at him with pleading eyes, his facial features eventually softened as a small smile of surrender painted his lips.

“Fine.” Choking back the eager squeal, you grabbed his hand and pulled him into the booth behind you. Shuffling within the small confinement, he sat down on the stool first before you sat down on his lap. You could feel his nerves tense up a little as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

“Try to relax,” you cooed reassuringly. “It’s just us in here. No one can see us.” It seemed like your statement helped a little when his embrace loosened. “Ready?” He nodded weakly, and soon enough the screen started to count down from 3… 2… 1.

Snap!

The first picture was just a cute and simple picture of you smiling, though Megumi’s smile was a lot more reserved than yours. For the next one, you circled your arms around his neck to squeeze your cheek against his, earning you a low chuckle — perfectly timed for the next picture.

“This isn’t so bad, is it?” You asked cheerfully.

He rolled his eyes slightly, hint of amusement on his features. “You’re really loving it, aren’t you?”

You bit your bottom lip, nodding eagerly, happy to see he was actually smiling and there was a softness to his gaze, telling you he was a lot more comfortable than he had expected.

And while you got a little lost in his eyes, something that wasn’t exactly unusual for you, the booth snapped the third picture while you engaged in small chatter.

“Okay, last one,” you said, being brought back to the moment.

“What do we do-“ Megumi didn’t even get to finish his sentence before you crashed your lips into his, smiling into the kiss, his cheek heating up against the touch of your hand as you waited for the last picture to be taken.

Snap!

The look on his face when you pulled away had you giggle, nearly red as a tomato, knowing your sudden attack of physical affection had been captured forever.

“Come on.” You were absolutely jittery with giddiness as you both stumbled out the booth to take a look at the pictures.

If it was even possible, they came out better than you had expected. There was a softness in his eyes when he looked at you, and you were so happy you had finally managed to get a physical evidence of it for you to gush over whenever you wanted to.

Or so you thought.

About a month later, you were casually going through your photos to create some sort of system in the ones you hadn’t gotten the opportunity of hanging up or framing yet — and you turned absolute frantic when you couldn’t find the four small momentous pictures. You would probably never be able to convince Megumi to stuff himself into a claustrophobic box again.

You were seated on your bedroom floor with all the pictures sprayed out in front of you, carefully flipping through the piles. “Megumi? Have you seen the photo booth pictures of us?” Tilting your head up to look at him, who was seated at your desk trying to get some school work done.

“No, sorry,” he shrugged, not even turning to look at you. A disappointed sigh slipped past your lips, hunching over the chaos surrounding you.

Well… what could you do? If it had gone missing, which was definitely a bummer, you had at least managed to get him to go along with your antics for once. In theory, you should be able to do it again.

Eventually, you forgot about the four perfect little pictures you had managed to get your hands on, simply continuing the mission of getting pictures together.

Another two weeks passed, and after a long day of exhaustingly boring classes, both of you just wanted to relax and order some food. “If you get me my wallet from the kitchen, I’ll pay.”

You jumped up at his offer, hurrying out of his bedroom and scattering over to his kitchen counter, hand freezing over his wallet as a familiar piece of paper stuck out between the slit. Your curiosity got the best of you, opening his wallet only to be greeted by the four missing pictures of the two of you stuffed behind the plastic film.

That sneaky bastard had managed to snatch the pictures without you noticing to keep them for himself — but you couldn’t help but feel absolutely smitten, knowing the guy was just too embarrassed to ask you to keep the pictures for himself.

For all the times you’d wished he too would have something as mundane as a picture of the two of you together to gush about, it warmed your heart knowing he now carried it with him wherever he went.

With a loving smile, you simply closed his wallet again and pretend like you hadn’t seen anything. If you were to bring it up, he’d just try to brush it all off while his face would turn increasingly more red.

But you knew, and that was enough. Now you finally understood why you noticed the tiniest quirk of his lips every time he pulled out his wallet.

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a/n this is just a small and rushed loner megumi and popular reader drabble while i'm working on something a lot longer for someone i haven't written for before tihi

©hiraethwrote 2024 . all rights reserved. reposting, translating and otherwise plagarisim is prohibited

[chonkvi]

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[chonkvi]

01:58 | Geto Suguru

“Can I tell you a secret?”

Suguru’s fingers trail the small of your back, trace a path along the familiar skin.

“Well if you insist,” he replies with a soft smile. Your fingers pinch teasingly at his side, giggles falling from your lips when he bites at your cheek in retaliation.

“I’m scared of the dark.”

His laughter subsides at this, glancing about the dark of his room. The only light breaking the expanse is the beams of the moon sneaking through his blinds.

“I sleep with a nightlight.”

Suguru almost laughs, pokes your side and teases you for your juvenile fear. He pauses at the seriousness in your eyes, the way you shyly look at him from where you lay beneath him.

“I’ve never seen one in your room,” he finally decides on, nose nudging into the crook of your neck as he relaxes against you.

“I hide it before you come over.”

“Why? Were you afraid I’d tease you?”

Your fingers run through the dark tresses of his hair, looping it through your fingers as you contemplate.

“No, I know you wouldn’t. I guess I’m a little less scared when you’re there.”

You feel Suguru’s grin against your skin at your words, though neither of you take note. He pulls you closer to him, presses a kiss to your neck.

“I’m scared of the ocean,” he whispers to you.

“But we were just at the beach last week, we—

Fingers trace a familiar path across your skin, his warm breath puffs against you.

“I guess I’m a little less scared when you’re there.”

[chonkvi]

roomate with benefits!geto who returns from work, stressed, to the apartment you share with him. he's ready for a long shower, only to find you in the sole bathroom the place had taking a bath.

your nude body relaxing in the pink bubbly water, a cigarette between your fingers with the smoke lazily dancing above the tip. soft melodies coming from your speaker fill the cramped space with a soothing hum.

you look up at him and smile softly. he returns the gesture, a slight tint of fatigue in his expression. his tired eyes lazily scan your body, taking in your figure as he leans against the doorframe.

"how was work?" you ask.

"awful," he sighs.

you don't answer. instead, you take a drag of your cigarette and gesture with your finger for him to get closer. he huffs a soft laugh, pulling the hairband from his long hair before he starts unbuttoning his shirt with one hand, his eyes never leaving yours.

he undresses until he's down to his briefs, then sits on the edge of the bathtub and takes the cigarette from your fingers. he takes a long drag, the smoke curling out from his nose as he exhales with a loud sigh.

"wanna get in?" you offer.

-

the splashes of the bath water almost compete with envy with the wet sounds of your pussy being pounded. geto was laying down on the bath, his neck on the pink headrest you bought online, his long legs spreading alongside the small bathtub. his fingers were gripping the sides of your hips so hard that they may leave a couple bruises. you were riding him - well, you were on top of him while he fucked you.

from your point of view, you could appreciate his expressions. how his brows furrowed, how his teeth sank on his bottom lip, how his eyes rolled back into his skull when you swayed your hips in circular motions. he was a sight for sore eyes with his pale skin flushed from the pleasure and his black hair damp from the water.

his length was buried deep inside your walls, his balls slamming against your ass when he thrusted up. he may've been tired, but that never meant a mediocre fuck. no, he always went all out with you. always so passionate.

"fuck- you're being so good to me, always so good. being my little stress ball, my little toy to relieve my stress, hm? you like it when i use you like this?"

[chonkvi]

⟢ ┈ The first time you stay over at your boyfriend’s place, Satoru does that thing where he likes to play around ‘n tease you by wearing your clothes. 18+ only, MDNI

Fresh out of the shower, you try to scour his room for your skirt and tank top but they’re nowhere to be found. You overhear him and his best friend, Suguru, laughing from outside the room, very obviously up to no good. You decide to put on the next best thing.

You find Satoru who’s somehow managed to put on your unzipped skirt around his slutty waist and Suguru who’s still struggling to put on your tank. The pair of laughter is put on a full-stop once you show up to the living room in nothing but Satoru’s boxers on, using one arm to cover your breasts.

The disbelief in Satoru’s face is unmistakable. You struggle to cover both breasts with one arm as you extend an open palm to Suguru, whose jaw has seemed to have lost its bolts. “I’ll take that. Thank you very much.”

“No, thank you.” Suguru slowly nods in approval, eyes glued to your lower half, watching how his best friend’s boxers ride up your ass in a wedgie as you walk away with your tank top in tow. “Hey!” Suguru soothes the offended part of his arm after earning a punch from Satoru.

“That’s my girlfriend!”

[chonkvi]

your daughter hates it with her dad, satoru gojo, covers his eyes with his blindfold, crying out for him to show him his eyes. satoru just can't help but laugh at her small cries, shoving her tiny fingers in his face trying to pull off his blind. it's become a small game for her now. she doesn't understand that daddy needs his blindfold.

whenever he comes in, she wobbles over to the door, right behind you. her shy face is hiding in your white skirt. you're smiling at satoru who gives you a soft peck on the lips.

"nice to see you my dear wife," he muses, and then kneels down to look at his daughter. she's shrieking with excitement now, knowing whats to come. satoru laughs at her sudden excitement, reaching to tickle her sides.

"show me, strange man! show me your eyes!" she yells, hitting him with her paper fan. he mock winces, holding his arms as if he had gotten hurt.

"ouch! such a mighty warrior..." he mutters, and you bite your lip to stop yourself form beaming. the two of them are adorable together, and you watch your daughter giggle, her sulky pout gone in seconds.

she's still reaching for her, tiny hands swatting him away, "this is not daddy. daddy has pretty eyes."

satoru groans, "fine, fine," and then he uncovers his bind to smile at her, "happy now?"

"daddy!" she screams, jumping onto his lap, "i knew it was you!"

satoru rubs her back before looking back at you snapping a picture, "since when did she get so demanding?"

you roll your eyes, biting your lip as you try not to laugh, "she's your daughter."

and then he grins in that endearing manner before proudly looking at the fiesty girl in his arms. then he winks at you, pretty blue eyes sparkling, "damn right she is."

[chonkvi]

Ryomen Sukuna watches his nephew—who has made an awful habit of playing with his food rather than eating it—carefully, narrowing his eyes when the two and a half year-old grabs his plastic bowl of fruit with his chubby hands. 

“You better not,” he says sternly. 

Yuuji Itadori looks up at him, his big brown eyes sparkling mischievously as he coos. He lifts his arms with a smile, raising the bowl above his head. 

“Don’t you dare—”  

“Bwah!” Yuuji throws the bowl, and it clatters noisily to the ground, the fruit inside of it landing wetly on the kitchen floor. 

“What is wrong with you?!” Sukuna groans irritatedly, grabbing the boy from his high chair and dangling him by his ankle. “How many times must I tell you that food is for eating and not for throwing?!” 

Now upside-down, Yuuji bursts into laughter. His eyes shut, and he swings his arms back and forth, completely unaware of how pissed his uncle is.

“Enough of your giggling. This is not for your entertainment, you brat.” 

“Brat!” Yuuji repeats. 

“No, you’re the brat!” Sukuna hisses through his teeth.

“No, you brat!” Yuuji babbles in between happy giggles, repeatedly using his new favorite word. “Brat, brat, brat!” 

You come downstairs, and your face splits into a wide smile at the scene. “Aw, I hope I’m not interrupting your playtime.” 

Sukuna rolls his eyes and rotates Yuuji so he’s no longer upside-down, passing the giggly bundle to you. “You are just in time. First he throws his food for the umpteenth time, and now he calls me a brat.” 

You snicker, resting Yuuji on your hip as your free hand fixes his messy pink hair. “Is that so, Yuuji? Well, you are right,” you say as you give Sukuna a wink, “he is just a big brat.” 

Your boyfriend groans as you and Yuuji laugh, grumbling something underneath his breath as he leaves the kitchen. 

But you catch the tiny hint of a smile. You always do.