#mochi feet

[writingouthere]

singledad!Sukuna x neighbor!reader-Sukuna and Yuuji really want you to join their family! role reversal from my other series, think this will just be a one-shot though. Yuuji is Sukuna's brother but he's raised him since he was a baby and Yuuji calls him dad.

cw: Sukuna is manipulative and also a murderer but everyone's happy and you're both aware so it's okay. this is really just fluff.

"I....want you to be my mommy?"

Sukuna scowled as Yuuji looked more confused than ever.

"No, no that is not what you're saying kid. You're just going to tell her about how the other kids' mommies on the playground make you feel left out."

"But they don't, Megumi's mommy always gives me a snack when I'm hungry!"

"That's not his mommy, that's Megumi's daddy," Sukuna corrected, wondering if this was just a hopeless endeavor. He could have easily followed a plan this simple when he was four, but Yuuji was too soft. This was what happened when you raised a kid in a stable, loving environment. They lost the ability to go for the jugular when needed.

"But Megumi's daddy calls him mommy?" Sukuna didn't hold back his groan. You were going to be coming back from your morning walk any minute. He didn't have time for Yuuji to not get basic directions or to explain the dynamics of that Gojo family.

"Look when we go out there, just look sad and I'll handle the rest."

"But I'm not sad, I'm happy. We're going to the park and Megumi's mommy is bringing mochi today!"

"Shit kid, do you want a mom or not?" Sukuna asked, trying not to roll his eyes as be bent down to snap on the velcro straps on Yuuji's light up sneakers.

"I don't need a mom, I have you," Yuuji said. He looked uncharacteristically defiant and Sukuna couldn't help feeling proud of his little brother.

It had been touch and go when Yuuji was a baby. Sukuna had still been a kid himself and they didn't have any money and Yuuji's mom was even crazier than Sukuna's. Their father nowhere to be seen. Since Sukuna and Uraume had spread the pieces of his corpse around the city.

Sukuna pushed these memories aside and ruffled Yuuji's hair. "I know you don't need one, we only need each other." Yuuji nodded, his little head moving with all his conviction. "But it might be nice, right?"

Yuuji seemed thoughtful before finally biting his lip and looking down at his sneakers. He tapped them, making the red and black lights flash.

"She's really nice, I like her."

"I like her too," Sukuna said and he heard the sound of your sneakers slapping against the tiled hallway. "So let's go and look sad, okay?" Yuuji nodded, determined now and Sukuna grabbed his backpack before the two brothers went out into the hall.

You were just taking your keys out of your bag and you turned to the brothers, a smile on your face. "Good morning gentlemen, it's nice to see you. Heading out?"

That was when you noticed Yuuji's downturned expression. Sukuna saw your face shift into one of concern and he resisted a smirk.

Sukuna cleared his throat and squeezed Yuuji's hand. Good boy. "We're heading out to the park, you know the one by the high school."

"Oooh, that's nice. You like that park, right Yuuji? You said it was the biggest one in the whole city," you crouched down so you could look Yuuji in the eye and Yuuji seemed to forget he was supposed to be sad for a minute because he jumped up and down, the lights of his shoes flashing in the dim hallway.

"Yeah, it has the best swings too!" You ooohed and aawed appropriately while Sukuna tried not to smack his head against the wall. Maybe he and this kid weren't related after all, fuck.

Yuuji seemed to notice his expression because he stopped jumping to look down at feet. He put out his lower lip and used the tip of one of shoes to mess with a scuff mark on the linoleum. It would have made a more pathetic visage if his shoes weren't still lit up.

"Yuuji," you said, coming closer so you could kneel on the ground in front of the boy. The sight of you on your knees did something to Sukuna, but he pushed it aside to see what the brat had in mind. So far, he wasn't impressed with the performance. "Is something wrong?"

"It's just," Yuuji let out a sad sigh that wouldn't get him a gig in a car commercial. "Megumi and his mommy will be there and it makes me feel sad because all the other kids have mommies and I don't." God, there was no way you could be buying this, Sukuna looked at you and saw that your eyes looked a little watery.

Huh, look at that. Maybe he wouldn't have to kick the kid out, after all.

"I'm sorry Yuuji, that must be hard," you said and you reached out and swiped out where Yuuji had even managed to shed a tear. Sukuna felt so proud. "But I know that your dad is really excited to take you and the two of you are going to have so much fun!"

"Could you come too?" Yuuji asked and you bit your lip. Yuuji looked up and batted his little doe eyes at you. "It would make me really happy if you came with us. We could all have fun together."

"I wouldn't want to intrude-"

"It wouldn't be intruding," Sukuna cut in. "If you're busy though no worries, I know we'll have fun just the two of us. Right, Yuuji?"

Yuuji bit his lip and Sukuna could tell he was torn between showing how excited he was to spend time with his dad and being 'sad' so you would join them.

You looked between the two before seeming to come to some kind of decision. "If you don't mind waiting while I change, I'd be happy to join you two. Should I bring anything?"

"I think we're all set. We'll wait outside for you," Sukuna said and Yuuji went up and gave you a big hug that you returned.

Sukuna took Yuuji outside to wait for you, the kid occupying himself with a mostly washed away hopscotch chalk sketch. Sukuna alternated between watching him and texting Uraume who was claiming to be over him and his nonsense. Sukuna would take it more seriously if Uraume hadn't been saying that for going on twenty years. He knew they loved him, fucking sap.

Soon, but not soon enough, you came bounding down the stairs. A scarf tied around your neck, your turtleneck exposed by the open top button of your coat. He couldn't keep letting you be single, looking all pretty like that. He was too greedy for that.

Besides, looking the way you did and knowing your big heart, it was just a matter of time before some nice loser tricked you into settling with them and he just couldn't have that. The idea of you taking someone else home to your warm apartment with it's million throw blankets and a cookie jar, an actual cookie jar, he was convinced you kept stocked up just for Yuuji, made him want to commit another murder.

"Ready?" you asked and Sukuna nodded while Yuuji took your hand in his right and Sukuna's in his left.

"Let's go!"

Yuuji's enthusiasm was contagious and the two of you chatted all the way to the park. Sukuna saw some people shoot you all looks as you walked. Sukuna was used to people viewing him with suspicion, even fear. His tattoos, dyed hair and general demeanor making people cross the street to avoid him. Something about you and Yuuji seemed to balance him out though and people reacted as if they were just looking at a cute family going out on a Saturday.

You didn't seem to notice either way and just continued talking to Yuuji about some new anime for kids Sukuna had probably had to suffer through but hadn't retained any memory of.

As soon as you all got to the park, Yuuji took off with barely a good-bye. You seemed concerned and Sukuna bumped your shoulder with his. "Don't stress, he just sees the Fushiguro kid over there. See, they're already fucking around."

He pointed to where Yuuji was chasing around a scowling dark haired boy the same age as him. Sukuna didn't buy the scowl for a second.

He had once run into the kid and his weird dads at the grocery store and the kid had scolded him when he figured out Yuuji wasn't with him. Sukuna would have knocked the kid down a peg if he wasn't actually four years old and if his 'mommy' didn't low key give him the creeps. Sukuna was pretty sure he wasn't the only person guilty of homicide currently at this playground.

"That's so cute," you cooed and Sukuna nodded along while he took you over to some picnic tables. Unfortunately one of them was already occupied.

"Aww if it isn't Sukuna. How nice it is to see your lovely face on a Saturday morning!"

"Gojo."

Sukuna was ready to leave it there but then the bastard got up and walked over. His partner continued sipping on a large cup of boba, watching from his seat although he gave you a little wave.

"Who is this, new girlfriend?" Gojo asked tilting down his sunglasses to look you up and down.

You laughed and introduced yourself while Megumi's parents did the same. Gojo grabbed your hand when you held it out and kissed the back of it, his lips curved into a smile even as he lingered, his fingers clearly holding onto where your pulse would be. Sukuna moved closer to you and put a hand around your waist, the gesture a clear sign for the other man to back off which Sukuna knew Gojo understood because the bitch fucking smiled at him.

Sukuna didn't necessarily take any of Gojo's flirtations seriously. He flirted with every mom and dad on the playground, including him when they first met. He'd even seen him flirt with the guy who worked the ice cream truck so egregiously the kid had looked on the verge of passing out. His partner never seemed bothered and Sukuna wondered if he was just that secure in the relationship or if he hoped someone would finally come along and get the annoying man away from him.

As usual though, Gojo lost interest quickly and went back to his husband who didn't say anything as Gojo lay across his lap like some kind of housecat.

"There are children here," Sukuna said. Mostly out of spite and not jealousy that the two of you weren't curled up like that.

"Don't be homophobic," Gojo said and you snorted before looking innocent when Sukuna shot you a look.

"Alright, let's go see what Yuuji's up to." Sukuna went along with your excuse, mostly just because he liked the feeling of your hand in his. The two of you wandered closer to the playground where Megumi and Yuuji were currently engaged in a game with some other kids that Sukuna couldn't have possibly guessed the subject of.

The kids alternated running around the large structure, disappearing into tunnels, jumping down to hide underneath slides and behind climbing walls. Every time Yuuji popped back up to view he would wave and call out to you both. Sukuna still felt a little warm whenever the kid called him dad and the look you gave him after made him feel caught.

"So, I can see why Yuuji was so sad those morning. Megumi's parents are just vicious monsters," you said and Sukuna was so taken aback he knew his expression didn't hide it well. You smiled and swung your hand that was still in his, turning so you could look at him.

"I don't think that's what the issue was," Sukuna managed and you nodded.

"Right, it must have been because he's so lonely," you said before the two of you were interrupted by the sound of children's ecstatic laughter. You both looked to where Yuuji was now being chased by an entire horde of children.

"I'm the curse, you have to catch me," he yelled out and the other children screamed and laughed as they tried to grab him. Yuuji had never had a hard time making friends and that was very evident in the way he got kids of all ages, even the quiet ones to join in on his game.

"You can have friends and still be lonely," Sukuna argued and you gave him just the softest look. It wasn't fair for you to see through his schemes and still look at him like that.

"Are you lonely, Sukuna?" You got closer to him, your hand still got in his and you were so warm. "Maybe I should come home with you, then?"

Sukuna couldn't have stopped himself from kissing you even if he wanted to, which he didn't. He let go of your hand so he could cup your face in both of his palms. You moaned your approval into his mouth and he responded by nipping your upper lip, pulling you up to meet him as he leaned down to kiss you. Sukuna was about to risk another arrest by taking you right here in the park before a familiar voice called out to the both of you.

"Hey now, there's children here."

Sukuna turned to give the infuriating dumbfuck a piece of his mind when you distracted him by pulling him back to you and giving him a quick peck on the lips. He could leave the fight with Gojo for another day, he supposed. He knew he'd win anyway.

You're smiling and you look so happy and Sukuna doesn't feel the least amount of guilt in getting you here. Even if you knew it was a trick.

Although.

Did this mean you knew that all those times he was "stuck at work" and needed someone to watch Yuuji were a lie too? Or that he actually could cook and the one time he set the building fire alarm off had been because he started an actual fire and not just him burning dinner and two of them didn't actually need you to invite them to dinner so much? Did you also know that your radiator hadn't just stopped working randomly but he had broke it, knowing you would call him because your super never answered, and when he said a part was still missing and you would just have to stay the night at his and Yuuji's place-

Sukuna looked at you more closely and you just kept smiling.

As Yuuji called for the two of you to come help him and Megumi on the swings, Sukuna wondered if he had ever trapped you, even once. Or if you had just let him catch you.

Watching you push Yuuji as the boy screamed for you to go "higher, higher!" he decided he didn't care. Fuck, it might just be better. Knowing you were maybe as crazy as he was.

shout out to the dad at the park today who had the audacity to play with his toddler and have a cute dog at the same time.

also I liked the end of this so much I may just write a prequel of Sukuna and reader taking turns gaslighting the other into a relationship, we'll see.

Edit: wrote the prequel, here!

[hoshigray]

hello, lovely! is it okay to request a short fic wherein gojo’s pregnant wife (y/n) stole his kikufuku? thank u! (missing soft gojo hours 😭)

𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: omg stoooop this is so cute and sweet, what!?

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Gojo x pregnant afab/fem! reader - tooth-rotting fluff - pet names (angel, baby, stars and moon, sweetheart) - Gojo being a big crybaby over sweets - so soft, i was smiling while writing, hehe~.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.1k

THUD!

“…!” You jolt, immediately looking to the entrance of the living room to see your husband. “Gojo! You okay?”

The white-haired man stands still with a gawked expression, eyes covered by his black blindfold with his usual Jujutsu Tech attire, and you can assume the noise came from the souvenir bags he dropped to the floor.

“…Y/n, my angelic stars and moon,” he finally speaks after a few seconds of silence, and you can see his lips quiver with trembling hands. “Is…Is that my last kikufuku?” 

If there is one thing Gojo loved more than anything other than you, it would be his undying love for sweets! You could never find him without any at his disposal; he’d have a bunch of lollipops in his pockets, be licking popsicles or soft serves while monitoring his first years during their missions, or typically stop by a café and grab some crepes for dessert to take home and share with you. He’s known to have a childish heart, and sweets are his weakness!

His all-time favorite would be the mochi delicacy he often gets during his mission trips to Sendai, and he’s always sure to buy a whole box worth to make the long trip up North worth it. Kikufuku, the crushed edamame and cream-filled mochi, is Gojo’s favorite sweet to eat — you’re a witness to him happily stuffing his face with them lying on the couch after a hard day’s work. He’s the type to eat one every week until he can return to Sendai and get more. 

This week was the very last one he had saved, secured in the cold fridge for him to eat once he got home. And he wasn’t going to Sendai anytime soon, so he planned on treasuring and savoring it the moment he stepped inside and lay beside his pregnant partner to chill on this blissful spring evening.

He could never get over the sight of you whenever he came home. Gojo loved his partner so much that he swears he would burn the world if you commanded him to, which you knew is an exaggeration, but his love is true. The day he got on one knee and heard you say yes to his proposal was the happiest he’d ever been, sweeping you off your feet, putting you in your dream puffy white dress, and officially becoming the spouse of the strongest sorcerer in the jujutsu world! And now you were swole with his child!? Not even God could strike this man to calm him down of his glee.

You were sitting on the living room couch like you always did, waiting for your husband to return, wearing a black maternity one-piece that comfortably molded around your figure and a blue flannel shirt – his flannel – to keep you warm. Gojo came home with souvenirs to share and impress, a huge smile just from thinking about your reactions. 

However, the sight has him gasp dramatically loud and drop everything to the wooden floor, because he saw something in your hand, something that broke his heart noticing the green and white filling apparent from a bite on an undeniable white rice cake. 

You were eating the very last of his kikufuku…How could you!?

You blinked at him, then turned to the sweet in your hand, and the realization of what you were doing finally hit you. “Oh! I’m sorry, Satoru! I was feeling snacky.”

The tall man teeters to where you’re sitting, whining with every step. “So why didn’t you eat your snacks, sweetheart?”

��I don’t know?” You shrugged, licking bits of the edamame cream off your middle finger. “They didn’t seem like what I was craving for. I wanted something sweet, ya know? And I finished my ice cream two nights ago, so this was all I could find.”

“Yeah, but like,” you can tell his eyebrows were scrunched together even if the black material concealed his upper face. “That was my last one, baby! Plus, you could’ve texted me you’d eat it, or I could’ve stopped somewhere to grab you something sweet!”

“I know! But, you were very busy today; a big mission up in Kyoto and a meeting with Principal Yaga, sooo…” you squished the mochi gently, licking more of the filling coming out. “I didn’t wanna interrupt or bother you…”

“But stilllll~!”God, you were so cute when you cared for him, you almost made him forget the whole thing then and there. But you can’t hate the man for being a little upset, right? Gojo sighs and places his cheek on your belly. “Little booger, you hear what your momma is doing to me? So cruel~.”

You gasped. “Hey! Don’t say that to them!” Your free hand tries to yank him off your tummy by the hair, yet he doesn’t budge as he exclaims painfully. “What, are you saying the pregnant love of your life is some villain because they ate one of your sweets? As if I never caught you taking scoops of my favorite ice cream!? Have you no shame, Gojo Satoru!”

He swats your hand off his snowy hair, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Between you and Principal Yaga, there is a scarce few Gojo would allow to beat him up for his foolishness. He turns his head – still above the baby – to face you and releases a sigh. “I’m sorry, I was just really stoked I’d get to have that kikufuku; it’ll be a long while before I go get more…Ughhh.” Another sigh is exerted, and you can only shake your head with rolled eyes. He’s such a baby.

You bring his blindfold down to his chin to free the azure eyes he’s been hiding since this morning, and his hair falls from its spiky appearance. Then, you separate the mochi into two and push one to his lips, “You happy now?” You say with a grin. “I’m sorry, but I wanted to give these a try. Besides, we’ll have a little one to look after soon; wouldn’t it be nice for them to know what their father likes to snack on from time to time?”

Now, how in the world could Gojo still be upset with that logic? Being a father is a foreign concept he’s accepting with open arms, sharing the experience with the person he values and cherishes the most. To have a child with you is the highest honor of all for him. And imagining his small family happy and eating sweets together under his care makes his cheeks show a subtle shade of pink.

He smiles as he accepts the piece of the rice cake, chuckling when you flick his nose playfully. “You’re so sweet, angel.”

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ✩ dividers by @/benkeibear.

[kateschi]

the first lean

synopsis: shoto faces his fears as he holds your daughter for the first time.

pairing: timeskip!todoroki shoto x f!reader

the hospital room is silent, save for the soft hum of the overhead lights and the occasional shuffle of feet in the hallway.

you lie back on the bed, exhaustion pulling at your limbs, but your gaze stays fixed on shoto.

he sits in the chair beside you, his hands on his knees, his posture tense.

his expression is unreadable, but you can see the hesitation in the way his fingers flex, the faint furrow in his brows.

the bassinet sits just a few steps away, the faintest of movements stirring from within it.

the nurse approaches, a bundle of soft fabric cradled in her arms. “are you ready to hold your daughter?” she asks, her voice gentle.

shoto doesn’t answer right away. his eyes flicker to you, then to the tiny bundle in the nurse’s arms.

“I…I don’t know if I should,” he says finally, his voice low. “what if I hurt her?”

your heart aches at the vulnerability in his words, and you reach out, your hand brushing his arm. “shoto,” you say softly, “you won’t. she’s safe with you.”

he hesitates, his jaw tightening, but eventually, he nods. the nurse steps closer, carefully transferring your baby into his arms.

shoto’s hands tremble slightly as he takes her, cradling her against his chest. for a moment, he just stares, his expression shifting as he takes her in.

she’s tiny, her cheeks round and soft, her little hands peeking out from the swaddle. shoto’s breath catches as she stirs, her face scrunching slightly before relaxing again.

“she’s…chubbier than I expected,” he murmurs, almost to himself. “like those old pictures my mom kept of me.”

a small laugh escapes you, though your voice is tired. “she takes after you, then.”

his lips twitch in a faint smile, but his focus doesn’t waver. he adjusts his hold slightly, his movements careful and deliberate, as if she might shatter with too much force.

your little girl shifts again, her head turning just slightly until her cheek rests against his chest. when she leans into him, her tiny hand brushing the fabric of his shirt, shoto freezes.

the room feels impossibly still as his expression crumbles.

his eyes glisten, tears slipping down his cheeks silently as he stares at her. “she knows me,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “she leaned towards me.”

you watch him, your throat tightening at the sight. “of course she does,” you say gently.

shoto doesn’t respond immediately. his gaze remains locked on the tiny face nestled against his chest, his tears slipping silently onto his cheeks.

“I didn’t think…” he starts, then pauses, swallowing hard. his grip on her adjusts, his thumb brushing lightly against her swaddle. “I didn’t think I’d feel like this. like nothing else matters except her.”

your heart swells at his words.

even in his hesitance, in the fear he doesn’t know how to hide, you see the depth of his love. “that’s because she’s your world now,” you murmur. “our world.”

finally, he looks at you, his eyes shining, though his expression is soft. “you’ve been my world for a long time,” he says, his voice barely audible. “she’s just…an extension of that.”

your brows lift at his words, and you give him a faint smirk despite the tiredness weighing you down.

“getting a bit poetic on me, huh? must be all those sleepless nights coming up with baby names.”

shoto lets out a breath that might almost be a laugh, though his focus stays on your baby.

“you’re the one who vetoed all my suggestions,” he murmurs, carefully brushing the soft blanket back to get a better look at her tiny face.

“because you wanted to name her after food,” you retort, a little laugh escaping you. “we’re not naming our kid mochi, shoto.”

“she does look a little like one,” he muses, his lips twitching into a rare, lopsided smile.

you can’t argue with that. her round cheeks and delicate features are undeniably adorable, her resemblance to a sweet dumpling undeniable—though that might just be the exhaustion talking.

still, you find yourself relaxing in the warmth of the moment.

shoto’s eyes shift to you after a beat, his expression softening. he leans forward slightly, adjusting her in his arms as he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, the words so quiet they almost don’t reach you.

your smile falters. “sorry? for what?”

“for the pain,” he says, his lips brushing your skin again as he pulls back. “for what you went through to bring her into the world. I…I hate that I couldn’t do anything.”

the vulnerability in his voice tugs at you, and you lift a hand to rest it against his cheek. “shoto,” you say softly, “you were here. that’s everything I needed. and look at her—she’s worth all of it.”

his jaw tightens, his mismatched eyes darting back to her. she stirs again, a tiny hand poking out from the swaddle, and he immediately adjusts his hold, his movements so careful it’s almost comical.

“still,” he murmurs. “I don’t think I could watch you go through that again.”

a surprised laugh escapes you, though it’s weak from exhaustion. “what are you saying? no more kids?”

he looks at you seriously, his lips pressing into a firm line. “I’m saying,” he begins slowly, “that I can’t see you in pain like that again. one baby is enough.”

you roll your eyes, though the tenderness in his words makes your chest ache. “you’re being dramatic.”

“maybe,” he admits, his lips twitching in that familiar, understated smile. “but I mean it. she’s enough for me.”

your laugh is softer this time, more of a breath than a sound. “let’s see how you feel when she starts asking for a sibling,” you tease, though you know his resolve runs deeper than he’s letting on.

she shifts in his arms then, letting out a tiny noise that could almost be a sigh.

both of you freeze, staring at her in wonder as she settles again, her little fingers curling against shoto’s shirt.

you meet his eyes, feeling a warmth that goes beyond the exhaustion and the ache in your body. this is shoto, in his quiet, steady love, holding both your worlds in his arms.

you lean against the pillow, letting your eyes drift closed, secure in the knowledge that this moment—this new chapter—belongs to all three of you.

kofi — navigation — masterlist

do not copy, translate, or plagarize

[alexiroflife]

jjk men reactions to you saying they're annoying you first the first time...

gojo, geto, toji, sukuna

💫💫💫

satoru gojo: you're overstimulated. your reports from last week's missions are due tomorrow, and you had forgotten about them because you had to help Nanami with training a few of the first years over the past couple days. while you despise the thought of having to sit down and write those reports, you have no choice but to knock them all out tonight.

tonight, however, satoru happens to want to come over to keep you company. you comply, but something in the back of your head tells you that it's not the best idea: especially since satoru is infamous for posing as a distraction in any and all environments, even more so when you're within his vicinity.

you're sitting at your desk with your knee bouncing, head in your hand as you listen to satoru talk endlessly about the new mochi stand he found while he was out today. your pen stills on your paper, mind flipping between your boyfriend's voice and the work ahead of you. you're already agitated that you even have to be doing this so late at night, and satoru has either ignored or completely forgotten the last two warnings you gave him to let you finish your work peacefully.

you can feel your patience wearing paper thin, brows furrowed until they hurt and your teeth sinking into your gums. your last straw is when you hear him stop talking and shuffle across the room to you, lean figure bending over to peer over your shoulder boredly. "are you almost done yet?" he groans, head knocking against yours.

you snap. you move your head away with a frustrated sigh and look up at him with irritated eyes. satoru sits up suddenly, playfulness dropping from his face.

"satoru! for the last time, leave me alone! god, you're being so annoying," you shout, turning rigidly back around to stare at your paper harshly.

the blue eyed sorcerer beside you goes silent, eyes wide as he processes the fact that you've just yelled at him and said he was annoying you. he, your boyfriend, was bothering you.

do you hate him now? are you going to leave him forever? is there another man?

satoru's ever so dramatic with his dejection, his hands lowering slowly to his sides as he stares at you with a blank face, yet tortured eyes. he breathes in slowly, turning on his feet. "alright," he tries to accept casually, though you can hear the hurt in his voice. "i... guess i'll go home then."

you close your eyes and exhale. "satoru, you don't need to go home, i just need some quiet so i can focus."

"no, it's fine. i get it. i didn't mean to get in your way, i'm sorry," he shakes his head, dispirited. you hear the drop in his tone in comparison to how bubbly he had sounded just moments ago, and you immediately feel guilty.

you turn around in your chair, watching satoru linger in your doorway with a sad frown, head hanging low and hand on the rim of the door as he looks at you with big eyes. you scoff to yourself, opening up your arms and rotating your desk chair around to face him. “come here, you big baby.”

satoru trudges over to you pitifully, steps dragging before he gets on his knees before you and plops his head in your lap, arms wrapping around your waist. you roll your eyes and run your fingers through his hair and down his back. “so dramatic.”

“thought you were gonna abandon me,” he mumbles into your waist, voice muffled. you lifts his head to peer up at you through white locks with a small pout. “i didn’t know you found me so annoying.”

“satoru, i’m already annoyed because of this assignment, it was just that you constantly talking after i asked you not to made it worse,” you tell him softly, smoothing your thumb over his check.

his sighs and nods, eyes lowering in understand. “i’m sorry, baby,” he apologizes again, sincerely. “i just get so excited around you. and i want to spend time with you.”

“i want to spend time with you too, toru, that’s why you just gotta let me get this done and then i’m all yours. twenty more minutes, i promise.”

he kisses your thigh. “okay, of course.” he stands, leaning over to peck your lips, then once more. “i’ll be back, i’ll run to get you some snacks. that’ll keep me busy so i’m not distracting you for a bit, yeah?”

you hum. “thank you, baby.”

he squishes your cheeks up in his hands and kisses you again. “alright, good luck,” he grins. “and please don’t yell at me again, i’ll die.”

geto suguru: you love suguru with your entire spirit, but sometimes, he can be so judgmental.

he’s not aggressive with his comments, which aren’t even necessarily horrible within themselves, but it’s the frequency to which he does it and with no awareness of how the small things he says can make you feel.

it feels like there are times when he can’t comprehend the fact that there are certain things the two of you differently, different ways you go about conflicts, and even different interests or standpoints you withhold. while there aren’t many, suguru often finds a way to make the differences you do have seem endless when he’s saying something unintentionally condescending about the color of nail polish you choose to wear.

today, you’re on your period. you’re in pain, uncomfortable, and in a rather foul mood. you hole up into your room, curled up on your bed when suguru returns from the store, rapping gently on the frame of your door.

“hey, i’m back. got you some pain medicine,” he smiles and you grunt wordlessly. suguru chuckles, making his way over to you and setting the grocery bag onto the foot of your bed as he removes the contents. he leans over to rub your knee, craning his neck to catch sight of your face. “how we feeling?”

“like shit,” you hiss and he coos.

“poor baby.”

“sugu, i know i just asked you to get me crackers, but could you also run into the kitchen and grab the chocolate spread?”

suguru tilts his head in amusement. “you want chocolate spread with your crackers?”

“don’t question me, just do it please.”

he smiles. “yes ma’am,” he stands up straight to head for the door. “it’s in the fridge?”

“no the pantry.”

he stills, and though you’re not looking at him you can tell he hasn’t moved. “the pantry?”

you turn around and look up at him. “…that’s what i said.”

he purses his lips downward. “oh,” he says indifferently.

you know what’s coming when he makes that face, and you can feel your agitation rising. “what?”

“nothing, it’s just… I would’ve put it in the fridge.”

you glare at him for a long moment, tension laced silence rising in the air. “why is that?” you ask with an attitude.

suguru gives you a face when he picks up on your tone. “um… well since you already opened the container, you should put it in the fridge to keep ants from coming in.”

you press your lips together tightly. “oh really.”

“…yeah?”

you scoff, turning back over so your back faces your boyfriend. “you’re so annoying with that shit, sometimes,” you grumble under your breath.

“what did you just say?”

“i said i hate when you do that, it’s annoying,” you repeat loudly.

suguru’s completely perplexed, stunned that you would even say those words to him. he inches back into the room, brow raising. “what are you talking about, (y/n)?”

“nothing. go away.”

the dark haired man has never been immediately moves to the other side of your bed so he can look you in the eye. “don’t do that. look at me so i can talk to you.” you sigh loudly, flickering your hardened eyes up to the shaman. he sits down beside you and looks down at your face. “what’s wrong? what did i do?”

you shrug harshly, looking away again. “i don’t know, suguru, it just seems like you’re always trying to prove that your way is better than mine,” you say, vexed. “you judge the smallest things i do and it’s getting old.”

geto furrows his brows. “i don’t judge you.”

“you do, you just don’t realize.”

“then help me realize,” he says earnestly, hand landing on your arm gently. “please.”

you look into his hazel eyes and see that he is being genuine and you huff. “well, just now you had to ask me if the container was in the fridge or pantry so you could prove that you would’ve done something different,” you explain. “and other times, you’ll do the same thing in different circumstances and just judge my choices.”

suguru caresses your arm softly, moved by your revelation. “i didn’t realize i did that,” he tells you, his voice gentler.

“you do. sometimes it’s like nothing i do is right,” you frown, and suguru’s swimming in guilt.

“that’s not true, babe. not at all, of course i don’t think that about you.”

you soften slightly under his tone of honesty. “you don’t?”

“no, (y/n). and i never would. i guess sometimes i just talk without thinking. but for all the times i’ve made comments to make you feel like that, i’m sorry,” he apologizes earnestly. “the last thing i want to do is make you feel like i’m trying to be better than you.”

“…well you do…” you murmur, losing the grit that encouraged you to call him out in the first place.

“i see now,” his hand slides up to your waist. “i’ll try to catch myself more, okay? i won’t make you feel that way again as long as i can help it.”

“you’re making it hard for me to stay mad at you.”

he laughs softly. “that’s the goal, baby. i don’t like when you’re upset with me.”

you wave your hand around, relenting your frustration. “okay, fine, fine. i forgive you, now can you please go get that chocolate from the pantry?”

suguru stands, leaning over to kiss you cheek and brush your hair from your face. “will do.”

toji fushiguro: where to begin with this mf… toji’s forgetful. he has no concept of planning ahead or structure, leading him to constantly let things you tell him slip his mind. he’s just as unorganized with his thoughts as he is with his finances, and it drives you insane.

you’re sitting at the dining table scrolling through your phone, legs resting on toji’s lap as he sits in the chair next to you, rubbing your shins mindlessly while he goes through his messages.

you see an advertisement for a movie you’ve been telling toji that you want to see, which reminds you that a week ago you told him to order the tickets so that the seats wouldn’t fill up. the movie is in two days, and something tells you to check for a third time this past week to see if he has done what you asked.

you look at your boyfriend’s dull expression, screen light illuminating his face. “toji?” he hums distractedly. “did you get the tickets?”

“hm?” he still doesn’t look at you and you purse your lips, putting down your phone.

“the tickets.”

he looks up, brow quirking and lip curling. “what tickets?”

you can’t be serious.

“the tickets that I’ve been telling you to get for days? for the movie?”

he stares at you for a long moment, silence enveloping the room. you’re normally very patient when it comes to toji’s nonsense, but at this point, you’re getting sick of it. does he really not care to listen to anything you ask him?

he clicks his tongue, sniffing before looking back down at his phone and smirking in amusement. “shit, nah, i keep forgetting. i’ll get ‘em later.”

you glare at him in disbelief. “are you kidding me toji?”

he picks up on your irritated tone and glances back up questioningly. “it’s not a big deal, i said I’ll get ‘em later.”

“you’ve been saying that for days.”

“and i’ll get it done, baby, relax.”

“don’t tell me to relax. you never listen to anything i say and you’re always waiting until the last minute to do everything,” you kick your legs off of his lap and his brows jump in surprise. “you get on my nerves, i swear.”

“well damn,” he snorts. “where is this coming from?”

“from you constantly not listening to anything i ask you to do,” you sneer.

“i listen to you, sweetheart.”

“clearly not, or else you would have bought the tickets already.” you stand abruptly. “whatever, I’m going to take a walk.” you go to move around him, but he grabs your wrist and keeps you still.

“uh uh, hold it, mouthy,” he pulls you back to him so that you’re standing over him with an angry expression. “i really got you worked up over this one, huh?”

“use your brain and figure it out yourself.”

he whistles, shaking his head and yanking you down into his lap. “so much sass.” you stumble a bit before stabilizing, folding your arms and looking the other way. “you won’t even look at me now?”

“fuck off.”

“you got some mouth there, girl, I didn’t know you had it in ya,” he wraps his large arms tightly around your waist.

“toji, you’re making me more irritated.”

“alright, alright, i hear ya,” he grumbles. “i’ve just been busy with these jobs, you know they take up all my focus.”

“you could stand to focus a little more on your girlfriend from time to time,” you mumble.

“i know, i’m sorry, doll. that’s my job,” he agrees, pecking the back of your neck. “hand me my phone, i can buy those tickets right now while you watch me.”

you murmur incoherently, grabbing his phone and slapping it into his open hand by your waist. “if all the good seats are gone, you’re dead.”

he smirks against your cheek. “you’re kinda hot when you’re pissed off.”

ryomen sukuna: sukuna is your irritation personified. it’s hard not to be agitated with him or down right pissed when he has no regard for most, if not all, human concepts of decency.

and he’s so crude, everything he says or does has you whipping your head around in public to ensure that the police aren’t nearby to hear.

you’re actually out grabbing food with him when you reach your limit. you’re standing in line, sukuna’s arms folded and face firm as you scan the menu. just then, a man bumps into him from his left, trying to squeeze past to get to the other side of the cafe.

sukuna’s eyes sharpen as he slowly turns to look down at the pesk who dared to touch him, eyes slim with fury as the pathetic man apologizes profusely upon seeing sukuna’s frightening gaze.

“touch me again, and it’s your life,” sukuna growls, watching the man scamper away quickly in fear. you watch the whole ordeal sternly, then look up at your boyfriend in awe.

“sukuna, what the fuck?” you hiss, and he looks down at you out of the corner of his eye.

“the bastard touched me,” he says, as though that is explanation enough to threaten a random stranger.

“you can’t just go around and threaten to kill people over every minor inconvenience!” you scoff. “especially when we’re out of the house?!”

“are you attempting to tell me what to do?”

“oh my god, i’m not doing this with you right now,” you clench your jaw. “telling you to abide by basic morals isn’t me trying to ‘tell you what to do.’”

“and you should be fully aware by now that i do not care in the slightest what rules you humans live by,” he says lowly, your conversation barely reaching above a murmur.

“oh wow, the great lord sukuna doesn’t care? what else is new,” you quip sarcastically, turning away, furiously.

sukuna’s brows pinch together. “wanna repeat that, brat?”

“no, dick,” you bite. “fucking irritating ass.”

sukuna steps into you, glowering over your small frame while you avoid his eyes. “who the hell are you talking to?”

“who else?”

the king of curses scrunches the corner of his nose. he’s never heard you speak to him with such boldness in your tone. he wants to be angrier that you’re stepping out of line, but he can’t help but feel somewhat thrilled by it.

he leans down to speak lowly into your ear as you stare ahead stiffly, irritation consuming your mind. “keep this up, and you’re gonna be in trouble when we get home.”

“trouble my ass. you won’t do shit.”

and now you’ve done it.

sukuna’s suddenly smirking darkly, moving to grip the back of your neck tightly. the two of you are at the end of the line, therefore no one is behind you to see him reach and grab you. you stiffen, eyes sliding up to his. his crimson red irises shining with nothing but bad intentions.

“you’re talking a lot of shit today, woman. hope you still think you can run your mouth when it’s stuffed full.”

he’s insufferable, you think to yourself as your stomach tingles with anticipation.

[miyaagis]

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ ‐I desire violently—and I wait. gojo satoru

political unions are means to strengthen a clan, and you were lucky enough to willingly accept his affections and give him an heir—a son. so, why does he need backup heirs from other women?

(sequel to 444)

explicit content‐mdni. ₊˚⊹ ⚝ clan head!gojo, wife+mom!reader, infidelity, hurt little comfort, angst, jealousy, gojo being a boy dad, unnamed three-year-old baby gojo, pet names (honey, love), mentions of breeding and pregnancy.

word c. ₊˚⊹ ᰔ a bit over 1,000

clan head gojo art inspo

the gojo estate had always been blessed with bright landscapes during winter.

gray skies blended seamlessly with the light colored buildings, graced by the light rain (even with monsoon season still months away) and a calm atmosphere brought by the cold mornings.

"fishie c'mere."

your son wiggled his little fingers inside the water of the fishpond, squealing in delight when a fish splashed next to him. the three-year-old turned to look at you, bright eyes shimmering with mirth and child-like wonder.

"kōhaku!"

still crouched next to the pond, he loudly repeated what he had been taught recently by his governess.

even at his young age, his curiosity for the world surrounding him seemed endless, constantly having the clan's nannies on their toes only to get his way with that charming smile he clearly inherited from satoru.

"is that my mochi!?"

the exaggerated gasp from your husband quickly caught the little boy's attention, searching for his dad by turning his head left and right.

satoru's grip around his son came from behind, his little sandals falling from his feet as he's thrown up in the air before landing safely in his father's arms.

"papa, look! kōhaku!"

your husband gasps, dangling the boy over the pond as they watched the fish swim, "woahhh! my son is so smart!"

the little boy giggled as satoru littered his chubby cheeks with kisses, getting thrown over his dad's shoulder as they made their way towards you.

"good morning, my love," he leaned down to peck your lips, smiling tenderly at you. "has the little squirt been giving you any trouble?"

"he woke up an hour ago" you sighed, and he could perfectly picture you handling the cranky boy all by yourself.

"mama, i'm hungry." your son whined, letting his head fall against satoru's shoulder as he pouted adorably. "tummy hurts."

"go wash up, I'll handle breakfast," seeing the tired look on your face, he knew he had to cut you some slack and do his part as a parent. "take as long as you need, sweetheart."

with a kiss on your temple and a thankful smile from you, he sent you back to your shared bedroom while he took your little one to the kitchen.

"c'mon, mochi. let's go make mama something yummy."

—

two hours earlier.

satoru felt the warm embrace of his mistress nuzzling against him, her arms wrapped around his middle, and their legs tangled together under the thick comforter.

the sun wasn't even up, but the birds already chirped loudly through the window.

her faint sigh caught his attention, pulling her closer by throwing her leg over his hip while caressing the smooth surface of her thigh. they didn't even bother with clothes the night before, cocooning against each other after falling limply on the bed.

small kisses had warmth blooming on her skin, the comforting heat shared between their nude bodies as they stayed cuddled together.

"again?"

the clear disbelief in her tone made him chuckle, grunting softly as he pulled half of her body on top of his.

"I have to make sure it takes."

she hummed and smiled sleepily, pressing her lips onto his as he nudged her bare folds with the crown of his shaft right before sinking in her warmth.

they both felt their bodies ease up in relief, soft sighs exchanged in between sloppy kissing as he lazily thrust inside her.

satoru kept his face nuzzled against her neck, breathing her in while his arms wrapped around her. eventually, his lips moved back to her mouth in need of intimacy, the languid strokes of their tongues matching the steady pace of their lovemaking.

it didn't take him long to feel his member twitch and throb, emptying another load of his seed inside the woman, murmuring sweet nothing's as his length softened and slipped out of her.

satoru found it easy to fall asleep again with his mistress in his arms.

—

the fabric of your robes rustled silently around your feet—which seemed glued to the floor, as you watched her exit the main house of the gojo estate after another meeting between the Gojo's and her own clan.

her eyes met yours, and her hand immediately went to her flat stomach, as if protecting it, which made you scoff. and it only worsened when your husband held her hand as he helped her descend the wooden stairs.

all you could offer was a blank, emotionless stare, your sleeping son carefully held in your arms with his face hidden in the crook of your neck.

her eyes went to him, and your instincts screamed at you to shield him from her. what else did she want from you? was she after your son as well?

satoru swiftly rushed his mistress towards the exit so he could go back to you, having seen your distress. once he met you at the entrance of your own home, his frame interrupted your stare-down with the woman.

"let's go inside, honey." his tone was calm and gentle, coaxing you to let the issue go and head inside, but you didn't move. "please?"

"have you fulfilled your part of the deal?"

the coldness of your gaze had your husband pouting like a kicked animal. he ached to reassure you of his love, but he was quickly running out of ways to prove it.

"yes, I have."

wordlessly, you turned around with your son cradled close to you, his little fingers clinging onto your robes and satoru right behind you.

"my love, I hold no feelings. you know this already."

his reassurance was of little to no use. how he expected you to accept him impregnating another woman was beyond you.

"it's a political union," he vehemently said, knowing he had to convince you that she'd never become a wife of his. he'd give her a child—a backup heir—in exchange for her clan's resources and political ties. "I hold no feelings. you are my wife and the mother of the gojo clan's heir."

after putting down your son in his bed, making sure his soft hair was out of his forehead and the blanket kept him warm, you finally met satoru's gaze back.

"I don't want to know anything about her existence. don't ever bring her to my home again."

satoru nodded eagerly, willing to promise anything in order to end your sour mood. "I won't."

your son's room went silent besides the small breaths of his as he slept, unaware of the conflict worming inside his own home.

"but I will be out of our home more often." satoru knew he had to be careful with his words, blue eyes watching your reaction closely. there was no way to make it hurt any less, and he was finding it harder to conceal the excitement brimming from him. "she's pregnant."

satoru had to make sure the mother of his unborn baby had everything she wanted—him included.

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

I WANT YOU CLOSER, CLOSER EVEN STILL ; SUGURU GETO

synopsis; in the midst of a rainshower, you run into your mysterious classmate.

word count; 6.1k

contents; suguru geto/reader, gn!reader, implied no curses au, fluffy summer vibes, forced proximity (my beloved <3), pining, very shoujo manga coded, vague allusions to sugu having a troubled background, (kind of same w reader), switching povs, gojo slander, stsg implications if you squint (my brand), he’s a sweet sweet boy and i love him :((

a/n; teen sugu reminds me a lot of the kind upperclassman type of otome game li… with secret emotional baggage that makes his route really hard to complete….. anyway i dedicate this fic to hit mobage jujutsu kaisen: phantom parade PLEASE bring sugu home to me please please please ple

geto looks beautiful in the rain. 

it’s an embarrassing first thought to have, as he rounds the corner and comes into view. a black head of hair, making you stop in your tracks, breathe in a gulp of humid air.

you can’t help it, though.

it’s raining. droplets ricochet against the sidewalk in an endless cadence, the sky above you blanketed by gray clouds; enveloping your city in a summery shadow, the scent of hot concrete and blossoming hydrangeas. everything smells of a blistering summer, youth in a bottle cap. tasty on your tongue.

those very same hydrangeas surround him, on all sides, framing his figure like a painting come to life — splotches of colour, flecks of purple and pink and blue, clashing with the gray sky and the black umbrella in his hand. he looks a little disheveled, hair a little frizzy, bangs sticking to his skin. oddly at peace. when his eyes meet yours, you see a flash of recognition — a tiny spark in the amber hue. 

you take that as your cue to move closer. 

he waits for you, always so patient, smiling as you look both ways before crossing the street — shoes hitting the concrete in a steady thud, thud, thud. a splash from the puddle you step in.

you’re in a good mood. veins flooding with sugar and buzzing with joy, raindrops sticking to your skin and the plastic bag in your hand, absently humming along to a song playing through your headphones. your clothes are soaked, but you’re smiling; swinging the bag of treats as you walk. bags of chips, colourful lollipops, bottles of ramune, clinking together for every step you take. enough to last you a couple weeks. in your good mood, you ended up stocking up on your classmates’ favorites — bouncing on the balls of your feet at the thought of giving them away, seeing their satisfied little expressions.

you even got something for gojo. he’ll have to fight for it, obviously, but you look forward to seeing his face light up when he takes a bite of the soft mochi.

(you like giving them things. it’s fun. it makes you feel like a normal high school kid.)

nothing can dampen your spirits right now. the entire world smells of rain, and hydrangeas, and apple blossoms from the backyards behind you. a scent that creeps into your bloodstream, sneaks into your breath. a smile grows on your lips — blooming even brighter when you step into your classmate’s orbit.

”hey!” you chirp, raising a hand up in greeting.

”hey,” geto echoes, voice honeyed and smooth, bringing a hand up to wipe at his forehead. wet from the humid air. ”out on a walk?”

with a smile, you lift the plastic bag, grabbing his attention. clasping it tightly, with your wet fingers. ”just went to get some snacks. you?”

”i wanted to get some fresh air,” he smiles. eyeing you up and down. ”did you forget your umbrella?” 

silently, he takes in your appearance. your breathing is a tiny bit laboured, and the flimsy, oversized hoodie you’re wearing is sticking to your skin. it’s all that protects you from the steady downpour; no umbrella to be seen. you look small, tilting your head up, meeting his gaze. he feels the beginnings of a smile play at his lips. exasperated. all you do is blink, seemingly unbothered, as if you aren’t straight on the road to catching a cold. you can be a little scatterbrained. 

maybe that’s why he can’t help but dote on you.

(that’s what satoru calls it, at least. suguru thinks it’s just called being nice — not like satoru would know anything about that.)

”oh. no, i didn’t forget.” you scratch at the back of your neck. ”just didn’t know it was going to rain.”

the sudden downpour gave you no time to prepare, heavy and abrupt — clouds obscuring the glowing sun in what felt like no more than a second. like someone high above flicked the light switch of the world. all you could do was pull your hood up, try to walk under whatever apple tree you came across. it didn’t help much, though. 

you shift your weight from one foot to the other, soles weighed down with dew. sort of sheepish.

geto chuckles, raspy and soft. the sound makes your heart skip a beat. ”didn’t you see the weather report?”

”well, it… just slipped my mind, i guess.”

silently, you avert your gaze. now you remember — yaga-sensei did mention that, didn’t he? you heard him say it. but you just forgot.

geto is laughing at you, a little, from within his eyes; at least that’s the impression you get. so you continue, eager to defend your honour. 

”it’s fine, though,” you assure him, smiling brightly. a sunny grin. ”i like the rain!”

geto raises an unimpressed brow, but the expression fades away just as swiftly — giving way to something softer. ”you’re heading back to the dorms, right?” he asks, continuing once you give him a slight nod. ”then we can share.”

you blink. one moment passes, then two. but geto only smiles, shifting his umbrella a little, hoping you’ll get the hint. silently beckoning you over. 

it makes you feel oddly flustered.

in truth, you and him aren’t particularly close. he’s nice to you, sure, but geto is nice to everyone. you’d like to call him a friend, but what do you actually know about him? not much. 

suguru geto is a bit of an enigma. a little mysterious. he’s polite, well-mannered, and he seems like the most normal of your classmates — but the bar is in hell, because you know for a fact geto isn’t normal either. no normal guy deliberately chooses to keep his bangs like that. 

there’s a gap, there. a kind of inconsistency. he’s hard to approach, but he puts you at ease. pulls you in and scares you off. with a soft voice and kind smile, keen eyes and a heavy palm on your head. sometimes he brings you snacks when you study in the library, or helps you with homework. kind of like a dependable senpai. someone to lean on.

… but then there’s that gap. 

the real geto, who you’ve only seen glimpses of, only ever in gojo’s vicinity, is boyish and bright — he laughs and pouts and takes up space. he glows brighter than the sun. but the geto you’re seeing, right now, is more like the moon. wearing a polite, patient smile. standing up straight.

waiting for you to join him under his umbrella.

(he’s kind. but is he doing it because wants to, or because he feels obliged to?)

”… oh.” a pause. ”no, it’s fine!” you take a step back, quick to reassure him. ”i can walk there without it! i’m already soaked, anyway.”

geto observes you. for a moment, something in his expression flickers; a crease between his brows.

then he shakes his head. still wearing a comforting smile, the same one he always slips on when he’s around you. ”still. we don’t want you catching a cold,” he persists, sounding something like a nagging mother. ”you’ll miss the exam next week.”

and with that, your shoulders drop. 

right — the exam. the one you haven’t been studying for in the slightest, completely distracted by the feeling of summer in the air. the one you can’t fail, under any circumstances, because yaga-sensei can and will force you to take summer classes ad compensation. that exam. 

a wistful sigh leaves your lips. ”god, i wish.”

geto chuckles — a little deeper than usual. it makes your heart flutter. then he’s beckoning you over, again, with a slight shake of his head. 

”c’mon. there’s enough room for two.”

he gives you that same familiar smile, and you’re forced to admit that you might be slightly weak to it. something about the way his lips tug upwards, the light crinkle of his eyes. a certain glint in them that tells you he’s not budging on the issue. 

you’re still a little hesitant. but…

(this is a chance, isn’t it? a chance to bridge that gap between you.)

silently, shyly, you join him under his umbrella. shielding you from the still falling rain.

pitter patter, pitter patter. you don’t know where the rain ends and your own heartbeat begins. he’s so close — your shoulders nearly brushing together. it makes your nerves bubble up, in rhythm with the droplets bouncing off the cover up above. you feel stiff. the tiny, miniscule gap between you feels like a sweltering stove, radiating a heat that warns you to stay away. as if his touch could burn you. like this, you can even smell him; fresh laundry, an earthy cologne. the slightest hint of caffeine and tobacco. you blame it on shoko — the whole dormitory smells of cigarettes, thanks to her. 

it’s comforting, though. his scent. blending together with the aroma of rain, wet earth, blooming flowers. with his fragrance smoothing over all your senses, the closeness between you a constant reminder of the situation you’re in, you can’t bring yourself to look at him. 

all you do is murmur out a quick thanks, as you begin to walk, in tandem.

geto can’t help but steal a glance at you, out of the corner of his eye. you look a little meek, a little flustered. he hopes the narrow distance between you isn’t making you feel too uncomfortable. 

just to be sure, he angles his body away from yours. ever so slightly, one subtle step away, to make the gap a little wider. then, as discreetly as he can manage, he tilts the umbrella in your direction — not wanting the never-ending drops of rain to graze your skin. he can feel them, now, soaking through the material of his shirt, hitting his shoulder. but he doesn’t mind. to his relief, you don’t seem to notice. he’s pretty sure you’d protest; and as enjoyable as another friendly squabble would be, he’d prefer to avoid it for now.

you’re nice. accommodating, he thinks, in a subtle kind of way. always showing up with trinkets after your little outings, offering to get everyone a drink on your way to the vending machines. you’re friendly with the other two; always nagging at shoko to stop smoking, even when she just rolls her eyes and calls you a goody two shoes. recently, you’ve even started to be patient with satoru, even when he tries to get a rise out of you. it wasn’t like that at the start of the year. geto wonders what changed. 

he’s a little interested in you. just a little. you’re sweeter than the other two, easier to worry over. he saw you trip over your own shoelaces last week. you’re a little clumsy, a bit of a ditz — airheaded. maybe that’s why he can’t help but feel protective of you. satoru brushes everything off with a cheeky grin, and shoko is self-sustaining, but you’re often in need of a helping hand. the last time he tried that with the other two, they wouldn’t stop calling him mother geto until he smacked them over the head with satoru’s shounen jump issue. 

it makes him feel out of place — when he doesn’t have anything to tend to. itchy, a feeling of dread crawling up his throat. peace and quiet feels suffocating, when he isn’t in total control over it.

so, in his own way, small as it may be, geto enjoys taking care of you. grabbing you a carton of strawberry milk, or warding satoru away when he’s annoying you a little too much. he likes the smile you grace him with when he does. it’s pretty. and it’s all geto really knows about you — that, and that there’s a tenderness to you that’s hard to fake. it’s not much to go on.

so this is the perfect opportunity to learn more. 

(a heartfelt connection. something he’s always, always craved. something that maybe he can finally have, with satoru, and shoko, and you — 

if you’re willing, that is.)

”hey,” he starts, breaking the rainfilled silence. keeping his umbrella steady, leading you both away from a big puddle in the middle of the sidewalk. ”can i ask you something?”

you raise your head to look at him. blinking owlishly, at the sudden question, nerves beginning to rise again. he sounds kind of serious. did you do something? paranoia gnaws anxiously at the ridges of your ribs, but all you can do is swallow empty air and stammer out a meek reply.

”… uh, sure!”

geto glances over at you, his eyes meeting yours. that gaze of his is kind of heavy — the deep colour of his eyes coaxing you closer, luring you in. honey and amber, splotches of cedar and flecks of gold.

they’re pretty.

”this might be kind of a weird question,” he begins, reaching a hand up to adjust his bun, sneaking a finger under the black hair tie. voice light; to put you at ease. ”but i’m just curious.” 

he looks ahead, at the street before you, only meeting your stare once you give him a slight tilt of your head. then he parts his lips.

”why did you come here?”

you blink. 

silently, confusion painting the interior of your iris, you stare at him. waiting for a clarification that doesn’t come, before giving him a hesitant answer. ”… to get snacks?”

geto has the audacity to laugh, after such a vague question. the sound is light and breathy, melting together with the pitter patter of the rain, and for some reason it strikes you as sincere. ”not like that,” he grins. ”i mean, why did you come to the school in the first place?”

ah. 

that’s a different question. harder to answer. he must notice your hesitance, the puzzlement in your features, because he’s quick to elaborate. hiding a smile behind his fist, disguised as a cough.

(you’re sort of cute when you’re confused.)

”i mean — it’s an odd choice, isn’t it? far off the map, barely any students....” you nod along, and he continues. ”i don’t know about your background. but moving away from home must be kind of tough, right?” when he glances in your direction, you notice a sparkle of genuine curiosity in his eyes. ”so i was curious about your reason. if you feel comfortable telling me, i mean.”

a hum. it buzzes in your throat, absentminded, as you stare into space. brows furrowed. 

geto gives you time, as much time as you need, always willing to wait. for a minute or so, the only sounds that fill the space around you are the pitter patter of raindrops hitting the plastic cover of umbrella, and the sound of your shoes meeting puddles on the street. silently, you ponder the question. thinking of your answer.

geto has a point. you’ve been curious, too — about how your classmates ended up in such an eccentric little school, so detached from the rest of the world. a quirky private school in the middle of nowhere. you must all be a little eccentric yourselves. that’s probably why you feel so safe with them — you get the sense that you’re all lacking something. something that would ward normal kids away from such an unorthodox choice.

you could say you were just going with the flow. a relative of yours used to work with yaga-sensei, and heard about his position at a newly reinstated private school — heard that he was looking for students to fill the roster. 

so you accepted.

(if it was really that simple, geto would already have his answer.)

what drew you in, more than anything, was the promise of something new. a strange, small school, far away from home; from the people you know, the town you know, the life that you’ve lived. far away from the person you are, the person you was, the person you’ve always been.

an escape. that’s all it was. 

a way out.

he’s still waiting for your answer, even now, trying to read your thoughts off your face. eyes trailing over every contour. very briefly, you consider dodging the question — but his silent, steady presence squeezes a little honesty out of you. 

you want to give him a genuine answer.

”… i guess,” you begin, weighing the words on your tongue. they feel stale, a little awkward, but not dishonest. ”i wanted to stop being me for a bit.” 

the words are unexpected, surprising even to your own ears — like your mouth and your mind weren’t quite cooperating, one ahead of the other, one not weighing in on the honest choice. they catch geto off guard. 

he looks at you, silently, attempts to dissect your expression; but he doesn’t succeed. 

for a second, something flashes in his eyes. a glimmer that you just barely catch, that you can still sense behind his eyelids when they flutter shut. you’re not sure what to call it. recognition, maybe, or something like empathy. a sense of acknowledgement. it’s gone when he opens his eyes. 

he doesn’t look at you when he answers.

”… i get that.”

there’s a depth to his words that you’re afraid to uncover. you feel their weight, all the same, glancing up at him, studying his expression, the humid drops of dew that stick to his lashes. and you feel a tug. faint, non-existent, the string between your pinkies —

a growing connection. 

(it makes you feel oddly bare.)

all you can give him is a chuckle, a little breathless. ”do you?” you ask, grinning weakly. ”it’s a little melodramatic.”

geto only smiles. silent, comfort personified. there’s no judgement in his eyes, none whatsoever — because he knows exactly what you mean.

fleeing from the past. 

it’s a kind of murder, he thinks. a rebirth.

maybe the two of you are similar. similar in the sense that he recognizes the shadow in your eyes, the one he sometimes sees in mirrors; familiar in the sense that you both suffer from that same sickening awareness. 

(maybe you want the same thing he wants, what he’s always wanted — 

control.)

it’s a realization that creeps up on you, the both of you, slow and steady. a sense of kinship. it envelops you, cradles you close, in the same way molten clouds cover the summer sky.

geto isn’t lying, you can tell. he does get it. you know, just from that tilt of his voice, the way his eyelashes flutter, his absent shifting from one foot to another. and it soothes your worries.

everything is silent, for a bit. you look down at the asphalt, at your own reflection in a puddle, and geto gazes at the bushes of hydrangeas to his right. you feel safe, right next to him, under his umbrella. and he feels content to have you there. your shoulders brush together, for a moment, and it sends a jolt through your heartbeat.

geto inhales a breath.

”by the way —” 

”— have you studied for the exam?”

you both still. blurting out the words at the same time, turning to look at each other; sheepishly blinking in the other’s direction.

then he barks out a laugh.

”sorry,” he hums, a sleek smile on his lips. bright and sheepish. ”what was that? the exam?”

”ah — yeah,” you feel heat settle on the back of your neck, crawling up your ears. ”have you, um, studied for it at all?”

geto moves the umbrella from one arm to the other, smoothly directing you to stand on his right instead of his left. guiding you with his hand on your lower back, ghosting the fabric of your clothing. he stretches his free arm, a little stiff.

”yeah,” he exhales. ”not a lot, though.”

”really?” you blink up at him, trying not to blush at how easily he maneuvered you. stupid, stupid heartbeat. ”you strike me as the honour student type…”

geto scoffs. it leaves his lips before he can tug it back. ”satoru said the same thing.”

a breath spills from your lips, almost a chuckle. you’re not sure how to feel about being compared to gojo, of all people, but you’ll let it slide this once. ”well, you just kinda have that vibe.”

now he’s huffing, tethering on the edge of something childish, and your smile grows. you’re seeing him make a lot of new expressions today. 

”why, though?” comes a sigh. he must be playing it up, a little — you almost get fooled into thinking he’s pouting. ”is it the hair? i don’t even wear glasses anymore...”

”well —” you pause. ”hold on, you used to wear glasses?”

all you get is an absent hum. he doesn’t notice your wide, shellshocked eyes. ”when i was younger. i got rid of them a couple years back.”

“oh…” you try to imagine it, for a second. he’d look frighteningly good in them. just barely, you manage to keep yourself from saying it out loud. ”i think it’s more just your general personality. like, you’re responsible and polite… or something.”

and geto chuckles; the intersection between a teasing smile and a soft grin. it’s just a little bit ethereal, painted over with the humid summer air. he turns towards you.

”and that makes me an honour student?” 

”… okay, maybe not.” you bring a hand up to your hair, fixing it absently. deflating a little. ”you just strike me as intelligent, i guess.”

geto smiles, again, as always. the chuckle that escapes him is faint and fond, and awfully soft, dripping down his lips. ”well, thank you.” 

his eyes are warm, burning into yours. all you can do is glance away. you still don’t really understand this sensation — why he’s suddenly so easy to talk to. why he feels like something other than just a classmate, when he looks at you like that. 

then again, geto has always been a natural at putting people at ease. maybe that’s why you can’t help but warm up to him, compliantly, the way a child dutifully follows the first butterfly they ever see — it’s a little too pretty to resist. 

you want to slip deeper into his world, you realize. you don’t want this moment to end so soon.

”you guys really get along, huh?” you change the subject, speaking slowly, savouring every syllable. there isn’t any rush to get the words out all at once, when you’re with him. 

geto blinks, tilting his head. 

”hm?”

“you and gojo, i mean.”

a glimmer passes through his eyes, as your query sinks in. ”ah. yeah.” his gaze strays upwards, and a contemplative look settles into his face. he knows what you’re after, what you’re really asking; why are the two of you so close? why do you put up with his antics? 

what do you see in him? 

he thinks it’s a fair question. it’s not like he hasn’t asked himself the very same thing, before — satoru can be annoying. ignorant, too, and terribly rude. a little prick. when he stole his curry bun yesterday, geto wanted to kill him. spoiled little brat.

(then again, he’s…)

”he’s… well.” geto exhales, a little breathless. tasting the words on his tongue. ”you know how he is — but he’s not a bad guy.” 

and it’s true. he really isn’t. satoru is a lot of things; rude and spoiled, cocky and bratty, an expert at ticking everyone off. but there’s a kind of charm, there. an innocence that geto admires. 

satoru is childish — because he is a child. a child who knows a lot of things that children shouldn’t know. a child who doesn’t know the most basic of things. satoru doesn’t know how to make friends. he doesn’t know how to ask for help, doesn’t know how to give it. he doesn’t know what cotton candy tastes like, because he’s never tried it before. 

his childhood couldn't have been very warm. it definitely wasn’t normal. 

is that why he puts up with him, then? out of pity? of course not. the bare thought of it leaves a bad taste in his mouth. he’d never look down on satoru, like that — and he knows he’d hate him for it. if anything, geto thinks that maybe the two of them are close because he doesn’t give him any special treatment. even if satoru wasn’t treated with warmth or love, he was certainly coddled. spoiled. it’s evident, in the way that he acts.

but satoru isn’t a god, and he shouldn’t act like one. 

one punch, right across the face; knocking the white-haired boy off his feet. that’s where their friendship began. there were stars in satoru’s eyes, geto thinks, when he looked up at him from the ground. sunglasses fallen off from the impact, blue eyes entirely on display, catching the light of the sun — gleaming with a certain bewilderment. almost amazement. like he didn’t know he could be hit, didn’t know it was possible. the sun shone down on him, illuminating the vague bruising on his cheek, and geto wondered if that was the first punch the boy had ever taken.

it certainly wasn’t a first for him, when satoru lunged at him next —

it was a little juvenile. more than a little deranged. geto isn’t one to throw fists, in the first place — he’s out of practice. the punch he fed satoru might’ve been a little too forceful. he couldn’t help but feel bad, every so slightly, for putting a bruise on that irritatingly pretty face of his. 

but it still ended with satoru’s arm around his shoulder, a buzzing voice by his ear, proclaiming them as friends. cheery and bright.

geto couldn’t help but echo the statement.

(satoru is a lot of things. 

most of all, he’s really hard to hate.)

geto’s answer brings a smile to your face. ”yeah,” you hum, soft voice breaking him out of his reverie. ”he isn’t.”

he looks at you. silently, a question of his own brewing in his irises — and with you so close, close enough to touch, smiling at him like he’s an old friend… geto can’t help but indulge in his own curiosity. 

he tries to appear nonchalant, stealing a glance at you out of the corner of his eye. ”seems like the two of you are getting along better, too.” 

”me and gojo?” you blink, surprised. a little flustered. huffing out an amused breath, trying to brush off the bare thought. ”no way.”

geto laughs — it’s a deep sound, a full one. somehow very earnest. you wonder if that’s how his laugh always sounds, whenever gojo’s involved. ”oh, come on. you don’t hate him that much.” a teasing glint blooms in his eyes, as he scrutinizes you. ”or am i wrong?”

you pause. faltering, a little, gaze falling down to the pavement — then to the sky — then to him. and then back to the pavement. 

”… i mean…” you attempt to squeeze the words out from within your chest, but you can’t help but feel hesitant. as if gojo could jump out of the bushes at any moment, ready to tease you if you say anything that paints him in an even moderately decent light. ”i don’t… hate him. but he’s still annoying.” a pout slips onto your lips. “he has it out for me, you know.”

geto laughs, again. you note that you’re fond of the sound. ”isn’t that because he likes you, though? he just doesn’t know how to show it. it’s like pulling pigtails.”

”don’t even joke about that,” you scoff, shooting him a scowl. “and that wouldn’t make it any better, even if it was true.”

a fond smile. ”yeah, you’re right.” he opts to dial down on the teasing, shifting into a more sincere tone. ”you do seem more friendly now, though. before it felt like you really hated his guts.”

a hum buzzes in your throat. brows furrowing, as you mull on what to answer with. unsure how you really feel. it’s not like you’re suddenly super close, or anything — but you have gotten friendlier. just by a smidge, but still. you’ve gotten better at putting up with him and his antics, at finding comfort in how open he can be.

after a tiny pause, you speak up. 

”… i still don’t really understand him.” you gnaw at the skin of your bottom lip, trapping it between your teeth. “but i think i might be starting to.” 

you’re a little embarrassed over the words that fall from your lips, barely above a whisper. 

”… he’s not the worst.”

geto smiles, but you don’t see it — gaze still lingering on the droplets that bounce off the pavement. ”i’m glad,” he hums, earnest. ”that guy needs more friends.”

something about his tone of voice urges you to look at him. that smile of his is bright, gleaming in the rain, in the midst of the flowers all around you. a little teasing, a little boyish, but somehow very sincere. you didn’t think you’d get to see it up close.

and you can’t help but chuckle. the raven-haired boy glances over at you, confusion in his eyes.

noticing it, you breathe out a quiet chuckle. ”sorry, it’s just —” a teasing grin smooths over your lips. ”you guys bicker a lot, and you act like he annoys you… but you really care for him, don’t you?”

this time, geto almost stops in his tracks. his eyes widen, slightly, and you’re not sure why he seems surprised — when he always sounds so fond saying satoru’s name, talking about him like they understand each other fully. maybe he didn’t notice it until now. 

a moment passes, before he collects himself, clearing his throat and averting his gaze. awfully good at keeping his composure. 

(though he fails to fully conceal the flustered look on his face.)

”i wouldn’t go that far,” he mumbles, but it only makes you chuckle again. his lips curl up slightly, at the sound; despite his embarrassment. ”someone’s gotta look out for that idiot.”

”right. of course.”

geto gives you a displeased little look. you bite back a laugh. feeling at ease, by his side — you get the sense that you can trust him, that you could tell him absolutely anything, and he still wouldn't use it against you. it’s a relief.

standing there, under geto’s umbrella, in the shadow of summer, rain obscuring the world — you reach a definitive conclusion.

you want to get to know him. want to see inside his heart, hear more of his thoughts. if you could only step over that gap between you, wriggle your way into his world — 

you think you’d be happy.

so, as you walk side by side, narrowly avoiding puddles and breathing in the humid summer air, you try to coax them out of him. little thoughts, bits and pieces of the suguru geto you yearn to meet.

(unbeknownst to you, he’s doing the same.)

you continue to talk. about miniscule things, meaningless things, a comfortable sensation of trust simmering in the air between you. and before you know it, you’ve stepped onto the school grounds, stopping right in front of the dormitory.

”here we are,” geto hums, folding the umbrella and tucking it between his arm and torso. you turn to look him in the eye, taking an absent step away.

”thanks, geto,” you can’t help but smile. ”for letting me walk with you.”

”don’t mention it.” he brushes you off with ease, quick to drag the door open; waiting for you to step inside before following suit. always so accommodating. 

for a second, he hesitates. a glimmer of uncertainty, in his eyes, that you miss — stretching out your tired limbs with a shallow groan, enjoying the warm and dry air on your skin. 

finally, geto takes the leap.

when he parts his lips, his voice comes out soothing. natural and breathy, floral patterns blooming on his tongue; as silky as jasmine petals. ”you can call me suguru, you know.” he lets the silence linger, for a moment. ”if you want to.”

you turn to look at him, eyes widening, at the sudden offer, and he can’t get a good read on the emotion reflected in them. you seem caught off guard, but he can’t tell if it’s a good or bad thing.

after a moment or two, you fumble for a response. 

”oh. um — okay? i will, then.” you shake your head, as if brushing off the hesitance you feel, mustering the courage to imitate his offer. ”in that case, you can call me by my first name, too.” 

a brief pause. 

”… if you want to.”

geto smiles. it’s laced with relief, hard to notice, impossible to miss. instead of answering with an affirmation, he takes a more teasing approach — unable to resist the temptation.

so he says your name. your first name, dragging the syllables out on his tongue, as if tasting it. trying to get used to the way the letters bend as they come out of his mouth. despite the teasing lilt it carries, the sound is oddly earnest; he pronounces it clearly, like he’s trying to call you to his side. you almost feel compelled to take a step towards him. 

geto looks you in the eye, as he calls you by your given name, for the very first time — and you can’t help but grow flustered.

”… suguru,” you echo, for whatever reason. you think your brain may be slightly fried. but it feels right, to say it. suguru. 

(what a pretty name.)

suguru smiles at you. you think it’s just a little wider than usual, a little more sincere. almost giddy, if you squint. in the open air, the intimate atmosphere simmers.

finally, you clear your throat, glancing in the direction of your dorm room. a silent que for him to follow.

and he does. leaving the umbrella by the hall, before walking you to your door. his steady, soothing presence sticking to your skin. you’re just about to place your fingers on the doorknob, when a pang of realization hits you — stopping you in your tracks.

”oh — right!”

swiftly, you turn on your heel, facing suguru again. he gazes down at you, bemusement in his eyes. watching as you rummage through the plastic bag hanging off your arm. finally, you find what you were looking for; holding it out towards him. 

”here,” you give him a warm smile. ”as thanks.”

suguru accepts it, compliantly, allowing you to slip a pack of gum into his palm. he recognizes the brand, one he favours over others. it helps him, on days he can’t find his appetite. 

did you see him chewing it at some point, he wonders? when, though? 

maybe you’re always paying attention to the people around you. the way they like their coffee, their favoured flavour of gum. it may be a small kindness, an absentminded one, but suguru thinks that makes it all the more meaningful. a kindness that seeps out of you, that draws him in. 

he wants to know more, about you. he really does.

but for now, this is enough. a walk back to your dorm, your shared home, talking and growing closer than before. 

it’s a small step, but in the right direction. 

the pack of gum stirs a mellow, tender feeling in his chest. all he can do is give you a smile, and a thank you that you’re quick to brush off. then you say your goodbyes, and you close the door behind you — flopping down on your bed with a muffled squeal. a giddy kind of excitement swimming in your veins. because finally, finally, you feel like the gap between you has been dented.

you know what his real laugh sounds like. that the tips of his ears turn pink when he’s embarrassed. you know that he used to wear glasses, that you’re a little more similar than either of you could have assumed.

you know that you’re fond of him. fond of a boy with black hair, who smells of summer and rain and chewing gum. fond of a boy you’ve only scratched the surface of.

on the other side of the door, suguru walks back to his room. with a pep in his step, one that satoru notices — because of course he does — appearing from around the corner with a shit-eating grin.

“oh? what were you doing over there, suguru?”

suguru ignores him. popping a piece of the gum you gave him into his mouth, a flavour of apricot melting on his tongue — he sinks his teeth into it, slowly, feeling his lips curl up into a smile.

it tastes of summer and youth. a memory that both of you will savour, for many years to come.

[clandestineloki]

firefighter miguel ohara x reader (VERY NSFW)

A/N: ang sabi ko december matatapos hindi ko sinabi anong year 😇

cw: smut, creampie, rough sex, things get 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂

when you first moved into your tiny home, you had gotten most of your stuff into the house by yourself

and the last thing you needed to unload from ur dad's car was your night stand so you carried it since it wasnt so heavy

only you accidentally hit the doorknob with your elbow and it flew off 😭

so you're standing there pacing nervously because you just locked yourself out of your own house LMAO DUMBASS

but to your rescue comes none other than miguel

having just returned from a minor save in his whole firefighter getup (somebody's stove caught on fire in an apartment somewhere but nothing fatal thankfully)

miguel looks to the house on his left

and suddenly believes in angels.

aren't you the cutest lil damsel in distress :}

u're pacing back nd forth and he's trying so hard not to stare at your cute lil ass in those pretty peach shorts 😙

you see him and wave, "pls help, sir!! my door- like- uh- i dont know what happened please help me i have to get this inside huhu"

who is he to say no??

he cracks his knuckles and squares up, making you blush as he grunts and flexes his muscles.

BUT YOU DONT EXPECT HIM TO BREAK DOWN UR DOOR

KICKED IT RIGHT OFF THE HINGES

and strategically kicked it too bc both the door and the hinges were intact, the screws just came off

he brushes his hair back and raises an eyebrow at your wide eyes

too shocked to contradict, you take the nightstand into ur new bedroom and come back to ur porch with a glass of lemonade for him

he thanks you, smirking when you blush and look away.

fixes your door that quickly too like wow

a handyman! maybe u can switch that up and manhandl- *GUNSHOTS*

anyways

for the next week and a half you're out on your porch with ur fat little cat mochi, working on a crochet thing, it's a hobby you recently got into since you're waiting for your cable and internet to get hooked up

and the firetruck drives by and the firetruck guys are blasting music, having a laugh

but miguel oh he always makes it a point to subtly wave at you and wink

it always leaves you flustered bc a very attractive man is giving you attention??

but what if he does it to other girls?? but if he does it to other girls why did one of the truckies ruffle miguel's hair when he caught miguel doing that??

but you just leave it at that, maybe he just wants ur attention and when he has it he'll get fed up and find some other pretty girl :((

until mochi gets the genius idea to chase a screeching squirrel up the tree right between your house and miguel's

"OH MY GOD MOCHI!!!!" you yell. "mochi, please dont move!!"

miguel just got back from a boring day at work, wearing half the firefighter getup and a grey shirt.

his definition of fun is getting to show off why his nickname is "the spider". it's because he almost never uses ladders and climbs the houses with just some rope and his bare hands.

and today was just some fire drill at a high school nearby, and he's a little pissed that nobody was listening because the mic had terrible feedback.

"MOCHI BABY OH MY GOD STAY RIGHT THERE!!"

miguel's head perks up from his phone, brows furrowing when he hears you screaming. he rushes to the 3½ ft fence between your house and his to see you running to the large tree in your backyard.

"leave em', peaches," he sighed and leaned against the fence with his arms crossed. "cats naturally land on their feet, he'll come down in a second."

"NO YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND!!" you turn to him, panic clear in your voice. "HE'S BLIND!!"

"oh SHIT" miguel jumps over the fence and runs over to you. "where's the bastard?!"

you gasp at him. "ONLY I GET TO CALL HIM A BASTARD!" 

"fine, where is... it?"

"up there, MOCHI PLEASE DONT MOVE!! I'LL GET YOU BABY!"

"i wouldn't do that if i w-"

before miguel can stop you, you're already climbing the tree yourself. smirking, he lifts you off the trunk and into his arms, as if you were a cat yourself.

"peaches, you might wanna leave that to me," he chuckles riiiight up against your sensitive ear. "don't want your pretty little body getting all scratched up, mm?"

you whimper.

"miguel," you mumble, "p-put me down."

you squirm against him, but he growls and holds you closer.

"oh? and what if you're just going to do it again, mm? you gonna be a bad girl?" he asks, tracing his tongue over your earlobe, making you shiver and sink into his arms.

"m-miguel, what are you-"

"y'know bebita... you're terrible at pretending you don't look at me like you wanna fuck me..."

"wh-what?!"

the way he's carrying you reminds you an awful lot of this position you saw in porn. the full nelson. the tiny girl, all flushed and pleasure-dizzy, thighs quivering as she's pounded over and over, trapped in the thick veiny arms of her man as he subjects his little fucktoy to the roughest pounding until her brain is just as liquid as the sticky sweet potent cum leaking out of her -

"oh, look," miguel whispers, snapping you out of your dirty thoughts. mochi, despite his lack of eyesight, somehow finds his way down and glares straight through the two of you as if he can actually see the lewd way you're compromised in the arms of your handsome, secretly obsessed with you neighbor.

"there he is, the little furball," he sets you down, his hand lingering on your inner thigh a second too long as he pets the snobby little cat on his head. "your poor mami can't always save ya, y'know. i think she needs me around a lot more, hm?"

he turns to your flustered figure and smirks at your wide-eyed look. "i think you owe me a thank you."

"r-right..." you mumble, scratching the back of your neck nervously, still out of it. "th-thank you..."

to your downright embarrassment, he laughs at your pathetic attempt of speaking, and corners you against the fence.

"i think i need more than just a whisper, peaches," he drawls against your ear, one hand wandering under your shorts as he grins at the way you melt with just a little teasing.

"i'm real thirsty, bebita, so why don't you be a good girl and make me something to drink?"

which leads to right now: you're avoiding eye contact with miguel as he sits on your couch, patting at his forehead with a towel.

you're also avoiding eye contact with the very prominent bulge in his cargo pants.

you hand him a glass of ice, before turning to the fridge and looking through it.

"i-i have some orange juice, water, uh, pepsi if you want-"

"water."

you gulp. "o-okay," you take the pitcher and sit down next to him, and pouring into his glass slowly, staring at his hands because you can't bring yourself to look him in the eyes.

"bebita."

you flinch as you realize you've been pouring too much. the glass is filled to the brim.

[what you don't know is that he wishes you were too]

"s-sorry..." you mumble, scooting away from him slowly. he grabs your wrist and leans into your ear.

"can't we stop dancing around each other like we don't know where this is going?" he growls.

"wait- let me put this down!" you gasp as he pulls you onto his lap roughly, the plastic pitcher in your hands slanting and getting droplets ice-cold water down your chest.

and you have no idea how much it sounds like a dirty little moan when you go, "ngh! miguel!"

before you can even blink, you find yourself pinned down on the couch, the pitcher clattering to the floor. but your heart stops as you come face-to-face with miguel's lustful expression, his dark eyes staring into yours.

"do you have any idea what i want to do to you?"

you whimper shyly, and he curses under his breath, instinctively grinding his hips up into yours, making your breath hitch at the feeling of that right up against your crotch.

"oh you're so fucking cute," he grumbles. "think i'm really gonna break you when i put it in here..."

he torturously drags his palms up and down your legs and grinning like a madman when you whine from the sensations.

"wanted to fuck you since the moment you got here," he whispers darkly, his long fingers hooking under the waistband of your shorts and underwear. "do a little housewarming n' give you a nice, big welcome all over the couch, the bed, the shower..."

his voice trails off into a breathy shit, baby as he sees your wet pussy clenching around nothin. he looks up at your doe-eyed expression and grins.

"you gotta use your voice, pretty," he teases. "as much as i like starin' at you i can't figure out what you want~"

"i want you..." you whisper. "i want you to fuck me, miguel."

and fuck you he does. he presses his lips to yours and pushes you into the meanest mating press. "dreamed about this for so long," he growled into the kiss as he pulled down his pants. "cute little thing like you got a guy like me jerking off every night--" he starts nipping at your jawline  "--ah, like a fuckin' teenager. why am i- fuck, y're so pretty- why am i so in love with you?"

he leans back to adore your flushed, needy state, and finally, finally pulls his dick out. you squeak as he rests over your bare stomach-- thick, veiny, and leaking all over you as if he can't wait a second longer.

when he pushes into you, god, the both of you feel heavenly. it takes all his strength to not plow into you like some ruthless beast. he just bites your neck, and rocks into you slowly as his thumb draws small circles on your clit, hoping to get you to adjust to his size.

it does way more than that, because within a few seconds, you're gasping and seizing under him, twitching helplessly as an orgasm washes over you, making your tight little pussy cream all over him sofucking good.

miguel's patience only lasts a few seconds after you come before his lust overrides him and he pounds you into the couch with every bit of his strength.

"miguel! miguel! oh, fuck- too much-"

you're screaming his name over and over, your walls clenching down on him as he hits the sweetest spots in you with every thrust of his hips. your nails run down his back as he fucks you like his life depends on it, and it hurts so good he can't bring himself to care about anything but you, you, you. cute, shy, innocent, cockdrunk little you.

he's addicted. and he's yours.

miguel feels himself getting close-- and knows you're getting close too, with the way your moans are getting breathier and your eyes are glossing over.

"fuck, i'm gonna fill you up so good, peaches," he groans. "cum with me, princess. make a mess for me~"

he swallows your moans of pleasure with a kiss, and fucks your through your orgasm as his tongue fucks your mouth. you whine and cry, and he spanks the side of your thigh, making you squeak and twitch under him. his thrusts get sloppy until his eyes roll back and he almost groans when he comes, thick, white cum filling you up like you're some kind of creamy pastry.

you shakily push at his chest, but he tsks at you, simply taking your wrists and pinning them to your side as he makes out sloppily, his hips moving slowly as he pushes more of his cum into you.

"take it all, peaches," he whispers hoarsely. "then i'm gonna clean it all out with my tongue~"

"miguel! that's nasty!" you whine, but he's got his mind set on it already, lifting you over his shoulder and heading to your bedroom.

he laughs, then sets you down on the bed, flipping you over with your ass sticking out. you gasp and shiver when you feel two of his thick fingers in your pussy.

"if you think that's nasty you'd faint if i told you what i wanna do with you on your kitchen counter, peaches."

[riediaries]

the wailing sound of a baby fills up the room for the nth time tonight. the crying continues and becomes louder throughout the second.

you groan, waking up from your needed sleep. as much as you want to wake up satoru to take care of her, you can't. you are both equally tired and sleep-deprived because of your daughter.

you try to get up slowly to not wake up satoru but he already beat you into it. he gets up and pushes your body gently to the bed.

"sleep some more." he leans down to give your forehead a kiss and then gets up to be with his baby daughter.

"hi mochi." he smiles to her. that smile alone makes her feel really safe and comfortable as she's now calming down. she raises her two chubby hands, wanting her daddy to carry her.

"do you think it's too early for you to wake us up?" he jokes. satoru checks her diaper for poop just in case and after that, he carefully puts his gentle hands on her body to lift her up.

you can not take off your eyes on the scene unfolding in front of you. quietly observing the two white haired baby and the big baby.

satoru continues to rock her body as he hums in a melodic tone. the crying comes to stop and she hiccups.

"yes.. yes.. daddy's here.." he swaddles his baby around his arm in a gentle way, afraid to hurt her in any way.

you get up and your feet automatically makes its way to your little family. you hug your husband by the waist, putting your chin on his shoulder to see your daughter eyeing his father. blue eyes to blue eyes.

you were not glad by the genes of this man covering your daughter whole. from head to toe. she's the carbon copy of her dad but on the other side, you were happy that the only man you love is practically the twin of your daughter.

this thought makes another thought on your mind in which you giggle.

satoru breaks his eye contact with his baby and turns his head to you. "hm? what is it? and shouldn't you be sleeping?"

you continue to giggle and put your forehead on his shoulder, an attempt to muffle your giggles but satoru's plump lips makes out a smile.

"what is it? what's funny?" he asks again. he's curious why you're giggling a little too much.

you sigh and turns your head to meet his stunning blue eyes that was passed down on your daughter.

you look at your daughter first who's already eyeing you, too. great. two pairs of beautiful eyes watching you.

"there's this saying.." you start and your attention goes back to satoru.

he hums, signaling you to continue.

"this saying says that whoever was the carbon copy of the kid was the one who enjoyed a little too much during the making.." you burst out of laughing.

as you make your point, satoru chuckles at that saying, slightly agreeing. "oh?" he raises an eyebrow and grins.

"oh.. is that so?" he wiggles his eyebrows this time.

"mhm.." you hum. "so.. you enjoyed it a lot, huh, satoru?" you tease him.

he laughs quietly. "uh-huh, you caught me, babe." he leans to you, pecking your lips shortly. "i enjoyed it a lot and i will enjoy it more in the future." he whispers on your lips as teases you back.

it's now your turn to frown. "no way." you roll your eyes to dismiss his earlier thought.

he grins even more and turns his attention back to the baby who's been quiet. "but she needs siblings soon enough to have a playmate. isn't that right, baby?" babying the words in the last sentence.

"c'mon. you clearly enjoyed the making, too. even though just a little of your genes were taken out for our baby." he laughs and your daughter giggles, it's as if she's teaming up with him to tease you.

"oh my.. what a little rebellion we have right now." you chuckle at your daughter's early stages of being a mini satoru.

"you should team up with mommy when you grow up." you boop her nose which made her giggle more, making you and satoru smile at your child that has you and satoru's best qualities.

giggles and laughs filled the room at three am in the morning, too early for some playful interaction with your little family.

"no, right? baby girl should team up with daddy and that's why, mommy.." he turns to you again. "we should make another one for you to have a teammate soon enough." he laughs, louder this time.

"no–"

"but this time, i will make sure you'll enjoy more than me so that the second one will be your own very carbon copy." he grins and you slap his back.

what a rough future you'll be expecting.

[makismei]

❝ ALL YOU EVER WANTED FROM ME WAS SWEET NOTHING!

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ geto x f!reader

cw: fwb to lovers, college!au suggestive content, modern! au, fluff, minor angst, MEN YEARNING, failing out of college, reader needs academic validation to live apparently

synopsis: he’ll love you, just as you are— even if you’re too soft for the world, he’ll gladly be your shield

suguru’s in love with you. it’s no secret.

as you lay on his chest, sweat slicked skin on skin, suguru wishes this pre arranged arrangement was more— he wishes you’d let him in, so he could love you more.

he tries, really. he wants to know you. anything about you.

at this point, he knows your body like the back of his hand. but your favourite colour? no idea. he would guess pink, but that’s only because you own a lot of pink tops.

you like sweets. recently, you’ve garnered a fascination for mochi donuts.

but all this information has come from his observant nature— you’ve never opened up to him, except for that one time, when you cried in his arms, seeking connection, another person’s warmth.

that was also the day you became friends with benefits.

whenever he tries to conduct a mini interview on you, you shut him out, telling him he doesn’t need to know those things.

he knows that you know he loves you.

he’s said it one too many times, when he’s most vulnerable, buried in you. but not once has he heard it back.

but it’s okay. he has a feeling that you’re starting to fall in love with him too.

you’ve started telling him about your day, as well as extremely vague plans for the next. suguru know he’s grasping at air, but he swears he can feel it in his hands.

“can we try?” he whispers, uncertain. to tell you the truth— suguru, as suave and handsome and perfect as he is, isn’t immune to insecurity. girls throw themselves at his feet, but he couldn’t care less because they’re not you.

you sit up. your warmth leaving him shatters his heart.

his room, air humid with sweat and sex, suddenly feels icy. but he gazes longingly at your back, at the scars on your elbows that probably have stories behind them— stories he craves so desperately to know.

“what’s so bad about it?” he continues, “is it me?”

“don’t ask stupid questions,” you retort. but he hears a shaky breath leave your lips, quiet cries filling the room.

he sits up, hand on your back. “look at me.”

he’s got you.

you shake your head, mindlessly bringing a finger to your lips, picking at the dead skin— a nervous tick.

“don’t do that,” suguru says, fingers cupping your jaw, gently turning your head so he can see your face. his thumb runs along your poor bottom lip, catching blood on his finger.

“i get overwhelmed easily,” you mutter, eyes glancing down in shame, “i shut people out when i feel too vulnerable and i’m mean.”

he huffs a laugh, thumb brushing against your cheekbone. “you’re protecting yourself and that’s okay.”

“i’m a shut-in, i don’t like leaving the house and i’m not romantic at all.” you continue and he nods, gaze never faltering.

“you like shoujo anime. especially the episodes with trips or big events.” he whispers, watching you pout. how cute, he thinks, like a petulant child who just wants to be noticed.

a tear streams down your cheek, wetting his thumb as he tries to wipe them away, but it’s like rainfall, so he lets you feel it out.

“i failed out of college,” you voice breaks, “the only thing i was supposed to be good at.”

you’re sobbing, head down in shame and suguru just pulls you into his arms. he rubs a hand soothingly up and down your back, heart absolutely shattering at the sounds of your cries.

“your failures don’t define you,” he mutters, “you’re still smart, capable and hard working. that doesn’t change.”

you pull away, staring him in the face and suguru thinks you’re so beautiful, so vulnerable in a way he hasn’t seen before.

“how do you know?” you sniffle, “you don’t know anything about me.”

he smiles, nodding. suguru wipes your tears, “i wonder why.”

you click your tongue, mustering a glare that holds absolutely no malice. he breathes a quiet laugh, “you’d bend over backwards for your so-called friends, even though none of them realize what you’re going through right now.”

“i don’t want them to know.” you refute.

“i bet you didn’t want me to know either,” he chastises, but it’s soft and his hands are so warm. “but i know now, because you’re important to me. i don’t want you to go through it all alone.”

you’re still glaring, but the crease between your brows have softened. “do you have a saviour complex?”

he shakes his head, “just a thing for damsels in distress, i guess.”

you pinch his arm. he takes your hand and it brings it to his lips. you feel warmth flood your body, but you don’t know if you deserve it.

“what if this ends up being the worst decision you’ll ever make?” you whisper and it’s the first time he’s heard you sound so insecure.

suguru cups your face in his hands, long black hair framing his face. his hair is so long that it tickles your skin, what would your parents say, when you bring home a guy with hair this long?

you can’t find it in you to care, because you know this guy loves you wholeheartedly. you don’t even know what you did to deserve it.

“it won’t be.” and it’s resolute, “haven’t i told you enough? that i love you?”

you nod slowly, tears finally drying.

he leans in, lips brushing against yours. “i’ll put in the work to make you believe me, to trust me.”

you laugh, “you don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.”

you realize here and now, that out of everyone in your life so far, suguru is the only one who doesn’t ask anything of you. he just loves you and it feels unbelievable.

suguru laughs, his forehead touching yours. “i should be telling you that.”

manga panel from my love story with yamada-kun at lv999 ^.^

[yukioos]

DID I TELL U THAT I MISS U

SUMMARY: megumi fushiguro x reader // you tease and patch up your boyfriend, megumi, after he gets into a fight when trying to take a cursed object from a high school boy.

WARNINGS: not proofread, blood, reader n megumi are in a relationship

AUTHORS NOTE: hi guys! sorry i had super bad writers block. im still gonna try and continue my in-ho x reader series btw! i’ll start taking requests for satoru, yuji, and megumi btw! thank you for 700 followers ❤️ this has 0.7k words

you laid in your bedroom, plush chest against the bedsheets as you read a book. every now and then you would flip a page and rake your eyes over the words, but someone still lingered in the back of your mind.

megumi.

gojo sent him to take a cursed object, ryomen sukuna’s finger, from a high school boy. most of the time, missions were easy for him, but he didn’t come back in a few hours. what worried you even more was when gojo knocked on your door and told you he was going to go get some food. however, you could tell something was off.

he wasn’t as humorous, he seemed stiff and averting his gaze everywhere beside you. you cautiously asked him if everything was okay, and of course, he unhesitatingly nodded and grinned. after a little conversation, he walked away. there was a little, unnoticeable tug on your heart that made you finally place down your book and take a moment to yourself.

that one moment turned into a nap.

your eyes widened and shot to the door, where you heard two pairs of feet thumping along the wood. two familiar voices spoke, and you quickly jumped out of bed and trotted to the door. you slowly opened it and peeked your head out, seeing megumi’s pale skin stained with blood, and gojo carrying a pink-haired boy.

you stared at the dark red liquid dripping down his face and onto his uniform, but your teacher greeted, “ah! y/n, great to see you again! we gotcha some mochi, his idea, of course.” he wrapped an arm around the shorter boy’s shoulders, causing him to roll his eyes. he was just trying to help his student ‘flirt’ with a girl who megumi was already in a relationship with. gojo still had itadori slung over his shoulder. he gave the mochi to his student and continued, “anyway, i have to deal with this kid. i’ll give you two some alone time.”

he grinned and bumped his elbow into megumi’s and smirked. the younger boy grumbled and balled his fists up, staying silent and frowning until his teacher walked away. he finally glanced at your worried expression and held the bag out for you. you politely and quietly thanked him but paused.

“we should get you cleaned up, honey, you don’t look too good.” you gently rubbed his now scarred face with care and love, trying to wipe off some blood. he averted his gaze but his face suddenly began to feel hot, and he tried to hide his pink cheeks with the neck of his uniform. you walked to the infirmary and opened a door, then sat him down on a bed.

you slightly grinned at how he looked everywhere but you, feeling a bit intimidated. you complimented, “i’ve never seen someone look good even when blood’s dripping down their face, guess that’s changed though, huh? you still look pretty cute, don’t you agree?” beginning to wipe away the blood, you then disinfected the wounds, put ointment on them, then bandaged them.

he scoffed and stared at the ground, huffed then grumbled. damn, he was moody. however, the pink tint still peeked out from where he was trying to hide his face.

as you placed your hand on his cheek, he finally glanced back at your eyes. you kissed him on both cheeks then pushed your lips on one another, smiling into the intimate action. once you pulled away, his dark eyes gazed into yours, saying everything that he wanted to say but couldn’t. megumi wasn’t a man of words, as he told you when you first got into a relationship. he was confident, he knew his worth but just didn’t feel the need to say much, only when a hundred percent necessary.

but of course, he still tries to respond the best he can when you ask him a question.

“why’d you take so long retrieving ryomen sukuna’s finger from that high school?”

[anakinstwinklebunny]

Summary: FUTUREDAD!ANAKIN x PREGNANT!READER

TW: none, fluff :3 Reminding everyone that today's the last day where you can send a request for BUNNYCEMBER

ANAKIN SKYWALKER was muttering under his breath, frustration evident on his face as he fought with the cake batter that just wouldn't stick. His brows furrowed, and his tongue poked out slightly as he concentrated, clearly on the verge of giving up. But he didn't, not for you.

You were everything to him—everything. And since he found out you were pregnant, he'd gone into full-on protective, spoiling, I-need-to-make-her-happy mode. Because you deserved all of it. So, he found himself baking a cake (with questionable results), trying to make mochi (disastrous), and even stirring noodles for your favorite Chinese dish. Whatever you craved, he’d try his best to fulfill it, even if it meant his cooking was... less than stellar.

Now he was cursing quietly at himself and the cake that refused to stick together with the ice cream. His brows furrowed in frustration, yet his focus never wavered. He was putting everything into it. For you.

"Shit, shit, shit... what the hell is that?" Anakin muttered under his breath, watching a tutorial on his phone. The woman on screen clearly wasn’t doing a good enough job, in his opinion.

Meanwhile, you, still a little hazy from your nap, sniffed the air. Something burned—something... off.

You blinked, disoriented, but the scent was enough to bring you to your feet. Stumbling down the stairs, you wondered if maybe you’d left something on the stove? No, that didn’t make sense. The last time you had cooked was weeks ago, thanks to Anakin’s insistence that you take it easy. So, what was going on?

You rounded the corner into the kitchen and, to your surprise, saw Anakin’s back, his strong frame clad in an apron. An apron. An apron, which was a rarity in your home, especially given his feelings toward cooking.

As you rounded the corner into the living room, you caught sight of Anakin’s back, clad in an apron. “Annie?” Your voice was hoarse from sleep, still sweet but laced with confusion. “What are you doing?”

He turned around at the sound of your voice, a sheepish smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Well, I—” He paused, glancing at the tutorial still playing on his phone, then at the cloud of smoke escaping through the open windows. His shoulders slumped in defeat.

He let out a heavy sigh. “...making you happy.”

Your eyes scanned the kitchen. The burnt cake, flour scattered across the floor, and the flour that now decorated his cheek.

“...Oh.”

Anakin scratched the back of his neck, looking almost guilty. “Yeah, so, uh, I kinda.. sorta.. tried to bake you a cake, make that Chinese dish you’ve been craving so much, and I tried to make some mochi, but...” He trailed off, visibly embarrassed by the chaos he’d created.

You glanced at the mess once more—burnt cake, flour everywhere, a trail of noodles... it was chaotic, but it was also so-him-coded

You smiled, stepping forward, your tired eyes softening as you took in the sight of your husband standing there, all pouty and disheveled, like a lost puppy, trying so hard to make you happy. It made you adore him even more.

Raising yourself on your toes, you grabbed his shirt for balance and placed a gentle, loving kiss on his lips. “It’s perfect,” you whispered, your smile wide, meaning it with all your heart.

"You always say that," he murmured, his eyes flickering over the mess in the kitchen, then back to you. "I just... I wanted to surprise you. I wanted to do something nice."

You wiped the flour off his cheek “Well, you did surprise me, Ani.” your voice full of love "You do it every day."

"Not like this," He grumbled, running his fingers through his messy hair. “I was trying to be sweet for you. To make you happy and satisfied. Not to make you ‘aww’ because I suck at doing some things right.”

You cupped his face, bringing him closer. "Ani, most guys wouldn’t even help their pregnant wives. And you? You’re doing far more than just helping. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me."

Anakin’s face softened at your words - brows coming back to it's place, eyes flickering to reflect this sweet, sweet side of his. He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead before nuzzling into your neck - the favorite activity this man ever had. "Love you..." he murmured, voice muffled against your skin.

"Love you too," you whispered, your heart full of warmth as you held him close.

But then—

“A-Ani... the noodles!”

Anakin’s eyes widened, and in a flash, he rushed to the stove where the pot bubbled dangerously. “Shit!” He quickly turned off the burner. “How the hell did I forget about those...”

In his rush to save food, he grabbed the pot with his bare hands, immediately regretting his decision. He yelped as the hot metal seared against his skin. “Agh! F-fuck... shit...” His voice cracked with the pain as he quickly placed the pot in the sink, his palms stinging.

“God, are you okay?” concern lacing your voice.

“I’m fi-fine! Fucking fine...” He bit back another curse, holding his hands under the cold water, hissing at the burn. “Hhhgh... fuuuuck...”

After minutes of putting his hand in the cold water and bandaging the burn, you two stood in silence, calculating all the mess before he mumbled shortly "I’ll get better at this, I swear" which only brought a small smile on your lips

You shook your head gently "Oh, ani.."

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @divineani @haydensprettyprincess @skyguys-princess @catnipaddictt @heartscone @haydensbbg @inneedsoffanfics @jediavengers @literally-izzy @anisluvrgirl @slutforfinnickodair @xhunnybeeex @fuckmyskywalker @gallerygourmet @deceptiive @anakinskwkler @bimbo-baggins17 @cookybananas @emotionallybruisedx @diorvalentina @sevinax @throughparisallthroughrome @aniiuv @ritosparty @ninastyless @lily-strnlo @thesassypadawan @awhhayden @sydkneez

[freakycafetomoe]

Gojo Satoru’s Sleep Habits

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚꩜ ︵︵pairing !! : Gojo Satoru x Reader ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚꩜ ︵︵contains !! : Clingy!Gojo, Sleepy Cuddles, Sleep-Talking, Teasing, Teeth-Rotting Fluff, Slight Suggestiveness, Gojo Being Gojo™, Soft Dom Energy, Established Relationship, Possessiveness in a Cute Way, Implied Morning Shenanigans, Gojo Is So in Love It’s Painful ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚꩜ ︵︵word count !! : 1.1K words ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚꩜ ︵︵A/N !! : This literally popped into my head minutes before I was about to sleep, and instead of, y’know, actually sleeping like a normal person, I decided to write it all out. Three hours later, here we are. Hope you enjoy this overly indulgent fluff as much as I enjoyed (suffering through) writing it! 💙 ⇢ read on ao3 here.

Gojo Satoru who refuses to sleep alone. It’s not that he can’t—he just won’t. He clings to you like a koala, limbs tangled with yours as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear overnight. Even if you try to wiggle away, his grip tightens in his sleep, and you’re effectively trapped beneath six feet of pure stubbornness.

Gojo Satoru who talks way too much before bed. The moment your head hits the pillow, he suddenly remembers the most random things. “Babe, if I had a twin, do you think you’d be able to tell us apart?” Or, “What if fish are actually plotting something against humanity?” He’s half-serious, half-sleepy, but fully insufferable in so many wayss.

Gojo Satoru who has zero concept of personal space. He sleeps sprawled across the bed like a starfish, limbs everywhere, and you’re lucky if you don’t wake up with an arm across your face. He will roll over and accidentally push you to the edge, then blink innocently when you shove him back.

Gojo Satoru who sleep-talks like a menace. Sometimes it’s nonsense, sometimes it’s your name, and sometimes it’s downright embarrassing. “Mm… yeah, that’s my pretty baby… keep going…” he mumbles, and you’re left wide-eyed at 3 AM, wondering what exactly he’s dreaming about.

Gojo Satoru who absolutely steals the blankets. No matter how well you tuck yourself in, you’ll wake up shivering because someone has burrito-wrapped himself in all the covers. If you try to take them back, he sleepily groans, “Mm-mm, mine,” and tightens his grip.

Gojo Satoru who wakes up before you just to stare at your sleeping face. It should be creepy, but his expression is so soft, so ridiculously lovestruck that it makes your heart squeeze. And then, just as you’re about to wake up peacefully, he pokes your cheek and whispers, “Rise and shine, my little mochi.”

Gojo Satoru who has no concept of morning peace. He wakes you up in the most chaotic ways—blasting music, peppering your face with kisses, or flopping his entire weight on top of you. “Time to wake up, baby!” he chirps, as if he didn’t just crush you in the process.

Gojo Satoru who, despite being an absolute menace, never forgets to whisper, “Goodnight, love you,” right before he drifts off. And even if he snores, steals the blankets, or traps you in his hold, you wouldn’t trade sleeping beside him for anything in the world.

Gojo Satoru who doesn’t just sleep next to you—he absorbs you. If you turn your back on him, he’ll shuffle closer, nosing against your nape with a sleepy, “Where d’you think you’re going?” before looping his arms around your waist and pulling you flush against his chest.

Gojo Satoru who randomly wakes up in the middle of the night just to check if you’re still there. If you’ve shifted even an inch away from him, he’s immediately pulling you back with a low, grumbly, “Nope. Mine.” His fingers curl around your wrist, lazy but possessive, like he’s making sure you won’t slip away in his sleep.

Gojo Satoru who runs hot like a furnace. At first, cuddling seems nice, warm, cozy—until twenty minutes later when you’re sweating and pushing him off. He pouts in protest, mumbling, “But I love you,” as if that’s a valid excuse for slowly roasting you alive.

Gojo Satoru who absolutely abuses his ability to fall asleep anywhere, anytime. He’ll use you as his personal pillow, dozing off with his head in your lap, your chest, or draped over your back like a lazy cat. And if you move even slightly, he groans, “Five more minutes, babe,” as if he’s the one being woken up.

Gojo Satoru who fake sleeps just to mess with you. If you try to wake him up, he stays perfectly still, breathing evenly. Until you lean in close. That’s when he suddenly grabs you, flipping you under him with a cheeky grin. “Oops. Looks like you woke up the monster,” he teases, before smothering you in sleepy kisses.

Gojo Satoru who sometimes gets hit with late-night thoughts about you. He’ll run a finger down your cheek, tracing the slope of your nose, the curve of your lips, utterly entranced. And even if you’re fast asleep, he’ll murmur softly, “I love you, y’know?” like a secret only meant for you to hear.

Gojo Satoru who sleeps like he has magnetic hands—no matter how you start off, he always finds a way to latch onto you in his sleep. One moment, he’s on his side, and the next, his arm is thrown over your waist, his fingers lazily resting on your hip.

Gojo Satoru who instinctively grabs your ass whenever he shifts in bed. Half-asleep, groggy, and barely conscious? Doesn’t matter. His hand still sneaks under the covers, absentmindedly squeezing as he hums in satisfaction. “Mmm… comfy,” he murmurs, nuzzling into your neck like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Gojo Satoru who can’t fall asleep unless he has a handful of something. His fingers skim up your thigh, resting just beneath the hem of your shorts. If you try to move away, he whines—sleepy, needy, and utterly shameless. “Nooo, don’t run away,” he slurs, tightening his grip. “Need my pillow.”

Gojo Satoru who wakes up with you in his hands. Sometimes it’s a lazy, teasing squeeze on your boob as he yawns, other times it’s a slow, lingering stroke over your stomach, down your hip, before he pulls you flush against him. “Mornin’, baby,” he drawls, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “Slept real good.”

Gojo Satoru who tucks his hand between your thighs when it’s cold, grinning against your skin when you shiver. “See? I keep you warm,” he murmurs smugly, slotting himself against your back as he hooks a leg over yours. The truth is, he’s the one that gets cold easily, but he’ll never admit it.

Gojo Satoru who, even in deep sleep, knows when you try to escape. The second you move, his grip tightens, a lazy, incoherent grumble slipping past his lips as he tugs you closer. “Nuh-uh. Stay,” he mumbles against your hair, fingers flexing against your waist.

Gojo Satoru who doesn’t just sleep next to you—he sleeps on you, with you, around you. No matter the position, no matter how much you move, one thing is always guaranteed: his hands will always find their way back to you.

Gojo Satoru who, for all his sleep habits, all the clinginess and talkativeness, he always makes sure you fall asleep knowing just how much he adores you. Even if it means being trapped in his arms, overheated, or subjected to his ridiculous bedtime thoughts, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Credits to @cafekitsune for the pretty divider! :3

⋆𐙚 ₊ ° ⊹ ♡꩜ ©freakycafetomoe : Do not steal, modify, tweak, translate, or plagiarize anything from my blog. Do not use / copy my template or theme. Respect my work and creativity, love u guys. 🚨

navigation. taglist. jjk masterlist. ˚ 　 ⤹ 　 ❝ ©freakycafetomoe

[meiieiri]

𝐢’𝐥𝐥 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞 [toji fushiguro]

synopsis: in which toji hears the words “happy birthday” for the first time.

pairing: toji fushiguro x reader | song inspo: cliché | visuals: keychain | hidden inventory: the lost tapes series masterlist

warnings: brief mentions of physical and emotional abuse (toji’s painful past, really, i just wanna give him a big hug). inspired by the works of @/ddub1618 on twt!

He could get in trouble for this, now, normally, he doesn’t sneak out of training but Toji’s curiosity got the better of him this time. Being one of the taller kids, he stays close to the ground so his hair doesn’t stick up from the bushes. He holds his wooden katana close, peeking when he hears delighted laughter coming from the engawa of the estate, a sound that’s a little rare here in the Zenin estate.

“Happy birthday!”

Toji’s breath hitches in his throat when he hears the happy giggles of one of his younger cousins, and he stealthily sneaks over to a tree that’s just a few feet from one of the estate’s buildings, hiding behind the trunk, peeking from time to time to see what’s going on. He watches with a glittery look in his eyes when his aunt presents his third or fourth cousin, Toji doesn’t really know at this point, with a gift box, happily urging the little one to open it.

A thousand thoughts were running through his head as he inquisitively watched the toddler open their presents and have some of the sweet colorful mochi his parents must have requested from the estate kitchens for this special day. The sweet smell of osekihan lingered in the air, and Toji’s stomach growls at the decadent aroma of the slow-cooked red bean rice. He doesn’t get to have sweets often, so he is left wondering if his parents would allow such a thing for him on his own birthday.

“Toji, what are you doing here?”

Toji stiffens at the sound of his older brother’s voice. “Shh, I’m trying to watch.” He says, pressing an index finger to his lips, making a shushing sound. “Look there.”

Jinichi momentarily places his hands over his hips, indulging his younger brother. “It’s just a birthday. What’s so special about it?”

The younger Zenin huffs at the arid response. “I’ve never had one of those before.”

Toji looks down at the broken fingernails on his hands, worn out from the grueling training regimen today, he imagines what it would be like to hold a present and not sharp edged rocks for once. He can only imagine the excitement he’d feel as he slowly pulls the green gift wrapper off the box, being extra careful with it because it looked too pretty and expensive to haphazardly tear apart. As for the tooth-rotting mochi he’ll be receiving, he’ll do his best to only eat tiny pieces of it at a time, making sure to leave some of the sweet treat for later because who knows when he’ll ever get to eat such a luxury again?

“Say, why don’t I get a birthday? It’s always just you getting one every year.”

Jinichi rolls his eyes. “Everyone has a birthday, dimwit. But not everyone celebrates their birthday.” Toji scowls in displeasure at that, his bottom lip curling up in a pout. At his brother’s petulant silence, Jinichi taps out of the conversation, turning on his heel to go back to the training grounds. “I’m heading back, I’m not about to catch another beating because I went to go look for you.”

“Go do whatever you want. I’m staying.”

And with that, Toji turns his attention back to the joyous occasion, looking longingly as the little birthday celebrant receives a loving peck on the cheek from his mother. He doesn’t even notice the familiar ache in his heart that accompanied how his fingers touched his cheek longing for the day his own mother does that for him.

In a perfect world, all children are wanted; they’d have warm beds to snuggle in at night in place of a rundown storehouse’s cold hardwood floor, their cheeks would be showered with kisses and not harsh slaps, they’d be lulled to sleep by warm lullabies and not the sound of their parents arguing why their child turned out this way like they’re some factory defect, they’d be given toys and not weapons that they need to master.

In a perfect world, Toji would have spent his sixth birthday with a plate of nerikiri in front of him and not some random rocks he found in the garden and lined up in a neat row to make it resemble the white bean dessert. He’d be surrounded by the people he so painfully loves and not the sympathetic ants that crawled on the grass in a tucked away corner of the Zenin estate’s compound on the day he was born into this world.

In a perfect world, Toji wouldn’t have to sing himself a ‘happy birthday’ because no one else ever cared to do it for him.

“Happy birthday, Toji…”

“Toji!”

He must have been zoning out. You told him to meet you outside Shinjuku station today for your date and he doesn’t really know how long he’s been sitting in the waiting area, but it must have been long enough for his mind to wander to the agonizing recollections of his childhood. Toji looks up to see you hurrying to tap your train card on the turnstile with a tired smile that’s pretty hard to miss.

Toji stands up to meet you halfway and you giggle, launching yourself in his arms. Toji loves it when you do that, it shows how you trust him completely that in any and every given second, he’ll always catch you. Burying his face in your hair, he inhales the floral smell of your shampoo, the haze in his mind dissipating ever so slightly.

He frowns when you’re the first to pull away and he opens his mouth to whine about it, but he instantly drops it when he sees you holding up a little gift-wrapped box in front of him. Toji blinks. “This for me?” He almost couldn’t believe it. “You actually remembered?”

You’ve been casually pretending this entire week that you didn’t know what was coming up because you’ve been trying to keep your little surprise low-key until today. Nodding, you kiss the scar on his lips.

“Of course I did! That’s why I was late, I was looking for some…uh…well, never mind! Just open it!” You tap your toe against the floor shyly as his fingers nimbly and painstakingly unwrap the present.

As if he had stepped into a time machine, Toji pictures himself back in the Zenin estate, his knees pulled to his chest as he celebrates his birthday alone, a solitary tear streaming down his face. Except something’s different like the time-space continuum hit a snag or something. The difference being a miniature version of you, smiling adoringly at him, as you plop down next to him on the dirt ground, not caring if your little dress got soiled. In his hands, in this version of events gone by, is a half-opened present wrapped in a beautiful blue gift paper.

Oh, how it would have been nice had that been the case all those years ago when your gentle hands would cup both his cheeks, your thumbs gently rubbing his bruised cheeks. How you would have brightened his days with your warm sunshine.

After what seems like an eternity of gazing into your orbs, seeing his modified past play like a montage from the light reflecting off your eyes, Toji opens the gift and he picks up a crocheted keychain, his index finger flicking the metal hook.

“A frog.”

You chortle as he points out the obvious. “It was the easiest thing to crochet,” you said defensively. “I was late today because I was looking for these,” you point to the black beads serving as the little frog’s cute eyes.

“There’s a…” Toji trails off, his voice wavering. You know what he’s talking about, so you take his bigger hand in your delicate ones. The two of you gazing at your little masterpiece.

“Sorry, I kinda ripped it when I pulled the yarn a little too hard. Guess I was getting sleepy.” You rubbed the back of your head sheepishly. “Then, I kinda ran out of green yarn to fix it, so, I had to improvise. I’m sorry if it seems a little offensive—“

Toji cuts you off with an abrupt kiss, not caring if the two of you were attracting a crowd of commuters as the two of you kiss in the middle of a crowded train station. “It’s not half-bad, squirt. Don’t worry.” He ruffles your hair, eagerly suppressing his smile as he looks at the frog keychain that’s meant to resemble him with the tiny pink scar you knit on the corner of the frog’s smiley lips.

Your heart practically leaps out of your chest and you nudge him gently as he continues to stare at the keychain. “Don’t lose it now.”

“You kidding? I’m putting this in a damn safe.”

The two of you share a laugh at that, your fingers interlacing with one another as your lips brush against each other once more.

“Happy birthday, Toji.”

[peachsayshi]

🩵

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ minors / ageless / blank blogs (dni) - dad gojo x reader

papa's scary face is how your daughter describes it. the difference when her usually bubbly, bright father morphs into somebody else. the expression he makes when she accidentally walks in on you and satoru having a serious argument. when she catches him coming home from work with his shoulders taut and his brows furrowed.

satoru's daughter is the light of his life - his little peace of heaven on earth. that's why he is so terrible when it comes to discipline (a lecture you constantly have to give him). she has never been on the receiving end of your lover's scary face. isn't familiar with the hardened muscles he express when serious, or notices the angry twitch of his jaw when frustrated.

it's rare, but these moments happen. satoru may possess godlike powers, but he's still inherently human. his very essence the same that make up you and your daughter.

you're surprised when you see her quietly tiptoe her way towards the sofa, towards you and her father. her energetic aura dwindled by silence. her bottom lip is tucked tightly between her teeth, her beautiful round eyes varnished with tears ready to fall.

satoru's face instantly drops with concern. his body immediately growing protective with his arm lightly slipping away from around your waist.

"you okay, mochi?" he asks sweetly, his brow quirking at her arms tucked behind her back.

you both know that she's hiding something.

"I did something bad" she says quietly, her worried voice so small it makes satoru spring to his feet to meet her halfway.

he crouches on his knees, his height daunting compared to hers. he lightly tugs at her frosty pigtail, and she sniffles ever so slightly to keep her brave face in place.

always trying to hold a strong front, just like her father.

"what did you do?" he asks with a gentle smile, watching her shift from one foot to the next.

" I..uhm...I was playing with your toys," she mumbles, unable to meet his gaze as she keeps her own firmly on her pattering feet. "I know they're yours. I know I have’ta ask first. I was tryna to be...uhm..."

"careful?" satoru completes, tilting his head in an attempt to make contact with his hesitant daughter who still hasn't figured out all her words just yet.

"yeh that..." she grumbles to reveal what's behind her hands.

you press your fingers against your lips when you see it.

satoru's favorite pair of sunglasses.

a limited edition pair from one of his favorite high fashion brands. he splurged a stupid amount of money of it. even kept the packaging because he hyper fixated on the details. the frame was extremely delicate, which is why he rarely wore it. but he gushed over it for almost a year since it's pre-release was announced.

his daughter, however, has a habit of sneaking into her father's room to steal one of the many pairs of shades that your lover wore. she enjoyed "modeling" them, and would flash poses in front of your bedroom mirror while sifting through his collection like they were treasure.

you and satoru have caught her doing this many times before, and while the both of you found it adorable, you realized that your daughter wasn't very careful when handling things.

she scratched the lens of another pair that belonged to her father. bent the temple of a second, which he hasn't been able to fix.

so, when satoru received these specific shades, the two of you sat her down to try and explain that she couldn't freely just loot around his stuff without asking for permission.

right now, those very shades where split into two in his daughter's hands.

satoru's jaw goes slack when he picks them up from her tiny palms, his cheeks tinting a slight red from surprise.

"im sorry, papa," she timidly begs, bringing her now empty hands to cover her eyes. her body heaves, you can see that she is trying really hard not to cry.

satoru allows the shock to settle for only just a minute, before he places the broken sunglasses by his side. there's something else that washes over him - relief.

he circles his arms around her wrists, tugging them away from her face but she keeps them fiercely in place. he chuckles with ease, shaking his head in disbelief as he loosens his grip to grab her waist and pull her into his frame.

"silly girl," he teases. "it's okay, papa's not mad, I promise..."

"but I didn't listen to what you 'n mama said-"

"I know," he sighs calmly, "and you know that was wrong, right? not to listen?"

she nods her head yes, her hands still covering her face.

"Eyes on me, grabby hands..." satoru lectures but she shakes her head no.

"Don't wanna see your scary face," she awkwardly admits, and you can't help but bite back a smile.

she's far too innocent to understand what those expressions. to young to acknowledge that they weren't always bad. that they were, in fact, normal. and that one day she will bare the cross of these complex emotions herself.

"scary face?" satoru huffs, "you think daddy has a scary face?"

she drops her hands to her side swiftly, revealing her guilt and wet cheeks. she furiously shakes her head no, taking in a large inhale as she wipes her face with the back of her hands.

it makes your heart ache watching her try to comprehend the weight of her small feelings.

"nu-uh," she reassures, "but-but sometimes..."

satoru kisses her plush cheek three times over to interrupt her eyes, "I am not mad at you, mochi," he consoles, "just promise you won't do it again."

"pinky swear!" she yelps as she searches for his long, slender digits. the relief brings the color back into her face, the pale sheet of white bloomed with a tiny blush. she hooks her pinky around satoru's, the size different so prominent, before eagerly wrapping her arms around his neck. "m'sorry, papa"

"it's okay, baby," he coos as he kisses her forehead.

the scene is heartwarming, and while satoru maintained his cool, you can still read the disappointment on his face.

the pair slip away from each other's arms, your daughter picking up the broken shades as she patters her way back down the hallway to give you both some privacy.

satoru gets up, his hand clutching his chest as he turns to give you a pathetically sad expression.

"how much does it hurt?" you tease, watching him drag his feet back to you.

you grumble when he collapses into your chest, burying his nose into your neck as he wraps his strong arms around your waist.

"this is the worst heartbreak of my life," he groans obnoxiously, and you raise your own brows in surprise.

"I thought our break up was the worst heartbreak you’ve experienced," you chide, twirling the strands of his soft hair between your fingers.

"seriously? you want to bring that up now? while I'm in mourning?"

you giggle when he sinks his teeth into the delicate flesh of your neck, nipping at your skin tenderly before exhaling with sorrow.

"ugh, she's got me wrapped around her fingers like taffy," he moans like he can’t believe his own defeat, "did you see her face? how can I even get mad?"

"I know, my love," you coo, consoling your own crybaby.

Minutes pass in silence before satoru finally ponders that, "maybe, I can find another pair online or something-"

"papa!" your daughter chirps, interrupting the moment as quickly as she graced it.

satoru untangles himself from your embrace, sitting upright to see her pigtails bouncing as she scampers towards you both. her steps hit the ground fast. he doesn't even have a chance to answer before she climbs on his lap, her eyes still a little glossy from shedding her tears. she wipes away the rogue strands of feathery hairs that stuck to her temple, before showing off what's in her hand.

"I fixed it for you," she beams, her face hopeful and optimistic.

Satoru picks up the glasses from between her fingers, noticing that she had used one of her washy tapes to stick the bridge back together.

It was blue, and had little ducks on it.

You can feel an eruption of laughter bubbling in your chest, but pure love bleeds through Satoru's eyes, completely moved by her gesture.

"Aww, mochi," he gently replies, tracing his thumb over the tape.

He arches forward to kiss her nose, while she seeks another embrace between mumbling into his ear that she loves him.

You simply melt by their side.

Satoru doesn't wear the glasses anymore, but he still keeps them. Bringing them out every once in a while to show his daughter that he still loves them.

Even though they sit quite lopsided on his handsome face.

[requests are closed]

[mangostarjam]

knot happening (part two) — bnha, alpha!bakugou katsuki x f!reader, aged up characters, established relationship, a/b/o dynamics, use of "baby", "pipsqueak", "brat", "little shit" as pet names, dubious HR ethics, questionable sex toys, reader wears a skirt at the end, smut, creampies, oral sex, knotting, omegaverse!au for the spring fever collab run by @lorelune ! 10k words lmao

part one

your new company has some interesting policies for employee heat cycles, but your boyfriend and mate has no intention of letting you off easy

It starts with cravings.

All of Bakugou Katsuki's well intentioned efforts to keep you from dying of malnutrition or scurvy fly out the window as you enter your pre-heat. Your Pro Hero boyfriend and mate turns his nose up at the strawberry pocky you crunch on the couch, rolls his eyes at the cherry and dark chocolate chip ice cream you scoop after dinner, and pouts at the mango and sticky rice cups you devour after work.

"It all has fruit in it," you point out. "And besides, you always steal half my daifuku mochi before I can finish it. Complain about that, you thief!"

Katsuki, to his credit, retaliates by making your favorite veggie-laden meals for the cute bentos he puts together for your lunches. You pop open the container and you're greeted by stupidly cute penguins crafted from seaweed and rice, mushrooms and bell peppers nestled next to perfect rolled egg omelettes, carrots cut into little stars and cucumbers that look like clouds.

You take a photo of your lunch and send it to your boyfriend. He texts back "?????" and you frown at your phone.

Katsuki calls a moment later. "Don't tell me you're suddenly allergic to cucumbers."

His voice is rough and low — he must be in the office, if the distant chatter of his fellow heroes is anything to go by — but he's probably turned off into a side hallway because Eijiro's teasing has lately turned into casual remarks about marriage, and… yeah, of course Katsuki's gonna marry you, but he doesn't need his best friend to bring it up every time he's on the phone with you.

"I might be allergic to how cute these are," you say, but there's laughter in your voice and he scrunches his nose, so pleased he can feel the tips of his ears heat up. "How am I supposed to eat this?! This poor rice penguin has never done anything wrong in its life!"

Katsuki snorts quietly into his gloved hand. "D'you want me to make your food look ugly next time?"

You beam down at your bento and kick your feet beneath your desk. "Thanks for making me lunch, loverboy."

"Can't have you dyin' while I'm fuckin' you dumb," Katsuki's already low voice gets lower. The rough timbre of it so intimately in your ear sends a thread of desire straight to your core and you shift uncomfortably, glancing around your office. Luckily, it's empty — everyone's out for lunch because it's such a beautiful spring day, but you forgot to take your allergy medicine and you don't want to tempt disaster. "Leaving you in bed this morning was a crime."

"H-huh?" you set your feet on the ground and sit up a little straighter. "Babe, shut up. What if someone overhears you!"

"Then they'd be too damn close to you and I'll need to punch their lights out," Katsuki states matter of factly.

"So protective," you tease, settling back into your seat. He's trying to rile you up — he knows what his low tone does to you — but you're going to make it through your pre-heat without alerting your company even if it kills you. "I'll see you later, 'kay? Kick some ass, baby."

Your boyfriend mumbles something that sounds suspiciously cheesy before he hangs up, and you eat your lunch with gusto. It's day two of your pre-heat and so far it seems like nobody can tell. Your cravings are easy to pass off as a strong sweet tooth, and Katsuki's patrol schedule has kept him away from picking you up after work. You slapped a pheromone suppressor on your neck this morning and then styled up your business casual outfit with a loose silk scarf, so it should be… fine.

Your phone vibrates with a text and you swipe it open without thinking. The sound that leaves your mouth at the sight that greets you is unholy and you slam your phone facedown on your desk.

What the fuck.

"…You alright there, newbie?" Akane from Sales pauses in the act of draping her jacket over her chair. "Did you get a spam call?"

"Just peachy!" you croak out. You clear your throat as more of your coworkers file back in from their lunch break. "I thought I saw a bug, that's all!"

More like a closeup photo of your boyfriend's bulge in his hero suit, clearly stiff and straining hard against the heat resistant fabric, his easily recognizable gloved hand dangerously close to palming the thick outline —

Akane makes a funny face. "And you smashed it with your phone?"

"It was just instinct," you say sheepishly, "I'm fine with bugs where they belong, and they don't belong on my desk!"

Akane and your other coworkers nod at this and the conversation shifts, so you take advantage of everyone's inattention to pick your phone back up. You do it gingerly, as if there really is a bug squished underneath, but really you're just trying not to accidentally flash Pro Hero Dynamight's crotch shot to the world.

You can see the headlines now:

"Pro Hero Dynamight Ready to Blow!"

"Dynamight Explodes Up to the Top Ten Sexiest Pro Heroes with Infamous Shot!"

"Is the Great Explosion Murder God Packing the Heat?"

Katsuki's PR team would kill you. You quickly slide your phone beneath your desk and swipe away from your texts, breathing a sigh of relief when the (annoyingly tasteful) shot disappears from your screen.

Your phone vibrates with texts the rest of the day. No more photos (you can't tell if you should be grateful or mournful about this) but judging from the text previews you hastily swipe away on your screen, Katsuki's clearly out to get you. He seemed normal this morning — his lips brushed your cheek gently as you drew the blankets up to your chin — so what is his problem?

You finally get a chance to read his texts while waiting for your train at the station. Your eyes widen as you scroll through the messages — they're filled with his typical profanity, but he's practically written an instruction manual on all the ways he's imagined fucking you today. Your hand rises unwittingly to your pheromone suppressor patch. Maybe you should wear it at night, too, so he won't get so worked up? Though you kind of doubt it's working at all, since reading his texts is making you shift where you stand, heat pooling in your core.

The station is crowded with evening commuters — packs of students giggling and chattering among themselves, other tired office workers tapping away at their phones, little kids holding hands so they won't get separated — and nobody is paying you any mind. Maybe your suppressors are working after all? Wait — are they supposed to keep your pre-heat pheromones from leaking out or in?

Your ears perk as the pleasant tone signaling the arrival of your train jingles through the crowd. It's a quick ride three stops down to your apartment, which is one stop away from Katsuki's agency Ground Zero. When the two of you were looking for a place together, Katsuki insisted that it be just outside of his patrol range — close enough for him to get there quickly, but far enough that he would be able to actually relax at home. You can hear the familiar sound of a knife meeting a cutting board while you toe off your shoes in the genkan, lifting your nose to the air as the comforting smell of rice cooking wafts towards you.

"I'm home!" you call out, bypassing the kitchen to strip out of your work clothes. You sigh with relief as you toss your pants into the laundry basket, dragging one of Katsuki's well-worn hoodies over your head and tugging a pair of his workout shorts up your hips. They smell like him — smoky and rich and a little bit sweet — and you burrow into the comfort with a hum of pleasure.

The sizzle and crack of veggies and rice hitting the pan fill the air as you make your way into the kitchen. You follow your nose and ears happily, mouth already watering at the thought of eating more of Katsuki's cooking, but you stop dead at the entrance and make a funny strangled sound.

Asshole. Is he doing this on purpose? He's totally doing this on purpose.

"Welcome home," Katsuki says, rising from a crouch to his full, intimidating height and giving the pan another flick of his wrist. Sometimes you forget how broad your Pro Hero boyfriend is, but it's abundantly clear when he's standing in front of the stove shirtless like some kind of wet dream. He barely gives you a once over, just a casual glance of red that sends heat rushing to your cheeks before he turns his attention back to the stove.

You know — and you know he knows — that certain instincts flare up with your pre-heat. Everyone has different symptoms. The food cravings are one thing, for you, but they're manageable and easy to pass off as unrelated. Wanting to be covered in your mate's scent is another thing entirely, and while it's a relatively common symptom, it never fails to embarrass you, especially because you know how much Katsuki secretly likes it.

"What're you making?" you ask. Katsuki keeps his eyes on his pan, so you take the opportunity to ogle him freely, admiring the strong set of his shoulders and the firm lines of back muscle on full display. Stupid Katsuki with his stupid workouts making him look like a goddamn god. From your position at the kitchen entrance, you're close enough to see the pale scars crisscrossing his skin and the way the edge of his lips lift in a smug, self-satisfied smirk as he catches you checking him out. He's easily the hottest man you've ever seen in your life.

"Chicken fried rice," he says, snapping you out of your blatant stare. "It's almost done."

"You're telling me a chicken fried this rice?" you joke, grinning widely when Katsuki snorts and rolls his eyes at you. "Here, lemme set the table."

The two of you prepare for dinner companionably, though Katsuki definitely hovers more than usual. You can't help but lean back into his firm (and very naked) chest as he stands behind you while you reach up for plates, his hands heavy on your hips to help you balance. He also sets your plate piled high with fried rice next to his own at the table instead of across as usual, and when you make a questioning sound he just arches a brow expectantly.

"What? Sit and eat your fucking vegetables, pipsqueak."

"That's not my question," you giggle, accepting the seat he holds out for you. He spins it sideways easily, so that you're suddenly facing his own chair instead of the table, a casual show of strength that sends a shiver up your spine. Then he sits next to you with a grunt and immediately grabs your bare legs to drape them over his lap, forcing you to cling to his arm in surprise. "What the hell!"

"Shaddup," Katsuki mumbles, keeping a firm grip on your bare legs. "You can eat like this, right?"

You can, though you have to wiggle a bit and hold your plate in your lap. The changed angle gives you a perfect view of your boyfriend's profile, and you look at him for a moment, admiring the cut of his jawline and the slope of his nose.

"Quit starin'," he says. The pale scar along his cheek lifts when he shoots you a smug grin. "Your food's gonna get cold."

"You're the one who made me sit like this," you point out. You scratch at the side of your neck absently, but your nail catches on the suppressant patch and you pause. "Do you know if these patches are to keep the pheromones in or out?"

Katsuki takes a big bite of his fried rice and chews carefully. "Nothing's gonna stop your pre-heat from affectin' you," he says evenly. "And normally it'd keep 'em from leakin' out, but," he takes a deep breath and finally meets your eyes, "I'm your mate, so that shit doesn't work on me."

"Oh." Your voice is small even to your own ears. Katsuki's red hot gaze stays fixed on you for another long, torturous moment before he drags his attention to his food. "Is that why… you sent me a dick pic?"

Katsuki chokes on the spoonful of fried rice he just brought to his lips and his hand comes up to slap against the table. You crack a grin and pick up your own spoon. "That wasn't — wasn't a fuckin' dick pic, you perv."

"Sure looked like it to me," you say cheerfully. The fried rice is delicious and you nearly moan with satisfaction, wiggling in your seat as the flavors burst along your tongue. "It was a photo featuring the area of your body where your dick is at, so obviously, it was a dick pic!"

"Fuck off," he mumbles, shoving another spoonful into his mouth. "How was work? Anybody notice?"

"It was great," you say, "and nah, I don't think anyone noticed. I wore a scarf to hide the patch, y'know. Pretty good, huh?"

"You're a smart one," Katsuki says, and you preen under the praise. "You gonna wear a scarf the rest of the week, then?"

You shrug and wiggle your legs a little just to get Katsuki to clamp down on them with one strong arm. You flex your feet, feeling his thighs tense in turn, and eat another spoonful of dinner. "I don't think I can. It's supposed to get real hot this week and besides, I wanna… wear one of your shirts."

"Hah?" Katsuki nearly drops his spoon. "How're you gonna do that? It'll be too big for you, pipsqueak."

"I'll figure it out. I've done it before!" Your grin turns mischievous. "Want me to model for you after dinner?"

Katsuki shoots you a look. "You tryna get into my pants already, sweetheart? What happened to resisting pre-heat?"

"It's not like we'll be doing anything," you point out. "I have faith in you, babe."

Your boyfriend doesn't answer, but his hand tightens around your thigh, leaving indents in the soft give of your body. The two of you switch to safer topics, like the old ladies who ran into Katsuki on patrol (again) because they wanted to pass on their grandkids' sketches, and your new friends Akane and Shimizu who complimented your scarf. You do the dishes afterwards, but Katsuki stays glued to your back, thick arms wrapped firmly around your waist.

"I think you've got too much faith in me," Katsuki frowns, holding one of his button ups against your frame a bit later. You shed his hoodie and your shirt and bra, tossing them in the direction of the laundry basket and holding your arms out for him to dress you in his shirt. He eyes your chest openly, sending a spark of heat zipping down your spine, but slides the sleeves over your arms and helps you button it up without saying anything else.

His hands are careful as he slides the buttons home. You force yourself to breathe evenly as he crowds into your space, that smoky sweet scent filling your nose as he presses his lips to your temple and noses at your ear. His big hands with all their callouses and scars are gentle as he smooths the fabric over your shoulders, leaving a wave of warmth as he slides them around to your back to tug you closer into his embrace.

You hug him back, resting your palms against his shoulder blades and pressing into the skin there as he shifts. It's quiet as he breathes you in, his chest rising and falling against your own. Distantly you can hear trains rattling on the tracks, teenagers being rowdy in front of the nearby konbini, babies wailing for bedtime several doors down. You close your eyes and listen to Katsuki's heartbeat instead, though a furrow forms between your eyebrows as his heartbeat quickens.

"Are you… good?" you whisper.

"…'m fine."

"Okay… are you having a heart attack?"

"Don't be stupid," Katsuki snorts. "As if I'd get worked up over a lil' huggin'."

"Sure, sure," you grin up at him, smiling wider as his eyes soften at your expression. "It's not like I'm your mate or anything. It's fine if you get worked up, babe — I think you're pretty hot, too."

"Aren't you supposed to be figurin' out tomorrow's outfit?"

You detach yourself from him reluctantly, though he doesn't let you get very far, latching onto your wrist and padding along behind you as you go to peruse the closet. Katsuki pulls you into his chest again as you eye the various options. Despite favoring athletic, technical clothes — fabrics that are easy to move in at a moment's notice — he does own a wide range of clothing thanks to his various sponsorships.

"Does it ever bother you, wearing clothes with these brands associated with them?" you ask, rubbing a silky suit jacket sleeve and peering up at him.

"Nah," Katsuki shrugs. "My team's halfway decent 'bout choosin' who we partner with, so it's not a big deal."

"Should I be less sensitive about my company's branded sex toys?" Your voice is small. You turn back to the clothes so you don't have to look at him, but Katsuki presses a kiss to the back of your hair and huffs.

"If it bothers you, it bothers you," he says gruffly. "We're good, baby. You don't hafta tell your company squat. I'm still your mate no matter what."

You repeat Katsuki's words to yourself the next day, swathed in his button up shirt tucked into a pair of his trousers with the ankles rolled up, as Akane and Shimizu show you the storeroom where they keep the company branded sex toys. Everyone's email notifications had pinged this morning with the news that Kensuke in Accounting would be entering his heat soon, so your two new coworker besties had dragged you along on a mission to prepare his celebratory heat cycle package.

"Wow," you say blankly, "they really are branded."

Shimizu holds up a cock ring with your company's name emblazoned along the side. "When you're in the moment, you really don't notice the name, but I guess it is a little garish, huh?"

"It's just so… big," you say, pulling over another box. "Is the company worried we'll forget who we work for or something?"

"I think they just want to be supportive," Akane laughs, holding up a dildo that wobbles wildly in her hand. "We'll need to have our drinking party at the end of the week, I think. Kensuke-san said he'll bring his mate if it's late enough for her to make it. I guess her alpha senses get really sensitive when he's this close to heat."

"You'll come, won't you?" Shimizu asks you. She works in HR and it shows as she packs up a care basket with ease. "Most people don't bring their mates unless it's their own pre-heat party, but I'm sure everyone would love to meet yours!"

You wrinkle your nose before you can help it. The idea of alcohol and Katsuki and your coworkers sounds like a bad combination, especially when you're desperately trying to hide your own pre-heat symptoms from the company. "He doesn't really drink…"

"There'll be nonalcoholic drinks served too," Akane says. "My mate gets her panties all in a twist when I come home drunk."

"It's alright if you don't want to," Shimizu assures you. "We'll just meet him when it's time for your own pre-heat party!"

You freeze in the act of pulling out a package of anal beads where each bead seems to have one character of your company's name stamped on it, but luckily neither of them seem to notice. "Can you do me a favor, in the spirit of our new friendship?" you ask, "Could you guys please choose the toys with the least amount of branding?"

Akane and Shimizu laugh. "Aye, aye, boss!"

"We should just start prepping yours now," Akane says breezily. "That way we'll be ready when it hits you!"

"We can even give it to you early," Shimizu adds, "and I'll just mark it off in your file. You've got next week off, so maybe you can put it to good use ahead of time."

She winks and you laugh nervously, but thankfully they don't know you well enough yet to pick up on it. "That would be great, actually," you say, fidgeting with a packet of flavored lube. "I'm sure my boyfriend will love that."

There's a knock at the door as the three of you dig into boxes and sort misplaced toys into their proper shelves. Someone you vaguely recognize from the IT department pokes their head in and immediately zeroes in on you. "Ah, sorry to interrupt," they say sheepishly, glancing at the fuzzy handcuffs Shimizu is brandishing, "but it looks like your mate is here, and he says it's important."

You stare at them. "My… mate…?"

"Uh. Yes," they say, "Mr. Dynamight?"

What?

You wave goodbye to Akane and Shimizu and thank the IT person for the notice before speed-walking towards the entrance lobby of your building. The elevators always take too long, so you head for the stairs, even though it'll take you out towards the back end of the building. There's no reason for Katsuki to show up at your workplace, especially not when he should still be on patrol. He hasn't messaged you much today, either, but that's not unusual. Did something happen? Is he hurt?

Your heart is pounding so loudly in your ears that you nearly miss the gruff "whoa!" as a densely muscled arm suddenly swings out to snag you by the waist. You're lifted straight off your feet and shoved into a supply closet before you even have a chance to open your mouth and scream, but Katsuki is quick to slap a rough hand over your lips.

"Shh, it's just me, shit, sorry," he grunts, wincing as you bite his hand. "Fuck, your teeth are sharp."

"Katsuki!" You have the presence of mind to keep your voice low as you shout. He must have a reason for ambushing you in the back of your company building, so even if you don't know what's going on, you know better than to risk getting caught. "What are you doing here?"

The closet is dark, though light seeps through the bottom of the door he's shoved you against from the hallway he just caught you in. You can barely make out his deep red eyes with the lighting and his gauntlets and gloves resting on the shelf by his shoulder — everything else is cast in shadows. "I needed to see you."

"… huh?"

"I'm not losing, you got that? I'm just makin' up for yesterday."

"What're you talking ab— hey!" You back up into the door with a thunk as Katsuki leans forward, his thick arms caging you in on either side. "Bakugou Katsuki I swear on your All Might trading cards I'll knee you in the balls if you blow my cover here."

He snorts and ducks his head closer. You can feel the soft puffs of his laughter against your neck as you crane your face away, desperate to maintain the upper hand here even though his proximity is triggering something alarming between your thighs.

"Knew you'd look hot as fuck in my clothes," he mumbles, inhaling sharp along the soft skin of your neck. "You smell so fucking good, too."

"I used a strawberry lip balm today," you breathe, careful to stay pressed back against the door. Katsuki is close enough now that you can feel his chest rumble when he laughs.

He presses his lips to the hammering pulse beneath your jaw. "I'm not gonna blow your fuckin' cover," he says lowly. "I'm just gettin' a little taste."

And then he nips at your skin, mere centimeters away from your scent glands — and you moan.

Loudly.

Desperately.

Fuck him. You're sensitive this far into your pre-heat. Desire thrums through you like a plucked string and you lose your tenuous grasp on your self control. All you can think about is Katsuki, Katsuki, Katsuki as hormones flood your bloodstream and your subdued omega instincts rise to the surface, pheromone suppressor be damned. Your hands are in his hair before you've registered it, yanking him up to kiss you. It's a testament to Katsuki's iron will and his love for you that he lets you drag him into place, though he can't quite kiss you properly because he's smirking too hard. You bite at his lip in retaliation, but that only makes him groan low in his chest and the sound zips straight to your core.

You're so warm. Hot, even, flames of pleasure licking up your spine. You grab onto his shoulders and tremble as he shoves one hard, muscled thigh between your legs, flexing and pressing upwards until your weight rests firmly on top of him. "K-Katsuki…"

"What's the matter, baby?"

"This is so fucking unfair," you whine, tugging at him until he drags you forward by the hips. The friction is delicious and intense, even through your borrowed trousers and the thick fabric of his hero suit, and you can do nothing but hold on for your life as Katsuki guides you into riding his thigh. The easy way his biceps flex and his overwhelming strength turn your mind a little fuzzy. "Why'd you — why're you —"

"Couldn't stop thinkin' about you, brat," Katsuki grunts, pressing his face into the junction between your neck and shoulder. You bare your neck for him instinctively, presenting for him, but he tilts his face up to nip at your ear instead. "Wearin' my clothes and smellin' like me —"

"You're my mate," you gasp out, fisting his hair. "Don't I always smell a little like you?"

Katsuki laughs and stops dragging you along his thigh, shoulders shaking harder when you whimper in protest. You can feel the sharp wave of your impending orgasm recede with every rough chuckle exhaled against your skin. "You want me to keep goin'?"

"You started this, you asshole —"

"Beg for it, then."

Oh. Wait. "Fuck you," you hiss, shoving at him to let you down. He obeys easily, keeping his large hands on your waist to steady you. Desire is still humming hot in your veins, but the cold logic of your brain is working overtime to bring you back down. He's just trying to get you to lose, huh? "Did you come here just to rile me up? What's your problem?"

"Your pre-heat is gettin' to me," Katsuki says, nosing at your temple. Your already flushed body spikes with embarrassment at the tender gesture. "I didn't wanna leave you this mornin', and you were so fuckin' hot yesterday. You sure we can't just kickstart it early?"

"I thought you said you could resist me," you mumble, "what happened to that?"

"I am resistin' you."

You pull away slightly to shoot a pointed look at his body caging you against the door. You get an eyeful of his firm chest and those strong arms you love so much, which doesn't exactly help your predicament, but Katsuki just grins, sharp and beautiful even in the dim light of the closet.

"Baby, if it were up to me, I'd be balls deep in you right now," Katsuki says. Your toes curl in your shoes as you bite back a whine. "But we're tryin' to keep it a secret, yeah?"

This was a mistake. You know — you know your boyfriend has a competitive streak a mile wide, and there's no way he's going to let you walk away from calling him weak for you. Never mind that he's been behaving himself so far — letting you try on his clothes in front of him, sending dirty texts but not acting on any of them — now it seems like he's ready to fight back. Making dinner shirtless last night was definitely a small test for your own self control, but now he's breaking out the big guns by ambushing you at work.

"You're terrible," you breathe, and Katsuki just grins.

"Better get back to work, or your coworkers'll come lookin' for you."

As if your coworkers read his mind, behind you come the distinct sound of clattering footsteps going down the hall. You hear someone beyond the thin barrier of the door you're still pressed against. "Do you think Dynamight will give me his autograph?"

Katsuki meets your glare in the dim light and his grin shifts into a smirk, though his red eyes are unmistakably fond as he regards you. "I'll let you know when the coast is clear."

"You suck. You're evil. They should take away your Pro Hero license."

Your boyfriend laughs quietly and leans forward to brush his lips along your cheek. You tilt your face up into the smoky sweetness of him and manage to kiss the edge of his jaw as he pulls back. He hums with pleasure, but his smirk is still sharp as he eyes you. "Yeah, yeah. You're the one who poked the big bad alpha, you little shit."

Katsuki gets the two of you out of the supply closet and disappears before anyone in your company can corner him for an autograph. You spend a few minutes splashing water on your face in the bathroom, hurriedly trying to cool down as the lingering aftereffects of nearly getting marked race through your bloodstream. Once you deem your reflection (and raging hormones) passable, you head back upstairs and get back to work.

Or at least, you try to get back to work. The stacks of reports are less enticing to you now that you know Katsuki is really trying to get you to beg for him. It all makes sense to you now. The dirty texts and shirtless cooking were testing the waters — his way of seeing how affected you are by him, as if you haven't been mated for years at this point — and now he's ready to leverage your omega biology against you any way that he can. There's no rule saying you can't fuck during your pre-heat, but neither of you have tried thanks to the unspoken agreement that it would make this silly competition less fun.

But you really, really want to fuck him.

"Is everything alright?" Shimizu's voice snaps you out of your vivid fantasies and you blink at your reflection in the dark screen of your monitor. "Your computer's been asleep for ten minutes now. Is your mate okay?"

"O-oh, he's fine," you flush with embarrassment at getting caught slacking. "He just needed to give me something I forgot at home."

"Oh, was that all? That's so nice of him," Shimizu says. "Make sure you ask if he wants to come to the pre-heat drinking party for Kensuke-san."

"Is that really okay?" you ask. "It won't set anything off for Kensuke-san and his mate?"

"Nah. They're bound to be all over each other, anyway. We're all used to it — the drinking party is always more for everyone else to send them off with well wishes," Shimizu explains. "The company picks up the tab, too. It started out as a one-off, and we didn't think the company would keep doing it, but we're all in agreement that if the company is going to pay, then we're going to go out and play."

That… makes sense. Even in a company as supportive as this one, of course it doesn't erase the fact that you're all working under them. "Is that… what happened with the sex toys?"

"Yeah," Shimizu slides into the seat next to yours as she picks up on your interest. "At first, everyone thought it was super cringe and weird, right? Why would we want company branded toys? But it's free stuff, and even if we've got great benefits and paid time off and work isn't unbearable, it's still free stuff. Nobody passes up on the free stuff. We all need to work, so we might as well take advantage of everything the company is willing to give us!"

"And you said you don't really notice the branding…"

"I mean, honestly, you've gone through heats before, haven't you? Are you paying attention to anything besides your mate?"

You snort in agreement. "Back when Katsuki and I were figuring out our mating bond, he triggered my heat on accident and I climbed onto his lap in the middle of an izakaya. He had to help me through it in one of his friends' apartments because it was the closest he could get to a private space nearby."

The two of you ended up buying Denki a whole new mattress and bedding set to replace everything you irreparably messed up that week. His friends were gentle in their good natured ribbing, but you'd unfailingly blush any time you passed by that izakaya, and Katsuki couldn't eat there after patrols anymore without popping a boner.

"That sounds typical," Shimizu says, grinning. "I don't care about mates, myself, but I love hearing about the crazy shenanigans the bond ends up putting you through."

"Is that why there's a company-wide announcement anytime someone is about to enter their heat?" you ask. It's a little risky, bringing it up, but Shimizu is nice and clearly eager to chat on company time. "Most places just mark it as time off."

Shimizu twirls her hair around her finger as she hums in thought. "That started before I joined the company, but I think it's more like… public image? I heard it's the vice president who fully supports heats and likes buying all sorts of new toys for everyone to try out. And if we're celebrating it all so publicly, the president can't protest without looking bad!"

"That's… good," you say. You don't know what else to say to this — but thankfully Shimizu hops out of her seat and waves goodbye cheerily as a chattering group of coworkers enters the room. You try to refocus on your work, but not even a packet of chocolate dipped dried mangoes is enough to help you through more than a few reports.

Hearing about the company policies from a coworker's mouth and seeing everyone chatting excitedly about the end-of-the-week drinking party lifts your spirits. Like you told Katsuki originally, you know you'll get used to the idea of everyone knowing about your upcoming heat. It's just taken some time, and seeing how nobody treats Kensuke from Accounting any differently helps.

Now that you're feeling marginally more comfortable about the whole thing with your company, you feel like you can turn to the real task at hand: teasing your mate and winning this silly game of who can make the other beg for it first.

You skip your stop on the train ride home and hop off at the station closest to Ground Zero. Eijiro was delighted to conspire with you in sending Katsuki back to the agency a little early on his shift and the front desk receptionist lets you into the upper floors with a wide smile. If Katsuki can ambush you at work, it stands to reason that you should return the favor.

You slip into his private office and silently thank Mina for insisting on having strong frosted glass for the windows separating their offices from the cubicles of the sidekicks outside. Katsuki's office is plain overall — there's a large wooden desk with a cushy chair behind it, but otherwise it looks like a normal office space at first glance. As you walk around in it, however, you spot a few All Might collectibles, and there's an omamori hanging off of his desk lamp that you picked up for him at your first shrine visit of the year. He also has a polaroid photo of the two of you — his arm slung around your shoulders as you laughed, his free hand flipping off the camera — washi taped to the bottom of his monitor.

"The fuck're you doin' in here," Katsuki demands, striding into the room and shutting the door behind him with a slam. You jerk up in surprise. He got back a lot sooner than you expected.

"How'd you know I was here?" you ask curiously. Katsuki rolls his eyes as he begins dismantling his hero outfit, the loud clanking and clicking of his gauntlets filling the room as you walk over to help him.

"Smelled you from the station," he says. "As if I'd miss you tryin' to sneak in here."

You grin to yourself, somehow pleased that he sensed you even though he's ruined your chances of surprising him. "I just wanted to help you out," you say, trailing your hands up his arms. Katsuki raises one ash blonde eyebrow, clearly sensing your aim, but he lets you shove his hero mask up into his hair, exposing his forehead.

"Oh yeah?" His gauntlets hit the floor with a thunk and he rips off his gloves, tossing them aside as well. "Help me with what, brat?"

"Just, y'know," you bat your eyelashes up at him just to make him crack a sharp grin, "returning the favor from earlier today."

You kiss him first, a deep, melting kiss that makes your knees go a little weak even though you're the one initiating it. Katsuki's eyes narrow as you sink to your knees, but he doesn't stop you as you palm at his already hard erection through the fabric of his hero suit. "Oi, don't start something if you're not gonna finish it."

"I just want a little taste," you say, grinning as he glares down at you for throwing his words from earlier back at him. You hurry to unbutton and unzip his pants, dragging it down his hips and catching on his thick thighs as his cock springs free. He's leaking at the tip, pearly white and oozing, and he groans when you lick your lips at the sight.

"Fuckin'… don't stare at it."

You tsk. "So impatient." Katsuki threads his fingers through your hair gently as you lean forward to press your tongue against the slit, sliding his cock into your mouth with a wet suck. His hips jerk forward as he grunts, but his hand is endlessly gentle in your hair.

"Motherfu— oh, that's good," he pants, tipping his head back and exposing the strong lines of his throat as he groans. You hollow your cheeks and suck his cock down, settling into a familiar rhythm of bobbing on his dick, sliding your tongue along the underside and teasing at the slit as much as you can. You keep one hand on his thigh for balance and use the other to grab the rest of his length, squeezing in tandem with your bobbing. Wet, slick sounds fill the air as you choke and drool around his cock, and the way he throbs in the heat of your mouth sends a shiver down your spine.

"Sh-shit baby, yeah, just like t-that, fuck," Katsuki moans, his husky voice cracking a little on the words. He tips his head forward to watch the way his cock disappears down your throat, thumbing at your cheek and the tears gathering in the corners of your eyes. "You little — you little shit, you're gonna make me fuckin' come —"

You let go of his cock to cup at his balls, hanging heavy at the base of him, fondling them as you suck him deeper into your mouth. The strain on your throat makes you choke around him and he grunts, all of his muscles straining as he struggles not to blow his load. You choke on his cock a few more times, your omega senses singing in your veins with the thrill of pleasuring your mate, but as soon as you feel the telltale signs of his impending orgasm, you pull yourself off of him.

Katsuki nearly knocks you over. "You little — I'm gonna eat you alive you — fuck —"

You suckle at the tip of his cock, smiling up at him as he throbs concerningly in your loose grip. He huffs with the crash of his ruined orgasm and stares down at you in aggravated silence. "You want me to keep going?" you ask innocently, close enough that your lips get smeared with precum and saliva as you talk. Your voice is hoarse. "Just say the magic words, baby."

Your boyfriend seems to realize what you want a few seconds after you speak, as if it takes him a moment for his brain to comprehend full sentences. You peer up at him, blinking slowly, his cock mere centimeters from your lips as his face goes through approximately three different stages of grief.

"You're the worst," Katsuki grumbles, shoving you away and folding himself into a squat. You swipe at your face with the back of your hand, grimacing at the spit as you clean yourself up. He notices, because of course he does, and you watch with interest as Katsuki shoves himself upright to wobble to his desk. He tosses you a few tissues and pulls up his pants and boxers before crouching beside you to help you wipe your face. "The second your heat hits, I'm gonna fuck you so hard you won't be able to feel your legs, you brat."

You suppress a shiver at his words and scratch at your suppressant patch, hidden beneath the high collar of your borrowed shirt. "Don't threaten me with a good time."

Katsuki laughs, a short bark that makes you grin. "I hope you're ready, loser," he says, eyeing your lips. "C'mere and give me a kiss."

You wrinkle your nose. "I have dick breath."

"Like I give a shit, pipsqueak." Katsuki nips at your lip as you smile into the kiss, holding onto his shoulders for balance and sneakily smoothing your hands over the dense muscle there. "What're you smilin' about?"

"Just feeling you up."

"Hah?" He's so pretty when he blushes, pink rising high on his cheekbones and staining the tips of his ears red. You nuzzle into his strong neck, inhaling his comforting smoky sweet scent with a sigh of relief. You can feel your omega instincts settling as his scent envelops you properly. Katsuki seems to feel it, too, nudging into your hair and wrapping strong arms around you to keep you close.

After a moment, your legs start to cramp up from the awkward position, so the two of you clamber back up to your feet. Katsuki keeps a firm grip around your arm as you wiggle the feeling back into your toes, and you take advantage of his support to lean heavily against him. "Hey, Katsuki," you say, peering up at him sideways, "when did you steal my fruit themed washi tape?"

"I didn't steal it," he says. You arch an eyebrow. "I just borrowed it." You blink up at him. "Quit fuckin' starin'. It reminds me of you."

Oh. Your heart does a funny little flutter in your chest, which is a little ridiculous considering how long you've been together and the fact that he's literally your mate, but you let the feeling wash over you anyway and beam up at him. "I love you, too."

Katsuki's expression promptly freezes before he rolls his eyes, but his smile is soft. "Let's go already. It's gettin' late."

He holds your hand on the walk to the train station and acts as your wall against the crush of evening commuters. You're clingy — tugging on the sleeve of his hoodie, slipping your fingers through the belt loops of his pants — but Katsuki indulges you, clearly feeling the effects of your pre-heat just as much as you are.

Dinner is a comfortable, teasing affair. You bury your nose into the strong lines of his back as he cooks, pinching the skin of his stomach whenever he makes a snarky remark. He asks about your day and makes you laugh while recounting one of the old ladies on his patrol route who's taken to giving him pointers about how to make cuter bentos.

"You could learn a thing or two from her," you giggle, breathing in deeply.

"Watch it, brat, or I'm puttin' those rice penguins in jail."

The two of you refrain from riling each other up the rest of the night, sinking into the other aspects of your pre-heat instead. He watches with a wrinkled nose as you down a strawberry sando picked up from the konbini after dinner, but he lets you pat your night cream onto his skin and nuzzles your neck while you're tending to your own nightly skincare routine. Katsuki keeps a heavy arm around your shoulders as you tuck yourself into his side, throwing a leg over his thighs as he settles into bed with you.

This is your favorite part of the day — listening to the steady thump of his heart with his scent all around you, teasing him and feeling the low rumble of his voice as he snarks back, running the pads of your fingers over the scars crossing his chest idly and basking in the safety and security of Bakugou Katsuki being in your arms. It's always nice when you can fall asleep with him, when he isn't holed up in his office poring over mission reports or out on the streets taking down villains. You know he'll never say it out loud, but he always kisses you before leaving for patrol in the early mornings, always tucks the blankets back up to your chin to keep out the pre-dawn chill. He has spans of time where he's out more often than not working on taking down big missions, but he always comes back to you.

And with your heat approaching quickly, he starts pawning off his later patrols in order to pick you up from work. This is something like torture for you, personally, because he always smells so fucking good and looks so hot all rumpled and cozy in his post-work clothes. Katsuki makes a funny sound in the back of his throat when you greet him with a hug, slipping his hands a little lower than normal to squeeze your ass and smirking when you squeak and rip yourself away from him.

Luckily he's agreed to meet you a few blocks away from your company building, so you can escape before any of your coworkers notice the two of you. Katsuki gets handsy the closer you get to your heat, but he doesn't push it any further than blatant groping when you pass by him at home, so you retaliate by feeling him up whenever possible. You have no idea if blue balling him at work earlier in the week put the two of you in a stalemate, but you keep your guard up anyway and play by his unspoken rules to keep it to touching only.

It sucks, though.

Every touch makes you shiver; every graze of his lips makes you warm. You can feel the deep, intrinsic ache of your heat simmering just below the surface, the wellspring of desire thrumming through your veins. You're tense — Akane and Shimizu cajole you into fancy beverage breaks because they think you're stressing out too much about work — but your omega senses quiver like a roiling sea being brought to boil, only partially satiated by Katsuki's frequent touches and attention.

It all comes to a head at Kensuke's pre-heat party. Honestly, you should've begged off, but you didn't want to draw suspicion and everyone kept saying how they wanted to meet your mate. Kensuke himself brings along a Dynamight t-shirt in the hopes of a signature, which is just so cute you can't bring yourself to ditch the party.

"Congrats and good luck with your heat," you beam, toasting with Kensuke and his mate, a very pretty brunette who keeps her hand firmly around Kensuke's arm. She gives you a grin and a wink.

"Thanks," she says, "though we shouldn't need it. Ken-chan and I are old hats at this now."

"Your mate's scent is pretty strong, huh?" Kensuke says, tilting his nose up in spite of the grilled skewers being handed around. "It's almost like you're the one in pre-heat with how overpowering his scent is over yours."

"Haha," you swipe a skewer and pretend to be intensely interested in the slightly charred yakiniku. "You're probably just confusing my scent since you're in pre-heat, Kensuke-san!"

"Hm, I guess so," he says easily. His expression suddenly perks up, but you don't need to turn to see why. Every hair on your body raises as that comforting, overwhelming, smoky sweet scent washes over you. "Oh look! It's really Dynamight!"

Fuck.

You feel his red hot stare burrowing into you, and you know without a doubt that he's caught the way you've tensed up. You can feel your nipples perk against the silk fabric of your shirt, straining through your bra, and your panties get undeniably damp as his gaze drags along your form. You feel warm, warmer than you should be in this partially outdoor izakaya, and the air suddenly feels stifling, like you're swimming in smoke.

Katsuki's hand is heavy on your shoulder. You feel his touch like a brand, searing straight through your meager defenses, a spark that flickers as it drifts down to the well of your desire. You know — you know that once it catches, once it alights — you're both screwed.

"Hey, babe," you chirp, leaning into his arm as if your entire body isn't thrumming with want. "This is Kensuke-san and his mate! He brought one of your shirts — would you pretty please sign it?"

Katsuki's red eyes flash as he nods. To everyone else at the party, he probably looks normal. Just a regular Pro Hero alpha, strong and exuding power, all dense muscle and grace and skill, little sparks flying from his hands as he adds a tiny explosion smudge to the end of his signature on Kensuke's merch shirt. The guest of honor and his mate thank Katsuki profusely, and you take advantage of their distraction to slide away towards the bathrooms inside the izakaya proper.

This isn't good. You need to figure out how to get out without anyone noticing that Katsuki's been eye-fucking you since he got here, and then you need to bolt home so you can collapse into your heat in peace. One more touch from your mate and you'll probably drop right into it, but there's no way Katsuki will be able to keep his hands off you tonight.

You press yourself flat against the concrete wall in the hallway for the bathrooms, heart hammering in your chest. Forget worrying about your company's pre-heat shenanigans — you have a new fear unlocked: going into heat at a party full of coworkers.

"Whoa, hey!" Akane's a little louder than usual, a little wobblier on her feet. "The bathrooms are here, yeah?"

You manage to laugh, though there's a pitch of desperation in it that she thankfully doesn't notice. "Yup, they're right here! I just needed a breather. Hey, what happened to sticking to the nonalcoholic stuff?"

"Aw, yeah, I'm having those next," Akane flaps her hand at you breezily. "I'll sober up before I get home! Don't worry your pretty little head 'bout me! Hey, have I ever told you how nice your skin looks? Like, whoaaa."

This makes you giggle. "Do you need help in the bathroom?"

"Nope!" She shoots you a thumbs up. "See ya soon!"

You watch with amusement as she stumbles into the bathroom, but she doesn't hit anything on her way inside, so you lean back against the wall again and take a deep breath. You're aching — a deep, insistent pulse throbbing between your legs as a rich smoky caramel scent tickles at your instincts. Oh, shit.

You barely manage step away from the wall when suddenly Katsuki's there, looming big and broad and setting off every alarm bell ringing in your head. He eyes you with a flinty glare that's more black than red for a moment before he huffs and grabs your hand.

"Uh —"

"Zip it or I'll fuck you right here," Katsuki grits out. Oh, god. Your panties are sticking to your folds, tacky and damp, and you bite back a whimper as he pulls you along. His hand is warm around yours, and even though he's tugging you towards the back entrance of the izakaya, he never moves too quickly for you to keep up.

The two of you burst out into the back alleyway and Katsuki spares a quick glance around before he's on you.

He keeps a hand on the back of your head as he slams you into the dirty brick wall, shielding you even as he wrenches your waist towards him to grind his incriminatingly hard length against you. He kisses you like he wants to eat you alive, wiping out all coherent thought in your brain as your senses strain towards him. "You're gonna kill me," he grunts. You whimper into the kiss and clutch at his shoulders for dear life as he licks into your mouth, filthy and wet, swallowing down your pitched moans as he rocks his clothed cock against your center.

"What d'you want? Fingers or mouth?"

Your eyelashes flutter open in confusion. Your mind feels hazy, lost in the smoky sweetness of your mate, your focus entirely zeroed in on the throbbing of your pussy as Katsuki swears low beneath the clattering of the izakaya door opening.

"Wh— whoops!" the voice sounds familiar, but you can't quite place it. You blearily try to turn your head towards the sound, but Katsuki anchors you closer to him, covering you with his broad shoulders. "I was just — oh! You two should head home! I'll let everyone know you had an emergency!"

The roar of the crowds inside the izakaya rises in volume again before the door clangs shut. Katsuki picks you up before you can figure out what's happening, a strong hand tucking beneath your thighs as you cling to his neck. "Hold on tight."

"What're you— Katsuki, what the fuck!?" The loud, snapping, popping sound of explosions echo in the night before you're suddenly shooting straight into the sky, air rushing past you like you're flying. You tuck your face into his neck and swallow down an aborted scream, because, well — you are flying, propelled through the city skyline by Katsuki's explosive power.

Your boyfriend laughs. The shaking of his chest is familiar, at least, and you concentrate on that and the strong, sweet scent of his scent gland right beneath your lips. It would be downright disastrous for you to bite him now, while you're soaring through the city leaving fireworks in your wake, but you can't help kissing and sucking at the skin of his neck and shoulder as your body shivers with want.

There's a thud as he lands heavily and then a muttered curse before the tinkle of glass meeting concrete filters into your ears. You take a peek and catch sight of your apartment's balcony curtains fluttering in the wind, but the perspective is all wrong — why're you looking in as if you're —

"Katsuki," you pinch one of his strong shoulders, "did you just break into our apartment?"

"I'll get the glass replaced next week," Katsuki says, stepping inside and kicking off his boots. You're shivering, hot, feverish. He's warm, too — as usual — but sweat beads across his brow and you know you're close. "Bed, now. Or all our neighbors'll hear you screamin' my name."

Katsuki doesn't put you down. He carries you in a princess hold, the hand supporting your back smelling like smoke and soot, and he kicks the bedroom door shut with one socked foot. "Katsuki, Katsuki," he mocks, and suddenly you realize you've been chanting his name, fingers clenching tight to the hairs on the back of his head. "What d'you want, baby? Fingers or mouth?"

"I want you —"

His laugh is rough, a tortured sound spilling from his lips as he drops you on the bed and immediately kneels between your legs. Your breath catches in your throat as he slides your shoes off and tosses them aside. You lean up on your elbows to watch, wide eyed and breathless, as he trails his lips along the bare skin of your calf, hiking your skirt up with every beat of your heart. "I want you, too," he mutters, pupils blown wide with lust, his smirk pressing into your thigh. "But answer the question."

Your body thrums with anticipation. You can feel your heartbeat in your core like a siren song. "Katsuki, please —"

Katsuki snaps. A loud riiip tears through the air as he tosses aside the ruined fabric of your panties and then he's on you, his tongue licking dirty and insistent through your folds. You choke on a moan, hips canting into the air as pleasure sparks in your synapses, chasing the feeling as he eats you out like a man starved.

"Katsuki, Ka— nghh, Katsuki, please —"

Your boyfriend swirls his tongue around your clit and you nearly sob as you clench around nothing, your inner walls spasming with your near orgasm. Your thighs are tense, locked tight around his head. Katsuki doesn't seem to mind, lapping at your slick and groaning into your warmth, fingers digging into the fat of your thighs to hold you down.

Distantly you hear yourself whimpering and whining, but Katsuki continues to torture you, bringing you to the brink and pulling back as soon as you start to spasm. Somewhere in the depths of your mind you know there's a way to get him to — to fuck you properly —

You release the blanket you've been twisting in a death grip and scrabble for the pheromone patch on your neck. It takes a few tries as you pant helplessly, your fingers sliding off your sweaty skin, but as soon as your nail digs under the edge you rip it off and drown.

"Haah, fuck you —"

Katsuki rips himself away from your fluttering pussy with a groan and shoves his pants down awkwardly, the thick fabric catching on his thighs but low enough that his cock springs free. You whine at the sight, reaching for him, and he huffs out a laugh as he clambers over you. "You asked for it," he warns, but his voice cracks as the tip of his cock nudges against your wet folds.

"Oh, god, please please please. In," you grab at his arms and tilt your hips up, "Please get inside me."

"Fucking — hell —" Katsuki groans as he pushes inside, but his self control is at an all time low. He doesn't want to hurt you, but you're so wet and warm and your velvety walls are practically squeezing him in a vice grip.

He shoves every hard inch of his cock into you with a grunt, kissing you hard as you fall off the edge into bliss.

White. Sparks. It takes you a moment to come back to your senses, a moan punching through your chest as Katsuki pants into your neck. "Fuck."

"Yeah?" He rolls his hips and you whine at the sensation of being stuffed full of his cock, wiggling as best as you can beneath him. His skin is sweaty and sticky against yours, and you realize pulled his own shirt off. He's shoved your borrowed shirt up and off so that you're nearly naked, and out of the corner of your eye you spot your bra dangling from the doorknob where he tossed it away.

"Katsuki, c'mon, move," you plead. He digs his elbows into the mattress on either side of your head and rolls his hips again, dragging every rock solid inch of him against your insides. You clench around him, sparks skittering up your veins as he bullies his way back in, and then he's gone.

Katsuki fucks you into the mattress. You can barely string together a sentence, holding onto his arms as he shoves himself deep with every thrust. The overpowering scent of him fills the air along with the smell of sex and sweat and your choked off moans. You cling to him as best as you can, tilting your neck up as an offering as his thrusts get deeper and harder, crying out when he reaches to rest your legs on his shoulders, ankles dangling by his head as the changed angle lets his cock kiss a spot inside you that makes you sob.

"Oh, oh, Katsuki, fuck please I need you I want you please please please —"

"I — I got you," he grunts, "just fucking — hah you've gotta —"

"Oh I'm gonna cum, I'm — Katsuki I'm gonna cum!"

Katsuki growls as you leap off the edge again, pressing a strangely sweet kiss to your lips before leaning down further and licking along the side of your neck. You barely have a moment to register what he's doing before his body locks up and he bites you, marking you as his cock spurts and kicks inside you.

"Oh, fuck —"

The heady rush of pheromones sends you spinning dizzily higher, a pleasure so intense lighting up your nerves you nearly black out. Distantly you can still feel Katsuki cumming, thick ropes of white painting your insides as he rocks his hips in tiny, incessant motions against you. He lets go of your neck with a grunt. And then you feel it.

"Ah. Ah." The swell of his knot is thick and alarming, but you force yourself not to tense as he locks up with you. The overwhelming feeling sends your nerves buzzing and you tilt your head to kiss him, languid and sweet.

"How's it?" he asks, breaking the kiss just to press his sweaty forehead against yours. You meet his deep red eyes and brush a kiss along the pink swell of his cheekbones. "I didn't hurt you?"

"I'm fine," you sigh. Your heart is still thumping like a drum in your chest, but Katsuki is warm and solid and unyielding around and inside you. You're so full. You nuzzle into the neck of your mate. "You're lucky I'm so damn bendy."

The first knot is always the most lucid, the relief of sliding into heat lending clarity to both of your senses before dissolving into a messy, incoherent sex fest. By the end of the cycle you'll have lost track of how many times and how many ways Katsuki takes you — though you know he's fond of the shower and he used to like propping you up against the balcony doors…

"Did you really break the balcony door?" you ask suddenly, disrupting Katsuki's careful kiss to your jaw. Your boyfriend snorts, slowly sliding your legs off his shoulders and wincing lightly as his knot jostles inside you.

"If I had to go through the apartment I would've taken you in the goddamn elevator."

"Oh." You wince as his knot slips slightly. Another thought leaps unbidden to the front of your mind. "Who was that at the izakaya?"

Katsuki shrugs. "Some chick. The one you were helpin' to the bathroom."

Your brain still feels fuzzy with endorphins and the afterglow of white hot pleasure, so it takes you a moment longer to figure out who he's talking about. You groan. "Oh, no… not Akane…"

"She said she'd take care of it," Katsuki assures you, nosing along your neck. "And 'sides, that's not what you should be worried 'bout."

You raise an eyebrow. "Oh? And what's that?"

The grin Katsuki shoots you is shit-eating and terribly, annoyingly endearing.

"You begged for it first."

A few days later, while Katsuki heats up some premade food so neither of you die of malnutrition, you finally remember to turn on your phone. It pings! with notifications, but one flagged as "important" catches your eye.

Shimizu: Hey friend, hope your heat's going well! I've sent along your company care package to be delivered to your apartment, and once you get back we'll have a post heat drinking party for you! I also sent out your pre-heat company-wide congratulations email a few days ago, but don't worry, I'll send it out earlier next time so we can celebrate you properly!

Katsuki pokes his head into the bedroom at your loud groan, two plates piled high with food balancing on his strong forearms.

"What's the matter, pipsqueak?"

"Did we get a delivery?" you ask. Katsuki sets the plates down on the bed beside you and disappears for a moment, but then you hear a loud bark of laughter and he reappears with a large box. "Oh, no. Don't tell me…"

Katsuki reaches in and whips out a dildo with your company's name stamped along the base. "They found out?"

"I'm gonna die," you say. "I can never face any of them ever again."

"So dramatic," Katsuki snorts, setting the box down. He braces his hands on either side of your thighs as he leans down to kiss you. "Wanna see which one makes you beg hardest?"

"We are not using those toys, Katsuki!"

"We'll see how you feel when I've got you beggin' for me again."

[sukunas-wife]

“Lord Sukuna!” A man screamed before immediately bowing before him, Sukuna walking in his true form didn’t bother to look down. You walked behind him looking straight ahead holding Yuji’s hand. Yuji was smiling bright holding a sparkler that hadn’t been lit, you didn’t miss the smile and women who looked up at you with kind eyes and the kids who peaked at Yuji giggling as he waved his chubby hand sparkler shaking around and they waved back.

Treated like Royalty out of fear of The King of Curses, Uraume continued walking behind you with your Lady in waiting. Stopping when Sukuna had finally situated himself on the Platform reserved. It over looked the area, the festival to commemorate the ending of the year. You slowly sat beside Sukuna when he motioned you over with a look. Yuji sat to your left quickly changing to squish himself between you and his dad. Both you and Sukuna shifted over to make room for him as he started rambling about all the lanterns and games, asking if he could go. You looked at Sukuna, he seemed unsure before Uraume suggested it might not be a bad Idea, “Lord Sukuna, Surly no one would want to cause a massacre on the day of the coming new years.”

Sukuna looked at you and you looked at your son, Yuji was trained on his dads face with a pout and those big pleading eyes, Sukuna turned away with a wave of dismissal. “I’ll be here, come back when you’ve had your fun.” Yuji’s quick smile turned into a pout “daddy’s not coming?”

Sukuna felt the tug on his robes, he refused to look knowing he’d gave if he saw his soon looking up at him with teary eyes, but also couldn’t stand to look like a spineless fool for playing those pointless games.

“Cmon baby,” you picked up Yuji kissing his round cheek, “Daddy’s busy,” you stood carrying him with you, “He’ll come later when HE HAS TIME.” You emphasized the words looked past Yuji at Sukuna, nodding your head to Yuji who hugged your neck resting his head on your shoulder pouting. You mouthed to Sukuna “HE WANTS TO BE WITH YOU” Sukuna looked away, you rolled your eyes and nodded at Uraume, their faint smile hinted they understood as they gave a slight nod, your two ladies in waiting quickly followed you when you started your walk with Yuji. Making it to the stalls looking down at Yuji he had a pout as he looked straight ahead, squeezing his hand he looked up at you and you smiled, “you said you wanted to try some of the foods let’s get you some okay?” His eyes shining when he looked up at you with a smile, “Yeah!”

Asking your ladies in waiting to get a place ready you went around with Yuji ordering a few things from different stalls. Yuji sat down beside you swinging his feet, peeking on the table at all the snacks the Ladies in waiting were laying out. “It looks funny.” Was all Yuji said as he picked up fried squid on a stick, brushing his hair back you kissed his forehead, “It does look funny but you should try it.”

Yuji quickly bit into the squid and seeing his face you stuck your hand in front of him just as he spit out the squid, “..ɴᴏ…” you tried not to laugh at Yuji while you let him sip your tea. Your lady in waiting wiping your hand clean as you helping Yuji go through Daifuku, Taoyaki, Mochi, Taiyaki, Dorayaki, dango and Manjū.

“Aw my poor baby.” You cood hugging him while he sat in your lap, he laid back against you whining tummy round with the sweets he was eating. Softly laughing at how his head fell to the side looking at the dango he weakly lifted, the Sakura flavor half gone, the plain white one had a small nibble, the green one had teeth marks in it where he bit into it but didn’t like it. “‘m full mommy.” You squeezed him and he huffed wiggling around, “wanna play a game.” You let him slide down your lap as you started to get up. The ladies in waiting packing up the untouched food.

You followed Yuji adoring the way he waddled, he wouldn’t be your little boy forever, so you’d have to cherish it while you could.

Watching Yuji play goldfish scooping was the highlight of your night. He squatted there persisting he could win because he wanted to win a goldfish. After his 5th turn he looked up at you with teary eyes and a wobbly lip, you knelt hugging him and he sniffled, “wan a golfish for daddy..” you heart braking you nodded, “Let me try okay?” He looked up at you and nodded. You did your best and managed to meet this crooked booths rules and Yuji was able to pick a good fish to take home. He chose a black gold fish because “is the only one!”

Letting him walk around carrying the bag proudly you tried a few more games until it came to an archery target booth. Where he persisted he could make it, once again it took five tries. And he hadn’t made a single target. It was upsetting to see Yuji fail so many times, so you stood Yuji on the booth’s table top and stood him in front of you, you had never tried one of these but it was worth trying if your little boy wouldn’t be upset. You tried to guide his hands but the “kids” bow was entirely to tough for a child. Still you let him pull back the bow and tried to help him aim before you release you watched as the target was struck but an all to familiar flame. “Daddy!!” Yuji cheered turning around in your arms, looking for his dad. There stood Sukuna amongst the separated crowd, the booth vendor seemed frightened at the sight of your husband when he took the bow from Yuji, just like you low life useless humans, trying to justify yourselves and present yourself self righteous when your able to look a woman or child in the eye and lie to them for your own profit. If this hand been any other woman or child I wouldn’t have even looked in your direction,” he stretched the bow as it caught flames from his flame arrow, “But treating my wife and my son like low life scum is something else.” His snarl and low voice had the vendor shivering, “L-lord Sukuna! Forgive me if i had known-“ the man was shot dead and you didn’t let Yuji turn to look, “Now everyone knows.” Sukuna declared looked around, the entire crowd in agreement and fear in silence.

You let Yuji free when he jumped into his dad’s chest, Sukuna catching him with one arm moving him onto his broad shoulders, “Dad! I won you gold fish!” Sukuna got closer to the stand ripping down the tiger Plushie he knew Yuji wanted. He may not be openly affectionate always but he did understand and know how his son thought. Yuji hugging his dad’s neck when he took the plushie, and you showed Sukuna the black Gold Fish, Sukuna looked amused carrying the gold fish on the same side Yuji sat. He motioned you to his side with his free hand, you followed quietly listening to your son and husband idly chat about what Yuji had down the past 2 hours.

Finally getting back to the platform where Sukuna sat, you noticed a bit of blood shed not far, you blinked and looked at Sukuna who eyed you and shook his head no. Taking the sign you held silence and sat beside him, before laying Yuji across your lap, he whined and crawled over to Sukuna, sitting himself on his dads leg leaning his back against his dads propped leg looking to the sky, he was ready to see the lights he heard you talk about.

Talking quietly with Sukuna you watched as he rested his large hand on Yuji’s round tummy before resting a hand your side pulling you closer closing the space. You smiled resting your head on his shoulder looking up at him, he turned to look down at you. The fire works started and Yuji’s oo’ed and aah’ed talking about the colors and how loud they were. You smiled kissing his forehead. Before turning to Sukuna, “Another Year with my husband and our Son.”

He had a small smile, pulling you closer so he could kiss you, his hand moved down to your waist. Just as he kissed you he pulled away with a hearty laugh, “a new year with my wife and OUR children.” You looked confused before you understood “RYOMEN!” In disbelief you looked at your own stomach, “how?!”

He leaned back on one arm, “Oh I’m sure you don’t need to be reminded how or when,” the smug look on his face caused your face to heat up. You looked down at Yuji as if he were gonna save you from his dad, only for him to be sleeping and snoring softly laid out in his dad’s lap.

You smiled shaking your head while Sukuna laughed to himself holding you firm against him kissing the top of your head, “Happy New Years.” You mumbled before kissing his cheek.

———-

It’s a bit rushed but i wanted something for new years 🥹 Happy New Years everyone!

Tag List!

@sad-darksoul @cyder-puff @domainofmarie @satorisgirl