#and ik's just like I THOUGHT YOU ALREADY KNEW???????

[thef1diary]

THESE DIRTBAG!DANNY FICS EAT I LOVE THESE. LIKE IM SORRY BUT I GENUINELY DON’T HAVE GOOD IDEAS AND YET I LOVE THIS SO MUCH. HMMM… LEMME THINK.. (i have never done this before sorry babe)… MAYBE SOMETHING LIKE BEING INLOVE WITH HIS TATTOOED THIGHS/ADAMS APPLE (two completely different things ik) AND A LITTLE BIT OF A TOXIC RELATIONSHIP I KNOW ITS ALOT TO ASK AND IM SORRY. LOVE YOU SO SO MUCH ❤️❤️❤️❤️

— thank youuu!! I did a lil something on his thighs so lemme bring the attention to Danny’s adam’s apple. Em knows how I went feral over it recently and I knew I had an ask about it somewhere! 18+ content below

You had no business being this obsessed. It was just an adam’s apple—a piece of cartilage, for God’s sake—but on Daniel, it was mesmerizing. The way it bobbed when he swallowed or spoke, the way it stood out when he tilted his head back, the way it seemed to mock you with how much you wanted to sink your teeth into it.

You were straddling him now, his shirt hanging loose on your body, the buttons barely holding together as his hands roamed under the hem. He was smirking, always so goddamn cocky, but your gaze stayed locked on the column of his throat. His head tilted back against the couch, exposing his neck, and you felt heat pool between your thighs.

“You’re staring again, sweetheart,” Daniel drawled, his voice deep and gravelly, the vibration of it visible in the rise and fall of his throat.

“I’m not,” you lied, your eyes betraying you as they trailed back to his throat.

“Oh, you’re definitely staring,” he teased, his hand sliding up to the back of your thigh. “You’ve got a thing for my neck, huh? You're staring at it like you’re starving.”

Your cheeks burned, but you didn’t deny it. How could you? The thoughts racing through your mind were filthy beyond reason. You wanted to kiss him, bite him, lick every inch of that thick neck until he was a panting mess beneath you. You wanted to feel his adam’s apple bob against your tongue as he swallowed your name, wanted to sink your teeth into the tendon that stretched so perfectly whenever he turned his head.

“Fuck off,” you muttered, shifting in his lap, trying to mask the wetness pooling in your panties. But Daniel wasn’t having it.

“Aw, don’t get shy on me now,” he crooned, his fingers tracing slow, deliberate circles on your inner thigh. “You’re not very subtle, you know. I can feel the way you clench every time I swallow.”

You clenched again, your thighs squeezing around him involuntarily, and his laugh was a low, dirty thing that made your stomach flip.

“Fuck, you’re obsessed,” he said, his hand sliding up to your waist, holding you steady as you tried to wiggle away. “You wanna bite me, don’t you? Leave a pretty little mark right here?” He dragged two fingers up the column of his neck, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed for emphasis.

Your breath hitched, and he noticed. Of course he noticed.

“Go on,” he dared, his voice dropping an octave, rough and teasing. “Get it out of your system. Or do I need to beg you to choke me first?”

Your head snapped up at his words, your stomach flipping violently. You hadn’t said a single thing about that. But now that he’d put it out there, the idea lodged itself firmly in your mind. Your fingers twitched, and your gaze darted to his throat, imagining how his skin would feel under your hands—hot and firm, his pulse pounding against your palm.

“You’re insane,” you muttered, but it came out weaker than you intended, breathier, like you were already caving.

“I’m not the one eye-fucking someone’s neck,” he shot back, smirking. “But don’t stop now, sweetheart. I love this attention.”

Your hands trembled as they found their way to his neck, your thumbs brushing over his adam’s apple. His pulse thumped against your fingers, steady but quickening. His throat flexed as he swallowed, and your breath hitched at the way it felt under your touch.

“Fuck,” he muttered, his eyes hooded as he watched you. “That all you got? Thought you wanted to leave a mark.”

His words spurred you on, and you surged forward, your lips finding the curve of his throat. You kissed him there, soft and tentative at first, but it wasn’t enough. Your teeth scraped against his skin, and when he groaned, low and guttural, you bit down just enough to feel the muscle under your teeth.

“Goddamn,” he rasped, his hands finding your hips and gripping them hard. “Knew you were filthy, but this? Shit, sweetheart.”

You kissed and licked your way up to his adam’s apple, your tongue flicking over it as it bobbed. He cursed again, the sound rough and desperate, and his hips bucked against you, sending a jolt of heat straight to your cunt.

His adam’s apple moved against your tongue, and it was intoxicating—the rough texture of his skin, the way his muscles shifted beneath your lips, the sound of his groan rumbling in your ears.

“I can feel you twitching,” you murmured against his skin, letting your teeth graze the protrusion. “Does it turn you on? Knowing I can’t stop thinking about marking you up?”

Daniel’s laugh was low and breathless, his hips jerking up against you. “You’re a fucking menace,” he said, his voice raspier now, rougher, like your attention was unraveling him.

“Maybe,” you admitted, your lips curling into a smile as you pressed another soft kiss to his adam’s apple. Then, without warning, you sucked hard, your teeth scraping lightly against it.

Daniel’s reaction was immediate. His fingers dug into your hips hard enough to leave bruises, and a deep, guttural groan ripped from his throat. “Shit, you’re gonna kill me,” he muttered, his hands sliding up to the small of your back, pulling you tighter against him.

You grinned, your tongue flicking over the reddened skin you’d just claimed. “Not until I’ve had my fill,” you teased, your lips ghosting over his throat again, taking your time to savor the taste of him—the faint tang of sweat and salt and something that was undeniably Daniel.

“You love this, don’t you?” he said, his voice rough, his breath uneven. “You love knowing I’ll let you do whatever you want. Choke me, mark me up—hell, I’ll let you ruin me, sweetheart. Just say the word.”

You laughed breathlessly, your tongue flicking over the spot you’d just bitten, your hands tightening around his neck as you rocked your hips against him.

“Don’t tempt me,” you whispered, your lips brushing his ear. “I might just take you up on that.”

And based on the way he bucked against you, hard and desperate, you knew he’d actually let you.

want more dirtbag!danny? send me an ask with your filthiest thoughts and it’ll get answered during one of my dirty drabble days

[grimmweepers]

— ☆ 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝚰𝐎𝐒𝚰𝐓𝐘 𝐊𝚰𝐋𝐋𝐒

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: you’ve seen lucifer’s demon form but you can’t shake the feeling that’s it’s not all he is. what if there was something darker beneath his beautiful visage? you ask to see more but lucifer warns you it may be too much for mortal eyes. as he slowly unveils the facets of his true self, you wonder if you can love something incomprehensible? and more importantly, can it love you back?

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: OM!LUCIFER x GN!reader, SFW but slightly suggestive, DARK ROMANCE ♥️, HORROR ELEMENTS, implied sex but no smut, established relationship but in the earlier stages, light angst, celestial war mention, he calls you ‘my dear’, demon x human, monster romance(?), ik my title is ‘curiosity kills’ but i promise no one dies 2.0k wc. | masterlist

𝐚/𝐧: woo! my first fic for 2025. halloween is long gone but spookyookyooky vibes are forever. i haven't written for lucifer (or the obey me fandom) since 2021 so please be kind! i love when artists draw the demons as monster-like so it inspired me to write this

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

They say curiosity killed the cat but nobody ever warns you what happens when the thing you seek is something you love. Sometimes curiosity doesn’t just kill, it pulls you into the depths and reminds you that some paths were never meant to be tread at all. 

You knew Lucifer’s demon form. Every time he brought it out, you couldn’t miss it. No one did. Those horns curling from his head, those raven wings that stretched with an elegance befitting for the pride incarnate, the diamond birthmark adorning his forehead. He looked every inch the fallen angel. Dangerous. Powerful. But still akin to something recognisable. Something human. That was what you thought his “demon form” meant, or at least the extent of it. 

But the closer you got to him, emotionally, physically—you started to suspect there’d be more. This was Lucifer, after all. The same Morning Star who watched the Celestial Realm itself fracture, the one who waged war and defied his own Father for his sister’s sake. Of course, there would be layers to him, parts that are hidden beneath polished veneers that he might not want you to see.

The revelation came gradually, though not accidentally. He’d never risk an accident with something like this. It wasn’t just about protecting you, it was also about managing what it would mean for him to be fully seen.

It began one night in his room. His usual form was already on display, horns casting long shadows on the walls as his wings arched lazily behind him. You were comfortable with this version of him, so much so that you’d leaned into his shoulder, tracing his horns absentmindedly as he read aloud from some aged, prodigious book. The question had been on your mind but you didn’t realise what you’d said until the words were out of your mouth. 

“Is there more?” You asked concretely.

He stilled, halting his finger mid-sentence against the page. “More?” his voice was neutral like always. 

“Of… this,” you gestured vaguely at him. “Your form. You expect me to believe this is the Avatar of Pride’s only face?”  

The jest was meant to lighten the mood, but he didn’t laugh. Instead, he closed the book and turned his gaze on you. His eyes burned a little brighter—sharper. “What you see now is what I allow you to see. There are parts of me not meant for human eyes,” he said softly. 

“So you’ve locked those parts away?”

“Not locked,” he corrected you. “Contained. Managed.”

That should have been the end of it but you couldn’t let it go. Not after seeing a flicker of hesitation in his face. Or perhaps it was fear. So you would’ve let it go until you wondered: 

What could possibly unnerve Lucifer?

———

The first time he showed you, it was brief. Something of a test. 

“Don’t move,” he instructed, “and don’t look away.”

You stood in his study, your heart pounding as he stepped back, seeing his usual form dissolve into something more. His wings expanded, shifting like spilled ink on water. His horns lengthened, spiraling like gnarled roots of an oak tree, and his skin took on a strange sheen, as though it couldn’t decide whether it was flesh or something far older. 

But it was his eyes that terrified you. The whites were gone, replaced by an endless, tormenting black. You felt like you were being pulled into them, swallowed by the power of something vast and unknowable.

However, there was also heat that felt familiar, pressing into you like his breath fanning over your skin in the dead of night, when his hands explored every crevice on your body. This form, alien as it was, still carried the same possessive hunger. You had to grip onto the edge of a nearby table to steady yourself.  

And then, as quickly as it came, it receded. His wings folded back, his horns shrank and his eyes returned to that familiar crimson. “Enough for tonight,” you were assailed by the sound of his shoes clicking against the hardwood as he made his way to you. 

Something, he thought, was not quite right. You were shaken, yes, but not disturbed. He had expected you to avert your eyes, to flinch or look away lest the weight of his true form crush your sanity. Yet you watched him with defiance in your expression and more unsettling still, he found himself watching you back. What was it that kept you here? What had driven you to face something so unnatural and still hold your ground?

———

The second time was different. 

You were sitting at the edge of his bed with your legs tucked beneath you. His shirt hung loosely on your frame as the scent of him clung to the fabric. Much like other nights, you’d spent this one wrapped around each other until exhaustion claimed you both.

Lucifer suddenly tugged at his shirt and after your eyes fell on him, you felt something gnawing in your stomach. But you were surprised when he only asked with a casual cadence, 

“Do you trust me?”

You nodded like it was perfectly normal to place your earnest trust in a demon like him. You’d already given yourself to him in every way that mattered, baring your soul just as he had bared his body to you time and time again.

Fond with your answer, he stood up and smiled. “Then close your eyes.”

When you opened them, the world felt…wrong.

What you saw had to have been a dream-picture because his form was towering enough to barely fit the space and his wings no longer looked like they belonged to anything earthly. The feathers were shifting, like they had been replaced by shards of black glass catching onto nonexistent light. His horns gleamed like molten metal and his face wasn’t entirely his. It was flickering between the Lucifer you knew and something you couldn’t name but felt in the deepest part of your being. 

The diamond on his forehead began to glow, its light blotting shapes in all angles. And then it split, revealing a vertical slit of an unblinking eye that stared into you—not at you, but into you, through you.

Somewhere in between you must’ve hauled yourself onto the floor and stumbled back because your knees were not on the mattress anymore but on wood. A pressure built in your chest but you simply couldn’t look away.

Lucifer didn’t speak, he just watched you like before but this time you felt as though every secret you’d ever buried was laid bare. It wasn’t until he eventually spoke your name that you realised you were crying.

“Breathe,” he said, kneeling before you. His voice was echoing like it was coming from inside you. “I told you it wasn’t meant for human eyes. We can stop.”

“It’s okay, it’s just…a lot,” you said, trembling but not from the cold.

He approached you, his hand eerily warm against your cheek as he wiped your tears and helped you to your feet. “You’re doing better than most would. I’m proud of you.” 

“Does it ever hurt?” you swallowed hard, like there was rough rope lodged down your throat. The change was not as graceful as you thought it would be. It came ripping out of him like it was something he constantly suppressed. 

“No,” you heard a break of vulnerability in his display. “But it can be lonely.”

“Lonely?” 

“It is a grave reminder that demons exist to fear. Sometimes to worship. But never to love.”

Never to love because defending love was what made him this way.

Once respite had settled, a look of sullen reflection had overcome Lucifer’s face, wondering if this left you with little desire to see more. 

———

Before the third time came, he warned you about the strain it might put on your mind, “This time might be dangerous.” But you insisted and he remained cautious. 

When it happened, it wasn’t in the confines of his room but outside, beneath the yawning void of the Devildom’s starless sky. He told you it would be safer this way. For both of you.

His transformation hit you like a violent wind. Lucifer didn’t just change, he expanded uncontainably into something monstrous, his body shimmering like a dark mirage. His horns were jagged spires, sharp enough to cleave through the Celestial Palace itself and you couldn’t see where his wings ended and began—only that they were folding and unfolding like obsidian knives. 

Then, there was his mouth that stretched wider than it should have, revealing rows of teeth too sharp, too numerous. They weren’t made for smiling, they were meant to tear and consume, a predator’s maw lurking beneath his visage. And his eyes—or the absence of them—were blackened husks whilst the unblinking eye on his forehead sat like an all-seeing sigil. 

Shadows pulsed into your vision, pooling at your feet and reaching for you like they knew your name. The sheer magnitude of Lucifer’s form left you breathless. If this was the strength of someone who served second to Diavolo, then what maddening power must the Prince of the Devildom truly possess? And beyond even that, the Demon King himself—origin of all darkness. The thought had chills coiling around your spine and you thanked the Heavens he was resting in his indefinite slumber. 

Yet strangely, in all that horror, there was beauty. Lucifer’s voice called to you like a melody and his vibrating presence, for all its terror, might have even felt soothing. It was magnificent. 

“Are you afraid?” he asked from everywhere and nowhere. A question that wasn’t meant to frighten but rather a lifeline, a chance to retreat before you fell any deeper. 

You should have been. Any rational being would have been. But instead, you took a step closer and reached out to the impossibility of his form. You touched something, though whether it was his face, his chest, or his soul, you weren’t sure.

“No,” you said between awe and surrender. “Never.” 

At that moment, you understood what it meant to love a creature who stood at the precipice of an existence that could shatter you with mere thought. 

“You are the first to see this and not run. You reach for the flame, knowing it will burn you,” he spoke like the deep roll of a bell. 

 “How could I not?” You didn’t step back, what was left of your willpower rooted you to the ground. “You’ve never been anything less than this. I could feel it.”

For a fleeting second, you saw the disintegration of his monstrous form, red eyes flickering through black ones as his pride briefly softened in the quiet between you. His wings faltered, a deep inhuman sigh escaping his lips. It was the first time you'd seen him so... uncertain.

“You think you know me so well? They say I am nothing but contradictions. Do you think love could redeem something like me? I could destroy you without meaning to,” this time he laughed but you knew this wasn’t anything he found funny. In fact, it hurt him to think there was any part of him that could cause you to recoil from the truth of what he was.

“But you haven’t because you don’t want to.” Again, his figure quickly distorted into something you were more familiar with. “Has it ever crossed your mind that I never wanted perfection, Lucifer?”

“Then what is it you want from me, if not to run?”

Your heart wound tight, it wasn’t difficult to tell him but you weren’t entirely sure if he’d even believe it. “Just you.”

He said nothing whilst your nostrils flared. “Just you,” you repeated.  

Lucifer's unblinking eye narrowed, its glow dimming just slightly as if your words had managed to reach that inscrutable part of him. “You walk the line between courageous and naive, my dear.” 

“Then I suppose it’s naive of me to hope you’re walking with me.” 

A faint pause. His wings shimmered behind him, his hesitation was palpable but not binding. “If you would dare to take such steps, then you will not tread alone.” 

It was resolute, his words settling like an oath.

Curiosity, they said, kills the cat. But in this case, it didn't. It brought you to a place you'd never thought you'd find. Lurking in the darkness of his true form, where love had no place for so long, you found the first glint of light.

A dark, dangerous light, but a light nonetheless.

© 2024 grimmweepers — do not repost, copy, translate, modify my work on any platform.

more a/n: i’m fascinated by eldritch/lovecraftian horror, can you tell?

divider: @/adornedwithlight

networks: @pixelcafe-network @houseofsolisoccasum

tagging you bc you kindly asked eep @sugurouge

[journey-to-the-attic]

Important Question: how does Satan befriend Spiderkid, and does the cat ears on IK's hood have anything to do with it?

okay i'm conflicted here because both of these scenarios are very cute, so i present:

option 1: ik's dad helped her make the whole spiderkid costume and he made the hood from an old cat onesie - satan had previously seen the cat ears from a distance when they were saving people from the same disaster and wanted to befriend spiderkid for ages because of them

option 2: ik's initial spiderkid costume was very rudimentary, the devildom rangers helped her make something more suitable (and iconic-looking), and the cat ears were satan's idea

on the subject of the heroes/devildom rangers though, in relation to their secret identities: i figure it makes more sense if the hero brothers know each other's identities, and the villain brothers know each other's identities, but the hero brothers don't know the villain brothers and vice versa!

thus this creates scenarios where belphie insists on re-diverting an evil plan-hijacking because he doesn't want to cause a commotion near beel's gym, except beel is the villain whose plan he's hijacking - or where mammon commands his underlings to avoid clogging traffic near lucifer's workplace, unaware that lucifer is the helmeted hero currently trying to kick his ass

[eikichi-supremacy]

okay maybe an unpopular opinion but i think shiori shouldn't actually like hiei that much

[cheriboms]

NO FREAKING WAY VIKTOR IS CONFIRMED ACE I CALLED THAT SHT IN 2021 !!!!!!!!!!!! WE STAY WINNING :D

[dimiclaudeblaigan]

I know you all know by default how much I love this conversation, but in RD at least, a lot of characters fall out of relevancy after a certain point (whereas in PoR you could argue that having full supports prevents this). Shinon is one of the only side characters who doesn't really do this, having three base conversations throughout part three (which is pretty fucking good considering several of the chapters aren't even with the Greil Mercenaries).

Back in PoR, Shinon asks for praise/gratitude. Expects it. By this point he doesn't want it anymore. He didn't want it when he was selling bows for emergency income (which Rolf took up as well) and he doesn't want it here either. His personality has chilled out so much from being a hothead and he's much more expressive of his actual feelings (even if you compare his standard death quotes in both games, he's much more emotionally expressive in RD).

A lot of characters - most honestly, including even the GMs (barring Boyd if he A supports Mist which gives him more content and expresses a whole lot of maturity compared to PoR Boyd) tend to drop off in development. They might stick around (ex. PoR puts all the major groups in the spotlight until the next group shows up and goes through all of them), but the development eventually stagnates outside of supports (including in base conversations, which this one is such).

Since RD doesn't get supports with full conversations, you only get snippets of development/characterization through them, while the base conversations may offer insight into the characters and show you how they've changed over the years but don't truly develop them. Shinon is a very lucky situation for his character because he keeps returning in both games, and it helps develop him across both games with a full timeline (similar to Naesala, who has a fully fleshed out story and personality development over both games and never stops dead at any point in the pair of games).

In PoR Shinon was distant and selectively a bit cold (Greil, Rolf and Gatrie excluded from that, and Mist to an extent as well). RD gives the impression that he just... doesn't care about all that anymore. He's fine where he is and has learned he can live with these people and not have to expect betrayal. He doesn't have to anticipate being on his own ever again. There's no real reason for him to keep up the walls and barriers to protect himself, and he's not living just to survive anymore.

Most times when I end up loving a character it's because of the content given to me and what have I to work with, rather than loving a character and searching for things to love. I fully expect that that's why I finally, after years of being unable to decide who my Tellius favorite was because I loved several of them too dearly to decide, found myself able to settle on Shinon.

When I got older and gave it more thought, considering all the development and traits of each of them and how responsive I was to them, one day I asked myself, well okay, what if someone asked you who your favorite was? What if you still did love the same ones as your number one, all of them, but could only give one name quick and simple? Who would you pick? The first name that instantly hit me was Shinon. That was enough for me to decide okay, there's a reason he's the first person who instantly came to me if I had to truly settle on one. I hadn't quite figured it out yet, but I knew there was a reason that if I had to pick a single standout, it would be him.

A lot of it harkens back to this conversation. It is development in and of itself, and also very expressive of who he is. The fact that he also doesn't fall off in conversations and is more recurring than not also gives me more to examine about him and more to think about. It puts him in a more likely position to think about him and who he is than I would for characters the writers didn't really bother developing (including other recurring characters like Marcia, who keep coming back in both games similar to Shinon, but see no development as a person - unfortunately in her case, in either game).

He has a very rich, detailed and unforgotten-by-the-writers character and one whose story ends on a very high note. I say "ends" in the sense of main story/base content, but it technically continues if he's taken to the Tower and gains the ability to A support various other characters who he otherwise could not support or could only reach a B support with, such as Sanaki, Tibarn, etc. This conversation is like an accumulation of his growth between both games, including the subtle things you can only pick up on through actions/other character lines.

Ike says he (everyone, which includes Shinon) chose to stay with them when he told everyone who their next employer was/what they'd be doing/etc, and Ike gave him and Soren an out if they weren't comfortable with it. They weren't all forced to go. That says by itself that Shinon made that choice on his own. He chose to stay with them when he was not yet totally comfortable with laguz and was still working on that part of himself (the fact that he uses the term "laguz" at all is already a huge step up from where he leaves off on his A support with Janaff, which did not leave off poorly at all).

Last time Shinon was uncomfortable with something in the Greil Mercenaries, he made the choice to leave. When he did come back, he was not exclusively surrounded by only the GMs and otherwise, purely laguz (which prior to meeting Janaff I would argue he was not ready for at all at the time). Here, he was, and he still made the choice to stay with them knowing exactly what his situation would look like.

Another thing worth considering is how much of a hothead Shinon was in PoR, but he still took Rolf on as a student. While I'm not sure exactly how accurate Mist's statement is about "forcing" Rhys to teach her (it's possible she was pushy about it because he didn't want to, such as because it might mean she might end up on the battlefield), we do know Rolf wanted to learn and was accepted.

We can easily infer through their conversations that Shinon would rather teach him to survive and have a safety net rather than worry about him being on a battlefield. Shinon saw that he was motivated to learn and, regardless of the fact that he was still in survival mode himself and not of the mind of "I'll be with these people forever and want to help them", taught him while apparently having told him "things like this happen" with mercenaries (i.e. different employers, separation, etc). If they ended up on opposite sides but Rolf could wield a weapon, that could endanger him, but he does it anyway. His priority is always survival, but it's also the survival of children and anyone he cares about. He also dies begrudgingly in his PoR death quote, which is completely opposite of his death quote against Rolf.

Another thing for me: he's also very confident and aware of his capabilities as a marksman. He knows what he's worth and at this point, he no longer brags about it (he used to all the time in PoR). He sees no reason to have to prop himself up. There's no insecurity in him that makes him feel the need to try to be open about being better than anyone else. He knows and accepts what he's worth without feeling the need to tell people about it.

If someone asked him what he thought of himself/his own worth, yeah, he'd admit his skill and capability without being too humble, but he also wouldn't go overboard with it or say it during instances that don't really warrant it (basically, if absolutely nobody asked, he'd say it anyway in PoR. In RD he doesn't really seem to give a shit anymore about letting the whole world know how good he is). He's lost the whole pick me, look at me sort of attitude. Imo it's also due to a higher amount of respect he has for himself now, and a much healthier one. He doesn't care about being the best anymore (he'd be perfectly happy if Rolf was instead) and is just satisfied knowing his skill on his own. He's satisfied not being alive just to survive, but to be with this mercenary group and actually able to live.

As a side note, we never actually see him having drunk or in the middle of drinking in RD, so... it's also likely he's worked on his possible PoR drinking issue too!

All in all, he's just one of the few non-main characters who came a whole long way with a full story. He feels very different in RD, but not so much that he feels like a different character entirely. For me, I can feel the growth in who he is, and that to me is an excellent handling of a character. When I can feel how different they are from beginning to end, I can feel the intent of character growth behind it. I can't tell you with certainty that the writers took a liking to him and so biasly kept sticking in dialogue for him (and singlehandedly made him one of the solidly best units in RD, for that matter...), but he's definitely repeatedly present and has hefty, story/backstory littered implications.

His dialogue feels meaningful to his own personal story in all his conversations. In other words, he doesn't have a conversation that feels devoid of meaning. It comes across more as all of his content exists for a reason/has meaning behind it. There's no wasted dialogue with him. When he's there, it means something for his character (comparatively to other side characters who may have lengthy conversations but you walk away having gotten nothing out of it, be that in PoR and/or RD).

He has fewer supports than most of the cast in PoR, but every single one had some kind of direction to it. Even if you look at his C support with Janaff and go "well that's just classic early PoR Shinon", the point of that is exactly that: that he starts out who we recognize and develops from there. That support alone goes from that to a lot of growth in three conversations, and beneficially so on both sides.

Simply put, he has more content the average Tellius character (including all of his boss quotes in chapter 18), and everything leads up to who he is by this conversation. It's a full story for a side character, later including personalized support dialogue for A supports, and he just happens to exhibit a lot of growth and traits that I already lean toward (hence why he was in my top spot all along, just tied with others. Now he's not tied with others and has the top spot to himself!).

I think it's likely it's the fact that as mentioned, none of his conversations are throwaway conversations. You never walk away from his conversations having gotten nothing (I mean, I'm sure people who refuse to see it don't notice precisely because they are willing themselves to refuse to see it to find excuses to keep hating him). Even in his first RD base conversation, the fact that he acts as you'd expect but drops a "laguz" in there is already a hint for his growth direction on top of being there at all. It's really just up from there, as is the case with all his content.

I tend to lean toward characters with a whole fountain of insightful conversations and depth, and in FE games you often don't find those characters outside of the mains. While I'd argue Tellius is a lot less tropey than modern FE (there were some tropey types like Makalov and Ilyana whose characters are basically nothing without their tropes), a lot of its side characters are still reduced to very surface level characterization with no real growth.

Shinon was very lucky to get as much as he did, and I'd say he has just as much if not more personal depth and lore than even some of the mains themselves. Imo he's a very lucky and rare find in FE games, when there are so many goddamn characters that the writers can't flesh them all out (reasonably of course, but it makes it even more special when it happens for non mains). Even with the Fodlan games and all its content, a lot if not most of its characters are full on tropes with little to nothing in the way of anything else. Engage suffers from it too, with a few diamonds in the rough and not much else.

That's not to say I hate the games or their characters, because obviously I would not still be playing new titles to the franchise if I hated it. I'm saying it makes the ones with as much depth as Shinon a gold mine to be found amidst a very large cast of characters that don't usually get that treatment.

anyway i will always talk abt shinon more when able so this is Not The End but i will end this post here lest it turns into another 20+ paragraphs.

[laugtherhyena]

Playing Bomb rush cyberfunk has been a crazy experience so far because i feel like I've been enjoying the game just as much as I'm not doing so

[jonathanrook]

okay but the problem is. and the reason i don't actually id as ace. is that i have. ya'know. been sexually attracted to people before. two. to be specific.

[byuntrash101]

still your biggest fan. – 송민기.

SYNOPSIS. your boyfriend is on the other side of the globe touring. somehow you fear the cheers of the fans will make him forget about you. so you decide to remind him you are still and will always be his biggest fan

or in which you find a novel way to use your lightstick and send the video to your beloved bf.

mingi x f!reader, smut, mdni

tags. etablished relationship, facetime sex, masturbation (f & m), BLACK UNDERCUT MINGI (!!!!!!!!), jealous + slightly possessive reader, but mingi reassures her (awwww), use of (unconventional) toys (wink wonk im insane pls stop me), pet names, multiple orgasms (f), praises, squirting. wc. 2k

a/n. this mingi has me feral and the concert videos got me in a chokehold. and it's only the first date i need help. also shout out to that one video of yungi saying they use the lightstick to "relax" at night. not proofread.

There was one thing that was absolutely certain about Mingi: that man loved attention. That man lived for the roars of the crowd. When he danced, he was electrified by the cheers of the fans. And you knew your boyfriend was made to be on stage. He enjoyed the attention of fans, hence the fact he was constantly body rolling, hip thrusting and tongue poking. He loved to see the thousands of people thirst for him, he loved looking at all the concert videos all over the internet. He laughed and giggled at the tiktok edits, at the twitter threads, at every comment more over the top than the next.

Usually you don’t mind, you even enjoy them too. You like seeing him happy and fulfilled in his job but today maybe you’re a little insecure. He just flew out to start the American leg of the tour and you’re left behind in this bed that seems so empty. You fear somehow the loud cheers will make him forget about you. You don’t want that. You want to remind him. You want to make sure that today when he goes to sleep the last thing he sees is you. 

You looked at the time, your eyes darted to the digital clock on your night stand. At this time he was probably already at the hotel. It was pretty late for you but you wanted to send him a little treat, you knew how Mingi loved when you sent him videos of you playing with yourself and today you might add a little twist. 

You didn’t have much time if you wanted him to see the video before he slept…

***

Mingi was spent, true. But he was still pumped full of adrenaline when he stepped out of the shower with the ends of his raven black hair wet, the longer strands of his undercut dripping down. He didn’t even bother stepping into his pajamas, the AC was off and this part of the world in July was pretty hot. 

He tucked himself in bed, still wide awake. He looked at his phone, a text from you from several hours ago when you went to bed. You were probably sleeping right now. He debated responding, fearing he would wake you. But he pictures you pouting when you’d wake up in a few hours without a response from him and he couldn’t bear to make you feel that way so he typed a quick answer. 

🎀 princess #2: hope the show goes well (ik it will because you gonna kill it cause you the best😌). i lob you. you know that right? dont forget about me ok? <33333333

👸princess minki (real): i could never baby i love you more. hope you have a great day and i miss you baby <3

then for a second the three little dots appeared and Mingi thought he hallucinated it. But then an other text appeared.

🎀 princess #2: i’ll always be your first and your biggest fan

Mingi didn't even have time to reply that he received a video file. He faintly gasped at the thumbnail. It was your legs spread out on his bed. The big play button in the middle of the frame though blocked out the most interesting part and he didn’t even breathe before he played the video.

He continued to hold his breath when he saw you rub your clit throught your white panties. He didn’t know how long you did played with yourself but your panties were completely see through. Your juices were sticking to your folds, the laces barely concealing you anymore. But still, he needed these damn panties out of the way. 

He wanted to see you. His hand found his cock on instinct, immediately palming his hardening bulge. And his prayers were answered. You pushed the panties to the side uncovering the most beautiful sight Mingi had ever layed eyes on. He exhaled a long sigh when long strings of slick connected you to the thin fabric of the underwear. How bad he wanted to be there, to stuff your soaked panties into your mouth while he thrusted his thick fingers into you. How bad he wanted to feel you twitch around him. How bad he wanted to hear his name fall from your quivering lips as he brought you to your peak. He wanted you so bad.

But then you grabbed hold of something, something that emitted light… The lightiny? Mingi’s jaw hung open when he saw you bring the handle to your center, rubbing it through your folds, coating it with your juices before bringing it up to your hard clit playing with a little, prying beautiful muffled sounds out of your mouth. Just to bring the handle down again, you took a firm grip of the rounded part and pushed the handle inside your trembling core. 

“Fuck” Mingi exhaled as he started pumping his balled fist around his now fully hard cock, he kicked the covers off him just to be able to jerk himself off without resistance. 

“Nghhh” you moaned quietly as you bottomed out. “M-Mingi are you watching?” As if you could see him, Mingi nodded vigorously, qmd you gave more purpose to the coming and going of his wrist. “Keep watching me. K-keep- fuck aaaah. Keep looking at me. I’ll make myself cum for you, ok?”

“Fuck yes baby I wanna see it all.” Mingi replied in a strangled breath, his hand going to play with balls, while his other hand held the phone incredibly close to his face. if he could have he would have gone through the screen and right into you. 

You started to slowly bounce on the lightstick. You were obviously already really worked up, your pussy was clenching down on the shiny copper handle and the light was perfectly shining on your hard clit, making it obvious that you were pretty close. Red and swollen, ready to explode. Just how he liked.

So you did. In a few seconds your thighs were trembling and your movement became uneven. You started to squirt small translucent spurts, one then two.

“Fuck baby you’re so fucking hot” Mingi breathed and pumped himself faster. 

You took the copper handle out and rubbed your clit in tight and fast circles, squirting more translucent liquid and soaking the sheets. Your center quivering around nothing. You slowed down with a sigh and the video stopped.

Mingi felt like he was going to sink into eternal darkness and despair if he didn’t see more of you right now. His cock was twitching in his strong fist, his cockhead was leaking so much precum he wanted you to see him too. He wanted you to know what you did to him.

So he pressed FaceTime. It rang once, twice then you picked up. You looked disheveled and short of breath. Fuck how fucking beautiful you were. Mingi wanted to kiss you all over this pretty face of yours.

“Why do you torture me?” he said a little more whiny than anticipated. 

He was so cute with wet hair and his eyebrows meeting on his forehead. He flipped the camera to show you his swollen cock, hard, red and leaking. You bit you lip at the mouth watering sight.

“I just wanted you to remember me. That's all.” you started, your hand finding your folds once again. “Remind you I will always be your biggest fan”

“Fuck how could I forget about you? Are you insane?” he breathed out, his voice sounded strained, in pain almost. You could only imagine how worked up he was and this urgency in his tone compelled you to find a new angle to the video call. You balanced it on the covers and your wet pussy and the mess you made came into view again.

“Fuckkkk” Mingi sighed again, trying his hardest not to be too loud. San was next door and the last thing he wanted was for him to bring up his little intimate session with you tomorrow at breakfast. “You’ve made such a mess. I usually hate it but God I’d give everything to sleep in the wet spot tonight”. You saw him jerk himself off faster, his thumb spreading the precum all over his tip and dragging it down his shaft. Squeezing the head the bring out even more and repeat it again. 

“Please show me again” he didn’t intend to sound so desperate but it couldn’t be helped because he in fact was that desperate for you. “Please show me how you fuck yourself with the lightiny”

“O-okay” You brought it back and stuffed it inside your clenching little pussy with a sigh, your other hand spreading your lips apart, making sure Mingi had the first raw VIP view of the show. 

“Fuckkkk” he whined again. “You’re so fucking nasty for me, doll”

You chuckled, knowing your little scheme had worked. You knew right now he was only thinking of you. Completely pussy drunk even though he was thousands of miles away.

“I wish it was you inside me right now, Mingming”

“Fuck me too baby” he said strangling his cock tighter, more precum oozing out again. He was close judging by the way he kept on twitching in his own hand. The sight urged you to bounce harder on the handle of the lightstick, your pussy clenching around it, gliding so smoothly in and out of you while your other hand kept on abusing your sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Baby I-I’m close” he said, a certain rasp about his voice that was only giving more weight to his words. His fist was frantically moving along his cock, now mainly focussing on his tip, making the poor thing absolutely miserable: all wet and beet red, close to bursting.

“M-me too” you said,  feeling the familiar knot in the pits of your stomach approaching its rupture point. The premise of your orgasm manifested itself in the form of an other small sprut of transparent liquid “Nggghh fuck-” you gasped. “I’m c-cumming again” you whined, rubbing your clit faster, in thighter circles. You ripped the handle out of you and one big squirt came out of your abused little pussy, joining the existing mess in Mingi’s sheets. 

“Oh fuck baby” Mingi couldn’t peel his eyes of the screen. “Fuck baby me- Fuck… Me too” He watched as your thighs became weak and as your pretty little pusy gushed out more and more fluids. You were the hottest thing he’s ever seen. And he couldn’t possibly take it anymore. He let himself go. He abruptly stop stroking himself just to let the first big rope of cum sprout out of his slit and crash over his stomach. You moaned louder at the sight. He kept on stroking again, milking more delicious cum out of his twitching red cock, completely repainting his stomach with thick and white cum, grunting as his hips involuntarily thrusted upwards until it all stopped.

When he had caught his breath he approached the phone to show his stomach and scooped some of his spillage between his fingers. 

“Look what you did to me? Just cause you got a little jealous of the fans?” he chuckled.

“I did that?” you said appalled, “No you did that! Stop making me jealous and it won't happen again” He flipped the camera again and you couldn't help but to smile mindlessly at the screen. He was a complete wreck, sharp eyes half lidded, bottom lip swollen and red from being bitten and strands of black hair sticking to his forehead. This haircut made him ridiculously hot. A mischievous smirk pulled at his full lips.

“Or…” he trailed off. “I don't this stop and you make me dirty sexy videos after every show”

“Yeah” you said, sarcasm tinting your voice. “Let's see you do that! We’ll see how it goes when you came back” you challenged him. Your smile sent shivers down Mingi’s spine. He loved you but you definitely could be scary sometimes.

“You know what, I changed my mind. I'll just behave and you can reward me when I get home.”

want more? try my fic facetime ♡

SYNOPSIS. mingi has a small favor to ask you real quick.

want to be udpated when i post? join the taglist here

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[luvs4matt]

KINKTOBER !! DAY TEN , anal plugs

toxic&mean!chris x sensitive&crybaby!reader

“yeah- yeahhh, take that shit” chris growls as the plug slipped into your ass, you whined at the stretch. “look at how tight that little fuckin’ hole is” he chuckled “wish i was replacin’ that damn plug—fuckin’ you right in your ass” you moaned at the thought, pushing your hips back.

“needy whore, hm?” he knew how much being called a whore hurt your feelings, but that’s why he did it, he wanted you to feel bad—he wanted you to feel like a fuck toy and nothing else. “s.. stop!” your eyes shed tears.

he slaps your ass harshly “stop what? treatin’ you like a slut?” he spits, you mumble into the pillow “b-bein’ mean..” suddenly, you felt a couple of his fingers entering your pussy, curling and un-curling his fingers repeatedly. “yeah? m’ bein’ mean? cause to me, i seem to be pretty fuckin’ nice t’ya little damn body.” the plug only added onto the feeling

you cried out, the intense pleasure already building up inside of you. “fuuck- always cum so quickly” he starts laughing at you—humiliating you “all it takes is to call you a cum eating slut and you are falling apart for me” you moaned as you fell over the edge, not even realizing that you didn’t ask for permission.

he pulled his fingers out, leaving only the plug left in your ass. you lied there, catching your breath until chris flips you over in one swift motion, making you lie on your back. just then when you look into his eyes, seeing his clenched jaw, had you realized what you’d done. “c.. chrissy.. i-“ he shoves the same fingers that were inside of you, into your mouth “shut the fuck up.. just shut the fuck up”

© LUVS4MATT

a/n - ik this is short but i wanted to get it out in time and it is only 45 minutes till midnight, sorry these have been coming out so late 😭😭 no taglist for this post!

[777heavengirl]

spill your guts

sirius black x reader one-shot ! warnings: miscommunication? (apparently, that’s all ik how to write), friends to lovers, mentions of injury, no war AU! word count: 6,730 masterlist a/n: sorry I've been MIA uni is BEATING my ass and i rewrote this like 35 times, enjoy!

“I have this dream that I am hitting my dad with my quidditch bat” Sirius's clammy skin and the breeze that flew in from the window you had slightly cracked open when he awoke hyperventilating, caused goosebumps to crawl up his skin. You stayed quiet at his confession, your eyes trained on his face but his burned holes into your baby blue duvet. “And all he does is scream and cry for help-“

He took a sharp breath, this was one of those rare times when everything rotting inside him tried spilling out. For many years it was just James and Remus, Peter occasionally, but now he found that he couldn’t help but want to spill his guts to you. You stayed quiet as he spoke, scared to say anything that would cause him to shut himself in again.

”And maybe halfway through, I realized that it has more to do with me killing him than it ever did protecting myself.” Sirius never spoke of his father. His mother usually plagued his nightmares and it was the abuse he was more inclined to share.

Not his father's.

”He was really pushing his luck-“ His dry laugh, seemed cruel, but you could see how his fingers fidgeted, playing with a small thread on the edge of his boxers. The need to light a cigarette flashed in his mind. 

You knew the man was dead. You were with Sirius and the rest of the marauders the day he was buried. After everyone else had left the funeral, the brothers stared at the coffin on the altar of the mausoleum the rest of their family rested in. Regulus didn’t speak a word but gripped Sirius’s arm with white-hot knuckles. Sirius put his cigarette out on the shiny, polished wood, one last act of defiance. His brother nodded, almost as if in approval, but not quite, and apparated away with their family house elf soon after. Sirius linked his arm with yours. You didn’t ask how he died, nor did you ask about the brothers' relationship now that both of their abusers were dead and buried. Now that everything between them rotted away.

You never wanted to push the boundary more than he’d let you. Your relationship, if that’s what you could call it, was already precarious as it was.

Tonight had started like many others, Sirius knocking at your door. The flat you shared with Dorcas in front of the one he shared with Peter and Remus. And you answered, you always did.

“you look good tonight-“ You thought the way too small sleeping shorts were the reason he said so, it wasn’t the mismatched socks or the oversized muggle band tee you had stolen from their dorm fifth year. Definitely not the messy, bed-ridden hair. He had only seen your face, the glint in your eyes, and the pull of your smile. That had been enough for him to decide you were the most beautiful creature on the planet. “can I sleep in your bed?” You said yes.

You always said yes.

You didn’t have sex. But you slept together, his fingertips digging into the supple skin of your waist as he slept with his face buried in your neck. You often played with his hair, tracing spirals on his back until he snored softly. You wouldn’t have guessed that tonight would end up with him waking up, in a cold sweat and gasping for breaths, much less confessing his dreams of murdering his already deceased father.

You didn't hold that against him.

You took a hesitant hold of his trembling fingers, he seemed to welcome the touch as he intertwined his fingers with yours.

He pulled you close to him again after he laid back down. The window remained open with the nippy night breeze flowing in, but his skin eventually lost its goosebumps and his grip ultimately loosened, he was soft and warm and moldable now. He melted onto your side and you couldn't help but stare. At his perfect nose and perfect lips, the weight of the world that he held on his shoulders faded away when he slept, even if just for a few hours. 

You reveled in the fact that it was your bed he felt this comfortable in.

You hoped it was only yours.

-

Even the mornings where he had crawled out of your bed and your flat, the ones where you awoke alone and cold, he stayed in your head. He had imprinted himself on your mind, he had made it his home. Sirius Black, the man you were not dating, but the man you shared your bed with, occasionally made breakfast with in between fits of laughter. The man who had declared very loudly, and very drunkenly, that you'd make the perfect girlfriend at a party four months ago, and yet continued to ignore any hint that there might be something else between the two of you. Your bed felt cold the rare nights he didn't knock at your door, at this point your entire apartment called for his presence. Dorcas joked that he was your third roommate.

You always wondered if he had found some muggle girl to woo for the night, sleep in her foreign bed, and disappear in the morning. You wondered if he ever stayed 'til the morning in their beds, if he enjoyed them more than he enjoyed you. If your bed and your embrace weren't enough.

Until there was a knock at your door, the clock marked 1:27 am.

"A long time ago, my great-great-great-great-grandfather took something that did not belong to him," You wondered if this would also become ritual, him baring his heart naked. Baring his family's sins, his sins, to you. As if your divine acceptance would tip the scales, and that it would weigh his heart as pure. Your skin was the one riddled with goosebumps this time, as the cold that seeped through the window nipped at the thin material of your shirt and you duvet stayed discarded at the foot of the bed. You didn't mind it. He blew the smoke of his cig out the open window and turned to look at you again, unapologetically staring into your eyes. "And that is why I kind of look the way I do, 'm part Veela," you wondered if his confessions were a new level of intimacy you had gained access to. 

"As if I couldn't tell," he gave you a crooked smirk, the type he gives you when he's about to make some obscene, dirty joke. He didn't this time though. You visibly saw his shoulders relax when you made a quick quip, ignoring the heavy atrocity of his ancestors. It wasn't him after all, why would you hold it against him? He hummed, reveling secretly in your compliment. Maybe you genuinely did think he was beautiful. Regardless of the tattoos that now littered his body, or the scars of abuse that would never leave him, or even the random bruises that sometimes stained his porcelain skin, from his bike, from Moony's transformations, from everything. Maybe you even saw past the commitment issues, and unspoken words, or the fact that he left you to wake up to an empty bed often.

Maybe, somehow, you were able to look past all of that. All of him.

Sirius knew it was wishful thinking.

-

“Don’t look at me like that Moony,” Sirius said with a groan as he stood at the door, still holding the handle from closing it. Remus glared at him from the top of his cup as he sipped his tea, Sirius really wanted to skip the whole lecture, you woke up early meaning he also had to, and had to make the treacherous journey across the hall. He glanced at the clock on the wall, it glanced 6:30 am back at him. Why was Remus even awake?

“you’re a prat Padfoot-“

”I needed some sleep, it's not like we're-“

“It doesn’t matter, what you’re doing to that poor girl is horrible, if you really can’t sleep drink some tea, go to a physician” Remus turned his back to Sirius, angrily cleaning his cup in the sink, although he couldn’t see him, Sirius knew Remus’s face was twisted into one of disappointment and anger. “you know she loves you, and you use it instead of telling her there will never be anything between you-“

”I love her”

”You’re not in love with her, are you?” He turned the water off, turning around with a glare as Sirius stayed quiet. “She is.”

Sirius didn’t know what he felt for you if he was honest. He loved you, though. He had always loved you. From the days you ran around with the four of them around Hogwarts, when you passed notes in class, when you accompanied him on secret trips to the kitchens, when you helped clean his wounds at Potter Manor the summer he ran away. Sirius has always loved you.

Remus might think that’s worse.

”Stop sleeping with her and having breakfast with her the morning after, Merlin-“ he took a deep breath, his fingers coming up to rub his temples in frustration and the Welsh accent seeped into his words, “What the hell are you thinking Sirius?”

Remus knew he was being tough, but he felt bad. He felt bad about the way your eyes always trailed after the boy, and how you always stared at Sirius’s closed bedroom door when you were over for tea. You needed to be able to move on with your life. It didn’t help you and Dorcas lived right in front of them.

”Alright Moony,” 

“You’ll leave her alone?” Sirius refused to meet the taller boy's eyes.

”I’ll try”

- 

Sirius did not listen to Remus. 

He never did really, but he felt guilty now. He stared at you from your bed, you paced around stripping away the day, being a healer at St Mungo's was an arduous job most days. Some it was just kids with dragon pox and their mothers who came with worry stitched in their souls, doing rounds with residents that had been there longer than you, the older ladies always gave you candy. You didn't know where they were getting it from. Most nights you dragged yourself into your apartment late enough you might as well say it’s morning, and dropped, ruined and exhausted, on your bed. The worst days, it was back-to-back shifts of trying to heal curses, creature attacks, and mysterious maladies that left you drained and hopeless. Ones that made you fear the magical world that surrounded you. These nights you would've sought Sirius out, the way he did you, but you didn't need to. He was always there, somehow knowing and waiting outside your door. Sometimes, he was just exiting his apartment, going to knock on yours when you came up the stairs, other nights, like this one, he waited for you. He sat on the floor with his back against your door and his eyes closed until he heard your footsteps. He stood and greeted you silently with a kiss to your temple.

He trailed after you, into your room and onto your bed. So he sat, his back against the wall and the bottom parts of his legs hanging from the bed. He didn't say much, he observed as you sighed and sniffed, wiping your eyes as you muttered to yourself. He watched in awe as you took off the green healer robes they made you wear, your buttoned shirt coming off with it. 

“I don’t understand how hard it is to keep your kid away from places like those, the kid was barely five and now he has all these welts-“ you huffed in frustration as you stripped off your pants and walked into the bathroom, the door open so you could continue to ramble “how does a five-year-old get cursed? I had to call the Ministry-“

Sirius didn’t think he could deny the fact that he reveled in these moments, he couldn't hide it for the life of him. The ones where you were so comfortable with him, walking around in your mismatched underwear angrily rambling about negligent mothers and how now you have to testify at the Ministry next week. It was laced with domesticity and a cloying sweetness that covered his skin. He wanted to stop you and kiss you silly. To sleep with you, in all your naked glory, and not care because you’d be together. He shook away the need to keep you for himself. He shuffled close to the edge of the bed, his feet finally touching the floor and he picked up a trinket on your nightstand. He bought it for you when he visited France last summer. He promised Regulus he'd gone to see him a few days. It went well, he realized. He also thought of the fact he didn't tell you that's what he went to do.

”Sirius?"

"Hm?" he finally focused back on your words, his eyes flickering back to you and the small smile that formed on your lips when you saw what he had in his hand. 

"I said, what'd you reckon will happen to the kid?" your smile faded, and you picked nervously at your cuticles as you thought about him. Would they take him away? Would he be put in an orphanage? It was protocol you had no other choice but to call... and yet you couldn't stop thinking about it. You started moving around your room again, like a bee collecting pollen from flowers. Bees were cute, right? Sirius hoped you wouldn't think he was silly, Bees were cute, he decided. You grabbed a couple of items of clothing, collecting them in one arm as the other one massaged your scalp. 

"I dunno," he remembered to answer now, "I had never thought about it,"

He could hear you turn on the shower, but you padded back into the room as the water warmed. You looked at him, still in your underwear, the eye bags underneath your eyes were visible, your makeup long faded by now. 

"You never went because of your mum?" He shook his head, and you shuffled closer, the side of your leg pressed against the bed and your knee knocking with his as you looked down at him. Your hand went to caress his hair instinctively, his soft glossy curls sliding through your fingers easily. "I'm sorry no one noticed Sirius," this part was a whisper now, you feared overstepping a boundary you weren't aware of. He smiled at you, his hand coming up to pinch your naked side. 

You yelped and batted his hand away with a laugh. 

"She's good and dead now, I reckon it doesn't matter anymore-" He gave you a saddened smile, his nimble fingers grabbing a hold of your hand pulling you closer to him again. It was private moments like this, that confused you. The intimacy of it all, the way his lips pressed against the back of your hand and looked at you through half-lidded eyes. You were suddenly hyper-aware of how naked you actually were. You had been friends for the majority of your life, shame was long gone, but when you were so close you could feel his breath across the stretch of your tummy, it felt different.

"I reckon it does matter," You pressed a small kiss to his forehead and unpeeled yourself from him, "don't bury it all inside you, Mr Black"

You floated away now, in the sea of your anxiety over your actions, closing the bathroom door behind you. 

Sirius had a lot of destructive behaviors, he knew that. The smoking since he was fifteen, the reckless way he rode his motorcycle around, the growing collection of tattoos on his body, the tumultuous relationship he had with his brother, Merlin definitely the excessiveness in which he drank, not to mention the way he showed up at the Potter's every once in a while seeking James's comfort and unconditional love, ignoring the fact that the man was a father and had a million things on his shoulders. Lily didn’t seem to mind. At least he was a decent godfather, took care of Harry to perfection, it took a few tries but he got it. Loved him with his entire heart. But you, Sirius, thought you might be the worst of it.

The worst thing he’s ever done to himself is allow for this domesticity between you.

You came back from your shower with your hair slightly damp and smelling of your signature body wash scent, sweet and enveloping. The oversized shirt that covered your torso was almost long enough to cover 'til your upper thighs. It made Sirius’s lips curl into a lopsided smile that he tried to repress.

He was lying down now, starfishing on your bed as he stared at the ceiling.

”Are you coming to bed?” The clock blinked 3 AM at you, and Sirius reached his hand out. You walked closer to him, a small smile playing on your lips. You sent the towel you had been using back to its spot with a swish of your hand. Basic handless magic was a difficult skill to gain but Merlin so gratifying. 

“I forgot my pants silly,” he shook his head no, and reached for your hand with a bit more effort, grabbing a hold of it and pulling you down with him.

”Let’s just sleep, you don’t need those-“ He covered the two of you with your heavy duvet as you laughed, he leaned over you to turn off the lamp on your nightstand.

Yes, Sirius thought as he buried his face in the crook of your neck and threw one of his arms over your torso. You were the worst thing he had ever done to himself. He would never be able to let go, your hands stroking his hair until one of you fell asleep, the small ‘night that slipped past your lips just as your eyes fluttered shut. He'd never get enough of your saccharine scent that enveloped him like a blanket, comforting and warm. All-encompassing and suffocating, in each other’s arms every night, in the comfort of your room. 

Sirius knew it deep in his heart, what he had been afraid of for so long. Maybe Remus had it all wrong, maybe he was in love with you.

Because what else could this feeling be?

-

You tried to ignore the ache in your heart when you woke up to an empty bed. You tried to forget the fact that you’d probably do it all again tonight, and the next night too, all to bear the fruit of nothing. 

Dorcas shook her head and she pushed a cup of coffee towards you. 

“Don’t look at me like that Dorcas -“

”I love Sirius as much as the next guy but-“ you picked up the coffee and sighed at its warmth “He’s being a prat honey-“

”It's not like we’ve been having sex, he just needs some sleep” You shook your head and looked away, afraid that your eyes would betray you, “hell I needed sleep too”

”It doesn’t matter, Y/N you’re a healer get him a stock of sleeping draught and yourself some too while you’re at it…” She furrowed her brows but you stayed quiet, not daring to meet her gaze “I know you love him, but I’m not so sure he sees you that way-“

” I’m not in love with him”

“I didn’t say you were in love,” Dorcas sighed now, placing her cup on the sink and walking towards the small chimney in your flat. “Promise me it won’t happen anymore, that you’ll try to break it off”

”I’ll try Dorcas,” she didn’t believe you much, you didn’t believe yourself either, the Floo Flames engulfed her body.

It was hard to, separate yourself from him that is. Sirius Black was addicting, simply from the way he moved. Just watching him is entrancing on its own. Speaking to him, with his suave words and low tone. Everything about him, everyone craved to have a simple conversation, have even an ounce of his attention. Sleeping in his arms though, heart to heart? Now that was in a league of its own. 

-

You dragged yourself into your building, the day bearing down on you. You half hoped that Sirius would be waiting outside your door again, sitting waiting for you to lay in his arms. Disappointment added to the sack of bricks you felt like you were carrying when you turned to see the empty hallway. You sluggishly made your way up to your door, hoping to see Sirius's head pop out of his apartment door. Giggles came down your hall, as you fiddled with your keychain trying to find your key. The drunken whispers got louder and just as you grabbed a hold of your key you heard your name echo softly down the hall.

You dropped your keys in surprise as you took in the sight. Sirius stood rather close to a short woman, her bubbling laughter and her roaming hands didn't stop when he let his arm drop from her shoulders. All color drained from his face and his drunk, loose smile fell quickly from his lips. The girl that clung to him like gum to a shoe hadn’t noticed your presence nor how Sirius seemed to sober up at the sight of you.

You scrambled to pick up your keys as the blonde started whispering in his ear, starting to pull at him again. He called out your name one more time, moving towards you now, dragging the poor girl down the hallway with him.

“have a good night Sirius-“ 

You miraculously managed to get your key in the hole swiftly, turn it, open, and lock yourself inside just in time. Pressing your back against the door, your heart felt like it might leap out of your chest. You had always hoped that he wasn’t seeing other people, or meeting anyone else. And the absence of encounters just like this one had solidified that thought, you were properly convinced. Now though. You had just been lucky enough to not encounter them. You thought back, it was impossible not to feel like Sirius’s look had been one of guilt. Like he got caught. But the two of you weren’t anything.

You were painfully reminded of that fact tonight.

You hadn't noticed how fast or how hard your heart was beating. You felt like it was ready to break through your ribs, leaving you shattered and with a void in your chest. But it didn't do such a thing. No, you stayed perfectly intact, even as you felt the panic batter your chest and the notion that you were definitely not the only woman in his life torturing your heart.

"What's wrong?" Dorcas said in a whisper as she looked up, her large glasses sliding down her nose. The yellow lamps that decorated your apartment gave Dorcas's dark skin a low golden tone, like the type you'd see in paintings of candlelights and sultry lounges. Marlene was over today, her short, bleached blonde strands fanning over her face as she slept with her head on Dorcas's lap, her arms wrapped around the girl's waist.  If it had been any other time you would've run for the muggle Polaroid camera Lily bought you, flashing a picture of the two of them.

"Sirius was just outside with some girl," Dorcas gasped now and shot up, dropping Marlene's head on the couch. The blonde groaned awake and asked what was wrong.

"Sirius brought home a girl" The blonde shot up as well and the girlfriends ran to the door, trying to look through the peephole. "Well this whole thing has gone arse over tit hasn't it?" Marlene pushed Dorcas off for her turn at the peephole. 

"There's no 'thing' between us anyway"

"Well, shit" The blonde outside kept pawing at Sirius, trying to reach his face, to eat it Marlene guessed. He stared at the door, trying to hold the girl who stuck to him back. Marlene felt as if she was in a staring competition. She knew Sirius couldn’t see her but she still liked the thought that she’d win.

Dorcas was the first to peel herself off of the door and pull you into a tight embrace. Her hand rubbed circles on your back and Marlene followed, embracing the two of you. They smelled coconut-y and sweet, even the remainder of Marlene's stronger perfume wafted over you ever so slightly. It was grounding, really, to be hugged tightly by your closest friends, the smell of home, the comfort of knowing that you were loved, even if it wasn't by him.

"I'll hex him for you if you want" Marlene's suggestion, although serious, wasn't necessary. You shook your head sighing. 

"He didn't do anything-" Dorcas flicked your head now, a frown forming on her face as the three of you parted. 

"Like hell, he didn't-"

"He doesn't owe me anything 'Cas don't be harsh"

"He's been sleeping in your bed for the better part of six months I reckon he owes you a lot" Dorcas gave you a look of pity now, like you were a wounded abandoned animal.

"I say we set his motorbike on fire," Marlene suggested casually like she was talking about the weather. You slowly peeled your layers off, as you dragged your feet towards your room. You knew the girls felt bad for you, but it was your fault. Who in their right mind would let Sirius Black so into their hearts, knowing that no commitment would ever come from it? 

You. 

You would. 

From his muscles softened under your touch, his warmth spreading to your body, to the way he mumbled in his sleep. It was something your soul craved to see, to feel, to hear. He had bewitched you, without you wanting him to, without meaning to allow him. You threw yourself on your bed, starfished and in your underwear, freshly showered. The water did not wash away the regret nor the hurt. They only made you think of coming back to Sirius in your bed, smiling and pulling you into his arms. Your sheets were cold, and tucked in neatly, very unlike the cozy mess Sirius usually made of it. So you stared, long and hard at the white of your ceiling. You prayed sleep would take you, you were exhausted. Like your body had been beaten, like your heart had split in two. 

No such sleep would overtake you. Instead, you could hear frantic knocks on your front door, your muscles twitched but you didn't dare move, like if you breathed he'd know. You heard Dorcas rip the door open, the force of it reverberating through your small flat. 

"You got some balls coming here," It was muffled, but you could still hear the venom in her voice. She didn't let him speak. "You're going to die cold, sad, and alone Black— don't you ever forget it" She threw the door closed now, the bang shaking your room again. It was jarring to hear that, especially from someone as sweet as Dorcas was, and she meant it. Hell, you felt like she would make sure of it, no matter the cost. 

"Sweetheart-" Dorcas spoke through the door, her knuckles grazing the wood but not quite knocking. You didn't answer.

A muffled she must be asleep, and you felt like you could breathe again. You knew Sirius wouldn't end up alone. If he did romantically, the friendships in his life would fulfill that void anyway. He had a family. Most of your friends were his, and you knew, that you could never ask any of them to walk around the uncomfortable wall that seemed to form between you, or god forbid pick sides. It was stupid, you knew there was no reason you should be upset. You were not together. You weren't anything to him, and he wasn't supposed to be to you.

But oh he was. He was everything.

-

On nights like these, you thought you might reach your limit and have to be admitted into the psychiatric ward of St Mungo's yourself. You felt sweaty, and the stuffy healer robes didn't help to ease the heat that crawled up your skin. Your hair felt frizzy and out of place, and your buttoned-up shirt felt like it was choking you, but you couldn't stop. You couldn't afford to nor could the patients that kept coming in. The St Mungo's emergency room was nothing short of a battleground, it was vile and the worst turn to get. Especially during the overnight shift. These were the types of shifts that made you second guess your career choice, the ones that made you want to throw in the towel and drag yourself back into your apartment and never come out. 

"Y/N come on, they're bringing in a flying vehicle accident-" you frowned as you let your turn partner drag you towards one of the newly entered patients. For the first time that shift, you felt dread crawl up your throat, your heart skipping a beat as you saw Sirius lying unconscious on the bed. For a second you thought you had forgotten how to breathe, your fingertips felt numb and your ears rang. His perfect nose was bloody, his perfect lip bruised and split. There were scrapes on his cheeks, and his jeans had been ripped and stained red. It wasn't noticeable at first, but the metallic smell and the caked-on blood on his black jacket became visible as you approached, it all made it clear, it had been bad.

You couldn't understand what your partner was telling you, the ringing in your ears too loud for you to make out the words, but as they moved Sirius onto a proper bed, it all came crashing down again. Repeated prayers of no's rang through your head along with pleas to a higher power to let this be a nightmare, one you'd wake up from cold and sweaty but knowing he's safe. No such relief came, and your fingertips buzzed with electricity once again, moving so fast it was like you moved at two times speed. You couldn't think of anything but prayers, to what? You didn't know, but you did so nevertheless. To the stars, and the heavens, or the magic that ran through your blood, through his. You didn't know. But you muttered words of hope and love, as you cleaned his wounds, hoping he'd hear you.

You busied yourself and basically assigned yourself to his care, after they moved him out of the ER, into one of the beds in the rows of other patients divided by sheets. You barely left his side, just to shower and change into the spare clothes Dorcas had brought you reluctantly, mildly upset you were taking care of Sirius. You ate next to him, talked to him, read your favorite poems, and hummed his favorite songs. He mumbled here and there, and his eyes would flutter sometimes which you took as a good sign but the tension didn't leave your shoulders, and your prayers never ended.

James, Remus, and Peter passed by, dropping some baked goods off and comforting you with teary hugs. 

"I told him that bloody bike would kill him-" Remus said as he shook his head and sat next to Sirius for a bit, his hand on the boy's knee.

"How's he doing doc?" you rolled your eyes, amusement played in James's eyes at the pull of your lips. He had always secretly been a worrywart, but he played it off well as if his heart didn't almost beat out of his chest when he got the call.

"As long as he wakes up he'll be fine-" He smiled genuinely now, "Few broken bones," He hummed, looking at Remus and Peter huddled next to Sirius's bed.

"few broken bones hm? wouldn't be the first time." You talked for a while, each one of you ignoring the nagging feeling of worry. Sirius's boisterous laugh was poignantly missing from the conversation. But soon enough, James's father's duties called and he pressed a kiss on Sirius's forehead and one on yours very fatherlike and apparated away, Remus and Peter gathered themselves up as well not long after.

"Call if anything, okay doll?" Remus pulled you into a tight hug, his lips pressing against your temple as well. Peter gave you a small hug, his eyes trailing over Sirius's form sadly. 

You were left alone again, the window panes that surrounded the hall letting some moonlight in. Time felt like a thick jelly, your eyes staring at the clock as you ran your hands through his hair, the exhaustion was quickly catching up to you. But the thought of another coffee made your stomach churn and your eyelids felt heavy like lead. So you gripped his hand tightly and laid your head against his arm.

If he woke up, you'd be there.

-

Sirius felt like he might be in heaven, the second his eyes fluttered open you were there. Your face pressed between his forearm and the bed, your hand tightly clutching his. He could feel the ghost of your lips on his skin and goosebumps threatened to crawl up his spine, his thoughts straying to your pout. Your closed eyes and your steady breathing made it clear you were sleeping, Sirius couldn't help but smile. He very rarely got to watch you like this, by some miracle he always fell asleep first and woke up second. You were so lovely, with your soft skin and the angelic glow from the light of the moon glaring against the curve of your face. If it wasn't for the stinging in his face or the way his ribs felt like they were collapsing in on themselves, Sirius would've sworn up and down he had died and gone to heaven.

He squeezed your hand, and the weight of the realization that you had been taking care of him fell on him. Guilt clawed at his throat, he had broken your heart and you still took care of him. He'll never forget the look on your face, the surprise, and the tears that threatened to fall. There was no other word to use besides heartbreak, and it had been his fault. He didn't know why he had brought her home, he didn't particularly fancy the girl, but the alcohol made his veins feel warm and she smiled at him and the impulsiveness and self-destruction within himself were a shoot-first ask-questions later duo that ruled his brain. He realized that you deserved more. More than him, more than the empty bed he left you with, or the avoidance of feelings. Sometimes Sirius wished you'd forget him. It would be better for you.

To forget his face, forget his name.

Your eyes began to pry open, and he couldn't help but spill his guts again. 

"For so long I hoped I'd fall asleep at the wheel and crash my motorbike on the ride home-" Your heart jumped to your throat, your head shooting up at the realization he was awake. His words were raspy and as much as he tried they were barely a whisper. "But then you came back from your apprenticeship, and moved right in front and it felt like-" he looked away now, his fingers fidgeting with yours. "Like you were that light at the end of the tunnel." Your hand was still pressed against his. 

"I stopped wanting to fall asleep on the bike, I just wanted to fall asleep with you"

"You are an idiot Sirius Black" The frustration gathered over the last two days flushed your system, tears threatening to fall over "you are so reckless and so utterly stupid-" tears flowed down your cheeks but you wouldn't let them fall, furiously wiping them away with your sleeve. He looked at you heartbroken. 

"I know love"

"No," you shook your head now and stood up, his hand falling back to the bed "You don't know, all I do is worry and care, and you don't!" your laugh came out crueler than you meant but it came out nonetheless "You never care Sirius- Oh and imagine when I don't see or hear from you for days, and suddenly you're dragged in here looking like you're seconds away from dying-" you paced around as you went on, your hands running through your hair in frustration.

"I didn't think you wanted to see me" he stared at you now, hoping to catch your gaze. Hoping to see if you meant it, hoping to see, something. Something that would tell him what he so desperately wanted to know. 

"I always want to see you" You locked eyes with his, his stupidly gorgeous stormy eyes. And he knew, from the pain in your eyes, from the way your pupils blew the second you looked at him, from the way you softened, anger dissipated when you looked at him. You didn't understand how anyone could look like that, how even scratched up he looked like he had been carved out of marble. "All I want is to see you," you were close enough for him to reach for your hand, even with pain shooting down his ribs, he did.

"I'm sorry,” you sat on the edge of his bed, closer than you had intended, as he spoke, looking at your intertwined hands. “and I’m sorry about the lass too-“

You scrunched up your nose, “I reckon that is none of my business” and he wondered how long you had to tell yourself that until you believed it.

”I sent her home, nothing happened-“

“you can go out with whoever you wish”

”I only want you” 

You looked at him again, into his eyes, into his soul. Hoping to catch a flicker of truth. His eyes looked at you with hope and want, and you knew. Sirius would never lie to you, he might be a drunk, and emotionally unavailable, and Merlin knows that he’s a mess, but Sirius Black was not a liar, especially to you. He squeezed your hands, pulling them close to his chest, pressing them against his heart.

”I’m so in love with you, you drive me mad,” he said this last part with a laugh, pulling a teary giggle out of you. You couldn’t help yourself, the wetness of your eyes and cheeks coming without you meaning it to. He swiped a thumb under your eyes, a nervous laugh threatening to spill from his lips, a watery smile forming instead.

“I am regrettably, in love with you as well” You smiled now, looking away from his scoff. His lips curled into a full-fledged smile now, as did yours.

“Am I that awful?”

”I fear so Mr Black,“ you glanced at him teasingly, the glint in your eye he loved so much returning. 

“I reckon you wouldn’t want to kiss a tosser like me then,” You couldn’t help but smile, as the both of you subconsciously leaned closer. His hands cupped your cheeks as your foreheads pressed together. “Can I—“

You didn’t let him finish, finally closing the distance between you. He kissed you shyly, a trait you didn’t know he possessed. You kiss him soft and open-mouthed, a small hum coming from his chest. His fingers hold on to your face, desperate to keep you close, and and you revel in the fact that his kiss turns hungry like he’d never get to kiss you again. 

You part with a small satisfied sigh, foreheads pressed against one another and eyes fluttered shut. Sirius thought about the many times he wondered what this would feel like, to press his lips against yours. He had dreamt of this for months; when you walked around your room in your underwear ranting or every time you opened the door, he dreamt of kissing you in the mornings and late at night.

Sirius realized, as he pressed another kiss to your lips, he had dreamt of kissing you for years.

[cumironi]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BABY : GOJO SATORU, GETO SUGURU

summary. december has come and that is only mean one thing; gojo’s birthday. for the last few years, you have been celebrating his birthday together with geto and this year wasn’t any different— and gojo getting more and more spoiled than the last

warning. established relationship, fluff, crack, geto give gojo a kiss, gojo fell asleep while sucking your nipple.

p.s please don’t come at me, ik this is all over the place and didn’t focus entirely on gojo’ s birthday and just basically a mess. but i hope it is still enjoyable and DON’T COME AT ME FOR MAKING GEGO GAY A BITTTT 😭

11:30 pm.

you return the smile, your heart skipping a beat as you slowly close the door behind you, careful not to make a sound. the room feels cozy, a perfect contrast to the late hour, and you make your way deeper into the room, your footsteps light and purposeful.

you quietly peek through the door of your boyfriends’ study room, the faint glow of the desk lamp casting a warm light across the room. geto is sitting at his desk, surrounded by papers and books, his brow slightly furrowed as he focuses on his work. but as soon as he feels your presence, he lifts his head, a soft smile curling on his lips when his eyes meet yours.

geto tilts his head slightly, still smiling, as he asks softly, “is satoru asleep?”

you shake your head, the hint of excitement buzzing through you like electricity. you move toward him, your hand reaching out to touch his shoulder lightly. the warmth of his body under your fingertips makes your heart race even faster, and geto chuckles, clearly noticing the way your energy shifts.

“i can feel that excitement radiating off of you,” he says with a teasing grin, his voice low and amused.

you laugh softly, not bothering to hide your enthusiasm. “it’s his birthday,” you reply, your gaze locking with his as you step even closer. geto’s smile widens, and for a moment, all the work and the world outside of this room disappear, leaving just the two of you.

you chuckle, your smile still wide, the excitement in your chest barely contained. at midnight, it would be gojo’s birthday, and you and geto had spent the past few days preparing a surprise that you knew would leave him grinning from ear to ear. you couldn’t wait to see his reaction when the clock struck twelve, when the world would shift from an ordinary moment into one filled with laughter, warmth, and a little bit of mischief. the thought of gojo’s face lighting up made your heart flutter with anticipation.

the soft hum of the clock ticking away in the background heightens the anticipation in the room, the silence between you and geto charged with unspoken excitement. you glance at geto, your gaze playful, leaning slightly against the desk where he’s still sitting while holding his hand. “so, did you get him any presents?” you ask, a teasing smile tugging at the corners of your lips. you had already planned your own surprise, of course, but you were curious to know if geto had something up his sleeve as well.

geto grins as he lifts your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours, his knuckles brushing against your skin, leaving a trail of tingles. he brings your intertwined hands up to his mouth, the corners of his lips curled up in a playful smile. “maybe i did,” he answers, his voice barely a low rumble, “but if i tell you now, it’ll ruin the surprise.”

gently, he pulls you closer until you’re standing between his parted legs, the heat of his body reaching you like a wave, making your cheeks flush.

geto’s smile softens as he gazes up at you, his dark eyes warm and filled with quiet affection. his free hand moves up, gently brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear, the touch soft and deliberate. “you’re already blushing,” he murmurs, his voice low and laced with amused affection, his thumb lazily tracing the curve of your cheek. the warmth of his touch sends a subtle shiver down your spine, and the teasing lilt in his tone makes it clear he’s enjoying the little game. the way his eyes flicker with a hint of mischief has your heart skipping a beat.

“care to share what you got for satoru?” he adds, his gaze holding yours, as though daring you to spill your secret.

you hum softly, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing you flustered. instead, you tilt your head, a small, knowing smile playing on your lips. “nothing expensive,” you say casually, your voice calm, though the glimmer in your eyes reveals your own teasing nature. “but it’s something i know he’ll love.” your free hand moves up to touch geto’s cheek, your fingertips grazing the soft line of his jaw. the intimacy of the moment makes the room feel even cozier, as if it’s just the two of you in the entire world.

geto’s smirk only widens at your response, his eyes sparkling with a mixture of amusement and interest. his lips press against your palm, his breath warm against your skin, before he lets go and leans back in his chair, his gaze holding yours with a playful intensity that makes your heart skip a beat.

“you’re being awfully vague,” he replies, his voice carrying a teasing note. “but color me intrigued.” you chuckle softly, shaking your head at his theatrics, the warmth of his lips lingering on your palm making your cheeks flush. “you’ll just have to wait and see,” you reply, your tone light and teasing, mirroring his playful energy.

“do you want to help me finish preparing the cake?” you ask, your tone light but expectant. your fingers linger on his skin for just a moment longer before you pull away, watching as his smirk deepens ever so slightly. he looks into your eyes, studying you for a moment, before he nods. “sure. lead the way.” reaching out, you grab his hand and give it a gentle tug, urging him to stand. “come on, no time to waste.”

geto’s smirk widens as he lets you pull him up, his movements fluid and unhurried as though he’s savoring every second of this moment. his fingers intertwine with yours, his touch firm yet gentle, and he follows you willingly as you lead him toward the door.

the two of you move in perfect sync, the soft shuffle of your footsteps barely audible as you open the door and slip out into the dimly lit hallway. you glance back at geto, your free hand pressing a finger to your lips in a silent signal, a mischievous glint in your eyes. he mirrors the gesture with an exaggerated nod, his smirk never faltering while he sling his arm over your shoulder.

you walk side by side, the quiet of the house amplifying the shared anticipation between you. every creak of the floorboards feels like a secret whispered into the night, but neither of you speaks, determined not to let gojo catch on while you walk outside the house to the other part of the house.

you and geto slip out quietly, the crisp night air brushing against your skin as you make your way to the storage house. the faint crunch of gravel beneath your feet is the only sound breaking the silence. geto walks beside you, his hand on yours still, glancing around with his usual calm demeanor.

outside, tucked neatly in the backyard, there’s a tiny house serving as your storage area. it’s nothing fancy, but it’s essential—especially when you’re living with two foodie boyfriends. with their insatiable appetites, stocking up on food feels less like grocery shopping and more like preparing for a natural disaster. shelves line the walls, stacked with snacks, ingredients, and an impressive variety of meats and frozen goods. it’s a foodie’s paradise, and you’re the mastermind behind keeping it organized.

once inside, the cool air from the storage hits you, and you let out a soft breath. the place smells faintly of frozen goods and freshly stocked produce. without hesitation, you head to the large freezer in the corner, flipping the lid open with practiced ease.

inside, nestled carefully on the top shelf, is a cake already decorated in blue and white—a color scheme you knew gojo would love. his name is written elegantly across the top in neat, swirling letters, the whole design simple yet striking. you reach in, pulling the cake out with care, your hands steady as you place it on the counter nearby.

“there it is,” you say softly, smiling as you look down at the cake, a swell of pride and anticipation building in your chest. “but we can’t eat this tho, we will get diabetes if we have this,” you jokingly said, hiding the truth beneath.

it was a chocolate cake, rich and decadent, the kind of cake that could practically give an entire family diabetes just by looking at it. but that’s exactly how gojo liked it. being the sweet tooth he was, anything less than over-the-top sweetness wouldn’t have cut it. you’d made sure every layer, from the soft, moist cake to the thick, sugary frosting, was as sweet as he could possibly want.

geto’s eyes flicker down to the cake, appreciating the intricate design you’ve gone through. he can almost taste the sweetness just by looking at it, knowing full well how indulgent gojo is when it comes to his sweet tooth. a small smirk tugs at the corner of his lips as he glances back up at you, a glimmer of mischief in his gaze.

“yeah, that looks… intense,” he muses, his voice laced with a hint of dry humor. “you’re going to single-handedly give him sugar shock before he even blows out the candles.”

you chuckle softly, carefully holding the cake in your hands, its weight a reminder of the effort you’d put into making it perfect for gojo. “don’t worry,” you reply, glancing at geto with a playful smile. “i bought another cake—one that we can actually eat without feeling like we need to drink a gallon of water afterward. it’s not too sweet, just how you like it.”

geto raises an eyebrow, his smirk widening slightly. “thoughtful as always,” he murmurs, his tone carrying a mix of teasing and genuine appreciation. the two of you step out of the storage house and into the cool night air, you make your way back toward the main house. the quiet sounds of the night surround you—crickets chirping faintly in the distance, the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze.

you glance at geto from the corner of your eye, noticing the relaxed expression on his face. you know he’s not much of a sweet tooth, and the thought of him sitting through a cake this sugary just for gojo’s sake makes you smile to yourself. “i figured you’d appreciate not being forced to eat something that could make your teeth ache,” you say lightly, the warmth in your voice evident.

geto lets out a quiet huff of laughter, shaking his head slightly at your thoughtfulness. your consideration for both him and gojo is something he loves about you, the way you balance everyone’s needs and desires with such ease.

“yeah, not a fan of toothache,” he responds, his tone laced with sarcasm. “you really do think of everything.” the warm night air wraps around you like a gentle embrace, adding to the comforting atmosphere between you and geto. his eyes flicker to the cake in your hands, then back to your face, his gaze softening ever so slightly.

the two of you finally settle in the living room, which you’ve transformed into a cozy little birthday setup. streamers in shades of blue and white hang from the ceiling, balloons tied to chairs, and the coffee table is adorned with small snacks and drinks. it’s simple, intimate, but perfect for a midnight celebration.

geto is standing on a chair, fiddling with the decorations, trying to secure the “happy birthday” banner to the wall. meanwhile, you sit cross-legged on the floor, leaning over the coffee table as you carefully place tiny candles on the chocolate cake. with a steady hand, you fix the “27” number candles right in the center, stepping back slightly to admire your handiwork.

“perfect,” you mutter, mostly to yourself.

“not bad,” geto comments from above, glancing over his shoulder to check on your progress. the two of you are so engrossed in your tasks that neither notices the soft padding of footsteps approaching. suddenly, a groggy voice cuts through the quiet.

“what are you two doing?”

the sound startles you both, your head whipping around just in time to see gojo standing in the doorway. he’s in his striped blue pajamas, his hair messy from sleep, rubbing at his stomach as he stares at you both with a confused and sleepy expression.

“oh shit,” geto mutters, his hand slipping as he tries to finish hanging the banner. the next thing you know, he’s losing his balance, stumbling off the chair and landing on the floor with a thud.

“what…?” gojo’s voice trails off as he blinks at the scene, his half-asleep brain trying to process the chaos in front of him. you and geto exchange a panicked look, the kind of unspoken communication born from years of knowing each other. without missing a beat, you grab the confetti cannon sitting nearby.

“happy birthday!” you yell, firing the cannon into the air, a shower of colorful confetti raining down over the room. geto, now laying on the floor, throws his arms up weakly. “happy birthday, satoru,” he echoes, his tone exasperated but amused.

gojo’s expression transforms from sleepy confusion to surprised delight as he’s showered with confetti. the messy display of celebration seems to snap him fully awake, his eyes blinking rapidly, as if trying to process what’s happening.

he takes a few steps further into the room, a wide grin spreading across his face as he takes in the decorations, the cake, and the two of you. “you guys didn’t need to do all this,” he says, his voice still rough from sleep but filled with an endearing happiness.

you roll your eyes playfully at his words, the corners of your lips tugging into a fond smile. “shut up,” you say lightly, reaching out to grab his hand. before he can protest further, you tug him down to the floor beside you, his lanky frame folding awkwardly as he sits cross-legged. “it’s your birthday,” you add, your tone softer now, though there’s still a teasing edge to it. “of course, we had to. what kind of people would we be if we didn’t?”

gojo looks at you, his grin widening, his pale blue eyes glimmering with gratitude. “you’re really too good to me, you know that?” before you can respond, geto finally joins you, settling on the floor across from gojo with an exaggerated sigh. “don’t let it go to your head,” he quips, smoothing out the wrinkles in his shirt before leaning back on his hands.

“oh, too late,” gojo shoots back, his grin turning smug as he glances between the two of you. “i already feel like a king.” you and geto exchange a knowing look, and you can’t help but laugh, the warmth of the moment washing over you. the three of you sitting together, surrounded by the simple yet thoughtful decorations, feels perfect—intimate and just right for celebrating someone as extra as gojo.

“well, your highness,” you say, nudging him with your shoulder. “better blow out those candles before the wax melts all over the cake and don’t forget to make a wish.”

geto, ever the calm and collected one, pulls out a highlighter from his pocket and he flicks the flame to life and leans over the cake, carefully lighting the tiny candles once more. the soft glow bathes the room in a warm, golden hue, casting gentle shadows on the walls.

as the last candle is lit, the room is bathed in a soft, warm glow, and for a moment, gojo just stares at the flicker of the flames, a look of contemplation on his face. finally, with a wide smile, he closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and leans forward, blowing out the candles in one firm exhale. the three of you sit in the quiet that follows, a comfortable silence filled with anticipation. gojo’s eyes slowly open, and he turns to look at you and geto, his expression a mix of happiness and satisfaction.

“so, what did you wish for?” you ask, breaking the silence and leaning forward to study his face, your eyes sparkling with curiosity. gojo’s smile widens, a mischievous glimmer in his eyes. “now now,” he teases, his tone lighthearted. “if i tell you, it won’t come true.”

you roll your eyes affectionately at his cheeky response, a playful scoff escaping your lips. “ugh, you’re awful,” you mutter, but the smile on your face betrays your true feelings. you shift closer to him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders in a tender embrace. “happy birthday, baby,” you murmur, your voice soft and filled with love, your lips brushing lightly against his temple.

gojo lets out a quiet hum, a content sound that is almost a purr, leaning into your touch. his eyes close briefly as your lips touch his temple, enjoying the comfort and warmth of your embrace. “thank you,” he responds, his voice softer now, filled with genuine gratitude. he turns slightly, his arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you closer until you’re practically sitting in his lap, your bodies pressed together. geto, watching the intimate exchange, grins to himself, his fingers fiddling with the cake wrapper idly.

gojo buries his face into the crook of your neck, his warm breath tickling your skin as he mutters a soft, “how’d i get so lucky?” you let out a quiet chuckle, your hand moving to card through his messy hair, smoothing it back affectionately.

geto’s eyes flicker from you both, to the cake, then back again. he breaks the silence this time, leaning forward slightly. “so, are we going to eat that cake or just stare at it all night?” he suggests, the hint of impatience evident in his tone. gojo lifts his head just enough to glare at geto, a mock pout on his face. “rude,” he mutters, the complaint lacking any real heat. “i’m enjoying the moment, okay? can’t you be romantic?”

“patience, baby,” you say, shooting a half-amused, half-exasperated look in his direction. your fingers continue to run through gojo’s hair while he resting his chin against your collarbone as he looks at geto. “yeah, ‘baby’, patience.” he echoes, his tone carrying a hint of amusement, then adds, “a whole two minutes has passed, isn’t that a new record for you?” gojo’s words are muffled against your shoulder, his lips moving in a half-formed smirk. he untangles himself from you reluctantly. geto just huff along with eyes-rolling but didn’t say anything.

even so, you stand to grab another cake, a chorus of crackles and pops sound from your body, the result of sitting in one position for too long. geto lets out a low whistle, amused by the sounds. “jeez, old much?” he teases.

“shut it,” you retorted with a chuckle, kicking his leg gently before waltz to the kitchen.

geto mock-winces at your kick, rubbing his leg dramatically. he groans, but there’s a smirk on his face, showing he’s not really hurt. gojo laughs at geto’s playacting, leaning back against the sofa, arms stretched lazily above his head. “you’re such a baby,” he says, rolling his eyes. while you’re in the kitchen, geto turns his attention back to gojo. “so,” he begins, the teasing lilt in his voice evident, “any deep thoughts on turning twenty-seven?”

gojo hums thoughtfully for a moment, considering the question. “well,” he starts, a sly smile pulling up the corners of his lips, “i guess i’m officially the oldest amongst the three of us now.” geto snorts, amused by the answer. “yeah, a real sage,” he says sarcastically. “and what wisdom have you gained as our senior?”

gojo pretends to give the question serious consideration before replying, “well, i can confidently say i’ve gained more years of knowing how to deal with you two brats.” geto lets out a laugh, throwing a nearby cushion at gojo in jest. “oh please, you’re only a year older than me and two than her,” he retorts, the playful eye roll only emphasizing his point. “don’t get cocky.”

gojo catches the cushion with ease, tossing it back at geto with an exaggerated shrug. “what can i say?” he says, his tone light and carefree. “i’m just naturally wiser than all of you.” he looks towards the kitchen, the sound of you moving around carrying into the living room. “though,” he muses, his gaze returning to geto, “i’ll admit, having a couple of years on her does give me certain benefits.“

geto raises an eyebrow, curious despite himself. “oh, yeah? like what?”

gojo’s smirk widens, his voice suddenly taking on a suggestive edge. “let’s just say, a couple extra years gives me a bit more experience in certain areas.” he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, a lewd implication hanging in the air. geto can’t help but make a face, part amusement, part disgust.

just as geto opens his mouth to retort, your voice cuts through their bickering. “can’t leave you two alone for five minutes without fighting,” you say, shaking your head in mock exasperation as you step back into the living room. in your hands is a simple strawberry cheesecake, balanced on top of a stack of plastic plates.

both of them pause, turning to look at you. gojo’s expression lights up instantly as his eyes land on the cheesecake. “two cakes this year? you’re really going all out, baby,” he says, practically beaming with happiness.

you chuckle softly, settling onto the floor beside him. placing the cake down next to his birthday cake, you start handing out the plates. “it’s for all of us,” you explain with a gentle smile. “you know how sugu’ isn’t really into overly sweet things, so i got another cake he could enjoy too.”

you turn to gojo, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his cheek. “but don’t worry, love, it’s still sweet enough for you to enjoy,” gojo blinks, his grin softening into something quieter, his gaze lingering on you. beside him, geto doesn’t say a word but glances at the second cake and then back at you, a flicker of unspoken gratitude in his expression.

neither of them comments on your gesture, but the way they look at you—silent, warm, and full of appreciation—speaks volumes. while you busily placing the plastic plates in forks in front of them, oblivious to their fond gazes, they exchange a brief glance, a shared understanding passing between them.

you turn back to gojo after placing the last plate down, noticing his expression. his blue eyes are locked on you, a quiet softness lingering in his gaze that catches you off guard. raising your eyebrows, you tilt your head slightly, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “come on, baby, cut your cake,” you say with a soft chuckle, nudging him gently to break the moment.

gojo snaps out of his contemplative daze, the soft smile still lingering on his lips. “oh, right,” he mutters, almost sheepish, as if caught staring. he picks up the knife, carefully cutting into the cake. the first slice is perfectly shaped, and he picks it up, holding it out to you on the plate. “you have the first slice,” he offers, his tone affectionate.

geto, watching this interaction, simply shakes his head, a smirk on his face. “sap,” he mutters under his breath.

you send a playful glare in geto’s direction, narrowing your eyes just enough to feign annoyance despite the smile. turning back to gojo, who’s completely unfazed by geto’s comment, you find him grinning at you, his usual boyish charm on full display. his focus is entirely on you as he holds out the plate, his eyes soft and filled with affection.

“aww, thank you, baby,” you say warmly, accepting the plate from his hands. leaning closer, you press a gentle kiss to his cheek, your lips lingering just a second longer to show your appreciation.

gojo’s skin tingles under your touch, the gentle kiss sending a pleasant shiver down his spine. he leans into your touch slightly, enjoying the closeness of your body. he takes a slice of cake for himself, then turns to geto, offering him a plate with a look of exaggerated patience. “do you want a slice, suguru? or do you plan on just watching us eat all night?”

geto rolls his eyes, but a small smirk tugs at the corner of his lips. “how magnanimous of you,” he teases, taking the plate. as you all begin eating, the atmosphere in the room is warm and comfortable. the sound of quiet chatter, the scraping of forks against plates, and occasional soft laughter fills the space.

gojo, happily devouring his cake, steals not-so-subtle glances at you between bites. he’s so entranced by these moments of simple joy—the soft sound of your voice, the way your eyes crinkle when you smile. geto, meanwhile, eats his slice at a more leisurely pace, occasionally making comments that earn him a scoff or a nudge of the foot from you.

after the cake, the three of you sat comfortably on the floor in a cozy circle, surrounded by colorful wrapping paper and boxes of presents, most of them clearly marked as being from you. gojo, sitting in the middle like a spoiled king, eagerly opened his gifts one by one, his expressions ranging from childlike glee to smug satisfaction with each unwrapped item.

each gift he opened seemed to spark a new round of commentary—designer clothes he immediately draped over himself like a model, a sleek pair of sunglasses he tried on indoors, and a book he had casually mentioned wanting months ago.

the room filled with his dramatic exclamations. “oh, this is perfect! just what i needed!” he said, holding up an expensive watch that sparkled under the dim lighting. he turned to you with a playful smirk. “you really know how to spoil me, don’t you?”

you leaned on your elbow, resting your chin in your hand, watching him with an amused grin. “it’s not from me,” you replied, your tone was laced with confusion before looking at geto who’s lounge comfortably on his side eating a frozen frosting from the cake.

gojo paused mid-action, his smile faltering for a moment. he turned to look at geto in disbelief, watching as the man casually licked frosting off his finger, the picture of innocence. “wait,” gojo said, his voice laced with mock indignation. “this one’s from you?”

geto simply chuckled, unbothered by gojo’s reaction. “what, did you think just because she remembered everything you wanted but i wouldn’t?” he replied lightly.

gojo huffed dramatically, still struggling to get over the audacity of geto’s statement. he glanced at you, as if silently asking for confirmation, but you only smirked, enjoying the situation too much to chime in. “alright,” he finally said, turning back to geto. “i guess i underestimated you. didn’t think you’d be such a romantic,” he teased. “and since when do you buy me really expensive watches?”

geto raises an eyebrow at gojo’s remark, a playful smirk creeping onto his face. shifting slightly, he moves to sit up straighter, his posture exuding a calm confidence. “since ever,” he replies smoothly, his tone carrying a teasing edge. “what do you mean by that question, huh? questioning my generosity now?”

before gojo can respond, geto leans in without warning, his movements fluid and deliberate. he places a quick peck on gojo’s lips, the lingering sweetness of frosting making the moment both tender and mischievous.

gojo blinks, his indignant expression faltering as he processes the gesture, his cheeks tinging pink. but before he can fully recover, geto reaches out and gives the back of his head a light smack, a satisfied grin on his face. “happy birthday, dumbass,” geto says casually, leaning back with an air of smug victory.

you just chuckle softly, shaking your head with a fond smile, not saying a word. it’s a scene you’ve come to expect from them—their playful banter, the way they poke fun at each other while still showing the warmth and affection they share.

you watch as gojo, still a little flustered from the unexpected kiss and playful smack, rubs the back of his head with a mock pout. he glances at geto, clearly trying to muster up a response, but his expression softens, unable to hold onto the annoyance for too long.

geto’s smug smile widened as he saw how flustered gojo was, his cheeks still tinged with a blush that contrasted with his usual cool demeanor. “aww, what’s the matter, satoru? can’t find words?” geto teased, his tone light but amused. “is the great satoru gojo being rendered speechless by one little kiss?”

gojo, still recovering, shoots a glare at geto. “shut up,” he snaps, although there’s no real heat in his voice. “it just took me off guard, that’s all.” gojo lets out a huff of mock indignation, still rubbing the back of his head from the playful slap. but despite his fake annoyance, there’s a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“don’t think this makes you any less of a jerk,” he grumbles, shooting a half-hearted glare in geto’s direction. “but thanks.”

he glances over at you, and his expression softens even more, his competitive spirit momentarily forgotten in your presence. he reaches out, tugging you closer, and pulls you into his lap once more. he wraps his arms around you, holding you close, his chin resting on your shoulder. the competitive tension between him and geto seems to ease slightly, his focus now shifting towards you and the comfort of having you in his embrace.

“you know,” he says, his voice muffled against your shoulder, “you should consider getting me a present too sometime.”

you glance over your shoulder, meeting gojo’s gaze with a raised eyebrow. the playful tone in your voice contrasts the serious look on his face as you ask, “what do you mean? i’ve given you more gifts than sugu’ has.” you chuckle, shaking your head in amusement. “isn’t this enough?” you ask, motioning to the cake, the presents, and the warmth of the moment.

gojo hums, his arms wrapping around your waist a little tighter. he rests his chin on your shoulder, enjoying the comfort of your presence. “i know, i know,” he grumbles, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. “but yours are always so thoughtful. they’re nice, really, i’m not complaining.” he lets out a small sigh, the playful tension from before now completely faded. he leans into you, seeking comfort in the warmth of your body. “i’m just saying… it’s nice to be spoilt sometimes, you know?

you roll your eyes playfully, muttering under your breath, “of course you do, baby. always need the grand gestures.” deep down, you know he’s just saying it for the sake of it. he’s more than grateful for the gifts you and geto have put together for him, even if his words don’t always match his actions. but you also know he enjoys the attention, the drama of the moment, and that’s part of the charm.

as you glance around at the scattered gifts, your gaze lands on the large box tucked away in the corner. a mischievous smile plays at the corner of your lips as you shift in gojo’s lap to grab it, your fingers brushing against the glossy paper. “you’re going to love this one,” you tease, lifting the box so he can see it clearly. “i’ve been waiting a long time to get everything together for this.”

gojo perks up as you move to grab the large box, his curiosity piqued by the hint of mischief in your eyes. he watches you move with anticipation, his arm still wrapped around your waist, keeping you close. “oh?” he says, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “you’re really teasing me now.”

he eyes the large box, sizing it up, his mind racing with possibilities. “alright, color me intrigued. what could it be? i’m almost scared,” he jokes, although it’s clear that he’s more excited than anything. “come on, give me a hint,” he prompts, leaning closer to the box. “just a small hint. come on, baby,” he whines, giving you a light tug, trying to get you to reveal what’s in the box.

geto, watching the interaction, lets out a snort. “chill, sstoru,” he teases. “you’re like a child waiting for christmas.” you chuckle softly, enjoying the moment of suspense as both gojo and geto eye the box with varying degrees of curiosity. you shift slightly in gojo's lap, holding the box with both hands and teasing them further.

“open it,” you say with a grin, “it might be something you’ll love the most, and sugu’ will probably hate it the most.” gojo’s interest is officially piqued, his eyes widening at your words. “oh, really now?” he says, his smirk growing wider. “if it’s something that’ll annoy suguru more than anything, i’m really invested now.”

geto, hearing this, lets out an exaggerated sigh. “great, just my luck,” he mutters, feigning annoyance but there’s a hint of anticipation in his eyes. you chuckle along with gojo, sharing a quiet moment of excitement, but neither of you says anything. gojo is clearly more excited than ever. he reaches out to grab the box from you, eager to see what’s inside as he tears through the wrapping paper. when the box is finally revealed, his eyes immediately widen, and a gasp of excitement escapes his lips. inside is a collection of limited edition digimon figures—exactly the ones he’s been searching for to complete his collection.

“NO WAY!” gojo exclaims, his voice practically vibrating with joy as he pulls each figure from the box, inspecting it like it’s a rare treasure. his usual confident demeanor fades into pure, childlike excitement. “i've been looking for these for so long! you actually got them!”

you smile at his reaction, feeling a deep sense of satisfaction knowing you got him something he’d truly love. but before you can say anything, geto groans from beside you. his expression is a mix of amusement and frustration, clearly not as thrilled as gojo.

inside the box is a collection of rare digimon figures, each meticulously designed and sought after by collectors. gojo’s obsession with digimon is no secret. he’s been a fan since childhood, hooked on the series’ themes of friendship, bravery, and adventure. over the years, his love for it has evolved into an all-out passion, bordering on obsession.

he owns an entire wall in the house dedicated to digimon memorabilia—action figures, collectible cards, posters, and even a custom light-up display for his prized items. it’s his pride and joy, though much to geto’s dismay, it comes with endless commentary about the lore, characters, and rare finds he’s stumbled upon.

meanwhile, geto groans loudly, pinching the bridge of his nose as though preparing for the inevitable. “fantastic,” he mutters, voice dripping with sarcasm. “just what we needed—more digimon figures. because clearly, we didn’t have enough already.”

you glance over at geto with a smirk. “come on, baby, he’s just happy,” you tease, watching gojo continue to examine his new figures, practically glowing. “it’s his birthday, let him be.” geto lets out a dramatic sigh, shaking his head as if the weight of the world is on his shoulders. “trust me, i know how happy he is," he mutters, side-eyeing gojo, who’s still gushing over the figures. “i’ve seen him in this state before.”

“look at this detail!” gojo gushes, holding up one of the figures as if it were the crown jewel of his collection, completely ignored the comments coming from his boyfriend’s mouth. “this one is from the limited anniversary set! do you know how long i’ve been trying to track this down? baby, you’re amazing!” he squeals, don’t even bother to throw neither you nor geto a glance.

geto leans back on his hands, watching as gojo meticulously admire each figure with a mixture of amusement and a hint of annoyance. “i just don’t get what’s so special about these silly little creatures,” he gripes. “they’re just fictional monsters, for god’s sake.”

“and don’t even get me started on the amount of space they take up in our living room,” geto continues, rolling his eyes. “not to mention the constant rambling about the lore and the different evolutions of each one. it's like a never-ending lecture.”

gojo, however, still is too engrossed in his figures to pay any attention to geto’s grumbling. he’s completely captivated by the intricate details of each figure, his eyes sparkling like a child at christmas. gojo holds up another figure, his eyes lighting up with a mixture of wonder and excitement. “and this one! this one’s been out of production for years! i’ve heard rumors about a secret stash of them, but i never thought i’d actually get my hands on one!”

geto rolls his eyes, groaning again. “oh, joy. more limited edition figures. just what his collection needs—more clutter.” but gojo is too distracted by his new acquisition to notice geto’s sarcasm. he gingerly places the figure next to the others, his gaze switching between them.

“these are going to look amazing on the wall,” he exclaims, his voice filled with a childlike glee that’s both adorable and slightly amusing. he finally looks up at you, his eyes gleaming with gratitude. “thank you so much, baby. this is the best present anyone has ever got me.”

he gives you a tight hug, holding you close against his chest. geto, on the other hand, just shakes his head, seemingly resigned to the fact that the house is now going to become a digimon museum.

you smile warmly, wrapping your arms around gojo as he hugs you tightly. his enthusiasm is infectious, and seeing him this happy makes all the effort worth it. “no problem, baby,” you say softly, leaning into his embrace. “i’m glad you love the gifts. i knew you’d appreciate them.”

gojo’s hold on you tightens, his excitement practically radiating off him. he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his voice muffled as he mutters his thanks again.

meanwhile, geto watches the scene with a mixture of affection and mock annoyance. he tries to maintain his grumpy facade, but there’s a hint of a smile playing on his lips as he witnesses the happy moment between you and gojo. “yeah, yeah,” he finally mutters, unable to hold back his own smile. “just make sure you still have enough room for our pictures on the wall.”

gojo enthusiastically rushes off to his collection, already placing the new figures in their proper spots. his excitement is palpable, and you can’t help but smile at how much he appreciates the gift. you turn to geto, noticing his playful pout as he watches the scene unfold. “come on, don’t get pouty,” you tease, pulling your knees to your chest, little, soft smile on your face. “he’s happy. you can handle a few days of digimon rambling. it’s worth it to see him this excited.”

geto lets out an exaggerated sigh, feigning annoyance, but the corner of his mouth twitches into a small smile.

“i guess you’re right,” he admits grudgingly. “it’s just... so many figures. and they take up so much room. but seeing him this happy...” he pauses, his expression softening slightly. “it does make it a little less annoying, i suppose.” he leans back, propping himself up on one elbow. “but i’m holding you accountable for this, you know. i’m going to pin all the digi-rants on you.”

you hum thoughtfully, a soft smile curving your lips as you reach over and gently touch geto’s cheek. his skin is warm beneath your fingers, and you give him a tender look, the corners of your eyes crinkling with affection.

“you know,” you say softly, your voice laced with a teasing warmth, “we can always take turns if you get too tired to listen. i’m more than happy to listen to him talk my ear off about his collection for hours if it means keeping that grin on his face.”

geto holds your gaze, his expression softening even further under your touch. he leans into your palm, his eyes never straying from yours. “you really know how to charm a guy, don’t you?” he mutters, a hint of mirth in his voice. “offering to take up the mantle of the digimon expert just to spare me the endless talks about evolutions and rare finds.”

he grins, a quiet chuckle slipping from his lips. “i think i’m starting to see why that idiot adores you so much. you’re a saint, you know that?” your eyebrows shoot up in mock surprise, a teasing smile curling at your lips. “oh? all these years living together and dating, and you’re only just now thinking he adores me? i thought that was already a given, sugu’,” you say, your voice laced with playful sarcasm.

geto laughs softly, rolling his eyes in feigned annoyance. “oh, shut up,” he teases back, his tone light and full of affection. “i know he adores you, alright. he’s not exactly subtle about it, considering he’s never had eyes for anyone but you.”

he shifts, propping himself up a little more as he continues, his voice quieter, more intimate. “but there’s a difference between knowing and really seeing it firsthand. watching you two interact, it just... hits a different way, y’know?” you shift closer to him, your movements fluid and unhurried as you place a hand on the floor beside his thigh for balance. geto watches you quietly, his sharp features softening as you settle near him.

without a word, he curls up, resting his head on your thigh like it’s the most natural thing in the world. his long, jet-black hair spills over your lap, and your free hand instinctively moves to comb through it, your fingers threading gently through the silky strands. “what about you?” you ask softly, your voice laced with playful curiosity. “do you not adore me yet?”

geto lets out a low hum, almost a purr, as your fingers run through his hair. his eyes flutter closed, and his lips curve into a soft smile that mirrors the tenderness in your touch. he turns his face towards you, nuzzling into the warmth of your thigh, his voice muffled slightly. “oh, no, of course not,” he mutters, tone dripping with affectionate sarcasm. “i only mildly tolerate you. nothing to worry about.”

you let out an exaggerated gasp, your lips curving into a playful pout as you glance down at him. “rudeee,” you whine, drawing out the word dramatically. to emphasize your mock displeasure, you give his hair a gentle tug—not enough to hurt, but just enough to earn his attention.

geto lets out a low chuckle as you tug his hair, his eyes shooting open to meet your faux-offended gaze. he looks up at you with a lazy grin, a flicker of boyish playfulness in his eyes. “what can i say, baby,” he teases, his voice dripping with mock innocence. “that’s just how i am. i’m a harsh, cold-hearted bastard.”

you let out an affectionate scoff, your fingers resuming their gentle combing through his hair. “yeah, a real hardass,” you mutter under your breath, a fond smile on your lips as you let your touch wander lower, tracing the line of his jaw.

geto lets out another soft hum, arching into your touch like a cat seeking affection. his gaze remains fixed on you as your hand drifts down, tracing the line of his jaw. his eyes darken slightly under your touch, and the hint of a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.

he reaches up, catching your hand in his as you trail along his jaw, his fingers intertwining with yours. he lifts your hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. “that’s right” he confirms, his voice a little huskier than before. “i’m the hardest of asses. definitely hard all over.”

you roll your eyes playfully as you pinch geto’s cheek, a mischievous grin curling on your lips. geto lets out a faux-offended grumble as you pinch his cheek, but the corners of his lips twitch, betraying his amusement. “pervert,” you tease with a soft laugh, watching his reaction. his words definitely aren’t helping his case, but you can’t help but enjoy how he responds to your touch.

you turn your attention toward gojo, your smile softens. he’s completely absorbed in his task, rearranging his figures with such care and enthusiasm that you can’t help but find it endearing. his mutterings under his breath about which figure goes where, as if each decision is a matter of great importance, makes you chuckle softly to yourself. you don’t say anything, just watching him as he moves figures around the shelf, humming in satisfaction when one looks just right.

geto watches you watch gojo, his expression shifting to a look of amused tenderness. he lets out a small huff, a mixture of feigned impatience and affectionate fondness. “look at how obsessed he is,” he comments, his voice soft but tinged with a hint of teasing as he nods towards gojo. he leans back against your leg, his head resting comfortably on your thigh. “you sure you know what you got yourself into with him?”

gojo groans in mock exhaustion as he turns away from the shelf, leaving his figurine arrangements for later. he strides back into the living room, shaking his head in feigned frustration. “ugh, i can’t keep doing this right now,” he says, stretching his arms dramatically. “too tired to rearrange a whole thing. we’ll continue later, alright?”

before you even have time to respond, gojo’s already making his way toward you, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips. with a swift movement, he collapses beside you on the floor, wrapping his arms around your body without warning, pulling you into his chest. the sudden shift in weight catches you off guard, and you both tumble backward onto the soft carpet, landing in a heap of limbs and laughter.

you let out a small, surprised gasp as gojo’s full weight presses you down, but you can’t help but laugh too. “really, baby?” you tease, trying to push him off, but his arms are locked around you, not giving you any space to move. “you’re impossible.”

“shh,” he murmurs, grinning like a child who just got away with something. “you’re just too comfy, i couldn’t resist.” his voice is low, playful, and warm, a complete contrast to his usual cocky tone. his leg shifts, draping over your thigh, effectively trapping you in place. but it’s not just any placement—his leg happens to nudge against geto’s head, the accidental collision causing geto to lift his gaze from where he’s sitting nearby.

geto lets out a soft grunt as gojo’s leg bumps against his head, his expression one of exaggerated annoyance. “watch where you’re putting your limbs, idiot,” he mutters, swatting gojo's leg away.

he glances up at the two of you, the sight of you trapped beneath gojo’s arms evoking a range of emotions from him. on the one hand, he’s mildly entertained by the sight of you struggling to push gojo off. but on the other, his eyes narrow as he sees how quickly gojo has taken possession of your body.

he lets out a short cough, drawing your and gojo’s attention. he lifts his head from your lap, the earlier softness in his eyes replaced by a hint of possessiveness as he looks at you both. “alright, you oversized monkey, get off her,” he mutters, his tone laced with mock irritation. “you’re crushing her.”

gojo laughs, his arms still wrapped firmly around you. “i’m not crushing her,” he retorts defensively, snuggling even closer to you. “she’s fine, see? she’s not complaining.” he looks down at you, mischief sparkling in his eyes. “right, baby? you’re not complaining.”

you let out a long, exaggerated sigh, your eyes fluttering half-lidded as you glance up at gojo. the lazy, fed-up expression on your face is clear, gojo, seeing your expression can’t help the small, amused chuckle that follows. “yeah, not complaining,” you murmur dryly, your voice thick with playful sarcasm. “really comfortable, totally.”

you shift slightly, your hands resting on his arms, but you make no real attempt to push him off. there’s a part of you that secretly enjoys these moments of closeness, even if gojo’s over-the-top antics are a bit much sometimes.

gojo grins down at you, his arms tightening around you. he knows you’re only pretending to be annoyed, and his smile only widens at your dry remark. “see? i knew you were enjoying yourself,” he teases with a wink. he nuzzles your cheek affectionately, his breath warm on your skin. “you know you can’t resist being wrapped up in my arms.”

meanwhile, geto watches from the side, observing the interaction between you and gojo. his expression is a mixture of affectionate annoyance and a hint of possessiveness before he shifts to lay on your other side.

he props himself up on his side, resting his head on his elbow. his free hand finds its way to your hair, his fingers gently running through the strands. he watches the two of you with a hint of annoyance, before leaning in and planting a gentle kiss on your shoulder. it’s a subtle move, not intended to get either of your attention, but a simple act of affection nonetheless.

he then turns his gaze towards gojo, his tone still carrying a hint of his earlier possessiveness. “i swear, you’re like a damn octopus. always has to be clinging onto something.” gojo chuckles, not even bothering to hide his grin at geto’s comment. “what can i say? i just can’t resist snuggling up to my favorite people,” he replies, his voice carefree.

he tightens his arms around you again, nuzzling his face into your neck. “besides, she’s just too comfortable not to cling to.” geto lets out another scoff, his expression somewhere between annoyance and amusement. “you’re just obsessed,” he retorts, rolling his eyes slightly.

you roll your eyes, already feeling the familiar tension between the two of them building up. with a soft sigh, you lift your hands to give both of them a gentle tap on their arms, urging them to stop. “stop fighting, you two,” you murmur with a playful edge to your voice, though there’s a hint of genuine weariness beneath it. you shift just slightly to make yourself more comfortable between them, trying to ease the situation as you rest your head back against gojo’s chest.

both geto and gojo instantly quiet when you speak up, their expressions shifting from their playful bickering to a softer look as they turn their attention towards you. gojo then chuckles lightly, his arms loosening their grip around you slightly. “sorry, baby,” he murmurs, rubbing his cheek against the top of your head affectionately.

geto lets out a quiet sigh, his expression softening as well. he reaches out and gently brushes a strand of hair away from your face, his touch light and tender. you hum softly, feeling the warmth of their attention settle around you like a cozy blanket. you shift slightly, carefully maneuvering so you’re facing gojo now, your eyes meeting his with a gentle smile. the playful tone from before has faded, replaced with something more genuine.

“so, what do you think?” you ask, your voice soft but curious, “did you like how we did your birthday this year?” you watch his face closely, noticing the way his expression softens when you address him directly. his eyes glimmer with affection, a subtle smile tugging at his lips as he considers your question.

gojo lets out a soft hum, his eyes never leaving yours as he processes your question. he can tell immediately what your question really means—it’s not just about the party itself, but about the time and effort you’ve put into making his day special.

he reaches out and gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch tender and affectionate. “of course i did, baby,” he murmurs, his voice full of warmth. “you always make sure my birthday is amazing… and it’s not just the presents or the party, y’know?”

he continues, his tone growing quieter but more sincere. “it’s the way you make me feel… like the luckiest guy in the world. it’s the little things you do—the little details—that show me how much you care.” he presses a light kiss to your forehead before wrapping his arms around you again, drawing you closer. he buries his face into the crook of your neck, taking a slow, deep breath.

geto watches the exchange between you and gojo, his gaze softening as he hears gojo’s heartfelt words. he can see the genuine affection in gojo’s eyes, the way his voice carries so much sincerity. a small, tender smile crosses his lips as he quietly leans down, his hand gently resting on gojo’s head.

he places a soft kiss on the top of gojo’s head, his voice low and warm. “glad you liked it,” geto murmurs, his words laced with a quiet fondness despite their earlier bickering. the feeling of geto’s lips on his head makes gojo shiver slightly, a pleasant warmth spreading through him at the affectionate gesture. he lets out a low hum, a soft smile playing at the corners of his lips.

geto pauses for a moment, just taking in the atmosphere around them, the closeness that feels so natural and comforting. “it’s nice to see you so happy,” he adds, his voice soft but unmistakably filled with a warmth that only the two of you could draw out of him.

gojo lifts his head, turning slightly so he can see geto over your shoulder. he meets geto’s gaze, his own expression softening further. “i’m happy because i have you both,” he murmurs, a hint of vulnerability slipping into his voice. he reaches out, gently taking ahold of geto’s hand with his free hand.

gojo gently intertwines his fingers with geto’s, a subtle but significant gesture—an affirmation that despite their playful banter and competition, their connection runs deep. he looks between you and geto, his expression turning a tender shade of fond. “i mean it, you know,” he adds, his voice still quiet and sincere. “i wouldn’t trade this for anything. not even a million dollars.”

you chuckle softly, the sound warm and full of affection as you watch your two boyfriends holding hands, the image almost comical after the playful bickering that just took place. “look at you two,” you tease lightly, a fond smile spreading across your face. “acting like actual boyfriends for once, huh? thought you’d be at each other's throats forever.”

you glance between them, your expression softening as you add, “it’s nice to finally see you both acting how you’re supposed to—like how a boyfriend does.” your voice carries a touch of playfulness, but the warmth behind it is unmistakable.

hearing your comment, they both let out exaggerated groans, pulling away from you in perfect unison as though they’d rehearsed it. gojo dramatically flops backward, flinging his arms over his head, while geto sits up straighter, muttering under his breath. “ugh, disgusting,” geto grumbles, wiping his hand on his pants like he’s trying to rid himself of the lingering touch. “satoru’s germs,” he adds, shooting the white-haired sorcerer a mock glare.

gojo laughs heartily, completely unfazed by geto’s exaggerated reaction. “hey, don’t act like you don’t secretly enjoy touching me,” he retorts with a cocky smirk, sitting back up. geto rolls his eyes, wrinkling his nose in exaggerated disgust. “please. as if i would ever actually enjoy touching your insufferable ass.” he shoots a playful glare at gojo before turning his gaze back towards you. “besides, i have better taste.”

you let out a dramatic sigh, still sprawled on the floor as you lift a hand to wipe your face, muttering under your breath, “i should’ve just kept my mouth shut...”

the three of you linger on the floor for what feels like hours, laughter and quiet conversation filling the living room as the clock ticks closer to four in the morning. the warmth of the night slowly gives way to the first hints of exhaustion, and you finally decide it’s time to call it a day.

“alright,” you announce, sitting up and stretching your arms over your head with a groan. “let’s wrap this up before we all pass out on the floor.” geto nods, standing and gathering the empty plates and glasses. “i’ll clean up in the kitchen,” he offers, already heading towards the sink. “don’t forget to move his gifts before he ends up leaving them on the couch for a week.”

you smirk at his remark, nudging gojo with your foot. “come on, birthday boy. let’s get your mountain of presents into the bedroom.” gojo grins, dramatically flopping onto his back. “ugh, but i’m so tired,” he whines, reaching a hand out to you like he’s expecting you to drag him. “carry me?” rolling your eyes, you grab his wrist and tug, forcing him to sit up. “i’m not your personal chauffeur. now, get up and help me.”

he chuckles, finally relenting as he gets to his feet. together, the two of you start gathering the assortment of wrapped boxes and bags from the living room. gojo occasionally pauses to make overly dramatic guesses about what’s inside each gift, earning a scoff or an eyeroll from you every time. “i’m telling you,” he says, holding up a box and shaking it lightly, “this one’s definitely another figure. i can feel it in my soul.”

“if you break it before even opening it, it’s on you,” you warn, taking the box from his hands and adding it to the pile you’re carrying. he pouts slightly as you snatch the box away from him, jokingly protesting your strict rule. “come on, you’re no fun,” he teases, putting on an exaggerated display of disappointment. “what’s the point of guessing if i can’t even shake them a little?”

you roll your eyes, a hint of amusement in your expression as you continue gathering the gifts. he chuckles at your reaction, grabbing another heavy box and hoisting it up with a dramatic groan. “this one’s heavy,” he notes, holding it up for you to see.

“what do you think it is?” he asks, feigning ignorance as he shakes the box again, this time more carefully. “hopefully not a boulder or something.” as you both make your way towards the bedroom, gojo continues his running commentary on each gift, making outlandish guesses as he goes. his enthusiasm is contagious, and you find it hard to stay mad at his dramatics, even as you struggle to carry the growing pile of presents.

“i’m calling it now,” he declares, holding a particularly large and oddly shaped gift in his hand with a knowing smirk. “this one’s definitely something... kinky.” he gives the box another shake, grinning at you with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “am i right?”

you raise an eyebrow, a smile tugging at your lips as you watch him with mild amusement. “really?” you ask, your tone dripping with mock disbelief as you snatch the box from his hands. “neither me nor sugu’ give you any sex toys or anything like that.”

his expression shifts to faux disbelief as you take the box away, a playful pout forming on his lips. “rude,” he teases, pretending to be deeply offended. he scratches his chin, clearly not ready to give up his theory just yet. “well, you might not have, but sugu’ definitely would,” he says confidently, his tone only half joking.

you roll your eyes at his antics, your hands busy arranging the pile of gifts. “if he does, there’s no way i’m letting you two use it on me,” you reply smoothly, your tone dry but laced with amusement.

gojo pouts again, mock disappointment clearly on his face. “aww, but it would be so much fun,” he whines, putting on a show of desperation. “don’t you trust me?” he gives you a puppy-dog look, widening his eyes and sticking out his bottom lip. “it’s my birthday, after all... and what better way to celebrate than with a little... experimentation?” he adds, his voice low and suggestive, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

he steps closer, his body now within inches of yours. he reaches out and gently tugs at the fabric of your shirt, his touch almost taunting. “c’mon..” he murmurs, his voice soft and persuasive, “wouldn’t it be fun to try something new for once?”

you can’t help but chuckle at his over-the-top display, half-tempted to give in to his charms despite your earlier protests. “nice try,” you reply, smirking slightly. “you’re not getting anything kinky from me, birthday boy, no matter how cute you act.”

gojo’s pouting increases, his expression now taking on a slightly more determined edge. “oh, come on,” he pleads, his grip on your shirt tightening just slightly. he leans in even closer, his voice dropping to a low whisper as he speaks right into your ear. “don’t you want to surprise me with something special?” he teases, his breath warm on your skin. “after all, it’s my birthday, and i’ve been such a good boy...”

he presses a light kiss just below your earlobe, his lips trailing down your neck in a way that’s both affectionate and slightly suggestive. “we could try something fun… something we’ve never done before…” he murmurs in between kisses, his tone both persuasive and almost pleading. “just this once…? pretty please?”

you wrap your arms around his shoulder, pulling him closer as you rest your cheek against the top of his head. his breath hitches for a moment, and you can feel the faintest smile against your neck. “i thought you said you were tired,” you murmur softly, your tone teasing but warm.

he lifts his head slightly, his gaze meeting yours with a sheepish look. “well, i was,” he responds, his voice slightly sheepish. “but then you mentioned the idea of kinky toys, and suddenly i’m feeling much more energized.” he grins, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “besides, what better way to end my perfect birthday than with some late-night fun?”

you roll your eyes, a faint smirk tugging at your lips. “for the record,” you say, your tone dripping with mock exasperation, “you’re the one who brought up the kinky toys first. don’t try to pin that on me.” your finger starts tracing lazy circles on his shoulder, your touch light and teasing as you tilt your head slightly. “and let me get this straight,” you continue, your voice softening but still laced with playful sarcasm. “all the gifts you got tonight weren’t enough? you really need another treat?”

he pouts again, letting out an exaggerated whine as you call him out on his attempt to pin the idea of toys on you. “hey, it’s not my fault that my dirty mind went there first, okay?” he defends, his tone a little defensive but still playful.

he leans into your touch, a low hum escaping his lips as your fingers trace circles on his shoulder. his expression takes on a hint of a cheeky smile as he responds to your question. “well… i never said no to more treats.”

geto strolls into the bedroom, a smirk on his lips as he takes in the scene before him. gojo pouting while wrapped in your arms, the pile of gifts littering the floor.

he leans casually against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest as he watches his boyfriend and girlfriend with a mixture of amusement and affection— watches the two of you flirt idly in the middle of the bedroom. his expression is mildly amused, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as he interrupts the exchange. “you’re both aware it’s already close to four in the morning, right?” he points out, his voice both fond and slightly teasing.

you let out a dramatic sigh of relief, leaning slightly toward geto as if he’s your savior. “thank god you’re here,” you say, your tone a mix of exasperation and amusement. “please, please tell satoru that he’s being completely unreasonable for wanting to do… kinky stuff at four in the morning, just because it’s his birthday.”

gojo lets out another overdramatic whine, making it very clear that he finds your plea to geto to take your side very offensive. “hey, i’m not being unreasonable!” he protests, his expression taking on a mix of mock offense and exaggerated hurt. “it’s my birthday, after all. i should be able to get my way for tonight, right?”

geto just raises an eyebrow, his smirk growing wider as he watches the two of you banter back and forth. he’s obviously enjoying watching you team up against gojo, his gaze shifting between you both with mild amusement. “and don’t try to deny it,” gojo adds, turning his pleading puppy eyes from you to geto. “you would be agreeing with me right now if you weren’t so tired.”

geto lets out a low chuckle, his smirk shifting to a subtle smile—one that holds a hint of affectionate indulgence. “i will admit, the thought is a little tempting,” he murmurs, his tone surprisingly contemplative. “but you’re both clearly exhausted, you especially,” he points at you.

you let out a soft sigh, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. thank god for geto, the voice of reason amidst gojo’s endless antics. you don’t say anything, but your subtle glance of gratitude toward geto says enough—he always knows how to balance things out.

geto steps closer, placing a hand on his shoulder with a mix of firmness and affection. “come on,” he says, his tone soft yet persuasive. “she’s been running around all day, planning and pulling off the entire birthday surprise for you.” he gestures toward the pile of gifts and the remnants of the celebration. “she deserves some rest. and you’ve still got hours of your day left. you can demand whatever you want later—when she’s had enough sleep.”

gojo’s pout deepens at geto’s words, his expression shifting to a mix of slight frustration and affectionate pleading. he starts to protest, opens his mouth to respond, but the stern edge to geto’s tone stops him in his tracks.

he looks sheepish for a moment, his gaze darting between you and geto before he lets out a sigh of defeat. “ugh, fine,” he relents, his voice laced with resignation. “i guess i’ll save my demanding for when we’re both more awake.”

he leans against you a little more, his arm wrapping around your waist in a loose but affectionate hold. “i’m holding you two to that, though,” he declares, his voice soft but with a hint of playfulness. “my birthday might be almost over, but that doesn’t mean i’m giving up on my request.”

geto just chuckles, a mixture of fondness and indulgence in his expression. he leans in to give gojo a quick kiss on the forehead before ruffling his hair affectionately. “we’ll see what we can do, birthday boy.”

geto notices the way your eyelids are drooping, your head slightly bobbing as you fight to stay awake. he lets out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head as he turns his attention back to gojo.

“she’s too tired to argue with you right now,” geto says softly, his tone laced with amusement as he gestures toward your sleep-heavy form. “but i’ll answer for her: we’ll think about it later. maybe.” he presses a quick kiss to gojo’s forehead before giving his hair a playful ruffle. “for now, let’s get you both to bed before one of you collapses.”

with that, geto moves to support you, carefully helping you towards the bed while still keeping an eye on gojo, who pouts but reluctantly starts to follow as well. “come on, birthday boy,” geto murmurs with a smirk, his tone a mix of affection and exasperation. “time to call it a night.”

gojo lets out a dramatic sigh, exaggerating the effort of walking in a bid for sympathy. “i’m not even tired,” he protests, his words undermined by another exaggerated yawn. he begrudgingly allows geto to guide him towards the bed, his expression still faintly sulky. “i’m not the one who’s about to pass out from exhaustion,” he mumbles, glancing over at you with a hint of concern in his eyes.

you climb into bed with a relieved sigh, the comfort of the soft sheets instantly lulling you further into sleepiness. without opening your eyes, you weakly extend your arms toward gojo, your voice soft and muffled as you murmur, “come here, satoru.”

gojo’s pout melts into a soft, affectionate smile at your sleepy request. he quickly complies, his slight frustration instantly replaced by tenderness. he crawls into bed beside you, his movements gentle and careful as he scoots close to you.

he wraps his arms around your form, holding you close against his chest in a warm embrace. “i’m still mad at you,” he whispers into your ear, his voice soft and warm despite his faux grumbles.

as gojo’s soft grumbles reach your ears, you let out a sleepy mumble, your voice barely above a whisper. “i know,” you say with a tiny sigh, the exhaustion evident in your tone as you snuggle a little deeper into his embrace.

gojo hums in response, clearly pleased despite his earlier protests. without warning, he takes off your shirt, tugging your bra down, nuzzling his face against your breast and taking your nipple into his mouth with a content sigh. “you’re lucky i love you,” he mumbles, his voice slightly muffled but filled with affection.

geto chuckles softly from behind, shaking his head at gojo’s antics. “you’re like a clingy puppy, satoru,” he teases lightly as he climbs into bed behind you. he gently pulls the blanket over all three of you, his arm slipping around your waist from behind as he settles in.

gojo just hums in response to geto’s teasing, his actions already making it clear that he’s not paying attention to his boyfriend’s words. he continues to nuzzle against your breast, his lips and tongue working gently against your skin as he lets out a soft, satisfied sound. “soft,” he murmurs, his words barely audible but the fondness and warmth in his tone obvious.

geto just shakes his head fondly, shifting behind you to wrap his arm around your waist and press a kiss to the back of your shoulder. “don’t bite,” geto warns gojo, his voice a mix of fond admonishment and mild warning. “she’s already exhausted. don’t go making things even more difficult for her to get to sleep.”

despite the warning, there’s a hint of amusement in his tone as he watches gojo’s antics. he shifts behind you, his arm tightening around your waist while his chin rests on your shoulder. “i swear, you’re worse than a needy puppy today.” gojo lets out a quiet huff, his voice slightly muffled by your chest. “it’s my birthday, i’m allowed to act a little needy,” he protests, his words a blend of stubbornness and endearing petulance.

he lets out another satisfied sigh, his breath warm against your skin as he nuzzles his face against your breast once more. “besides, she’s so soft and warm,” he mumbles, his voice laced with affection. “can you blame me for wanting to snuggle?”

their voices filter through your drowsy haze, you let out a low, sleepy grumble. “shut up, both of you,” you mutter, your words slurred and muffled by exhaustion. without opening your eyes, your arm tightens around gojo, pulling him closer against your breast.

both gojo and geto chuckle at your sleepy protest, their voices soft and affectionate. “see? she doesn’t mind,” gojo responds, his voice muffled by your chest as he lets out another contented sigh. “she’s just as clingy as i am right now.”

geto’s arm tightens around your waist as he nuzzles his face into the back of your neck. “you both cling like puppies when you’re tired,” he teases, his tone light and fond.

it wasn’t long before your breathing evens out and you drift into a deep sleep, the two of them fall quiet, their playful banter replaced with a shared sense of calm. gojo shifts slightly, careful not to disturb you, his head still resting against your chest. his eyes close as he lets himself relax, his earlier energy finally giving way to exhaustion.

geto look at gojo over your shoulder, and see the man having his lips around your nipple in contentment, acting like a toddler being breastfeed. he lets out a quiet huff, his expression both amused and slightly fond as he watches gojo clinging to you like an over-affectionate pup. he slowly reaches out, taking a gentle hold of gojo’s hair and giving it a light, affectionate tug. “you’re such a spoiled brat.” he mutters softly, his tone filled with a mix of admonishment and affection.

gojo gives one last soft, contented suckle before finally lifting his head from your breast, his gaze a little hazy from tiredness. he glances up at geto, his expression both sheepish and defiant all at once. “it’s my birthday,” he repeats, playing the birthday card once again, his voice groggy with sleep but still adamant. “i’m allowed to be spoiled today.”

“you’re spoiled every day, not just your birthday,” geto responds with a roll of his eyes, his voice dripping with affectionate sarcasm. he leans in and gently presses a kiss to the top of gojo’s head, his hand still lightly holding a handful of his fluffy hair. “go to sleep, you brat.”

gojo lets out a small huff, his expression still a mix of stubborn insistence and exhaustion. “i’m not tired,” he complains in a tone that suggests he’s lying. “i could stay awake all night.” he glances over at you, his gaze shifting to the peaceful expression on your face as you sleep. “i wanna keep watching her,” he mutters, his voice quieter now but still stubbornly resistant. “and suck her,” and then his lips find its way to your nipple once again.

geto lets out another sigh, a mix of fond amusement and mock annoyance in his tone. “you’re not watching her,” he murmurs with a soft chuckle, his hand gently tugging gojo’s hair again. “you’re just using her as an excuse to satisfy your clinginess.”

he glances at your sleeping form, his gaze shifting between your face and gojo’s lips latched onto your breast. “let her rest, for god’s sake. she’s been up all day, and you know she’s spent.”

gojo pouts slightly, his expression still stubbornly insistent but visibly affected by exhaustion. “i’ll be gentle,” he protests, his voice slightly quieter now. “i just wanna…” he trails off, his words lost as he nuzzles his face against your breast, his lips gently sucking once more. he lets out a soft, drowsy hum, his eyes starting to droop with tiredness. “can’t i just…?” he murmurs against your skin, the last word trailing off into a quiet sigh.

geto lets out another sigh, his expression softening as he watches gojo cuddle up against you. he shakes his head with a touch of affectionate resignation. “fine,” he relents, his voice quieter now but still affectionate. “be gentle, and let her rest. but if you keep her up all night, i swear i’ll tie you up and make you sleep on the sofa.”

gojo looks up at geto with a hint of victory in his gaze, his expression a mix of sleepiness and determination. “i’ll be gentle, i promise.” he responds, his voice still a little groggy but with a hint of stubbornness.

he wraps his arms around you, holding you closer against his body while he nuzzles his face against your breast once more. “i just wanna take a little more,” he whispers, his words slurring slightly with tiredness. “just a little more before i sleep.”

geto rolls his eyes once more, though his expression holds a hint of resigned fondness. “just a little more,” he repeats in a soft murmur, his words tinged with affectionate sarcasm. he leans in and kisses the top of gojo’s head again before settling back into his comfortable embrace.

he glances at your sleeping form once more, his gaze lingering on your face for a moment before returning to watch gojo sucking your nipple while the man continues to nuzzle against your breast, his lips softly suckling as he holds you closely against him. his movements are slow and drowsy, his tiredness now beginning to overpower his stubborn determination to stay awake.

his eyes start to droop, his breathing growing heavier and slower as he slowly succumbs to exhaustion. he lets out a low hum against your skin, his voice a soft murmur as he finally lets slumber claim him.

“so soft,” he mumbles, his words barely intelligible as he finally drifts off to sleep. geto watches gojo’s movements grow slower and more sleepy, a small, affectionate smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

he waits quietly, observing as gojo’s eyes slowly close and his breathing deepens with sleep. it takes a few moments, but eventually, gojo’s gentle sucking comes to a gradual stop, his body settling into a relaxed position against yours. geto gently runs his fingers through gojo’s hair, his touch gentle and affectionate. “finally,” he murmurs softly, his voice a mix of exhausted relief and fondness.

he lets out a quiet sigh, his gaze lingering on gojo’s sleeping form for a few moments longer before glancing at your face, observing your peaceful expression as you sleep. after a moment, he shifts his position, carefully moving so that he’s curled around behind you, his arm wrapping around your waist in a loose yet protective hold. he presses a soft, affectionate kiss to the back of your shoulder before letting his eyes close, his own exhaustion finally catching up to him.

[drluvsick]

Hashiras x super cheerful excited golden retriever girlfriend PLSPSLSPSLPSLPSLS🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

Reader is sunny , always smiling , laughing , extroverted , very strangely optimistic ^_^

𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐄 — 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐬

hashiras with a sunny, optimistic s/o. 📝 ik the ask called for fem! reader but this can be read gn! as well. GOOSH I’M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG TO DO… ALSO i knew that if i just did this regularly for everyone it’d start becoming repetitive in each one, so i put them into categories first and then wrote down what might be different with each hashira— hence why some entries are pretty short. SORRY AGAIN!!

word count : 1.3k+

𝙉𝙊𝙒 𝙋𝙇𝘼𝙔𝙄𝙉𝙂 . . . 𝘚𝘜𝘕𝘋𝘈𝘠 𝘉𝘌𝘚𝘛 — 𝘚𝘜𝘙𝘍𝘈𝘊𝘌𝘚

MATCHES your energy perfectly. absolutely loves the positive vibes, it makes their entire day and they live for it.

— rengoku, mitsuri, tengen (mostly)

FINDS it refreshing. the corps needs more people like you to make the negative energies of demon slaying wash away. may not completely match your energy, but it makes them happy no doubt to see you spreading that positivity (it’ll rub off on them soon enough if it hasn’t already).

— shinobu, obanai, gyomei

FOUND you annoying at first. absolutely thought you were stupid. though, in the end, they fell anyways without meaning to— soon finding your positivity and shining personality charming.

— sanemi

TREATS you like an any other day person they’d react with on a daily basis until you start spending more and more time with them, congrats! you’ve invaded their hearts.

— giyu, muichiro

𝐆𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐈 𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐉𝐈𝐌𝐀

— you distract him from everything. you’re always so bright and happy that whenever he’s around you he can’t help but smile and forget all his worries and stresses.

— he likes that this is your true personality, not just some act.

— definitely falls further in love when you defend him from other slayers who question his capabilities as hashira due to his lack of sight.

— AND HE WILL DEFEND YOU whenever he senses that you’re sad because of another person. he cannot stand to hear you feel upset. it’s one of the rare times he’s passively aggressive towards someone, he simply just cares for you so much.

𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐍 𝐔𝐙𝐔𝐈

— finds you interesting. and when he spots an interesting person, you best believe he’s going to investigate.

— loves talking to you about nothing in particular, whether you’re leading or he’s leading the conversation it’s bound to be a unique and enlightening chat.

— ABSOLUTELY bedazzles you with some of his flashy items so that you’re positively shining in and out.

— sometimes when he’s just down in the dumps he may find your positivity annoying and will voice it, but he always backtracks when he sees your smile go a fraction lower.

𝐆𝐈𝐘𝐔 𝐓𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐎𝐊𝐀

— this is a trope. it’s called extrovert x introvert. it’s also another trope called yapper x listener.

— you will spout out a whole paragraph or two about something and he’ll just give you a few nods to show he’s paying attention, maybe voicing his opinions once in a while with just a few words. but he’s definitely listening, after all, he loves hearing you speak.

— you go from just another person in his life to something way different, someone who recognizes him for something and doesn’t shun him like the others.

— he thinks that maybe—with you being a “look on the bright side,” kind of person—you’ll be able to see him from an angle that practically no one takes the time to see for themselves.

— he lets you hug him whenever you’re happy, but at the same time he hopes that you don’t hear his heart going a mile a second.

𝐎𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐈 𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎

— it’s funny, really; how fast his memories from way back when go to rest whenever you’re nearby, how immediate the thoughts of his scars disappear as you come into view.

— he admires your consistency to stay positive among the lifelong struggles in this job as a demon slayer.

— showed his scars to you early on after you convinced him that looks alone wouldn’t change your opinions on him. he’s so glad he did, because after some much needed pep talking he’s absolutely ecstatic. he can breathe easier around you now, taking off the bandages whenever he likes because you’re just that much of a comfort to him.

— possessive & protective, if someone’s making you sad they are DEAD MEAT. HIDE

𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐙𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐖𝐀

— fell so hard. and he didn’t even notice it! that smooth road from hating you to loving you never crossed any speed bumps that let him figure it out, it just hit him one day.

— “you can’t find positivity in everything. you’re bound to wake up to reality somewhere along this line of work.” sanemi said this to help himself so that he’d never be so hurt by your eventual sad expressions from who knows what. the only thing it succeeded in doing was convince you to prove him wrong.

— has the prettiest color on his face when he blushes at you complimenting or being enthusiastic at spending time with him, even if you’re enthusiastic at spending time with every hashira.

— it’s funny cuz he’ll just go from being so aggressive and mean towards you to just one day out of the blue being unusually gentle and kind. you bet he’ll be the first one to beat up whoever makes you cry or help you with your problems, because even if this man doesn’t see it, he is absolutely WHIPPED.

𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐎𝐊𝐔 𝐊𝐘𝐎𝐉𝐔𝐑𝐎

— he just wants to hug you every time you’re around (and he does, with your consent of course)!

— two golden retrievers running around with no leashes and no restraints. everyone should be terrified

— he’s happy that there’s someone in the corps he can really talk to for days on end about anything if he’s ever looking for positive outlooks. someone who sees his point of views and matches his overly optimistic nature.

— gets a lil jealous when you’re like this around tengen but we shall not elaborate as he’s stomped those feelings down long ago

𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐈 𝐊𝐀𝐍𝐑𝐎𝐉𝐈

— LOVES your energy SO MUCH. it makes her feel all warm and fuzzy inside when you talk and laugh around her; she feels wanted.

— your hype girl. she will absolutely cheer for you whenever you need it and she’ll squeal when you pay her back with hugs or compliments.

— she never seems to need any words or comfort from you whenever she’s sad, because every time you walk in her point of view she immediately lights up and her mood does a whole switch.

— clicked easily with you when you first got introduced, definitely love at first sight for her.

𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐁𝐔 𝐊𝐎𝐂𝐇𝐎

— she’s surprised at first at how happy you could be in this line of profession, but soon after spending some more time with you she understands. you’ve given her a new reason to be happy everyday and she cherishes her genuine happiness closely.

— she refrains from teasing you as she does with giyu, because unlike with him she can’t stand to see your smile break even a little bit.

— likes the positive role model you present to her patients, encouraging them that everything was going to be okay and uplifting all the moods of all the people you speak with in her estate.

— eventually her own smiles will mirror your unfeigned ones over time. she thanks you heavily for that.

𝐌𝐔𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐊𝐈𝐓𝐎

— aloof with you as he does with most others at first. doesn’t understand the point and why you want to spend time with him so much—why it’d bring you so much joy to be around him.

— eventually he learns to tolerate it which leads to his days feeling unusually empty without you. he subconsciously asks for more missions with you with reasons that don’t fully make sense, but they’re more believable than “i don’t want to be apart from them.”

— and then when he regains his memories and the fog from his head is lifted; he’s absolutely smiling every time you’re around. he still dazes out of conversations once in a while, but that’s only because he’s busy looking at you.

— he comes to full terms with himself and hugs you a lot (to the point where he’d been called clingy by tengen a few times). he’s so, so happy with you and hopes you never fall to the line of work that you both reside in.

overluvsick | please do not repost, translate, and/or claim my works as yours !!

[cvnt4him]

Emergency request bc I’m literally struggling so bad and feeling neglected as shit rn

ofc if you’re up to it pooks ik ur alr stressing over stuff and I don’t want to make it worse :(

Maybe some iida or monoma x reader that try’s hard to do stuff but always gets neglected? Thanks pooks 💕

I hope I got to this in enough time for you, I'm sorry for whatever you're going through n trust you're not making my situation any worse, you're actually helping me get rid of writers block so ty for this n I hope this reaches you well and is what you hoped for🫶🏽🫶🏽

mha boys x reader.

Included; izuku midoriya, kirishima ejirou, bakugou katsuki, tenya iida, monoma neito, denki kaminari.

Not in order.

Genre: angst? comfort/feel-good/fluff.

Izuku midoriya is none other than a saint. He helps everyone around him and he strives to keep his good boy/golden boy title. You admire him for that and you know others do, you also know one day he'll not only be yours but belong to the world. It gets to you but you try so hard to not let it.

When you two started dating no one knew at first, but izuku couldn't just stand by and let people not know that you were his. That he finally had a girlfriend who thought he was worthy of love. You truly felt that he deserved to be loved and he felt so seen with you, more than anyone else had ever made him feel.

Sooner or later after people found out, people began giving you such disgusting looks. Mostly girls you noticed. They would whisper about you when you were alone and look at you with mean and disgusted looks and they would laugh at you while you walked. No matter what you did you always had eyes on you. People laughing at the way you ate or spoke or dressed, it was draining.

You knew why it was happening and you tried so hard not to let it get to you. But none of that could even begin to compare to once your friends found out the two of you were dating.

You walked into the girls locker room to see all of the girls standing in a circle, you had already heard through the door they were having a conversation however you didn't exactly try to make out what they were saying. They all turned to look at you before slowly looking away to continue dressing, the silence had gotten rather too loud for your liking. They were just having a conversation before, why stop now that you were there? It bugged you the wrong way but you didn't want to make a commotion.

"so you and midoriya?"

Mina questions looking you up and down with a pointed look. She was one of your best friends, why was she looking at you like you're being investigated in a murder?

"uh.. yeah! We're dating."

You confirmed turning away to finish undressing. She hummed sucking her teeth and crossing her arms.

"you're dating him.. whilst knowing ochako liked him the whole time?"

She instigates, trying to get you to admit something. What the hell? Why would she say this? It's not your fault ochako didn't confess to izuku in enough time. It's not your fault he agreed to date you. It's not your fault he wanted everyone to know, so why was she trying to grill you like it was?

"look. I don't know what you're trying to get out of me, but--"

"just that you're a backstabbing bitch."

Silence filled the room once more as you scoffed clearly offended. She and the other girls stared at you with such disgusted and disappointed looks. You look around the room to see everyone staring at you with hatred and spite.

"are you fucking kidding me?!"

You ask around looking at all of them, there was no way they all hated you this much because you liked a boy.

"I mean.. you did kind of steal him off from under her.."

"you knew she liked him. Kind of bitchy."

"what about girl code, dude"

All the girls began saying their own opinions ganging up on you and practically eating you alive. They all shared their own fair share of mean words and side eyes before you finished getting dressed and slammed your locker shut making them all quiet down.

"fuck all of you."

You spat out while flipping them all off and leaving the room. You couldn't believe they're trying to decapitate you because ochako didn't have the balls to do what you did. Why does that make you a bad person.

The week started getting harder and harder as everyone, even some of the boys who knew ochako liked deku, started distancing themselves from you, al because of what mina would whisper in their ears, feeding them whatever she could pin in her web. And like the idiot fools they were, they believed her.

You were being neglected by your friends, all because you liked a boy. It began to be too much for you. Putting up this front for everyone who didn't even bother to see it or even your side of the story. You can't be happy with someone who has all these people liking them and making you feel shitty for also liking them. Maybe you'd have to break up with izuku.

When you came to him with this information he was furious. But not even with ochako or mine. With everything. The fact you'd been feeling shitty and didn't tell him and the fact you didn't tell him these people were bothering you. Izuku loves you more than he does himself and he isn't afraid to show that. He also loves his friends but he isn't going to let these people sit here and make you feel like shit because you're together.

He held you close that night, assuring you he wouldn't let this stand any longer. He was going to confront everyone for whatever they said to you and he wouldn't give a single shit about it. You were his and he loves you.

"I'm sorry for the way you've been feeling, love. I'm sorry that people have been treating you shitty and neglecting you because of our relationship. But you don't need any of them as long as you have me."

Tenya iida, one of the most compassionate hard working and caring people anyone has ever been graced to know. He is strong resilient and brave. He cares so much about everyone and it's so admirable. Some people see him as a wack job robot who just yells and screams or dotes too hard but to you he's perfect. An angel sent from the heavens above.

You've been working hard on something for a really long time. You hadn't told anyone about it because when you planned on it you wanted to also tell them the good news that would come with it. However that good news nevwr came. What you were doing wasn't good enough and it effectsd you deeply. Your grades fell, you started getting rather sluggish with your movements and you jardlt had the energy for anhone kr anyrhing.

Not getting the good news for what you've done was draining. It drained you to the point you wanted to break down and cry, yet nothing would come out. When people told you what you worked hard on, for so long, wasn't enough. It broke you, scarred you deeper than you could even begin to imagine. But tenya seen, he seen how you began to act, how you began to look more and more dead, how you'd began neglecting yourself. It was all too much for him to bear or watch you go through alone. He couldn't sit by and watch the love of his life perish.

Tenya held you in your dorm and let you cry on his shoulder for as long as you needed, having tissues on standby and rubbing your head gently. Placing kisses on top of your forehead and shushing you lightly as you both cuddled, he would be patient with you. He would wait until you were ready to talk or open up about what you were going through, but for now he wanted you to know you were loved and that he was proud of you.

"I love you, y/n. So much more than you could possibly fathom. I see you, and I am so incredibly proud of you. You are worthy and deserve someone who would move heaven and earth for you, I hope I am adequate enough for you."

Dating bakugou katsuki was hard. Not because he was an angry fiery shit head, but because he had such a burning passion for what he did. He never stopped striving and fighting to get what he wanted. He knew what he wanted and grasped at it and held onto it tight. It was nothing less than admirable.

The fact he could come back to you and tell you he loves you was admirable. He loved you and that meant so much to you. You loved him just as much and tried so hard to show up and be there for him. Through thick and thin, lows and highs, you wanted to be by his side regardless. He loved you for that reason alone, but he'd give you so many other reasons why he loves you.

He seen how hard you were working, how hard you were trying, how no one dared to even glance at you. He seen a faller bird that had potential and was worthy. Bakugou katsuki seen you. He wanted you and promised you he'd love you.

But for fucks sake, it always angered him to watch you get in such moods. To watch you neglect yourself and struggle with bad things. To put yourself under so much pressure and stress for no reason. When you'd cry your eyes out alone because you were tired.

He wanted to do so many things to you in that moment, but all his body could do was rush to you and hold you. He held you tightly, his fingers digging into the side of your hip. He buried his face in your neck and inhaled your sweet scent that always made him go feral.

You were his and he wouldn't dare let you sit here and feel shitty over whatever it was that was making you feel this way. He pushed and poked at every corner he could to get you to talk. Once you did he told you to shut the fuck up. You wanted to cry even more but you were sure he had reason to it.

And boy did he, he had such caring words laced with such menas things that were all wrapped in the cutest bow. He was emotionally constipated and had a hard time making people feel better. But watching him slightly struggle to find nice words to make you feel better while holding you close in his arms makes you feel so much better. Giggling at how he stammered over his words and how he tried to uphold a gentle voice to match the gentle strokes of his fingers on your side.

"look.. just. sigh. You're great okay. I love you and I'm not gonna just sit here n' let you whine n' shit for nothin'. Don't let whatever stupid shit is bothering you get t'ya. Or I'll beat yer' fuckin' ass."

Being kirishima eijirou's girlfriend was nothing other than a pure utter blessing. To be blessed with such an amazing caring and helpful boyfriend like him was genuinely a gift from the god above. He treated you like a queen who deserved to be worshipped.

It didn't take long for him to notice how hard you were struggling with things. He made sure before you got back to his dorm that it was all cozy and comfortable for you. One of the most romantic gestures he could have ever done for you. The way he had his laptop on his bed with so many plushies and comfortable pillows, and the fluffy cover he has and all the snacks you could ever imagine. He was nothing more than a blessing.

He held you tight and let you watch whatever you wanted, kirishima doesn't care about weight or anything like that, [yes I had to add this bit, bite me.] He loves training and working out with you, sure but he would never force you to do those things. He wants you to be nothing but comfortable with him and your body, so he would never shame you for how much you are or how you are in front of him. He loves you, all of you and he made sure you knew that. He kissed you and told you he loved you so many times. You fell asleep in his arms while he whispered sweet nothings in your ear.

"I love you.. I hope this could make you feel better. I will always be here for you."

Denki kaminari. Where to even begin with him. He was such a funny guy that it was hard to tell when he was joking or being serious about committing arson. He always made sure you knew that he loved you. He always hung by you and stayed by your side. He wouldn't ever tell you but he was a bit insecure. There were some things about himself he wished he could change for you, some things he wished he could do for you. He never intended to bring himself down but sometimes he thought you were this super cool goddess who was worthy of something more than a tiny little pebble like him. He felt like he was gum beneath your shoe.

Denki knew he wasn't good at a lot of things, he knew he could be dumb or even useless at times but when he seen how short you were feeling and how you would start crying because of how stressed you were he couldn't just sit by and let you feel this way.

He let you vent to him like you laid in his arms. He let you out face masks on him and let you do his hair or paint his nails or draw on him and just let your rant to him about all of your worries and woes. He wanted you to feel the way you made him feel so he tried hard to keep his mouth shut and listen. Whenever he'd notice you quieting down because you thought he was getting tired of listening he'd ask you "why'd you stop?" It'd make you feel so happy to have someone like him.

Finally after you were finished he decided to carefully pick and close his words to make himself sound just a bit smarter and more cool for you.

"hey...I'm sorry that you're going through this.. I wish there was something a bit more that I could uhm.. do? I don't want you to feel like I'm a burden but I promise you I'm here for you, if you ever want to vent like this again or just have someone to talk to, or-- or even just sit in silence with someone.. I'm here."

Neito monoma, he's quite the distinguished fellow. He always hated class 1A and he seemed to make his whole personality about just that. Or so you thought. You two getting together was not on your 2024 bingo. But he knew how to make you feel things.

He gave you butterflies by just smiling. His laugh was loud and carefree. He wasn't afraid to boast and brag about anything you did, he even did it in front of you. It was hard to feel insecure with him around. He wanted the world to know you were better than them, especially class 1A.

He would give you flowers or cute bows or just things he felt you'd like. He learned you and your every move well. He'd even practice certain conversations before the two of you have them. He felt you were rather predictable in an exciting way. A way that could never make him unlove you.

You being in a bad mood angered him, he confronted you about it and was so ready to beat someone's ass. With his words. But once you assured him why you were feeling this way his gaze softened. He grabbed you by your shoulders and pulled you into a hug. One that felt like it could last an eternity. One that you hoped would.

He sighed and just held you for a while and took it to his bed which led to a cuddle sesh. He rubbed your shoulder while you buried your face in his chest, he felt the way your breath fanned all over him and it made a shiver go down his spine.

You listen to his heartbeat and breathe in as much of him as you could, you were afraid if you didn't take all of him in right now he might disappear. Every time he kissed your forehead lightly or peppered kisses over your ear snapped you back into reality and helped you realize this was real, that he was real and was with you. That he loved you and would do anything for you.

"I love you darling and I hope you know just how much I do. I'm rather angry that you hadn't told me how you were feeling but I suppose I can let it go for now.. get some rest, my love."

AN: so I decided to make it a to character thing n don't even mind that I basically made a whole story for izukus... We all know how I feel ab him..

Also off topic and not that anyone cares but I'm thinking ab updating my masterlist yk? Js make it more aesthetically pleasing to myself. Also I wrote this all in one go, this took ab maybe two hours?????

[hiraethwrote]

ARE WE JUST FRIENDS?

pairing : osamu miya x f!reader summary : late in the evening your phone calls, and a desperate atsumu begs you to come pick up his brother who is not only drunk, but in an extremely bad mood — which results in your best friend behaving uncharacteristically mean cw : best friends to lovers, timeskip, ooc osamu (not sure, i struggle writing him), angsty, hurt to comfort, profanity, intoxication, subtle pining, some miscommunication, jealousy, no use of y/n word count : 2.5k

author's note : for my beautiful ave (@hiraethwa) as a part of @lale-txt's amazing hq secret santa event. ik i've taken my sweet time, and i hope the wait was worth it. due to a lil writing slump, and in general being intimidated by writing for hq, it ended up very different from what i initially planned, but i still hope you enjoy it <3 mwah

“What are you doing here?”

You drew a sharp breath, the venom in his voice catching you off guard.

“Atsumu called me,” you sighed, wrapping your arms tighter around your body. You tried to convince yourself it was to shield yourself from the December cold, but you knew it was more in order to bring yourself a sense of comfort — Osamu’s hostile tone stung more than expected.

He scoffed instantly as his brother’s name left your lips, head turning away as you saw him aggressively roll his eyes.

“Of course he did,” he mumbled.

His complaint was loaded with unspoken feelings. All the years you had known him had thought you that much — your usual sweet and mellow best friend had a tendency to become passive aggressive whenever something really bothered him.

“Don’t be like that. Come on, get up.” Part of you wanted to retaliate with a just as snappy remark, but it would only cause you more problems in getting him to come with you, something you suspected was already laid out to be a difficult task.

When he didn’t do as you told him, you stepped closer, begrudgingly offering him your hand to help pull him to his feet. He only stared at it — an ugly glare usually reserved for his brother.

“Osamu,” you groaned in frustration, “it’s fucking freezing, won’t you please just get up!” Again he just huffed. “Stop acting like a child,” shaking your hand, hoping he would eventually accept the gesture.

Finally he turned to look at you, his eyes digging deep into you as there was a tight crease between his eyebrows — it made your stomach turn. He never looked at you like this. If you didn’t know any better, you would describe it as pure disgust, that he couldn’t imagine a worse place to be than in your presence.

It was tempting to turn on your heel and let him sulk in his lonesome, where he sat on the frosty grass outside the annual Christmas party his team put together, one he had hinted at for weeks he never even wanted to attend. But you remained persistent, mirroring his mean frown and challenging his glare.

Another scoff slipped out of him. Then he weakly swatted your hand away and got on his feet without your help. Once he stood straight, you noticed how his towering frame swayed ever so slightly from the alcohol still running through his body.

“What?” He spat, still maintaining the ugly eye contact that felt like an insult.

The kindness that usually wallowed in his eyes seemed to have gone dormant. And despite his cruel and uncharacteristic edge, you couldn’t help but to admire how pretty he was. The light snow falling slowly around you, landing in his hair before melting into little droplets of water.

Clenching your jaw, you took a deep breath through your nose to bite back whatever rested on your mind, trying to tell yourself he was only acting this way because he was drunk.

“Nothing.”

With high shoulders, both caused by the cold and the uncomfortable tension, you turned and headed over to your car and opening the passenger door to hold it open for him. But when you turned to look up, Osamu was stood in the exact same position, sporting the same grumpy expression.

Your head fell back with another loud groan. “Osamu, I’m not doing this with you tonight, just get in the car.”

“I don’t feel like going with you,” stuffing his hands in his jean pockets as his shoulders raised, trying to conceal how the cold was starting to make his body tremble.

“Too damn bad, now get in the car,” you said sternly as you contested his mean stare.

You wondered what the hell could have happened for you to earn this treatment from him. Yesterday everything seemed fine, hanging out the whole group where everything had been so pleasant — perfect even, if you dared be that honest.

The unspoken thing between you had continued to grow stronger, slowly but surely breaking out from the restraints of ‘just friends’. Your gazes lingered longer than what would be considered normal. More often than not, your arm would shyly be pressed against his the entire time you were hanging out — yesterday was no different.

And when it was time for you to take your leave, his arms had wrapped around your shoulders in a comforting hug that had resulted in your head resting on his chest. Your feelings had gotten the best of you, and you had let your eyes slowly glide shut and bask in his embrace for a moment longer than you knew you should have — then you didn’t hear anything from him until Atsumu had called and begged you to come pick him up.

“Please come and get him. He’s really drunk and should be in bed,” Atsumu’s voice was laced with concern before it twisted into irritation. “He’s also just in a fucking pissy mood.”

It hadn’t been a question whether you should do it or not — you would always be there for Osamu.

You just hadn’t expected to be met with such hostility from the person you were walking such a fine line with, especially when it came so out of the blue.

“Atsumu really wasn’t kidding when he said you were pissy,” you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“Funny how you two keep talking about me,” he said, kicking an illusionary rock making him appear even more like a bratty child.

“Yeah, told me your own team don’t even want you at the party no more because you’re a buzzkill.”

An aggressive scoff shot past his teeth. “Some friend you are, talking crap behind my back with my own brother.”

“Sure, whatever, you can tell me how bad of a friend I am on the way home. I won’t say it again, get. In. The. Car.”

There was a betrayal on his expression, a flinch in his frown, telling you your crass tone was having a bigger impact on him than he was letting on.

Though he hesitated, his feet eventually carried him unsteadily towards you. Without sparing you a single glance, he crouched in front of you to enter the car. And just as all four of his limbs were inside the vehicle, your anger had you slam the door with a lot more power than intended before scurrying into the driver seat.

“Put your seatbelt on,” you demanded, watching as his body had let go of the shivering as the heat inside the car enveloped him — but there was no change in his mood.

The car ride back to his apartment was spent with zero words exchanged. The only thing heard was the gushing sound of the heat you were blazing throughout the car, and the low tunes of your calm music, which was actually doing wonders for you to steady your emotions a little.

You pulled into his driveway, silence swallowing the car as you shut off the engine. You turned to look at him, bracing yourself to meet a stubborn child you probably had to fight in order to get out of the car — instead, he was half asleep, eyelids heavy as sleep was looming right around the corner. A deep sigh slipped out of you at the peaceful sight of your best friend.

Slowly you reached out, placing your hand on his shoulder to carefully shake him awake, “Osamu, we’re here,” you whispered, only for all your irritation to return in an instant as he jerked out of your gentle touch, frown creasing his features again.

He responded with a low “hmpf,” before unbuckling his belt and exiting the car, yet again never having the decency to look at you.

He’s drunk, he’s drunk, he’s drunk, you tried to tell yourself in order for you to be able to treat him with some grace. Alcohol could be the devil, turning the most gentle of people into pests — as seen right before your eyes. What kind of friend would you be if you couldn’t show him some mercy by excusing one bad night.

“Careful,” you sighed, rushing over to him to firmly place your hands on each side of his waist as he was about to tip over, “I got you.”

“I don’t need you to have me,” he nearly growled as he reached in his pocket for his keys — but he never jerked out of your grip, letting your hands remain at his side as substitute.

“Here, let me,” you tried to interject when he fumbled with unlocking the door for a second longer than your patience could endure. Of course he was unable to willingly hand you the keys, but at least he didn’t put up much of a fight when you twisted it out of his long fingers.

With one hand still resting on the small of his back, you unlocked the door. With gentle pressure, you ushered him forwards, desperate to get the nuisance that was your best friend to bed.

“You can go home now,” he slurred the second he set foot inside his apartment.

“Not leaving just yet,” you whispered, remaining close behind him, guiding him to his bedroom.

He grunted and grumbled disapprovingly, and you might even have heard a suppressed ‘so annoying’ under his breath. You bit your tongue again, just hoping he would pass out once he was safely in bed — maybe come tomorrow, he could even give you an apology.

“Now you can leave,” finally stumbling out of your light grip, spinning around to serve you yet another one of his frowns.

“I’ll get you some water first-“

“No. I want you to leave.”

“Let me take care of you first, okay?”

“No, please just go home.” There was a sadness in his voice now. And maybe it was the lighting playing tricks on you, but you swore you spotted a shine gloss over his eyes.

Your shoulders slumped, unable to give your anger room to grow when he was so evidently upset.

“Osamu,” you breathed, daring to take a step closer. “What’s going on?” Carefully you grabbed ahold of his arms and guided him to the edge of his bed. He wasn’t accepting your gestures entirely, scooting further away when you sat down beside him.

“Nothing. Just don’t want you here.”

“Did something happen tonight?”

“No, nothing happened so you can leave!” It seemed like he tried to find back to the bite that had been in his tone when you first picked him up, but the sudden shift in his mood had taken control of him instead.

You didn’t think twice about reaching out, placing a comforting hand on his back — only for him to shrug it off.

“Atsumu said you’d been-“

A visceral groan interrupted you. “It’s always Atsumu, isn’t it?” He turned to look at you, sad eyes locking with yours and now you could definitely spot the faint gloss of tears.

“What?” You breathed in confusion, eyebrows narrowing instinctively.

“All night!” He said, almost more to himself than to you.

“You’re going to have to elaborate.”

“All night, he was on his damn phone, and suddenly he has called you.”

You couldn’t help yourself, placing your hand in his back again to bring him comfort, but you wasn’t sure it was to any help. “Yes, so I could come pick you up.”

Another petty scoff, tainted with poorly hidden sorrow, escaped him. “Why don’t you just go? I’m sure he would love to hang out with you.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” you spoke softly, eyes studying his profile as his gaze was locked on his lap.

“I told you to leave!”

“Osamu,” you said sternly, fingers gripping his chin to force his focus back on you. “I said I’m not going anywhere!”

His eyes kept betraying him — his lips carried a frown and that crease between his eyebrows appeared to have grown stuck on his forehead.

But his eyes just looked so sad, as if somehow there was a lot of pent up feelings that had suddenly decided to spring to the surface and trap him in a spiral.

“It’s me,” you whispered, attention flittering between his eyes, hoping the tenderness you conveyed would convince him to reveal himself to you.

“That’s the problem.”

This was the first time you could remember being nervous around him, bordering on scared. You knew what you hoped he was getting at, but you were too afraid to let yourself be entertained by the pleasant fantasy.

It was so much safer to live in the naivety, thinking you were just more affectionate than other best friends. Entertaining a lovesick dream of being anything more was simply too risky, only seeing a scenario where you ended up hurt.

However, the look he gave you sprinkled just the tiniest bit of reality to your fantasy.

“Do you like him?” the innocent question tumbling out on accident, googly eyes staring at you before his shoulders bounced with a quiet hiccup.

“Like who?”

“You know who,” he whined, eyes pleading for you not to make him say it.

“Atsumu?” He nodded weakly, gulping down the nervous lump in his throat. “I mean, sure.”

“But do you like like him?” He caused heat to flush your face by his adolescent question.

“We’re just friends.”

“Are we just friends too?”

For some reason, his bold statement had the tension in your body evaporate, shoulders slumping before you moved your hand to cup his face, certain you heard the softest hum leave him as your hand caressed him.

“No, we’re not.”

And then he melted into your touch, finally letting his sweet smile paint his lips instead of that damn frown.

“You know we’re not,” you whispered.

“I know,” he whispered just as low, “but I needed to hear you say it.”

“But Osamu?” Your voice was soft as velvet, watching how his eyelids had become heavy again.

“Hm?”

“You’re still really drunk,” you chuckled weakly.

“Don’t worry,” he yawned, “I’ve liked you for years, so I’ll still remember tomorrow.”

You had no choice but take his word for it, hoping he would in fact remember the small confession exchange that had taken place. At least you had the ability to bask in some relief, feeling as if tons had been lifted from your shoulders.

With no sudden movements, your hand left his face before carefully getting on your feet. His breaths had slowly turned deeper and slower, a clear indication sleep were to consume him sooner rather than later, gracefully leading him to lay down on the bed.

You pulled his covers over him, smiling to yourself at the peaceful sight and thankful the night had managed to take a turn for the better.

Just as you were about to head out of his bedroom, his soft voice spoke your name.

“Yeah?”

“Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Osamu. I’ll see you tomorrow.” And right before you closed the door, you saw the sweetest smile stretch across his face once again.

an : also wanna thank the lovely lale for putting this whole thing together, and introducing me to this amazing group of people <3 comments and reblogs is much appreciated

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

[arminsumi]

HII! I love your work so much!! I’m giving in and requesting bc ik you’ll kill it!! But could I get a gojo fic w rocky road + whipped cream and a side of fruit 🫣 possibly virgin gojo!

cws; smut, virginty loss (Gojo), sum overstim, multi. creampies, he is a cutiepie 🫶

Virgin!Gojo who touches you like he hardly deserves it, who traces his fingers over the soft mounds of your breasts and looks at them — mouth agape — with eyes full of awe and love. He gets to touch all this? All the dips and curves and little valleys that make up your body, he gets to explore all of them while being one with you? Oh my god, he thought he'd already developed quite the sucker crush but now he's falling even more deeply in love with you.

His breath shuddery and mind unstable, virgin!Satoru plows into you with a desperation that's adorably funny. If only you knew that he'd been practicing with his pillow in anticipation of giving you his virginity, but none of that practice has really paid off because once he's felt your slick gummy walls sucking his sensitive cock in, he's reduced back to total amateur status. Oh, but it was endearing, really; watching his pupils dilate just like the first time you gave him a kiss on the cheek at the train station. He's a romantic boy, remembering all the moments that made him fall in love while thrusting slowly and carefully, trying to savor every tiny feeling shooting through his cock.

"I'm gonna — ah, ah, ah!" he feathers in a high pitch as he cums, too pussydrunk to pull out and now he's painting your walls white with a gooey fat load that he's frustratedly held back from shooting for well over an hour now.

You don't even have a complaint, you just leg-lock his waist and pull him deeper into your pussy and rub frantically at your clit, getting off to the sensation of being creampied by virgin!Satoru's pink, juicy cock. And the poor boy yelps when he feels you cum on his cock; the feeling sends shocks thru his sensitive cock and he hastily pulls out and starts shaking, muttering a "F-f-fuck!" under his breath.

"I love you." he pants while basking in his afterglow, head resting in-between your breasts with this tender look of bliss plastered on his face. He comes in for a lovey-dovey kiss, grazing your lips when he pulls away — then going in for seconds and thirds while muttering the sweetest things that he can only say while in the plush comforts of a pillow.

There's a cute silence shared between the two of you, but it's not long before his cock is poking politely against your pussy again, asking for — "R-round two? Please? Ah, um, and can you ride me this time?"

Aaand just like that, virgin!Satoru is whining underneath you, watching your hips and breasts bounce with this totally adoring look on his face, feeling your insides with more clarity than the first round. "You're so pretty." he admires, choked by a moan, "Can I jus' stay inside you forever? Please? We c-could jus' fuck all day, every day."

Poor virgin!Satoru begins babbling after spilling another load in you, his cock crying from overstimulation but he's stubbornly horny.

After you've milked him for all he's worth and cherished kisses from his lips and giggled in the bathtub with him, he gives you big pleading eyes and asks if you can cockwarm him through the night, "Because it's winter... I don't want my little guy to get cold."