#jjk ficlet

[jjksugurugeto]

Satoru Pays Attention This Time

Satosugu, Fix-It

What if Satoru was there for all the moments when Suguru needed him most?

----

Suguru is sitting with Haibara in the hall in front of the vending machines when she walks in. 

“Hey! You with the hair… Are you Geto? I was wondering what kind of women you go for?” She struck a pose. 

Suddenly, Suguru was even more tired than he had been before. He could just tell just by looking at her that this conversation would end up being really draining. 

“Who are you?” He said, instead of answering the woman directly. 

“I like the type of girls that eat a lot.” Haibara said, with his typical uncensored enthusiasm. 

“Oh?” She said, with minimal interest.  

“Haibara.” Suguru could only manage, at his junior’s naive audacity. It made him feel that much older and ten times more exhausted.

“Don’t worry about her, Geto. She’s not a bad person. I can tell, I’m a great judge of character.” Haibara said, confidently. 

“I always kind of thought you were stupid, Haibara...” Everyone looked around as Satoru walked up to the group. “...but now it’s confirmed.” Satoru grinned, looking right at Suguru. 

They hadn't seen each other in a while. All the curses rattling around inside Suguru, in his gut, making him nauseous, keeping him up at night, seemed to settle down as he and Satoru made eye-contact.  

“Satoru.” Suguru said, just to say his name, “You’re being rude.” 

Satoru walked right past the strange woman and sat between Suguru and Haibara on the bench, spreading his legs annoyingly wide so that his knee pressed against Suguru’s. He put his arm around Suguru on the bench top behind him. 

More wild and cruel things settled in Suguru’s chest. 

“That’s okay, Geto. Gojo’s not a bad person either, y’know?” Haibara said, enthusiastic smile still firmly on his face. 

Poor, sweet, Haibara. A child born of summer and watching too much Power Rangers. Suguru bit back the impulse to shake his head pityingly and simply say “Haibara” again. 

He and Satoru exchanged a look. 

Suguru bumped his own knee against Satoru’s.

Be nice. 

Satoru grinned at him smug like a well-fed cat. 

“Well, I guess I’m out of here!” Haibara said, jumping up suddenly. “I’ve got to go meet up with Kento for our next mission. Don’t want to be late!” 

Before anyone could get out so much as a, “goodbye,” he was around the corner and out of sight. “He’s annoying.” Satoru said, but his smile was kind, “And so much energy. How does he do it? Hey, Suguru, were we that annoying when we were his age?” He leaned into him as he said it, pushing his face close to Suguru’s, like he was trying to monopolize his view. 

For a moment, Suguru was lost in thought. They had been that boyish at one time. What a difference a year could make.

“So,” the woman cut in, “Do you plan on answering my original question?” She said, smiling directly at Suguru. 

“What question?” Satoru asked, butting in. 

“Not until you answer my question first.” Suguru said.

“Suguruuuu what question?” Satoru said, poking Suguru’s arm, and then his cheek when Suguru ignored him. 

“Who are you?” He asked her, continuing to ignore Satoru as he started a barrage of pokes, with both hands now. 

“Don’t ignore me, Suguruuuu.”  

“Special Grade Sorcerer Yuki Tsukumo.” She said, striking another pose. “Does that name ring any bells?” 

“Suguruuu. Suguru. Suguru. Su-gu-ru.” 

Poke. Poke. Pokepokepokepokepoke. 

“Wait, so you’re her?” Suguru said.

That got Satoru’s attention. 

“Oh, I like the sound of that.” She said, beaming. “What have you heard?” She purred. 

Satoru had finally stopped poking Suguru and was staring at the side of his face instead as if he too was waiting, rapt, for Suguru’s answer. His stupid laser-beam eyes burning a hole in his cheek.  

“That you’re a special grade who never accepts any missions.” Suguru said, bluntly.

“Yea,” Satoru cut in, with relish, turning his stare on Tsukumo, “A real good-for-nothing. Who I heard has been wasting her time abroad.” He said, smiling his most angelic smile at her. 

Suguru couldn’t understand why he seemed to dislike her so much. Maybe they had history Suguru didn’t know about? 

“Man. I really hate Jujutsu High School.” She said, slumping suddenly. Clearly pouting. 

Suguru and Satoru exchanged another look. 

“I’m joking. Though it is true that I don’t get along with Jujutsu High’s policies.” She said, coming out of her slouch. Her tone suddenly more serious. 

That caught Suguru’s attention. 

“All they’re interested in is treating the symptoms of a problem.” She continued. “And I want to do something to treat the cause.”  

“You… want to treat the cause?” Suguru asked. 

Satoru was looking back and forth between Suguru and Tsukumo now. Probably annoyed they weren’t paying any attention to him. 

“Right. Except rather than hunting cursed spirits, I want to create a world where they don’t get born in the first place.” 

“I love cutting off my own nose to spite my face.” Satoru said, turning to Tsukumo with a smile fixed in its dulcet acidity. “Except I would never do that, because I’m not stupid, and also because I have a perfect nose. Don’t I, Suguru?” He turned again and started pushing his way into Suguru’s line of vision again, trying to get him to make eye contact, but Suguru wasn’t really paying attention. 

He leaned forward. Yuki Tsukumo had his full attention now. 

“Would you care to learn a little lesson?” She said, quirking her eyebrow like a challenge, once again looking directly at Suguru.

“Uhg. Boooooring.” Satoru said, drawing out the word obnoxiously. 

“Hush.” Suguru said, cupping one hand behind Satoru’s neck and the other over his mouth. 

Satoru licked his hand. 

“Satoru, that’s disgusting. He said, mildly, “Where are your manners in front of our guest?” Then pushed his hand harder into Satoru’s face, attempting to smother him.

Satoru flailed accordingly.

A brief scuffle ensued. 

“I can see you’re busy.” Tsukumo actually seemed a little irritated now. She didn’t have the same tolerance for the Satoru Gojo Effect as most people on campus. You had to build it up slowly. Like resistance to poison. “Maybe we can talk more about my research some other time, Geto?” 

“Like that’s going to happen.” Satoru said, finally managing to pull Suguru’s hand away from his mouth. 

A shame. His face had been turning the most lovely shade of purple, Suguru thought. 

He turned back to Tsukumo then, not really feeling apologetic for their behavior at all. 

“Yes. I’d like that.” He managed, giving her a charming smile. 

Satoru made a noise like cats fighting. 

“Maybe next time we can discuss things more privately.” Suguru could see Satoru’s hackles raising, inexplicably, from the corner of his eye. “And hey, maybe next time you’ll tell me what kind of women you go for.” She said, as she walked away, with a wink over her shoulder in Suguru’s direction. She did not, Suguru noticed, say “goodbye” to Satoru. 

“Blehhh.” Satoru stuck his tongue out and pulled the skin on his cheeks to make a ghoulish face at her back as she too disappeared around the same corner Haibara had earlier.

“Jeez, what a weirdo.” Satoru said casually, like he hadn't acted like a feral cat the entire time they had been talking. He leaned back, crossing his leg over his knee and placing his arm back on the bench behind Suguru's back.

It would be weird if Suguru leaned into it a little, right? He did it anyway.

They both sat there, not looking at each other, staring down the hallway instead.

“Did you know her?” Suguru asked. He was genuinely curious. 

“Never met her in my life. In fact, I still haven't met her. I refuse to have met her. Who are we talking about again?" Satoru said, in a rush.

Suguru pressed his fingers into the space between his eyes, which was sometimes the only correct response to anything Satoru said or did. 

Also, he was still extremely exhausted. 

"Besides,” Satoru said, finally becoming a little more serious, “you know what she was talking about, right? Genocide.” 

Suguru froze.

There it was, really. Laid out plainly in the space between them.

“C’mon. Have you had dinner yet? I’ll take you out to eat and point out all the many many reasons why Yuki Tsukumo is wrong. And why I’m always right.” Satoru said. 

Treating it like a game, a philosophical argument. Not like Tsukumo and by extension, Suguru, was entertaining mass genocide as any kind of viable solution.

Which, Suguru wasn’t, not really….

[thee-horny-thicky]

YES YANDERE YUTA PLEASE

Yuta didn't mean to start stalking you. Really, it was a complete accident. His crush on you–a kind upperclassmen–had turned into an obsession he couldn't shake. Friendly glances turned into longing stares. A bypassing thought turned into incessant fantasies. Regular concern for your safety turned into worrying when you weren't in his sights. Wondering if you were single turned into murderous jealousy at the thought of someone else having you.

So much so, that discovering your crush on Gojo-Sensei had him annoyed with the strongest sorcerer for weeks.

Yuta couldn't help but want you. Really, it was your fault he'd become so obsessed. You'd been a sweetheart to him when he'd first arrived at Jujutsu Tech, encouraging him every step of the way, offering to train him when you had time. He shouldn't have taken it personally, because you were eager to help all of your underclassmen. You wanted them to reach their fullest potential, and more importantly, stay safe. Your mentorship and fretting sparked pesky feelings in Yuta, feelings he thought would only be reserved for Rika.

Plus, your pretty smiles, soft body, lively eyes…all of it made you into the total package.

You'd proven his notion wrong, making him feel like an elementary student dealing with his first crush. He desperately wanted you, and Yuta would employ any means necessary to have you in his clutches. After all, he was the strongest now, second to none.

And maybe, his new body would make you more partial to his love.

[lilacxquartz]

pregnancy woes;

toji fushiguro x pregnant!reader

summary: lil drabble post, i might do more pregnant reader x jjk in the future but i got a request for a milf reader x any, so here we go! requested by @lolitamermaid123 — i hope this was what you were looking for🩵

tags/themes: pregnant reader, very in love toji, praise, validation, suggestive undertones, massage — w.c: ~700

ao3 • masterlist • more drabbles

Nothing prepared you for how lovesick Toji would be when you were carrying his second child. The guy had always been sarcastic, maybe even arrogant, but never before had he been this obsessed with you. From the moment your stomach started showing visible signs of growth; he simply couldn’t keep his hands off of you.

Despite this, you didn’t quite feel the same. You didn’t deny that the miracle of life or what have you was a beautiful prospect, yes, but it was also exhausting on your body. You were not only constantly in a state of simmering fatigue, but you were once again feeling all sorts of puffy and achy with very little that could be done to alleviate the symptoms.

Yet, Toji didn’t quite see it that way. Or maybe he saw it differently. To him, you were the living embodiment of what could have been perfection in his eyes.

Every morning, without fail, he would roll over to his side and wrap his strong arms right around you and pull you in as close as he possibly could. He would bury his face right into the crook of your neck with his large hands palming over the swell of your stomach while acting surprisingly sweet—given who he was and what he did for a living.

“Good morning,” he murmured, his breath hot against the exposed area of your flesh. His voice was lower than usual and thick with sleep.

You mumbled something out in response, although it was barely coherent. You tried to shift away slightly because as it turned out, you didn’t quite feel as hot as you usually did and his touch would only feed your insecurities even further.

“Oh no you don’t,” he teased as he pulled you closer, not quite letting you get away. He could see right past you and you were being harsh on yourself—like usual—and for no good reason.

“Toji, please…” you sighed into a weary groan, appreciating his effort but feeling groggy from all of the exhaustion. “I feel so bloated and big… you wouldn’t get it…”

Toji however simply rolled his eyes. “There you go again, talking down on yourself like that. You have no idea how sexy you look to me right now and it hurts.”

You tried to stretch the remainder of the sleep away to little avail, leaning your head back against him as you finally gave into his hold. “Yeah, well it’s hard to feel sexy right now.”

He shrugged as he didn’t back down, digging his lips even further into your skin while planting lazy kisses along your neck and shoulder. His voice was laced with want and need the more he pressed himself right against you, unable to quite let you go, if at all, “You’re not seeing my vision then, huh? You don’t get it. You look so hot, so incredible like this…”

Finally, you managed to thaw into a slight smile as his words were finally starting to get to you. Even if you didn’t quite believe him fully, Toji had a knack for making you feel like you were the only thing that mattered in the entire world. His attention to you was dedicated and you were his only focus.

“Would be better if I wasn’t so achy though,” you slightly whined while attempting to straighten out your back.

He hummed at your statement, seemingly forming an idea in his mind. “How about a massage then? Give me an excuse to keep my hands on you.”

“That could be nice…” you admitted.

“Yeah,” Toji murmured, repositioning you gently so that you laid against his lap with your back in between his legs. You could tell that he was very excited to this, given what else you felt. “I’ll knock those knots clean out of you, babe. You won’t even know what tension is.”

“I’ll hold you to that one,” you replied, feeling already relieved from just how well his hands could work into your shoulders, kneading and squeezing in all of the right places.

In turn, he leaned down to press a kiss on top of your head as he slowly felt you come undone and relax in his company. “Trust me,” he added, “I'll do anything to help you feel good, you’re doing all the hard work after all in getting our next kid here. So leave it to me to take care of you.”

[loveandpeaceanddoughnuts]

Gojo Satoru couldn’t stand you. He couldn’t bear the faint smell of your shampoo in the stairwell you’d just left, the sound of your laughter disappearing around the corner.

He’d started excusing himself from staff meetings at school, much to the fury of the higher-ups. But he quite literally couldn’t be in the same room with you. Not after what he’d done.

The strongest sorcerer started letting his Infinity slip, hoping you’d brush against him in the hallway just so he could feel you again.

He got sloppy on missions, ending up on Shoko’s operating table more and more often. The last time, forced back into consciousness by her technique and a lungful of secondhand smoke, she had called him on it.

“Are you trying to get yourself killed, Satoru? You think that’s going to bring them back?” He took so long to answer that she started to worry he’d passed back out.

“I know it won’t.” His ocean-blue eyes were an abyss. “But then it wouldn’t hurt anymore.”

Gojo knew he hardly had the right to say it. You had only had one request of him when you got together, one thing that worried you about getting involved with him and his reputation. And he had blown it all up.

It didn’t matter that it was his first love, his high-school ex that he never really got over. It didn’t even matter that he had a good excuse when it came down to it. You had caught Gojo with his tongue down someone else’s throat, and ended it on the spot.

So he dragged himself and his self-pity around campus, half-heartedly instructing the first years when he wasn’t busy volunteering for suicide missions.

You kept your broken heart well-hidden, quietly requesting a transfer to Kyoto at the end of this semester. You looked right through him when you couldn’t avoid him entirely, and found empty bathroom stalls to cry in afterward.

+++++++++++++++++

You had carefully planned your escape, steadily sending your belongings on to the Kyoto school and distancing yourself from the administration of the Tokyo campus for the past few weeks. Now moving day was here, a one-way ticket clutched in your hand. It felt both impossible and inevitable.

No one was there to see you off, as requested. Your closest friends would come visit and everyone else didn’t care much either way.

Except for the person you were running from.

You felt him before you saw him, his Six Eyes boring into you from across the station. His snow-white hair was scruffy, sticking up like he’d been pulling at it. Dark sunglasses hid his shadowed eyes.

“Gojo? What the fuck are you doing here?” You knew he could hear your harsh whisper from where he stood.

“Gojo, huh? Ouch.” He crossed the room in a blink, pushing up his glasses to show off an exaggerated wince, one eye scrunched shut. “That hurts.”

“Good. You should know how it feels. Now if you don’t mind, I have a train to catch.” You tried to step around him, but he easily mirrored you.

“It doesn’t leave for another ten minutes. Can we talk?”

“Talk? Talk about what, asshole? How your ex tasted?” A pointless shove against his broad chest.

Gojo caught your wrists in one hand. “Please.”

You made the mistake of eye contact, taking a half-step closer, and your heart broke open all over again. He was so beautiful, so desperate, his vulnerability a halo. The wound you had tried to cauterize with space and silence flared back to agonizing life.

He sensed your hesitation- he knew all your weaknesses- and used the opportunity to pull you into his arms. “I’m so sorry. So, so sorry, you have no idea…” murmured apologies into your hair.

“Fuck you,” you said to his chest.

“I know, baby.” A shaky laugh. “I know.”

Against all your instincts, the longing to melt into his embrace, you stepped back. “Satoru…” you did your best to ignore the hope in his face when you used that name. “You can’t expect me to forget what you’ve done.”

“I don’t! I swear. Just please, don’t run away from this. From us. I can’t lose you.” He still held your wrists, your pulses knocking against each other.

“You already did.”

He lets go, off balance, like you’d punched him in the gut. Your train doors are opening and you’re turning away, not before you catch the shine of tears in his blue, blue eyes.

You’re sorry too, so goddamn sorry, but you’re stepping off the platform and there’s nothing left to say, even if you had the time to say it.

The doors close indifferently, your world cleaved in two. Before and after, inside and out. You turn back, watching him shrink into nothing as you pull out of the station. He watches you disappear for much, much longer.

[alieinthemorning]

Strawberry Mint Lemonade [Getou Suguru | Gojo Satoru]

Content: Meet-Cute, Indirect Kiss, Gojo Satoru Being Gojo Satoru, Getou Suguru Being Getou Suguru, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Kisses, Café AU, No Curses, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Crying, Unrequited Love, Not Actually Unrequited Love, POV Second Person, Suggestive Themes

Pronouns: None

Note: THIS IS MY 200TH WORK ON AO3 AAAAAAAAAA (Also UTC because it's 2500+ words)

Header: @/nikki101pistar on Twitter

Reblogs: Let me know that you enjoy my work and want to see more, so don’t forget to like and reblog (and comment in the tags. I love seeing people’s rambles in the tags)!

This work’s concepts, plot and original characters are my own which means I do not allow any sort of creative theft nor do I allow my work to be entered into any sort of A.I. bots. Thank you for respecting my space and boundaries.

Your favorite drink was a simple strawberry mint lemonade. Not too sweet, not too sour. It was made the same way every single time which made sense since you'd had been coming to this hole-in-the-wall café for about three years now. Every employee, new and old knew your name and order, so when the familiar drink was placed in the completed section on the counter, you didn't look twice at it and immediately took a sip.  

"What the fuck is this shit?" It was as if your straw was made of sugarcane, the strawberry and lemon pieces were formed from sugar cubes and the liquid itself was pure syrup.    

"Ew...what is this?" Someone from beside you, whined.  

Looking over, you found an incredibly tall man with stark white hair and—oh, you couldn't see his eye color behind the dark, round shades. You were about to turn around and talk to an employee about this...horror from hell, but your eyes drifted to the drink in his large hand.  

You eyed your own drink, frowning at the name written on the side.

Satoru

You looked at the man again. "Are you Satoru?"

He nodded, then said your name. "I'm assuming that's you?"

You sighed, shoving his drink toward him. "Thank god—hand me my drink. I can't drink pure sugar."

"Awww, come on! It isn't that bad! " He pouted as he switched drinks.

You took a long swig of yours before you replied. "It was like drinking the three states of matter. Solid, Liquid and Gaseous Sugar."

"How would it even be gaseous?"

"The air from the straw."

He laughed loudly, startling  the other customers.

You flushed, grabbing him by the elbow. "Come on, let's sit and talk."

The Goliath of a man let you drag him to a secluded corner, where the two of you talked each other's ears off. However, despite ordering another drink of your own, you noticed that he still hadn't touched his own.  

"You gonna let the ice water down the sugar?" You grinned, "Was I right about it tasting like shit?"

He balked at you. "No way!"

You nodded toward the drink, "Then drink it."

He looked at you, the drink, you again then finally swiped the drink off the table, guzzling it down in mere seconds.

"There! Are you satisfied?" His head was swiveled to the side, tucked into that weird high collared jacket of his, but you swore the tips of his ears were flushed red.

"How are you alive?" You asked in slight awe.

That got him to look at you again, all smiles too. "Must be my impeccable genes."  

You raised a brow. "You a citizen of the Candy Kingdom or something? Built like Candy Wife?"  

He just smiled at you. "I have no idea about what you're talking about."

The two of you chatted for longer than expect, leaving just an hour before closing.  

"Maybe I'll see you around?"

"Maybe so."

And he did, the two of you ending up seeing each other at least once a week for a few months. And of course, you learned a lot about Satoru during that time.  

You learned that he had a very unhealthy obsession with sweets. That, despite the goofy look that he basically always had plastered on his face, he was quite intelligent. Oh, and that he had really bright blue eyes (like limpid tears) and the reason why he wore shades was because his eyes were really sensitive and without them, he was prone to awful migraines.  

You also were beginning to develop a bit of a crush on him, but you were sure someone has beautiful as him had to already be taken. So, you decided to stuff the feelings in the deepest part of your heart.

And today you learned—

That he was bringing someone else with him today.  

The person Satoru brought with him was a stark contrast to him (except in clothing—they both wore dark-colored clothing). He was maybe only a few inches shorter than him with long dark hair that was in an up-down style with a bit of hair draping the left side of his face. You watched that as Satoru pointed at you, the man's eyes slid to you and his lips turned upward. Then Satoru headed toward the counter while the man made his way to you.  

He called your name and you raised a brow.

He chuckled. "Satoru told me your name." He slid into the seat across from you, "My name is Suguru. It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

You leaned back in your chair, a bit uncomfortable with his familiarity with you. "Oh? Has Satoru talked about me that much."  

Suguru leaned in closer, placing his elbows on the table and resting his chin on his intertwined finger. "Oh, you have no idea."  

Before you could question him further on the subject, Satoru placed their drinks on the table, alongside a few sweets.  

"Seems like the two of you are getting along." He said with a hum as he pulled a chair over to complete your little group.

"Yeah, sure—Satoru, what exactly have you been telling Suguru here about me?"

His brows shot up to his hairline as his head swiveled to Suguru.  "What did you say?"

Suguru just smiled. "I haven't said too much." The unspoken yet at the end of that sentence was very loud.  

You sighed, nudging Satoru's foot. "So, you gonna properly introduce me or am I supposed to keep thinking of your friend here as a creep?"

"Oh, uh, yeah," He placed a hand on top of Suguru's, "This is my boyfriend, Suguru. We've been together for a few years now, and been best friends for longer."  

Your heart dropped into your stomach, and you felt your lips dip downward. You quickly covered your mouth with your hand, raising a brow. "Oh? We've been talking for so long, and you just now tell me about your significant other? I thought we were closer than that, Satoru."  

You knew you didn't play that off well, you knew that Satoru knew that what he had said hurt you.

And Suguru?  

Suguru just smiled.

Despite the rocky first meeting and sudden revelation, you, Satoru and Suguru continued meeting (after you had bullied Satoru into inviting Suguru again).  

Slowly yet surely, you learned more about Suguru and their relationship. Suguru was the one who did the majority of the cooking (while Satoru baked to quell his late night sweet cravings). He was really sweet and caring despite the shit eating grin that was etched on his face. He also was a pretty big flirt.

Which...was very unsettling to you. Since it seemed like he was very open to doing it in front of Satoru, who didn't seem bothered by it in the slightest.  

"You look very beautiful today."

"Oh, um, thank you..."  

"I especially like the lip color you've chosen today."  

You balked at him, face becoming warm as you looked between him and Satoru.

Satoru continued to sip on his drink and scroll through his phone.  

And Suguru—

Just fucking smiled.

And later that night, you knew you were screwed.

You were in love with both Satoru and Suguru.

So, you did what you did with your feelings for Satoru and shoved your feelings for Suguru down alongside his. Instead of running away from them and saving your heart, you hurt yourself even more Getting closer and closer to them to the point where you had visited each others homes and you've met each others other friends (Shoko and Nanami were your favorites among them).

Today you were over at Satoru and Suguru's very nice house (another thing you learned about Satoru is that the was stupidly rich). You were simply lounging around, not over for any specific reason, just to be in their presence, when Satoru suddenly stood up from his relaxed position on the couch.

"I need donuts." And without another word, he snatched his keys off the kitchen island and was out the door before either you and Suguru could utter a word.

Now, you had been alone with Suguru before—plenty of times, when Satoru had suddenly broke off from the two of you to take a closer look at things (see: recklessly spend money). But that was usually when you were out in public, where you could go and run to Satoru if you needed.

You'd never been alone with him like this—trapped within four walls.

And of fucking course, he did what he always did and—

"Why are you always smiling like that?" The question came out rougher than you intended, but your nerves were very quickly becoming frayed.

"Smiling like what?" He asked, tilting his head.

"Like you know everything—I don't know." You crossed your arms with a huff.

"You mean like how I know that you like Satoru and I." It wasn't a question, it was a statement.

Your arms grew slack, hands falling into your lap.

He nodded to himself, "Another tell-tale reaction. This is good…"

"How is this good?" You snapped at him. "I'm in love with the two of you, who are already in a committed relationships."

He had the audacity to look surprised for a moment before his smile widened. "You love us? That's even better."

"How can you—" You sniffled, feeling the hot tears quickly race down your cheeks. "I have been selfishly spending time with the two of you. Despite how I feel, and knowing that I should just stop associating with you. I've instead decided to intruding on your relationship, just so that I can experience the tiniest fantasy of something that will never be." You were somehow able to make through your entire confession before you broke down, curling in on yourself.

You heard Suguru sigh then a bit of shuffling before the couch dipped and you were pulled into his warm embrace, which made you cry harder.

"I'm sorry for pushing you, Darling." His whispered above your head. "I should have been more upfront."

You shoved him back, looking up into his brown eyes. "Been more upfront with knowing good and well about my fucking inner turmoil."

"No," His hands slipped into yours." I should have just told you that Satoru and I feel the same way."

Your heart stopped.

There was no way that that was true. There was no way that Satoru and Suguru both felt the same way about you—and even if they did there was no way that you could choose one over the other, and you definitely wouldn't want to be the reason why they broke up either.

"Please." His voice was strained, "Just give me one chance to show you."

"I don't want to do anything behind—"

"And we won't. I'll wait until he comes back and then I'll ask for permission to kiss you. In front of him."

You sighed deeply, finally resigning yourself to your fucked up fate.

You leaned into him, "If this all goes to shit—I'll hate you forever."

"If it does go to shit, I'll accept your rightful infinite hatred."

The two of you were quite as you waited for Satoru to return. You were too exhausted to speak. Suguru was fine with that, perfectly content with rubbing circles onto your hands to help soothe you.  

And then the front door was unlocked, and your anxiety spiked.

But Suguru wasn't going to go back on his word.

"Can I kiss you now?" Suguru asked the moment Satoru stepped into the room.

Your eyes were wide, frantically looking between the two of them, while your lips opened and closed like a fish.  

Suguru placed a hand on your cheek, guiding you back to him.

He said your name, soft and sweet. "Can I kiss you?"

"Yes." You said it so quietly that you weren't sure that he heard you, but he very quickly assured you otherwise as his lips met yours.

Right in front of your close friend—his boyfriend, Satoru.

It was as soft as a rose petal, acutely aware of your fragile state.

"Yes—finally!" Satoru slammed the box of donuts on the kitchen counter then rushed over, reaching out for you.

Suguru intercepted him. "You need to ask first, Satoru."

He nodded furiously at his partner before turning to you, blue eyes bright. "Can I kiss you? Please?"

You blinked at him a few time before nodding. Satoru wasted no time and grabbed your cheeks, pulling you forward to meet him half way.

While Suguru's was soft, Satoru's was rough and rushed. Like he couldn't get enough of you now that he had you.

It didn't last long though became Suguru was quick to yank him off you.  

"Slow down, Satoru." He flicked his forehand, shaking his head at his pout (your eyes kept finding his lips—they were red and shiny). "All this is new and we haven't even been given an answer yet."

"We just kissed? Isn't that enough of an answer?" Satoru asked Suguru who just gestured to you. Those blue spotlights turned on you.  "Isn't it?"

"I mean—" You bit your lip. "I haven't actually said yes or no yet, but..."

"But...?"

You pursed your lips as you glared at the two of them. "...you both better not make me regret this down the line."

Suguru smiled, and despite it being the same know-it-all smile, you felt completely and utter secured by it. "We promise, Darling."

"What? You've already got pet names? No fair!" He paused. "Wait, what exactly did the two of you do while I was gone...?"

Your favorite drink was a simple strawberry mint lemonade. Not too sweet, not too sour. It was made the same way every single time, which made sense since you'd had been coming to this hole-in-the-wall café for about six years now. Every employee, new and old, knew your name and order, so when the familiar drink was placed in the completed section on the counter, you didn't look twice at it and immediately took a sip.  

"Oh, what the fuck—Satoru, take your shit ass drink." You shoved the drink into his waiting hand, taking your own and immediately taking a plate cleansing sip.  

Suguru chuckled. "I'm surprised that after all these years, the two of you are still getting your drinks mixed up."  

"Who is we?" Satoru pointed at you, "This is the one who takes a sip without looking at the name on the side of the cup."

"That wouldn't matter if you didn't drink straight sugar—and then have the damn audacity to eat sweets with it." You eyed him, "Is your body okay?"

He smirked. "Oh, you know my body is absolutely perfect, but I'm sure we can—" Suguru flicked him in the cheek.

"Not in public."

Satoru balked at his audacity (and you to a lesser extent). "Says the one who literally—"

You lightly kicked his shin and hissed, "Not in public!"

"I can't believe my two partners are bullying me like this." He slumped in his seat. "I can't believe I have to deal with this for the rest of my life."

You shrugged, snatching one of his sweets. "You're the one who decided to put a ring on it."

"Now you're stuck with us forever." Suguru nodded in agreement.

Satoru watched the two of you fondly, a wide smile stretched across his lips.

"Yeah, and I wouldn't have it any other way."

I've finally done it.

For my 200th work, I finally gave you all the Sugu/Sato/Reader fluff you all deserved.

IT'S ALSO MY FIRST ONE-SHOT THAT'S OVER 2500 WORDS????

I really popped off for y'all (wipes away a tear).

Now time for me to binge the anime and get back to our regular scheduled programming of Tear Jerking Angst.

Please be excited :)

Ko-Fi | Commission | Masterlist

[frankenjoly]

Beautiful

nobamaki + “you’re as beautiful as the day i lost you”

When Maki finally managed to go back to see her, Nobara was sitting on one of the shared living room’s couches, likely because of Ieiri’s instruction. And when Nobara smiled wide as a greeting, Maki’s heart skipped a beat.

“So, whatcha think? Could’ve been worse, but dunno, this eyepatch’s a bit boring and only fits with my uniform. I gotta get more so I can combine them with the rest of my clothes.” She went on, as casually as if it hadn’t been around two months without knowing if she would wake up or not. “Wanna come? We could also have lunch and watch a movie. Yûji got actual good recs while I was snoozing.”

The first response that came to her mind was a more than obvious yes… but that wasn’t the first response that came out of Maki’s mouth, though.

“You… you’re as beautiful as the day I lost you.” Escaped her lips almost involuntarily, and if she was more prone to blushing when embarrassed (it usually happened more out of gladness instead), she would have. “Oh.” Was the only actual reaction instead; there would be no take-backs.

“Aw. Glad you think that, Maki-san.” Nobara beamed, and Maki felt like she might melt.

“Well, it’s the truth.” She shrugged; not only would there be no take-backs, but Maki was determined to march only forward with that admission.

“Still, you’re prettier than me.”

“Debatable.”

“I’m not up for debating now, anyway. Instead, come’ere.” Nobara patted the spot right beside her on the couch, and when Maki happily obliged, she pulled her in for a tight hug to which there was instant reciprocity.

(Also on ao3.)

[starstruckkittensweets]

"Promise Me" | Gojo x Reader

Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen Pairing: Satoru Gojo x Reader Words: 2.3k

A/N: no one talk to me, this is my way of coping with the latest chapter. This week is not a fun one for us Gojo lovers. Also this scenario has probably been written a thousand times at this point (thanks a lot Gege) but here's my two cents on the matter (go figure, my first official Gojo post and he's fuckin dead)

Warnings: JJK 236 SPOILERS, mentions of fem!reader, nightmares, brief mentions of violence/gore, pet names (baby, sweets, pretty girl), very self-indulgent and I apologize for that

Nightmares are a common occurrence in your line of work; you knew that even before you agreed to take the job. Usually you can stand them when they hit. Staring into the shadows of your bedroom, wide eyes raking over every little thing inside, too scared to even move a muscle. Knowing that, once you do, the illusion will vanish. The fear will go away, bit by bit, until you feel comfortable enough to fall back asleep.

Till the next morning, when you can’t even remember what you were so afraid of.

But this time is different. Your body isn’t frozen at all; you don’t snuggle deeper into the blankets, praying that they’ll be enough to protect you from whatever creatures lurk in the night. In fact they’re suffocating—but even when you throw them off you’re still heaving like a madman. Cold sweat clamming up your skin. Hands trembling at your sides. Eyes nearly bursting from your skull when you realize the other side of the bed is empty.

Empty, empty—where is he? Where did he go?

Was your dream not actually a dream after all?

You’re shaking so hard when you force your way out of bed. Nearly toppling over your own two feet as you stumble out of the bedroom. The door’s cracked open, but there aren’t any lights on, where is he, where the fuck is he?!

Another step, round the corner, and suddenly you smack face first into something hard. A soft oof reaches your ears, and through the darkness and the veil of your tears, you can barely make out the two blue lights glowing at you from above.

“Whoa, careful! Sorry about that, almost didn’t see you there. What’re you doing up so late, baby?”

Your eyes are still blurry, no matter how many times you blink. But you can still see him, his hair messy from sleep, wearing nothing but a pair of old sweatpants. He offers a lazy smile, but it drops almost instantly when he sees the tears spilling down your burning cheeks.

“…Hey, what’s wrong?”

Maybe it’s the tender tone of his voice, the soft way he speaks those three simple words. Or maybe it’s the fact you can see his eyes dim ever so slightly, signaling he’s turned off his technique for the moment. Or maybe it’s just knowing that he’s here, still alive and breathing and in one fucking piece, that makes you lose control. (Not that you had very much to begin with, but still.)

He visibly jolts at the shrill wail that rips from your throat, his whole body rigid as you throw yourself against his chest. Tiny arms wrapped around his waist, nails digging into his muscular back. Almost as though you’re scared he’ll disappear, anchoring him to you with every bit of strength you have.

What does he do? You’re obviously in distress, but why? He’d just left to get a glass of water, he’d been gone for less than five minutes! And now you’re blubbering like a child into his bare chest, sobbing so loudly he’s surprised none of your neighbors have come banging on your door.

“Baby, come on,” he tries, but the pet name only seems to make you cry harder. He winces before taking hold of both your shoulders. He doesn’t bother trying to pry you away; no need to make you even more upset. “You gotta tell me what’s wrong. I can’t help you if I don’t know.”

Damn it, everything he’s saying is just making it worse. He hates seeing you cry like this. So tiny and frail, curling into his chest, incoherent words and noises spilling from your lips. You won’t answer him or let go of his body, no matter how many times he tries to convince you.

Does he just ride it out and let you finish? What if you pass out? Will you still remember any of this by the time you wake up tomorrow? Was it something he said earlier that made you this upset? He wracks his brain, trying to see if any of his earlier teasing struck a nerve within you. He doesn’t recall saying anything that could prompt this kind of reaction out of you…

Then again, what could? You’re his girl, his other half (as he’s quick to remind you and everyone else within earshot). Strong but soft, a capable sorcerer climbing the ranks with ease. You have an unshakeable character, sticking true to your values and morals no matter what. It’s one of the reasons why he fell in love with you in the first place. Not just anything could resort you to a crying, trembling mess in his arms.

He sucks in a deep breath and tries again. “Come on, tell me what’s wrong. I promise I’ll make it all better, I swear!”

And he’s just about to bribe you with some of the sweets he’s stashed away in the kitchen when you lift your head from his chest. Cheeks hot and tearstained, and yet you’re still so beautiful.

“S-sorry,” you barely manage to choke out. Your throat’s practically on fire, and you can already feel a monster of a headache coming on. “I…I had…”

He doesn’t say anything. He simply wipes your tears away with his thumb, waiting patiently for you to finish.

“…I had a bad dream…”

It sounds so fucking childish when you say it out loud. Should’ve just kept your mouth shut, gone back to bed once you saw he was okay. What do you expect he’ll do about it, huh? Not like he can erase your bad memories, no matter how strong he might be.

But that hole in your chest is still there, even after all that crying—

And you can’t help it anymore. You press your palms to your face, desperately trying to rid your fact of all those tears. Wanting to save at least some of your dignity before the night’s over.

A pair of warm hands close over your wrists, his touch surprisingly gentle as he pulls your hands away. Exposing your teary, blubbering face to those beautiful blue eyes. The mere thought makes you want to cry all over again.

“C’mon now, you’re too pretty to cry like that.” The corner of his mouth is quirked up in a smile, his messy hair hanging over his eyes as he tilts his head to meet your gaze. He catches another tear on his thumb, making sure to wipe it away before pressing a kiss to your cheek. “I don’t like seeing you all upset like that.”

“B-but”—oh fuck, here you go again—“you were…you were dead!”

You can still remember everything so clearly. The blood trickling from his mouth. The glazed look in those dull eyes. How fucking fast it all seemed to happen. One moment he was fine, breathing and smiling as usual, and the next he was staring up at the sky. You didn’t even hear his body drop to the ground.

So much blood, it’s not supposed to be out of your body like that, why couldn’t I save you, why couldn’t—

“I’m sorry!” you blurt out, even as he takes you in his arms and pulls you against his chest. “I wasn’t enough to save you! You were dead and I couldn’t do a damn thing about it!”

You don’t even know what you’re saying at this point, but for whatever reason, talking about this seems to help. Your chest feels a bit lighter than it did before, even if your heart’s as heavy as a stone.

“You’re not supposed to die! And I know that’s stupid of me to say, everyone dies at some point, but you always say you’re the strongest! No one can hurt you, even if they tried! So why—”

Your voice catches in your throat, tears still streaming down your face. He still holds you close, one arm around your waist, his other hand resting on the back of your head.

“…Why did you leave me? You said you’d never leave me, no matter what! But you did—and I let it happen—I’m so fucking sorry, Satoru, I just—”

You’re running out of steam, you can feel it in your bones. Too exhausted to cry anymore, probably too burnt out to even walk back to your room. But before you can even try he’s lifting your face in his hands, tracing your swollen lips with his thumb.

Smirking down at you like there’s nothing wrong in the world.

“Why are you sorry, sweets? If anything, I should be the one saying sorry. Sorry that dream version of me was such a cheap imitation.” He rolls his eyes with a scoff. “Like I’d let myself get killed like that.”

“S-Satoru, I’m serious!”

“And so am I.” And you can see it in his face—the way his eyes practically burn into yours, his mouth set in a tight line, his jaw clenched even when he forces out the words. “I said I’d never leave you, right?”

You sniffle out, “Y-yeah…”

“And I meant it. So no matter how many bad dreams you might have of me,” he curls his hands around your thighs and lifts you up effortlessly, securing your body against his chest, “just know that they’re dreams. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Slowly, he begins to carry you back to your room. Your arms find their way around his neck, fingers burying their way into his soft white hair. You’ll never get over how strong he is, how amazing he is—and how of all the people in the world, he chose to share the rest of his life with you.

Not strong enough to save himself from dying.

Your throat fills with bile at the thought, even as he settles you back down against the mattress. Back in the place where your nightmare occurred, where you saw his body and all that blood—

“Don’t leave me!”                                      

“Baby, I wasn’t even planning on it.” Damn, this nightmare really messed with your head, huh? “I’m staying right here with you, alright?”

You won’t disappear on me again? You won’t leave me alone like you did in that dream, right?

He seems to see right through you, given the soft expressing in those dazzling blue eyes. “I promise, I won’t leave your side. Not tonight, not ever.”

It takes a few moments for the two of you to get situated in bed; Satoru ends up having to do most of the work, since your arms and legs are still trembling uncontrollably. But the second the blankets are back around you, he wraps his arms around your shoulders and pulls you into his chest. Long legs tangling with yours, his breath warm against the crown of your head.

Lips soft as they press a thousand kisses to your forehead.

“I don’t know what kind of curse you dreamt of, but if I ever came across something like it one of these days…” He leans down, lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. “…I’d win, hands down.”

“You’d better.” Your head’s pounding something fierce, every bone in your body screaming for some proper rest. And it starts to feel normal, being wrapped up in Satoru’s arms. “…Otherwise, I’d have to kick your ass.”

He lets out a laugh before nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck. His long eyelashes tickle your skin, his lips sweet and warm when they finally find your own.

“I’m sure you would. Although, I’d never let that happen; I’ll make sure to win every single fight, I swear! Don’t wanna make my pretty girl worry about me.”

But you’re always going to worry about him. It’s in your blood, comes with the territory of keeping this relationship alive. And maybe it’s stupid, maybe he is strong enough to never have to worry about himself in a fight. But there’s always going to be that part of you that wonders if he’s going to make it home tonight.

You tilt your head, eager to taste his lips again. Like your life depends on it, and the thought makes him smirk.

“Aww, can’t get enough of me, sweets?”

“…Shut up.”

But he knows he’s right. And you know he’s right. Doesn’t mean you have to say it out loud, though.

“You know I meant it, right?” Suddenly he’s holding your face again, brushing his nose against your own. His voice strangely soft as he leans in close, warm breath ghosting over your face. “’M not leaving you. Never, ever, ever!”

That gets a smile out of you. Weak and pitiful, but a smile nonetheless. At least he’s earnest. At the end of the day, he means well when it comes to you.

“I know you won’t. …So thank you.” You return his hug, sneaking your hand between your bodies and pressing it against his chest. Your throat growing tight when you feel the familiar b-bmp of his heart against your trembling palm. “Thank you for staying with me.”

There’s that tiny voice in the back of your head, urging you not to listen to such pointless promises. Knowing that deep down, neither of you can stop death when it comes knocking at your door. No matter how much power he possesses, even Satoru Gojo can’t resist death’s clutches when they finally sink their claws into him.

But there’s time for you to deal with all of that in the future. Right here, right now, he’s safe and sound in your arms. Messy white hair tickling your neck as he nibbles on the skin of your earlobe. Making you giggle as he brushes the rest of your tears away.

And thanking whatever deity may be listening above that you get to spend just one more night with him, wrapped up in his arms with his lips against your own.

[sunsetsandsunshine]

~ 𝚃𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚕 𝚘𝚛 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚕 ~

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙸𝙼 𝚂𝙾𝙱𝙱𝙸𝙽𝙽𝙶𝙶𝙶𝙶. 𝙸’𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙿𝙱&𝙹 𝚍𝚞𝚘 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚃𝙾 𝙱𝙰𝙲𝙺 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚃𝙼𝙽𝚃 𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘𝚖 𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝. 𝙸 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚜𝚖 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚞𝚢𝚜 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚍𝚠— 𝙸’𝚖 𝚐𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚍𝚞𝚘’𝚜 𝚘𝚏𝚌 𝚒𝚝’𝚜 ��𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚟𝚋𝚏𝚋𝚏𝚑𝚍𝚓𝚓 𝙸 𝙻𝙾𝚅𝙴 𝙿𝙱&𝙹 ✊🏾🥲…𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢’𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚍𝚞𝚘 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚙…˚*• ̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*＊·̩̩̥͙

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: 𝙵𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜: 𝟸,𝟻𝟷𝟸

𝙻𝚎𝚎: 𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚢 🐢🧡

𝙻𝚎𝚛: 𝙳𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚎 🐢💜

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚝𝚘𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚝 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚍𝚎𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚞𝚙 𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛. (𝙶𝚎𝚝 𝚒𝚝? 𝙱𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚝 = 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚎 = 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜/𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚞𝚙? 𝚈𝚎𝚊𝚑 𝚘𝚏 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚒𝚝, 𝚑𝚎’𝚜 𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝).

(𝙰/𝙽: 𝙳𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚐𝚞𝚢! 𝚃*𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙺𝚒𝚗𝚔/𝙽𝚂𝙵𝚆 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚜 𝙳𝙽𝙸!!!)

𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚜: @shut-up-jo @someone1348 @itzsana-kiddingmenow

@saturnzskyzz @giggly-cloud @savemeafruitjuice

@rice-cake-teen10 @titters-and-tingles @tmntalways @my-l0v3r-v3rse

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝟷𝟶𝟷% 𝚊 𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚌 𝚜𝚘 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝙸 𝚜𝚞𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚕𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍 <𝟹

𝚃𝚆: 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎’𝚜 𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚑𝚑𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝’𝚜 𝚒𝚝!!!

̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙻𝚎��’𝚜 𝚍𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜…𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 /𝚛𝚎𝚏˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

Alright. Hear Mikey out on this one, okay? Because in all honesty, this was originally a fire plan. A lit plan. Some might say that the fire from the plan was sooooo hot it was practically blazing due to the fact of how awesome it was.

…okay. Well perhaps maybe people don’t say that exact term but they definitely should!

Anyways, it started off as a pretty chill day for the orange banded teen. I mean, it was Summer for crying out loud! These next few months were supposed to be absolutely nothing but pure chillness.

If your Summer isn’t even a bit chill in the slightest, then you’re doing something totally wrong. 

Daylight savings was over, school was over and most importantly…homework was over! (Besides the fact that Mikey and his brother’s are forced to do dumb reading reports over the break because the school system dumb)…But other than that, Michelangelo was basically free! Free as a bird. 

And so, like any sane studious kid that has been in High school for about a year…Mikey has been doing something he hasn’t done in a while since school started…

…Absolutely nothing.  

He’s been spending the past week or two playing Roblox on his IPad while eating Doritos mixed with Skittles.

Look, don’t even judge until you try, it’s actually pretty good!

But anyways, as Mikey was playing Flee the Facility, he randomly came to terms with the fact that he needed to steal some of his brother’s clothes for today…

Random thought, I know. 

The youngest has (and always will) politely take his brother’s clothes during the Summer— preferably hoodies and/or shirts. It’s basically a forced hand-me-down/Yard sale the youngest turtle always looks forward to. And today marked the 29th of June— 8 days from June 22nd. 

And if you’re unfamiliar, the 22nd of June marked the official end of Spring and official start of Summer! So the smallest turtle’s annual raid of his elder brother’s clothes was loooooong overdue. 

Last Summer, Mikey took Raph’s Detroit Become Human t-shirt, his WWE shirt, one of his polos and one of his The Walking Dead t-shirts (Raph had a TON). 

And the Summer before that, Mikey took Leo’s Squidward hoodie. And…yeah. That was basically it— the eldest was a pretty bland guy and there was really nothing worth taking from his wardrobe. 

So if you did your Math correctly, you would realize that this year it was Donnie’s turn. And so that’s what the youngest of the turtle teens was planning…

How the absolute hell could he take some of his immediate older brother’s clothes without taking ALL of them? 

Because believe it or not, the nerdy turtle of the group had a pretty good fashion taste and sense. His style was simple but not too bland or standout-ish. Donnie’s style was just a simple array of sweatshirts— a piece of clothing the smallest turtle could never EVER have too much of. 

But the tech-y turtle of the family definitely did. Just looking at his side of the shared bedroom, you could see sweatshirts and hoodies galore just scattered everywhere. 

The orange banded mutant looked through the sweatshirts and hoodies, trying to figure out which one he should now claim as his own.

A Sailor Moon hoodie? Too bright. 

An MHA sweatshirt? Too basic. 

An Attack on Titan hoodie? Too edgy. 

The youngest sighed in frustration, digging through his brother’s mountain of clothes before settling on a nice black hoodie with Gojo Satoru on it.

…what? Gojo Satoru was cool! Even though the orange banded turtle had only seen him in TikTok edits…those edit’s were pretty fire.

Just like his plan of taking his brother’s anime merch because he simply just could. 

The orange banded teen looked at himself in the mirror right next to Donnie’s tent, humming the popular yet overused tune that Gojo is associated with to himself, trying (and failing) to do the popular dance. 

“Ugh…how did Donnie do it again…?” The chocolate eyed teen inquired, attempting to do the dance one last time before lightly falling on his shell; the other sweatshirts and hoodies breaking his fall. 

“Dude…” A voice giggled behind him.

Mikey’s eyes widened at the sudden but familiar voice, glancing upwards to lock eyes with the one and only Donatello, peering down at him and smirking. 

“DONNIE!” Mikey shouted in surprise, getting up and whirling around so that he faced his immediate older brother as he tried to look as casual as possible, “Donatello! Dee! Don-bon…what’s…up…?” The youngest grimaced, sending awkward finger-guns as the hood to the hoodie fell down, completely covering his eyes due to how big it was on him. 

The elder snickered, putting a hand over his mouth as he tried to stifle them a little. “Oh shut up…” Mikey huffed, taking the hood off as the other turtle chuckled in amusement again, going to his younger brother and standing right next to him.

“My sweatshirt literally engulfs you.” The turtle that wielded glasses chuckled soflty which only caused the youngest to roll his eyes annoyed at the entire situation. “Shut. Up.” He pouted, crossing his arms as he glared at his older brother, “It looks good on me!”

“It swallows you…” The other said back. 

“I’LL SWALLOW YOU!” Mikey retorted, turning away from his brother angrily. 

The purple loving teen sighed fondly and laughed slightly at the automatic retort, raising a teasing brow at his younger brother, “Are you attempting at trying to look like me~?” 

The orange banded turtle blushed profusely, glaring at the other turtle’s question, “HELL NO.”

“Thehen why do you hahave the hoodie I wear literally everywhere? You know damn well Gojo is my go-to anime character of all time.”

Michelangelo grumbled, looking to the side of him as he swayed his arms at his sides. Okay…well, perhaps out of context it did seem like he was trying to look like Donnie. But he wasn’t. He wasn’t.

The only reason why the youngest “steals” clothes from his brother’s is because…well, he can and it’s easy. And it’s just…sorta comforting in a way. Not the stealing part…but…

Look— it’s dumb and confusing don’t think about it too much. 

The elder teen huffed out a small laugh, “Why did you choose my Gojo Satoru hoodie of all things, though?” 

“…I keep seeing him on TikTok and he’s the only anime character that hasn’t made me cry out of cringe in a way...” 

“Ooookay. Good for you, bud.” Donnie nodded, putting his hand out “Now give it here. Me and the TMLBANOT21stC are meeting later today to have a JJK meeting.”

The chocolate eyed turtle blinked, “Your going to…what…?” 

“My club stands for The Most Logical, Big-minded, Anime Nerds of the 21st century. Duh.” The honey brown eyed mutant said sassily, “Now give me back my hoodie or I’ll be late!” 

Mikey blinked once more, a small cheeky smile plastering on his face, “And what if I don’t want to?” 

“Michaelangelo—“ 

And with that, the smallest turtle ran out of the shared room, moving his legs as fast as he could that the other in the room just saw an orange and green blur sprint past him. 

“MIKEY!!!” Donnie howled angrily, running out of the room to catch up with him. The second youngest bumped in between the two eldest turtles, quickly apologizing to them as he ran after the youngest.

The leader in blue scratched his head confused, “Should we…?”

“Nah.” Raph commented. 

.

.

.

.

.

.

Donnie was internally groaning. If he couldn’t get his hoodie back from his brother in the next 10 minutes he would be late to his own club. 

Imagine that.

…Exactly! You can’t. 

The second youngest looked around the living room, trying to figure out just where his little brother was. In the last couple of years, the honey brown teen didn’t really mind the youngest taking some of his clothes (even if Donnie would’ve preferred him just normally asking).

But Donnie needed this hoodie. More than anything and one way or another he would get it. 

Suddenly…an idea popped into the geniuses brain, smirking widely as he leaned on the wall. He closed the door without stepping outside of the kitchen, still in the room to make it seem like he left. The youngest peeked from behind the couch, him and his brother making immediate eye contact. 

Ha. Got em. 

The anime loving turtle basically lunged at the smaller turtle, sitting on top of him as the other tried to squirm away. “I GOT YOU, YOU LITTLE TURD!” The purple cladded teen smirked triumphantly, crossing his arms and watching amusedly as his little brother tried to escape. 

“Just give me back my hoodie, man. You’re making it seem like I’m asking you for your liver.” 

“YOU DID ONCE!!!” 

“That was for a Bio experiment.” The elder corrected almost immediately, “But that’s not the point just— UGH! Give me my dang hoodie!!!” 

“NO!!!”

The purple banded turtle glared, uncrossing his arms as he wiggled his fingers in the air, “Wanna do this the hard way? Because we can do the hard way, little brother…”

The brown eyed mutant paled, shaking his head back and forth at the question. Well…this didn’t go exactly as planned.

Donnie just scoffed, his hands immediately going for the other’s underarms but Mikey put his arms down, sputtery giggles escaping his mouth as he did so. “P-Plehease! Deehee!”

“Don’t 'plehease Deehee' me! Give back me back my JJK hoodie!”

“BuHUT—“

The elder turtle lost his patience, effortlessly raising the other’s arms as he scribbled his free hand’s fingers all over his underarms. The smallest turtle squawked, falling into loud giggles. He kicked his legs underneath his older brother, “DOHOHON— NOHO!”

“Someone is sensitive here!” Donnie mused.

“STAHAP— I AHAM NAHAT!!”

“You’re not? Not what~? Ticklish~?” The anime loving turtle asked, his smiled widening as he saw how flustered his baby brother was getting. “STAHA— STAHA-! DEEHEE!” Mikey shrieked, “NOHO TEEHEEASING!”

The glasses wielding teen gasped dramatically, “No teasing? You take my hoodie and now you’re telling me what to do?” 

“NONONONO WAH— *squeal* WAHAHAIT!!!”

The tech whiz wasted no time prodding his thumbs on the youngest hips. The brown eyed teen squealed loudly, hugging his middles and just not even trying to stop Donnie’s hands at this point.

The last time he attempted to, his immediate older brother spent the next half an hour scribbling the orange banded teen’s palms…

That was hell in itself and Mikey was not trying to relive that again if he could help it.

“Awe…does this tiiiickle? Is this tickling you~? Maybe that’s cuz you’re reeeaally ticklish here…” 

“IHI— *squeal* QUIHIHIET!” Michelangelo demanded loudly. 

Donnie smiled at the weak retort, kneading the other’s hips harder, “What happened to all that smugness, hm? Where’d it all go, little guy~? Do I have you in a giggly puddle because your tickle tickle ticklish and I’m tickle tickle tickling you~?”

“STAHAHAP *squeal* SAHAHAYING *squeal* THAHAT, AHAHASHOLE!!!”

“Stop saying what~? Tickle? Ticklish—?”

The orange banded teen squealed loudly once more, accidentally cutting his brother off with his teasing. The glasses wielding teen couldn’t help but laugh softly at it, “Awe…look at my baby brother…” Donnie cooed. 

“NAHAHAHA!” The youngest threw his head back in loud laughter as Donnie now tickled the sides of his shell. Mikey arched his back, trying to buck his older brother off of him but Donnie held on easily, continuing to tickle him. 

“PLEHEASE! PLEHEHEASE!!!” 

“'Plehease'? Please what~?”

“JUHUST *squeal* NAHAT *hic* THE SHEHELL!” Mikey despretley cried, turning to his side as other small hiccups followed as the end of the hoodie went up a bit, revealing some of his plastron. 

The honey brown eyed turtle giggled at the perfectly played out action, “Oh…would you look at that~!” He mused, “Last chance to give me back my hoodie, bro.”

The smaller turtle’s eyes widened in realization, looking up at his brother from the corner of his eye, “Yohou *hic* wohohoudn’t…!”

“Oho wouldn’t I~?” Donnie grinned, gently holding Mikey’s waist and blowing multiple upon multiple raspberries on his stomach whilst scribbling his nails on his sides. “DAHAH— *squeal* DAHANNIE!” Mikey cried. 

“Jeez…your mega ticklish here, huh?”

“SHUHUT— GEHET— PLEHEHEASE!!!” The brown eyed teen rambled through his laughs, shaking his head. 

“Why— would— I???” The tech whiz mocked playfully, now blowing raspberries on his little brother’s neck and scribbling his fingers all over his stomach. “NAHAHAT THEHERE!! BROHOHO COHOME OHAHAN!!” The youngest squealed and squeaked. 

Donatello smirked, ceasing his 100% justified attack for a second, “You saying 'nahahat thehere' is genuinely so funny, Mikes. Like, I was going to tickle you here regardless but, hey! Thanks for confirming how badly it tickles for you.”

He resumed his tickling onslaught on his younger brother, the younger brother in question basically falling limp due to how hard he was laughing. The only body parts that were really fighting for his life right now were his legs, that still did not cease desperately kicking the floor. 

The purple banded turtle now started lightly giving ticklish nibbles on his younger brother’s neck as his light scribbles on the smaller turtle’s sides became quick and fast squeezes. “Om nom nom! Hm…you taste like…giggles! And ticklishness~! My favorite food combo!” The elder teased. 

“DEEHEE DEEHEEHEE?! WHAT DOHOES THAHAT EHEHEVEN MEEHEEAN?!?!” Mikey cried desperately, his voice sounding like a tea kettle brewing because of how squeaky and high pitched it was.

“Awe…you haven’t used that nickname for me in ages~! It must tickle that bad, huh?” The glasses wielding turtle cooed.

“IHI *hic* CAHAN’T!”

“You can’t~? Can’t what~?”

“IHIT— *hic* NAHAHAH!” Mikey silently wheezed, throwing his head back as he shut his eyes tight. “Is someone giving me the silent treatment?” Donnie snickered, “Pfft— get it? Cuz you’re laughing silently~? Eh? Eh?”

Okay, even if Mikey was the comedian of the family, he would’ve admitted that was a pretty solid joke if he wasn’t getting slaughtered right now. “FIHINE FIHINE *hic* HAHAVE *hic* IHIHIT BAHACK!!! TAHAKE IHIHIT!! PLEHEASE *hic* JUHUST STAHAHAP *squeal* I’M GOHONNA *squeal* DIHIHIE!!!”

“That would be kiiiiiiiinda funny making your grave honestly.” The tech loving teen smugly said, “Michelangelo Hamato. Reason of death? Being too freaking ticklish.”

“DEEHEEHEE!!!” The youngest cried. Donnie stopped, getting up and laying next to his brother, wrapping him in a side hug which the smaller turtle immediately melted to. “May I plehease hahave my hoodie back?” 

“Ihi juhust sahaid yehehehes!” The orange banded teen groaned, literally throwing the hoodie at his immediate older brother. The anime loving teen smiled, putting on the hoodie as he grinned in triumph. “For real real. I feel like new...” He said to himself proudly. 

And if the youngest knew his brother (which he did), that was probably a quote that that Gojo fellow has said. 

“Oh! And by the way, little bro. My club doesn’t have a meet up today. It’s tomorrow.” Donnie snickered, walking away and leaving Mikey left in complete and utter awe. 

That freaking asshole.

Okay, well now Mikey’s definitely taking that MHA hoodie next year.

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙵𝙸𝙽˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙ 

(𝙿.𝚂.: 𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚌, 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐!!!)

[suggiesug]

let's stay warm together

gn reader x choso: curling up by the fire with your beloved words: 700~

There's a clear difference in warmth between upstairs, where you've been sleeping, and downstairs, where the fireplace is. The heating hasn't been working properly lately, and while it really is the most inconvenient time of year for it to start acting up, you and Choso have been dealing with it. The fireplace downstairs helps, and you have plenty of blankets to smother yourselves in. Being close to each other helps, too, and Choso makes hot drinks for you every day, whether it's tea, or coffee, or hot chocolate. It's not exactly good for you to drink every single day, but it keeps you warm. Choso doesn't enjoy seeing you shiver. The cold affects you more than it affects him. He always runs hot. Your own personal radiator. It means less cuddles come summer, but it's perfect this time of year.

But when you wake up, there's a distinct lack of warmth in the bed. Even with the duvet and the blanket, there's a chill that settles into your bones, and it's not the most pleasant of awakenings. Especially when paired with the fact that it's still dark, and you're hoping that just means it's early morning as you roll over, hand flailing at the bedside table for your phone. You squint at the light of the screen.

2:14 AM. Great.

The cold will make it more difficult to get back to sleep now, and while you are planning on going back to sleep, you figure you might as well figure out where your radiator has gone. Throwing the covers off of you, you shiver at the cold air that hits your skin, and you grab one of the blankets to wrap around your shoulders before you head out of the room. He's not in the bathroom, or anywhere else upstairs, so you head down.

There's a soft, warm light seeping into the hallway from the living room. Warm in hue, and warm in feeling. You feel it as soon as you step into the doorway, something far more pleasant than the cool air upstairs, and it's almost enough to convince you to just fall asleep on the couch.

But when you glance toward the couch, you see it already has an occupant. Sitting up, the light of the fire reflecting off of loose, brown locks.

"Can't sleep?"

It's spoken gently enough that if he were asleep, it likely wouldn't wake him up. The figure moves, though, perked up by your voice, and his head turns in order to look over the back of the couch toward you. A tired face, but soft. He looks his softest when he's tired, or relaxed. Right now, it looks like he's both.

"Mm," he lets out an affirmative hum, and as you approach the couch from behind, you take note of the blanket sprawled across his lap. More for comfort than warmth. "You?"

"It's cold."

"... Sorry."

"It's fine. I know you just didn't wanna wake me up just because you couldn't sleep. You still have to put up with me, though."

Put up with you. Choso seems amused by the wording, a huff of air harshly leaving his nose, and there's a gentle smile playing at his lips as you sit down next to him. You're immediately cuddling up to his side, and you open up your blanket so that you can wrap it around him as well. Less to keep him warm, and more just to make sure you're as close as can be.

Choso's as warm as he always is. He warms you more than the fire itself, and he's twice as pleasant to look at when you glance up from where you've rested your head on his shoulder. He catches you looking, his own gaze drifting toward you, and he seems peaceful like this. Happy and content. An arm wraps around you, securely keeping you close. A thumb rubs your back with soothing, consistent circles, and his head tilts to gently rest on top of yours.

The two of you don't need to speak. There are no unspoken I love you's between you, because they linger wordlessly in the air like heat. It rises and fills the room, and so you both know you don't need to say anything.

Besides, you're too tired to talk, and it'd ruin this perfect atmosphere created between you.

[indigosabyss]

The Not-A-Curse (JJK x Nanbaka Crossover) AU: Kyoto Goodwill Event – Possible Track for Nanba?

The Goodwill Event was a collaboration between the three major jujutsu education organizations in Japan: Tokyo Jujutsu High, Kyoto Jujutsu High, and... Nanba Training Academy.

"Why'd you say that weird?" Yuuji asked, immediately picking up on Megumi's reticence on the subject.

Gojo tapped his chin, "Well, how to put this? Even compared to sorcerers, they're weird."

"The Goodwill Event only happens either here or Kyoto because they literally will not tell us where their secret island base is." Megumi explained sourly.

"An island?!" Nobara screeched, "So unfair! I'd throw the match so we can get an island vacation next year."

"Which is exactly why we let them not host." Gojo tutted, "Otherwise, everyone has an incentive to not do their best!"

Then above them, a loud 'POOF' rang out, followed by a cloud of white smoke. When it cleared, there was a man dangling upside down from the ceiling right in front of Gojo, using a belt that resembled more of a tail wound around a lighting fixture to keep him there.

Bright red markings around his eyes heightened the dry glare leveled at their teacher from mere inches away, who smiled beatifically.

"Heard you were talking shit." The guy drawled finally. Yuuji thought he was really cool.

Gojo grinned, turning to look at his students and pointing at the interloper, "See? Weird."

(more excerpts thru the entire arc under cut)

------

"'Goodwill Event'." Principal Hyakushiki - nicknamed 'The Warden' - scoffed as she marched in front of the chosen six students for the event. They all straightened their spines as she continued to lecture, "Don't let your hearts soften. Don't lose sight of the target. Remember: this is war."

Zakuro gulped, leaning to whisper to his trainer, "Doctor, isn't this a bit dramat-?"

He was cut off by the Principal bellowed, "WHAT IS THIS?"

"WAR!" The rest of the group readily yelled. The Department Five duo he expected to like that sentiment, but the Dreams track guy said it with way more bloodthirst than was normal.

----

Jyugo didn't want to invite the Kyoto group to the school. He just happened to be passing by with Inumaki and Panda who wanted him to break into Kusakabe's car.

And now he had been cornered by this scary guy with a topknot.

"You. What's your type in women?" He asked, towering over him.

Jyugo blinked, struggling to understand how they had gone from carjacking plans to this.

"I... don't like women." He settled on saying.

"Men, then!" The interrogater switched tracks easily.

"I don't like men either." This finally hit a dead end for the guy. Was it really that strange?

"Complete emotional unattachment is his entire identity." Panda backed him up.

Mai waved a hand over the weird guy's eyes, to no reaction, "Woah, you broke Todo."

---

"Hey, Number Fifteen. Want to watch the event from the screen us staff get?" Gojo asked, half-distracted by a strawberry popsicle, "Your old supervisors have great taste in snacks!"

Number Fifteen shook his head, looking listlessly at the book the blind fire-cursed man had given him, "Kinda busy right now."

"Okay then, have fun staring holes into a book you clearly can't stand!" He ducked back out, beating the bad thoughts back with a stick.

---

Zakuro's hands were shaking lightly as he pulled Jyugo's hand into a handshake, "Holy shit, you're the original Cursed Shackles user."

Funnily enough, the Cursed Shackles were the last thing people pointed out as weird about him, in jujutsu spaces. Everyone was more excited by the Hollow Spirit aspect.

"Thanks." He managed, extracting his hand from the grip, "Should you be down here?"

"We should run away." Zakuro suggested, already thinking about the future, "This world, these chains, we don't deserve it. Let's get out of here."

Jyugo considered it. He looked back at his room, still covered with deadbolts on the outside.

The idea wasn't too unappealing.

---

The curse with tree roots growing out of its eyes flexed its cursed energy, facing down the young sorcerers surrounding him.

The tiny boy with plaster-white skin flickered his cursed energy wildly. His classmate in the red jumpsuit started moving back.

"Brace yourselves." He warned, "Upa is unleashing his technique."

Everyone backed away as the boy fell into a stance, waiting in anticipation as he concentrated higher and higher cursed energy into his palms. Until finally he released a blinding beam of it directly at the curse.

Smoke rose up from the spot, eviscerating the creature previously standing there.

"Your secret technique," Megumi said with withering disappointment, "was just hypercharged cursed energy blast."

"Yes." Upa said simply, "It is a talent treasured in Department Five."

Megumi fucking hated Nanba Academy.

[thee-horny-thicky]

Can we pleaseee please get sanyu pregnancy moments like we did with jona?🥺

Honestly I would definitely pay $ to get something from you/gen

I now have a Ko-Fi, so if you want to pay me, feel free to commission or tip me! And I have to admit, I struggled to think of a unique pregnancy moment, and had a hard time coming up with a plot. So, I fell back in what I know best: smut (kinda). It isn't many moments like with Jona, but a single moment of Yua thinking. Enjoy!

Decorations

When Suguru fucked you, there were times your mind wondered. Whether you were in the mood or not, he took you many times a day. That meant becoming lost in pleasure was simply impossible at times. As your belly swelled with your second child, you found yourself contemplating how you'd decorate for your little one. You had some months left to decide, but it was something you were eager to do.

You had a small checklist, similar to the one for Jona. For one, the colors had to be natural and child friendly. Suguru wanted it to be a surprise, so he didn't let you know the gender. It was why you'd chosen another gender neutral name, which also happened to be Jona’s almost name. Sanyu. Little Sanyu would need an equally neutral room.

Suguru sped up, and grunted when you involuntarily clenched around him. You considered green and yellow. You thought it'd be cute.

Colors were decided. Next on your list, stuffed animals. They were a convenient way to hide your blood creations, and adorable decorations. You thought forest animals would be nice stuffies, and complement the color scheme. Yellow and green reminded you of early fall, when the leaves were just beginning to change their color. Fall reminded you of dense forest that sported brilliant colors. Doe, birds, and wolves were forest staples.

One more thing down. You'd need to begin moving Jona's baby furniture out of storage. The moment he hit two, Suguru revamped his room to be befitting of a toddler, not an infant. His crib was replaced by a tiny bed, his changing table by a potty. All that went up into the attic. The pieces you didn't have there, you'd need to buy, like a dresser, bookcase, seating, etc.

You inhaled sharply when Suguru slapped your cheek. It stung, but it wasn't hard enough to leave a bruise.

“Back with me, baby?”

Before you answered, he wiggled a hand between your bodies. A whimper escaped you when he pinched your clit. It seemed your time in your head has come to an end.

[strangersails]

hear me out: gojo casually becomes a tiktok famous posting a phone call prank where he flirts with a guy calling him on his office number and making him nervous and flustered. it obviously gets viral. he thinks it’s just a one time thing, he doesn’t mean to make something more out of it or to start a prank series, but he gets pushed by shoko and suguru and he decides to try for a second prank call eventually. he dials some random numbers until eventually somebody picks up, after just a few seconds.

“hello?”

the voice on the other side of the phone is so deep and serious that gojo can already feel his face getting warmer. “hello, handsome.”

there’s silence for a moment. “you might have called the wrong number.”

“oh no, i totally didn’t.” gojo turns off the microphone to let out an hysterical laugh, looking at his friends. “he’s a daddy” he says to them. “he so is a daddy”.

“is this a prank?” the voice on the phone says. “i’m hanging up.”

gojo rushes to turn the microphone back on and says “no, don’t hang up, i’m here. i’m sorry”.

“who’s this?” sexy guy asks. he sounds so serious gojo wishes he could fuck a voice.

“you don’t know?” there’s silence. sexy guy must be thinking. gojo don’t want him to hang up, so he adds quickly “that’s a shame. i guess you’ll need to find out.”

there’s silence for another second, then Sexy Guy says “okay.”

that’s when gojo’s heart starts beating faster, cause he didn’t expect the man with the sexiest voice he’s ever heard to actually play along. and things are starting to feel serious, in a way.

“for real?” gojo answers after a moment, getting up from the couch and walking to his room, cause he needs to think and he can’t, when suguru’s leaning on his shoulder to catch the whole conversation.

also, he doesn’t care about the prank anymore.

“what, you’re up to a little flirting on the phone with strangers, but you chicken out if i flirt back?”

gojo feels called out at that.

“i just didn’t expect for things to turn serious” he admits. “so... who this sexy voice belongs to?”

“it’s nanami.”

then there are voices and noises on the other side of the phone.

“just nanami?”

“nanami kento” the man says, then clears his throat.

“nanami kento” gojo repeats slow and sweet, just to savour the name on his lips.

“correct” nanami says, short and formal.

“you’re at work, aren’t you?”

“correct” nanami says again. “i’m afraid you’ll have to call back later.”

“okay then. we don’t want to get you in trouble” gojo says, and it’s true, as much as he’d like to hear him blush on the phone. “as long as you take me out for dinner tonight.”

nanami is silent for a moment. “i’ll consider it.”

“and promise to think about me” gojo likes to tease him. nanami is obviously curious, but gojo doesn’t like the way he answers, so collected and like he’s unimpressed. he wants to push him a little.

“oh, i will.”

“i’ll call you later then, daddy.”

nanami chokes and gojo is happy to hear him cough loud and clear his throat again.

“see you later...”

“satoru” he offers.

“satoru” nanami repeats and gojo loves his own name right now.

“love you” gojo keeps pushing. he doesn’t want to hang up, but he’ll have to, eventually.

nanami doesn’t answer, just huffs a laugh through his nose. he’s nervous.

“say it back.”

nanami doesn’t answer.

gojo insists. “say it back.”

“no” nanami sounds so serious.

“please” gojo uses his sweetest voice. “please, daddy.”

gojo can hear nanami swear under his breath. “ok, stop messing around. i’m at work.” voice so low.

“but you have to say it back” gojo says it in a way so manipulative and demanding and innocent. he knows what he’s doing and he know that nanami won’t resist.

“god, you'll get me fired.” nanami exhales loud, probably through his nose. “okay. love you too.”

gojo’s heart skips a beat. this is the best thing that is happened to him.

“of course you love me” he says then.

“such a brat” gojo grins at that. he won. nanami speaks again. “i really have to go, now.”

“okay, baby. think of me.” he says again.

“i will.”

gojo waits for him to hang up.

he still doesn’t.

“call me back.” nanami says.

“you’re already so in love with me you’re afraid i won’t call you?”

not a word comes from the other side of the phone.

then gojo adds “see you tonight. naked, i hope.”

gojo can hear nanami curse as he hangs up.

[sheinaxx]

When the song changes and your friends start squealing and pulling you to the dancefloor, you can't help but look back at Choso, slouched against the back of an otherwise empty booth with a clear line of sight towards you. His face looks tired, but here's a twinkle of excitement in his eyes — the adrenaline of accidentally bumping into you while pushing past the crowd to order a drink still coursing through his veins — and his hands are still tingling from how your waist felt under his fingertips as he moved to steady you and prevent you from falling. He can still feel the exchange of your clumsy stumble into him, his hand, your giggle, sorry, thank you, no problem, your name, and then his.

That was all it took for him to become completely enamoured with you, and he can't prevent his eyes following every step you take towards the busy mass of clubbers moving under colourful lights and the occasional flush of a smoke machine.

Oh, if you wanna dance, shimmy on time...

As you begin moving to the beat, slowly dropping your hips down, down towards the floor, his breath hitches at how your dress shifts to reveal more of your thighs.

Oh, if you wanna dance, see you in line...

You look to your right towards Choso as you bring your hands sensually from your neck to your chest, then up again and above your head, and you mouth the words as if speaking directly to him:

I'm the girl when you wanna get down...

And you don't miss the way he bites his lower lip as he moves to spread his legs and grab at his thigh, desperate to feel himself higher, but he can't take the risk, not when the place is absolutely packed like this.

There's electricity in the air now, and it connects you to him. The sound waves of a deep, deep sub bass ground you into the moment, so completely aware and willing and alive under Choso's gaze — you want him to know you want him, need him to live right now.

Just a little longer, keep it up now...

"Fuck it," he murmurs and takes a deep breath before getting up, moving to stand behind you on the dancefloor, holding your waist with both hands this time. You smile at the sensation, moving your hips to grind into his front.

"You wanna dance?" you ask over your shoulder, and because you want to look at him, you want to see if he really wants this as much as you do, so you spin around to face Choso, and there it is, the want, the hunger, the need in his eyes so clearly. It nearly makes you drop to your knees in front of him right there and then.

"Let's get out of here," he says and looks down at you through his lashes, stroking his fingers up to your ribs towards your chest. His soft touch makes you gasp and pull him closer by his belt, forcefully brushing his hardened cock against you through your clothes.

"Let's," you giggle, smiling as you lean up to catch him in a sweet yet feverish kiss.

[alieinthemorning]

Always Your Mother [Fushiguro Megumi]

Content: Implied /Referenced Character Death, No Curses AU, Adopted Fushiguro Megumi, Fluff, Angst, Fluff and Angst, Mother's Day, POV Second Person, Reader-Insert

Pronouns: None

Related to: An Addition to Change (Required Reading) | Fleeting Adolescences (Required Reading)

Header: @/nikki101pistar on Twitter

Reblogs: Let me know that you enjoy my work and want to see more, so don’t forget to like and reblog (and comment in the tags. I love seeing people’s rambles in the tags)!

This work’s concepts, plot and original characters are my own which means I do not allow any sort of creative theft nor do I allow my work to be entered into any sort of A.I. bots. Thank you for respecting my space and boundaries.

Today was Mother’s Day. Your first ever Mother’s Day’s. To a child that wasn’t biologically yours, nor were you sure if he even considered you something akin to a mother. You felt more like a live-in babysitter, not even a nanny. So, you didn’t really have your hopes up, but—

“How did you burn the water?” You could hear the scowl on Megumi’s face.  

“I didn’t burn it!” As well as the look of dismay that Satoru always had when Megumi said something harsh.

“It smells burnt.”

“Water can’t be burnt, Megumi.”

“And somehow you did it.”

You peeked around the corner, eyes widened at the scene before you. Simply put…it was a mess. There was food everywhere (yes, everywhere), there was black smoke coming from a pot on the stove, and both of them were covered head to toe in flour.

As much as you should have been frustrated with them (or at least exasperated, knowing that all of this needed to be cleaned sooner rather than later). But you couldn’t, you just couldn’t. 

“Can you not see the black smoke coming from that pot, Satoru? Of course, it’s brunt.”

Satoru jumped, head whipping around. “H-honey?” His eyes flicked between you, and the mess. “Now, before you get mad—” 

Megumi hopped off the footstool he was standing on, rushing to your side. “See! Even mom agrees! Only Satoru is dumb enough to burn water!” 

You froze. Satoru gasped. Megumi looked between the two of you. 

He pulled back. “...oh, do you…do you not want me to call you mom?”

You dropped to your knees, meeting him at eye level. “I was just surprised, is all. I’m…I’m actually really happy that you called me ‘mom’, Megumi.” 

“Really? So, I can keep calling you mom?” Your heart hurt at the tears that were gathering in his eyes.

You smiled, opening your arms to him. “Of course, baby.” 

Once his little arms wrapped around you as best as they could, all of your fears and doubts from the morning washed away. You were an important figure in Megumi’s life. Someone he felt close enough to call “Mom”. 

Someone who he loved. 

“So…” Satoru started, but Megumi immediately shut him down. 

“No.”

He chuckled. “Had to try it.”

You and Megumi were still not talking. You had a fight, or rather, Megumi was upset with you for interfering in his life. However, you couldn’t just not. You were called to pick him up last week for fighting (although it was more akin to straight up beating people up). You tried to talk to him in the car about it, but he just kept shutting you down.  

You didn’t understand, but he refused to help you understand.

You didn’t need to worry about it, but how could you not when he was bruised and bloody. 

It was none of your business. 

But you thought he was your son…unless that changed with time as well. 

“Leave me alone!” 

The force behind the door slam caused the car to rock harshly, but that didn’t shake you because—

“He called me by my name…” How long had it been since he’d used your actual name? When did it change? Just now or long before? 

Your hands tighten around the steering wheel. You slumped forward, breath catching in your throat. 

You were trying your best. You really were.

…but maybe you weren’t

Maybe he would have been better off with actual parents, not two young adults who don’t know what a good parent even was. 

Maybe you’re the reason why he’s like this. 

Yes…

You were the problem. 

You decided to stay out of sight for Mother’s Day. Much to Satoru’s chagrin, but he knew not to push you or Megumi, so he let the two of you be.

For now.

Mother’s Day became a simpler affair over the years. A card, flowers or chocolate, and maybe a night out with the family. Slowly, but surely, Mother’s Day was just becoming the second Sunday in May for you again. 

“Sorry for not getting you anything today, mom.” Megumi apologized as he approached you as you were lounging on the couch. 

You waved him off. “It’s fine. You coming home to me every day is enough.” 

He smiled, moving to leave, but you grabbed his wrist. “That doesn’t mean that you don’t have to pay the tax.” 

He groaned, but leaned down regardless. “Why do we still do this…”

“Because I said so.” You gave him a peck on the check. “Now go to your room, and get a good night’s rest, young man.”

He chuckled. “Yes, mom. I love you.”

“I love you too, Megumi.”

What was Mother’s Day without a child?

Today was the second Sunday in May.

Just a day before you lost him.

:)c (even more ominous than usual)

I wonder if we'll see each other again on Father's Day.

Ko-Fi | Commission | Masterlist

[frankenjoly]

Drabble ask 9 👀👀

inuokko + Character A pulling Character B into a silent hug, fingers stroking through their hair, soft words of comfort falling from their lips. Character B clutching onto Character’s A shirt, tear-stained cheeks buried on their chest; breathing heavily into the fabric (aka: post-shibuya reunion)

Yûta already knew what he was going to see when looking at Toge. And yet, seeing him there, bandaged and missing an arm, their heart skipped a beat not in the good sense.

“Inumaki-kun… Toge…” Approaching came slowly, as if afraid that walking a tad bit faster would wreak havoc and separate them. As if the whole scene was nothing but a mirage and Yûta would wake up back in the room they used to occupy when bunking with Miguel, half the world away while everyone he cared about ended up hurt or worse. “I--” Should have gotten here earlier, maybe. Because, sure, Yûta was no knight in shining armor despite how quickly he had gotten the special grade status back. But still, what was so much power good for if they were of no help when it mattered?

“Yûta.” Toge didn’t say anything else with words, but signed a very clear ‘Come here’ even with just one arm, then extended that same arm as an invitation.

Needless to say, Yûta instantly took it by changing approaches, crossing the distance between them and basically tackling Toge on accident. There were no sounds of pain coming from him, only a few giggles as he ended up sitting on the floor while Yûta wrapped his arms around his body and buried his own face on their friend’s chest like he still needed to feel his heartbeat to be fully sure everything was real.

“Yûta…” That was barely a whisper, which came at the same time Yûta felt Toge’s hand on his head, playing with the black strands of hair almost casually. And then there it came, a waterfall of relieved tears from both sides.

(Also on ao3.)

[rabbitcyclops]

short little fic (ノω<。)ノ))☆.。

"I used to sing..."

"What was that?" Jogo looked up from the landscape before them, the gentle glimmer of the sun on the waves below were almost hypnotizing. His head, resting on one of his hands, slightly turned towards his company as he looked to the side.

"I-I u-sed to-" Kuro attempted to repeat himself, but his tongue - what was left of it- couldn't seam to curl properly. He never spoke of what had happened to him, not to Jogo or Hanami or even Geto. But there was a story to be told behind his strange circumstances, why they found him inside a cursed amulet, why it existed in the first place. Only he could tell that story, but for that he had to speak.

Before Kuro could attempt to talk again, Jogo interrupted. “Don't force it…” He could see the frustration steadily growing inside Kuro but decided not to say anything. Jogo was worried, yes, but wouldn’t be caught admitting it out loud.

The problem is, of all things he lost, his voice was the one that hurt him the most. Even with faded memories, he remembers a time when he used to project songs in the moonlight to scare the townspeople. The way whispers and rumors grew around haunted wells and dark shrines, the countless ghost stories he spent his nights performing. But now his lullabies are gone, erased by the time sealed away in that horrible place and his voice was cut away from him, leaving a raspy wreck behind. He can’t sing, let alone talk properly with his friends. He spent weeks trying to even start making sounds again, and don’t even get me started on names!

Kuro buried his head in his arms, letting out a mediocre grunt of frustration. He had almost forgotten that he wasn't alone until he felt headted fingertips touching his back. Kuro shifted his head to look at the sea and then at Jogo, the deep oranges and reds of the sky reflecting on his eye. 

“At least they found me” he thought.