#my sweet mochi yes

[pieflavoredartz]

IDK how to say this but your art style is like a marshmallow to me for some reason /pos

sharktail -mochi marshmallow artstyle… ive made it 🍄🍄🍄

(WAHH THANK U ANONIE THATS TOO SWEET (つ≧▽≦)つ )

[obsesssedblerd]

“Oh, Nanaminnnn!” 

At the familiar, cheery voice, Kento looks up to see no one other than Satoru Gojo, leaning against the doorframe of his office with his usual grin. “Saw with my Six Eyes that you came to fill out those reports here instead of doing it from home. Been so long since you showed your face here and—” He cuts himself off with an excited gasp, then walks closer as his smile grows wider. “You brought my little mochi!”

In Kento’s left arm, his daughter—who had woken up from her nap about ten minutes ago—coos excitedly when Satoru enters her vision, reaching her hands towards him. “Well, hello there, sweetheart! I was wondering when I’d see you again!” He slides his hands under her plush arms, then picks her up, skillfully—and safely, Kento notes—holding her in his arms. Tiny hands brush against Satoru’s blindfold, and he lifts it so his niece can see his blue eyes. They immediately soften when the baby girl laughs when he gently tickles her tummy. 

It’s so cute that Kento can’t stop the corner of his mouth from lifting. 

“Wait—Did I hear that right?! Nanamin’s here?!” 

“Itadori, wait for us!” 

“Kugisaki, you dropped your bag—Oh, come on, guys, slow down!” 

Rapid footsteps approach, then the three first years appear at the door, gasping in unison. 

“Oh, my gosh!” Yuuji, the pink-haired teenager shouts as he points at the baby in Satoru’s arms. “Nanamin, when did you have a baby?!” 

Nobara’s question comes a split-second after Yuuji’s is finished. “Is that why [Y/L/N]-sensei quit a while ago?!” 

Megumi walks to stand beside Satoru to analyze the little bundle in his teacher’s arms. “She’s… adorable.” He mumbles, gently smiling when she wraps her hand around his finger. “Very adorable. She has [Y/L/N]-sensei’s laugh.”

“Isn’t she just so precious?” Satoru asks, proudly showing her off to the first years. “So sweet and friendly, just like her Uncle Gojo.” 

“Hopefully she won’t be as reckless as you,” Kento says as he holds his hands out, and Satoru returns his daughter to him. “[Y/N] and I already believe that she’ll be the exact opposite of me.” 

Yuuji sits beside Kento to get a closer look at her. “She’s so cute. How old is she, Nanamin?” 

“Four months as of yesterday.” 

Nobara crosses her arms and pouts. “How come only he knew?” She asks, gesturing to Satoru. 

“Well, when I had to go away on a long mission, she was only a month old,” Kento explains. “He kept an eye on her and [Y/N] for me; made sure that they were both safe. I’m very grateful. We had plans to tell you about our daughter soon.” 

“Where is she now?” Megumi asks. 

“At home. I wanted her to have the morning and most of the afternoon to herself. I’ll be heading back shortly.” 

Satoru and the students share similar looks with each other, and Kento knows what they want to ask. He pulls out his phone and dials your number. “Hi, baby,” you greet when the line connects, “how’s our girl?” 

“Hi, love. She’s amazing, as always,” he says as he looks down, playfully poking the little one’s nose. “I’m with Gojo and our students. They want to know if it’s alright to come and see you.” 

“We’ll cook dinner if you’re too tired!” Nobara chimes in hopefully.

“Actually, better yet, I can just order something for everyone,” Satoru suggests. 

“And we’ll clean up,” Yuuji and Megumi say at the same time. 

You laugh, then answer Kento, “That’s more than alright. Bring them here.” 

“Thought you’d say that. See you in a bit.” 

“Yes!” Yuuji cheers. “Alright, I’m gonna ride with Nanamin so I can sit next to the baby!” 

Nobara glares at him. “Not if I get to the car first!!” 

When they sprint out the door, Megumi groans before rushing after them. “Didn’t I just tell you guys to slow down? We’re going to the same place!” 

Satoru laughs, then waits for Kento to finish up so they can walk out together. 

—

there was an ask in my inbox requesting a cute drabble for dad! nanami ft. gojo (as a trusted friend of his) and the first years, but it disappeared. hope u like it, anon <3 

[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.

[sanatomis]

cw. none except satoru being disgustingly cute (part 2)

satoru isn’t used to people calling him anything other than his surname. gojo-san to most, gojo-sensei to others. it’s simple, and gets the job done.

only a handful of people stick to calling him by his given name. to them, he’s satoru. it’s easy, and rolls of the tongue, and he greatly prefers it over the sound of his surname. it makes him feel like an actual person.

satoru never entertained the possibility of being called anything else other than those two names. he didn’t think it would ever happen.

for once, he was glad to be proven wrong.

“tough day, pretty?” you ask gently, and he sighs with a nod as he throws himself into your opened arms. his body moulds easily into yours, and he lets out a heavy groan as he settles onto the couch with you. the groan is loud, and over-exaggerated.

it’s so satoru.

you have to stifle a giggle.

“everything went horribly wrong,” he grumbles, his voice muffled against the fabric of your shirt. “the higher ups were up my ass again, my students laughed at me again, and when i finally made it to that bakery you liked they were out of your favourite pastries so i couldn’t get them for you—again!”

“oh, my poor baby,” you coo, and gently push his bangs out of his face. he nods in agreement, faking an immense amount of sympathy for himself. “‘s okay, at least you tried, hm? i think that’s very sweet.”

satoru hums, as if he’s deeply thinking about your words. “’m still your baby?” he mumbles, deciding that’s the most important thing right now. his eyes briefly flutter shut, consumed by utter bliss as you play with the hairs on his undercut.

“mhm, still my baby.”

“yeah? what else am i?”

this time you do giggle. he does this sometimes. you aren’t exactly sure why—but on tough days, satoru likes to crawl into your arms and listen to you call him every cheesy nickname under the sun. it’s easily providable and makes him so very happy, so you always indulge him.

“my honey bun.”

“and?”

“my boo bear.”

“mhm.”

“my sweetheart.”

“yes?”

you laugh softly. “my mochi,” you coo, and pinch his cheek. it’s a little squished because he’s laying on your chest, but it emphasises your point.

he grins under your touch. it’s adorable.

“keep them coming, please?” he asks, and you do. you always do, unable to refuse him. especially when he asks so sweetly.

“my sugar cookie.”

“my muffin.”

“my baby cakes.”

“my angel.”

“my love.”

“my husband.”

“h—huh?” satoru stammers, looking up from your chest. he lays his chin on your sternum, baby blue eyes blinking up at you. they’re filled with awe, surprise, and utter glee. “that’s, i’m not. . .”

“just testing the title, baby,” you tell him, and continue playing with his hair. he bathes in your touch and you smile softly as he grabs and kisses the palm of your hand. “what do you think, hm?”

“i think you should call me it again.”

“oh?”

“mhm,” he mumbles.

“my dearest husband.”

“again.”

“my handsome husband.”

“again.”

“my sweet husband.”

“again, please?”

you hum, impressed. “my well-mannered husband.”

satoru chuckles, and lays back down on your chest. his white hair tickles against your skin, and he sighs in content.

“i think i want to be your husband for real.”

“yeah?”

“yeah,” he mumbles and nuzzles further into your hold. “y’ve got the same ring size still, right?”

“i sure do,” you say, a content smile on your lips as you watch him slowly doze off to sleep.

“hm, good to know.”

for satoru, those nicknames make him feel as if he’s something even greater than a person—it makes him feel yours.

he’s not just gojo, the strongest. he’s not just satoru, the at-times somewhat immature adult with the sweet tooth of a child.

he’s yours. your baby. your honey bun. your boo bear. your mochi. your boyfriend. your love. and for satoru, there’s no greater thing in the world than that.

[riediaries]

your daughter's favorite routine in the morning is definitely waking her daddy with kisses all over his face.

"g'morning mommy.. pee.." your sleepy daughter makes her way to yours. you're in the bathroom busy preparing yourself for the day.

"good morning baby." you greet her back. "okay, sweetheart." you stop putting a lipstick and you help her to the toilet.

after that, you continue your routine but she stays on your side, watching you put on your lipstick.

"you're not going to wake up daddy, baby?" you ask her and she stares at you.

"mommy." she points her lips and the thing you're holding, the lipstick.

"yes.. lipstick?" you crouch down to her level. "why? is there something wrong with mommy's lipstick?"

she nods and points at her tiny plump lips again. "me too!"

you laugh, realizing what she meant but another idea comes to your pretty mind. you lift her up and gently put her beside the sink.

you start to rummage the insides of your pouch, finding a pink lipstick to match her pale skin she got from her father.

you hum happily as you opened the lipstick and twist it, revealing a pretty pinkish shade.

"what about you wake up daddy with this?" you suggest to her as you carefully apply the shade on her lips.

she gasps and agrees immediately. "yeah!"

you shush her and she giggles even more.

after you finish your routine in the bathroom, you put your daughter on your hip, carrying her to the bedroom, where your husband is sleeping.

putting her on the side of the bed, you nod and boom!

"daddy! good morning! wakey-wakey!" she kisses him, marking his pale skin on his cheek, nose, temple, forehead and chin pinkish but still unknown to the sleepy male. this made satoru wake up, he opens an eye to see his two sunshines.

you laugh at her excitement as she jumps on the bed and then, continuing her routine.

"good morning, babe." you leans down to give his pinkish lip a red mark from your lipstick.

he smiles and slowly got up then attacks his daughter by tickling her. "good morning, my sweet little mochi."

"kyaah! mommy! help!" your daughter tries to get off on his father's silly hands. you decided to join her father on tickling her and after a good few seconds, your daughter is breathless all from the giggles and laughs she suffered.

"daddy, your face is ridiculous right now." she suddenly mutters, seeing the cute little kiss marks on his face.

"what?" he raises an eyebrow and turns to look at you. panic begins to paint his face. "i haven't lost my beautiful blue eyes yet, right?! were my eyebrows shaved?!"

you burst out of laughing at his ridiculous assumes. and when you laughed, suspicious surfaces his face.

he hurriedly went to the bathroom to check as you and your partner-in-crime did nothing but to laugh at his state.

yes. he's ridiculous. ridiculously cute with those marks. maybe you should encourage your daughter to do it every morning starting from now on.

satoru sees his 'ridiculous' face his precious baby just called him and he chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief.

in the corner of his eye, he spots the pouch that holds your make-ups. he grins at the thought.

it's payback time.

satoru grabs a bright red lipstick on your pouch and applied it on his lips messily. he doesn't care if it's messy or not. he just wants to do the same for the both of you.

he opens the door to the bedroom door and goes to the bed when the both of his girls are still in there.

he smiles cheekily as he traps your face. you widened your eyes in horror.

you just did your make-up!

"w-wai–" he cuts you off by kissing your lips and then proceeded to do his mission.

"satoru–"

everytime you open your mouth, he will immediately shuts you up, leaving your lips red kiss marks from him.

of course, the little girly tries to run away but he prevents it by trapping her lovingly, giving the same treatment to her.

and now, you're currently redoing your make up in the bathroom after scolding him, the door securely locked. and you end up being late for work.

[rowaelinsdaughter]

babyfever

smut below the cut, minors don't interact

we all know how babyfever!gojo would act but... what about babyfever!gojo and babyfever!reader??

it all started with a dream she had. she dreamed with a baby girl, blue eyes like the sky, white hair like snow, a little copy of satoru in her arms, sleeping peacefully with no care of the world. that was the last thing she needed.

"i want a baby"

that quote transformed gojo. of course he had thought of having a baby with her, a little mochi of theirs, his girl swollen with his baby, tits big and round full of milk... it was truly a sight satoru had dreamed of often.

from that day on, nobody could be near them.

looks full of lust between them during meetings, always sitting together and satoru's hands on her, touching her, feeling her. if she was teaching her students, he would make an excuse; "sweetheart, yaga needs you" yaga wasn't the one that needed her but satoru.

and there hasn't been a single corner of the house where satoru hasn't fucked her. the garden, the kitchen, living room, bedroom, guest bedroom, toilet, everywhere was filled with memories of him fucking her restless. he wasn't going to stop until she was pregnant.

his favorite position?? missionary.

he loves to feel her. her hands on his hair, neck, chest, nails digging and marking him like a possession, but fuck, he was hers and she was his.

"you like it babe? you like to feel my cock in your sweet pussy?" she moaned as an answer. he was pounding into her so delicious and so good, she couldn't think straight.

"f-fuck gojo-o, so good so good"

he stopped his hips and she whimpered, her hips moved involuntary. she was going to snap at him when he placed her legs on his shoulders, and started to pound on her again.

he was out of control. with her legs on his shoulders, he kissed her, her feet now near her head. lips and teeth and tongues meet on a sinful song.

" i'm gonna make you a mommy, gonna make this tits full of milk and im gonna ruin this pussy with my cum until you're pregnant "

"yes please, please, please, make me a mommy, 'toru"

“say my name babe”

“toru, toru, toru- wanna cum please, wanna cum”

his hand played with her clit. she rolled her eyes back, her hands gripped the sheets underneath and with a last thrust of satorus hips, they both came at the same time.

little did they know that she was already pregnant.

all rights reserved to ©rowaelinsdaughter no tranlations allowed. no copy theme. don not copy my work.

[mochinomnoms]

*blinks at u* hey so my brain is eating itself and this won't let me sleep so

*pulls out a megaphone* NSFW ALERT

Okay yes octotrio foursome i know for a fact that the tweels love making their sweet partners forget about their insecurities for a moment yuu and zuzu are mostly receiving WE KNOW THOSE TWO EELS ARE CUNTS (affectionately) and like overstimulating, sweet aftercare is clearly followed but now? They know you and Azul are very spent but oh how they love to bring out such debilitating states out of you two, voices breaking and thighs trembling wanting to stop and close "Too much!" they coo and tease in response "You can take more right?" it is their form of making you two take a break! Making your bones feel like jelly and mushing your brains up, forget about anything now darling! Feels too good to stop right?

Both of those greedy bastards get you and Azul into missionary, the dominant hands of each twin on your hips to hold them in place while the other can bring even more attention to your sensitive zones, so so messy! The amount of lube mixed with saliva and semen that coated yours and Azul's inner thighs from the previous positions, the three of your partners do love to pick apart and see what makes each scenerie unique so sounds, states everything is so important to them! The sloppy sounds that Azul causes when he thrusts into you and how with this position you two can clearly see what's going on, bodies trailed with hickys and bite marks you get masturbated by Floyd while Jade fingers Azul all while still going! Seeing how Jade looks down at you, you can see how he is whispering on Azul's ear giving light kisses every now and then along his neck. They know how much these little things can do for you two, they know and want to make the most of it! After some time of weakly thrusting the twins make Azul fill you up they eat up every breathless noises being made (they also made sure you and Azul held eye contact when bringing you two to the edge don't worry!)

Finally the twins seem satisfied with the state you two are in.. Maybe they can make it even better, Azul was catching his breath and then Floyd decided to steadily masturbate Azul's still twitching dick —"C'mon Azul we wanna see you paint shirmpy's body too!" —"Fufu~ you still have energy left Floyd?" —"Always have energy to make our little mates cum~" Azul threw his head back as he came again this time spilling on your abdomen

What a mess! Don't worry though you and Azul can go into the bath while the twins change the sheets, make small snacks prepare the wedding ceremony pull out fresh pijamas everything is ready for cuddling maybe taking a nap, watching something.. Or even just talking if you even can with your sore throat

They love, love you two this is just one of the many moments that make your relationship so special

AaaaaAAaAAaH this is the very first time I ever write something let alone smut! English isn't my mother tongue and I have forgotten how puntuaction commas or dots went! But this is very feeling charged hope that you can still get it! I think that now I can go curl up on my blankets and get some heavy sleep :3 nighty night Mochi!!

-Vaquita 🐄 (hope this isn't thrown in the dust.. I spent time on it and it could be forgotten forever ;( dramatically sobbing rn)

(you need to sleep love its good for the soul)

Omg no this is really good! I love when polyoctotrio includes the twins loving on Azul too, it feeds my soul! I think they really do get a kick out of overstimulating their partners, especially for someone as high-strung as Azul.

It gets frustrating when he gets too focused on work and starts ignoring his lovers. More so when their little Shrimp is running around busy with Grim and Crowley's tasks. The twins are feeling neglected by BOTH of their partners, what a sin!

The remedy? They con you two into coming into the bedroom to "relax" and unfortunately for you and Azul, relax means literally fucking the brains out of your head until you're too dumb to remember what you were supposed to do the next day.

The nice thing is, at the end, Azul is so sweet when he's like this! All the stress, and thoughts in general, are out of his mind and only filled with thoughts of his partners! He's so cuddly to the point that it's almost funny, with how Floyd has to pry his arms off you to properly wash you in the bath. It's awfully cute, so are you, though! You're clutching at Azul all the same, cherishing his affection as Jade attempts to dress you in your pajamas. Eventually the two get you both in bed again, curled into each other and practically knocking out the moment your heads hit the pillows.

A lovely polycule to be sure!

[shankss-magnificent-ass]

How OP men would react after finding out you have an aggressive stalker || Katakuri and Rob Lucci

Katakuri watched you dive into a bush as his chief of staff, Rock, entered the courtyard. He stared at you and asked, "What are you doing?" Only for you to shush him and swat at him to leave you alone.

"Ah, there you are, Katakuri. I just dropped off the list of candidates for new crew members in your office." Rock declared, approaching his superior. "I say..." He added, sniffing the air with his mousy nose, "Do I smell tuberose? Was your assistant just here?"

Katakuri eyed the bush you were hiding in to see you giving him a pleading look. The Sweet Commander sighed, "Yes, they were, but they had to deliver some paperwork to Mama for me. So they won't be back until tomorrow." The large man didn't like lying, but if it was for you, he'd do it, even though he didn't understand why you were hiding from Rock.

Rock's expression turned dour at the news, and he replied, "I see, well then I must take my leave of you, sir, I have a mountain of paperwork to attend to." The Minister of Flour's Chief of Staff gave him a quick bow, and he hurried out of the garden. Once he was out of sight, Ktakuri said, "Why are you hiding from Rock?"

You stuck your head out of the bush and grumbled, "Because anytime he's near me, he tries to smell me. It's so creepy."

"Smells you? Katakuri echoed in confusion, "Does he know he makes you uncomfortable?"

"Do you think I haven't told him to stay away from me?" You snapped as you stumbled out of the bush, "he doesn't listen and thinks I'm just playing hard to get. I've even punched him, but he just enjoyed it."

Katakuri crouched down, pulled leaves out of your hair, and hummed, "I'll look into it."

It took him two days, and quite a lot of resources, but Katakuri had a full background on Rock. The sweet commander could only read a few pages before he had to put down the report. Rock was a despicable man, and Katakuri did not want this vile man around him, let alone allow him a seat of authority. He leaned back in his office chair and sighed, he now needed to find a replacement for Rock, yet another task on his ever-growing list of things to do.

The pensive atmosphere in the Minister of Flour's office was shredded by the racket of someone scuffling up the side of the building. Katakuri got up and looked out the window to see Rock clinging to the gutter pipe by what, he could only assume, was your bedroom window and peaking in. When Rock had one foot on the pipe and one foot securely on your window sill, Katakuri watched in horror as Rock reached one hand into his trousers while peeping into the room. The sweet commander wasted no time using his mochi powers to yank the pervert backward. Rock lost balance and fell three stories to the gravel floor of the courtyard.

Rob had just returned home from a mission, the sun was shining, and a crisp sea breeze made his hair and cloak flutter around him. He took a deep breath before he spotted you in the crowd. Rob huffed in amusement, you were always so insistent about greeting him the moment he stepped off the boat. Not that he minded, it just meant he could initiate his coming home ritual sooner. Rob scooped you into a tight embrace, taking a deep lungful of your scent, pleasantly noting that he didn't smell anyone else on you. As soon as he touched you, Rob felt eyes on him, some were just the people around the two of you, but one set in particular had his hackles up. These eyes felt like they were piercing him with malicious intent.

"Welcome home," you sighed into his shoulder, eagerly hugging him back.

"Are you hungry?" He asked, looking around for the owner of such a piercing stare. You looked up at him, resting your chin on his chest, and replied, "uh huh, where do you want to eat?"

"I was thinking Star Dancer," Lucci replied as he pulled away from you, "They have garden seating, and it's such a nice day, it'd be a waste to spend it inside."

You grinned at him and laughed, "You're only picking Star Dancer because they are okay with Hattori sitting with us out there."

Rob blushed and huffed, "That's not true, I know you love their food too. Plus, it's the only restaurant nice enough to take a stunning beauty, such as yourself." He kissed your knuckles and grinned at you. "So, can I take you out on a date to Star Dancer?"

You giggled, "Of course," and you allowed him to take your hand, and lead you to the restaurant. Rob tried to shake off the feeling of being watched, but it wasn't until you arrived at Star Dancer that the feeling dissipated.

When you and Rob finally got home, it was around midnight. The moment he stepped inside, Rob knew something was wrong. He could smell a stranger who had been inside. Lucci blocked you from entering and asked, "Has anyone been to the house recently? A workman, or something?" When you shook your head, he gritted his teeth and growled, "Go to the neighbor's house and ask them to call the police, I think there's been a break-in, I'm going to check it out in the meantime." He stood at the door of your home and waited until you and Hattori entered the neighbor's residence, before going in.

All the lights were off inside, but that wasn't a problem for Rob, thanks to his Zoan fruit, he could see quite well with just the pale blue moonlight flooding in from the windows. In agent mode, Rob took in his surroundings, the house was quiet and everything was still except a few of the sheer curtains fluttering in the breeze from the open window. Rob inspected said window, the lock was broken from the outside with a sharpened flathead screwdriver, that was discarded on the floor nearby. Rob sniffed the curtain, and a pungent smell filled his nose, he followed the scent trail to your bedroom, which had been ransacked. The contents of your dresser, closet, and laundry hamper had been strewn all over the room. Your bed was a mess and had a tangy sour smell emanating from it. Rob wrinkled his nose in disgust, who ever broke had made themselves far too comfortable in your home for his liking. He noted that in the heaps of clothing scattered around the room, Rob couldn't see a single undergarment.

Lucci's thoughts were disrupted by a soft clinking in the adjoined bathroom. The large man turned his attention to the door that stood ajar. His sharp ears heard someone distinctly mutter, "Come here, come to Papa, I'll wrap this cord around your pretty little neck before you even know what's happening."

Rob's skin rippled as he transformed into his Zoan form, anger causing his hackles to stand on end. He charged the door with such a force that it cracked in two. A scrawny man threw himself back with a shrill yell. The leopard man towered over him and growled, "Well, well, well, who do we have here?"

The man scuttled backward, and cried, "Don't hurt me!"

"I'd kill you here and now," Rob hissed, lifting a clawed hand that glimmered in the moonlight. "But that would make a large mess, and your blood would undoubtedly stain my tile floor."

"Your floor?... This is your house?" The man stammered.

Rob paused, wondering if this pathetic man had accidentally broken into the wrong house.

"I thought they live here alone?" The man added.

Lucci asked, "Do you mean the one whose photo hangs in the hall?" When the coward nodded, Rob sneered, "That's my partner, and you've fucked up big time."

"I've never seen you here before." The man countered, "If you really loved them, you'd never leave someone so special."

Rob grabbed the man by his collar and threw him into the bedroom. He grumbled, "Not that it's any of your business, but I'm a Cipher Pole agent. Now start cleaning while we wait for the police to show, everything better be back in the spot you found it by the time you're done." When Lucci flipped on the light, the intruder started to shriek at the sight of his Zoan form.

"Stop screaming!" Rob roared, smacking the man upside the head, causing the intruder to fall over. There on the floor, Lucci could see his favorite pair of your underwear, sticking out of this man's pants pocket. Rob could feel a vein throbbing in his temple as he yelled, "Empty your pockets!"

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[badbtssmut]

Palestine resources and Gazafunds

Recent work: Kinktober masterlist

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Jungkook | Taehyung | Jimin

OT7 ; Freeuse with Hybe staff. Cheerleader. Pokernight.

Maknae line ; Freeuse manager.

Multimembers ; Vmin breeding. Vmin freeuse. Breastfeeding Taekook. Swingers Taekook. Public mall Vmin. Friends Taekook.Taekook Same bed. Taekook club. Vmin bus.Taekook roommates.

Taehyung

Hostclub

Yes, sir

Jungkook

Police officer

Ex with benefits

Money shot

Magic stick

Maknae line

So what?

Sticky fingers

Multi members

A party for three

Reckless and sweet

OT7

Freeuse movie night

Birthday party

Illegal sex party

Cult ritual

Freeuse girlfriend

Namjoon’s tutorial

Their turns ft Namjoon

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Smut recommendations | Requests archive | Kinktober masterlist

Kinktober

If you send me asks regularly, feel free to use an emoji ❤️

🦎 = lizard anon (Lizzy)

🩷 = heart anon (Millie)

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☔ = umbrella anon (Ella)

🐮 = cow anon (Momo)

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🐑 = sheep anon

☃️ = snowman anon

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☃️ = same anon as above? (Snow)

Shrek

[shouyuus]

chapter two: tell no tales

roronoa zoro; 3,029 words; fluff and angst, enemies to lovers, slowburn, depressed!zoro, ship therapist!nami, dick!zoro bc he cannot process emotions, no "y/n", trauma bonding

summary: in which zoro starts to believe in ghosts

a/n: hi from the new blog friends! yes, i know it's a little confusing, but please bear with me !! this series is indeed moving to here to the new blog, but the masterlist will live on my old blog till i've got all the links up, and i can reblog onto the new one.

< to the table of contents

The following hours are a blur of bodies and color, the setting sun bleeding out over the distant sky, the tiny island retreating in the distance as the Merry jolts along the choppy waves. Nami’s hand, Luffy’s arm, Usopp offering to take his midnight watch, Sanji pressing a bottle of something and a tray of riceballs into his hands.

Zoro drinks. And drinks. And drinks.

He drinks until the earth sways beneath him in ways he’s certain isn’t just the rocking of the ship. He drinks until the sky pivots above him, seeping into the darkness of his little corner room. He drinks, and he sleeps.

And he dreams of you.

In his dreams, you’re vibrant and laughing, your cheeks full of color, your lips brushed in reds or pinks or purples. You offer him a freshly made mochi, your fingertips dusted in rice flour. He reaches out for it but just before he can take it, the tiny little sweet splits open to reveal a raw, bleeding heart.

Blood trickles between your fingertips, slicking down your arm like pomegranate juice.

Zoro looks up to find you smiling, but there’s blood oozing down the sides of your face, collecting in the dip of your collarbones from a massive gunshot wound to the side of your head.

You cock your head, offering him the bloodied mochi.

“C’mon, take it! Everyone else got one!”

He jerks awake to a quiet knock at his door and Sanji’s muffled voice from the other side.

“Breakfast, mosshead. Made your favorites — grilled mackerel and miso soup and rice. I’ll uh — keep it warm for ya, but not for long, okay?”

Zoro swallows passed the dryness in his throat, closing his eyes and pressing a hand to his face, shielding himself from the bright orange light seeping in from the little window in the corner. After a few more minutes, he swings himself out of bed, dragging his swords with him down the hallway into the kitchen.

Everyone is there, gathered around the hanging table, talking in whispered tones. They all go quiet when Zoro rounds the door, and Usopp clears his throat, leaning back with a forced lightness.

“Seems like we’ll be hitting the next island soon!” he says, eyes darting towards Nami, who sighs and nods.

“Yeah, it’s only a few more days till we get to the next island,” she says, glancing back down at her hands, “then it’s straight up into the Grand Line.”

Zoro nods, dropping into one of the empty seats and pulling the only fully set tray of food towards him. He stares at the carefully arranged items — the fish grilled to skin-crisp perfection, the miso soup still hot enough to steam, the rice fluffy and sweet.

He picks up his chopsticks.

“Good,” he says, his voice too soft, “the faster we get there… the better.”

It’s strange, how Zoro’s never before believed in ghosts. But now, he sees the shadow of you in everything he does. In the swift swish of his swords through the air, in the flutter of wind in the Merry’s sails, in the rhythmic creak of the planks of the main deck.

He thinks of you, of the sadness that had flickered in your eyes the second before Crocodile (or Mr. 0 as he’s known in Baroque Works; they’d since figured out his name and his ranking, but not much else) pressed the gun to your head and pulled the trigger.

He finds himself reliving the moment, sinking into the infinitesimal space between the breath and the gunshot; he searches it as if there might have been clues tucked in the way your throat had caught or the specific way your lashes had fluttered. He thinks, at least, you hadn’t looked scared.

And maybe, that in and of itself is the mercy.

— — —

He sees you again in Mag Mell, a tiny jewel box island tucked along the edges of Paradise. It’s an island of dreamers, of poets and painters, musicians and mystics, with wending streets papered in silver dust, and houses painted in dessert-bright colors, with pearl-gilded roofs, and golden-tipped steeples hung with glittering crystal bells that tolled by the passing hours.

People here sang easily and laughed freely, and it’s all Zoro can do not to look for you around the bend of every street corner, to jolt at every single peal of bright, unabashed laughter.

You would’ve been so happy here — at least the you from his childhood memories. Guilt claws at his insides. He should’ve done more — should’ve tried harder to save you —

So when he does catch glimpse of you, the you that’s been haunting all his all sleepless nights, he isn’t sure if he’s actually dreaming. But how could he be? They’d just docked hours ago — with Sanji and Usopp off shopping for groceries, and Luffy plowing through the market for food, Nami doing… whatever Nami does in cities like these.

At first, he thinks its his eyes playing tricks — his subconscious toying with him in this place that seems so cruelly perfect for the you of his memory, as if his dreams hadn’t been ruthless enough. But then, he hears your voice, and he’s sure it’s you.

He follows you down one twisting alley, and then another, the streets folding over one another like tributaries to a mother stream. Around the third bend, he loses you, and for a frantic moment, he finds himself spinning around himself once, twice, until a thin pair of arms slams him up against the far wall, painted a deep mahogany red.

“What part of don’t follow me are you not understanding?” your voice is nothing more than a hissed breath, tight and angry and pleading, but it’s yours.

The next moment, Zoro has you flipped, pinning you to the opposite wall, this time in a blinding turquoise, his teeth bared, a sword poised at your throat.

“Who the fuck are you?” he asks, forcing out the words, his heart a wild, untamed thing beating in his chest, hard enough to sting. His eyes are too wide, searching your face desperately as if looking for a sign, a slip-up that might prove you’re not who you look like you are, and yet —

The wry way your lip twists up has his stomach roiling within him. You stop struggling, tilting your head to look at him in the gather of shadows of the deserted alley.

“What? Forgotten me already? And here I thought dying in front of you would make more of a lasting impression —”

“Exactly,” Zoro bites back, unable to stop his sword from digging into the skin of your neck, a thin line of blood seeping out from beneath your otherwise unmarred skin, “I saw — I watched you —” his throat seizes forcibly over the word die and he struggles for a few seconds before he jerks back, “I watched you get shot.”

You rub at your throat with a ginger hand, drawing it away to stare at the rub of red there, your expression inscrutable.

“Yeah… that you did.”

He whips his sword out to the side before slipping it into its sheath with a dull shink.

You eye it warily, the late afternoon sun creeping into the alley inch by golden inch. It kisses at your toes and creeps up your ankles as you stare at the sword at Zoro’s side.

“That was Kuina’s, wasn’t it?” you ask.

The name slams into Zoro like a gut-punch, and it’s all he can do to keep himself from stumbling.

“So what if it is?” he asks, a quaver to his voice that he almost doesn’t recognize. He turns away from you to stare at the strip of street visible from the darkened alley. A little girl with twin pigtails skips by holding a fistful of multicolored balloons, giggling as a boy races after her, trying to steal one.

“Can’t believe you still have it after all these years.”

“Yeah, well. Call me sentimental,” but his voice is flat, almost sardonic as he turns back to stare at you.

You allow him a helpless grin, “You always were more sentimental than you’d let on. Even when we were kids.”

“You died,” he spits the word out like poison, and you flinch, almost as if struck by it. He takes a deep, steadying breath but makes no move to back down as he asks, “so how the hell are you still here?”

You press your lips, casting your eyes away, your head lowered.

“You’re on a crew with a guy made of rubber — can’t you figure it out?” you ask, rueful and quiet.

Zoro scoffs, “So far as I know, there ain’t no Devil Fruits that can make you immortal.”

You wince again, though when you do speak, there’s a weary humor tacked to the ends of your words.

“You were always smarter than you let on too,” you say, finally looking up, “you’re right. It’s not a Devil Fruit.”

Zoro frowns, unable to keep the intrigue from bubbling up his chest as he watches you.

“Then…” he trails off, waiting.

A golden shaft of sun slants fully into the alley now, finally high enough to hit the side of your face, casting your features into stark relief. Like this, he can see the hollows of your cheeks, the blueness in your lips. But also, the flicker of light that once danced like fireworks behind your eyes.

“It was a deal,” you say, as the sun shifts behind a soft gauzy cloud, tossing the island into a momentary shadow once more, and your face is again shrouded in darkness, “with the Devil himself.”

— — —

“So… you can’t die,” Sanji says, stubbing out what must be his fifth cigarette since the beginning of the conversation.

A half-finished dinner service lays in an array of dishes before you, but even Luffy isn’t reaching out to pick at the remains.

You shake your head, “No, that’s the thing — I can. I just don’t tend to stay dead.”

Nami frowns, “But how does that even work? You get killed, and what — you just… respawn?”

You sigh, letting out a tired laugh, “Something like that. I die, and I wake up the next morning exactly in the last place I went to sleep.”

“Whoa, weird,” says Luffy, finally reaching for the remains of a whole roast chicken, stuffing a drumstick into his mouth.

You nod, “Very.”

Usopp is chewing on his bottom lips, looking concerned, “But… I mean — when you do d-die… does it still hurt?”

You slowly pivot to stare at him, your expression carefully neutral.

Beside you, Zoro shifts slightly, and everyone goes strangely still as they wait for your answer.

“Sometimes,” you say, carefully, “if the person killing me decides to make it hurt.”

Sanji leans back, staring up at the broad canopy of stars above the deck of the Merry.

The silence that stretches over the table is fraught with implication. Eventually, you let out a long breath, leaning back in your chair.

“But you get used to it after a while,” you say, the shadow of a smile quirking your lips.

Zoro narrows his eyes, “You make it sound easy.”

His voice is hard, his gaze fixed on a point just over Luffy’s shoulder. Beneath the low dip of his unbuttoned shirt, you can still see the remains of the scar Mihawk had left him with. No doubt he was remembering his own close tangle with death.

You lilt your head and roll your shoulders.

“What they don’t tell you about dying is that it’s the easiest thing… but easy doesn’t mean painless,” your voice is light and airy and painfully frivolous, “eventually, easy just means that at least… you know it’ll end.”

Across the table, Sanji lets out a breath as Nami gasps. Luffy purses his lips.

“But… as long as you fall asleep in a safe place, then even if you die, you’ll just wake up there again, right?” he asks.

You fix him with a look, before letting out a helpless laugh.

“Yeah, something like that. The only thing is — when you’re working for the big-bads, they tend to make sure you only ever fall asleep somewhere they can get their hands back on you.”

“But you’re with us now!” Luffy grins, puffing out his chest, “so we’ll make sure you stay alive without having to uh — die first. Good?”

Others might only see childish innocence in his words, but you can see the absolute certainty he evokes in the rest of his crew. And that, more than anything else, makes you believe him.

You let out a shaky breath.

“Yeah, okay.”

Zoro grunts as he gets up from the table, stalking off without another word. Nami sighs, watching him go before rolling her eyes and going after him.

Sanji strikes a match and lights up a new cigarette.

“Let him be. He was real beat up after seeing you —” Sanji dips his head, “well, you know. And he’s not what you’d call super in touch with his emotions, I think.”

He shoots you a good-natured wink.

You laugh, a tired, rubbed-raw sound, nodding.

“Yeah. I know.”

Sanji taps off a bit of ash and leans forward, “So — what’s the story?”

“What makes you think there’s a story?”

Sanji blows out a series of smoke rings before reaching over to refill your glass, “Mosshead’s not exactly known for makin’ friends wherever he goes, if you know what I mean,” he slides you smile before continuing, “so if he’s this —” Sanji pauses to cast about for a proper word, “attached… to someone, I figured there’s just gotta be a story, right love?”

You sigh, nodding as you take a long sip of your drink, savoring the coolness as it slides down your throat.

“You’re right… there is a story. But I’m not sure it matters much anymore. We’re both…” you look down at your hands, pale and pink in the fading firelight, “not the kids we used to be.”

Sanji shrugs, “Neither is any of us,” he coaxes, voice gentle, “but that doesn’t mean the kids that we were don’t matter any more.”

You nod, finally allowing the warmth of the fire to wash over you as you sit back in your chair.

“Alright then — it was a long time ago but… we grew up in the same village…”

— — —

“Hey — where’re you going?” Nami catches up with Zoro just beneath the main deck, the hallway scattered with pinpricks of light, seeping in through the cracks in the planks above.

Zoro spins around, his shoulders hunched.

“To be alone.”

Nami sighs, stopping a few steps short of him.

“What’s with you? Aren’t you happy that your — your friend is alive?”

Zoro bears down on Nami, his eyes flashing.

“I don’t trust her — what if it’s not her? What if it’s a —” he waves a hand through the thickening darkness between them, “an imposter?”

Nami’s eyebrows kick up, “What, finally get your hands on a dictionary in Mag Mell?”

“Fuck you.”

Nami laughs, folding her arms as she leans up against the darkened hallway wall.

“Fine, you don’t trust her — but what else can we do? Leave her here for Crocodile and the rest of Baroque Works to catch up to her?”

Zoro tsks, turning around to pace the length of the hallway, every muscle in his body feeling tight and wrung out.

“Wouldn’t matter much — she can’t die remember?”

“Yes, she can,” Nami says, her words harsh enough to stun Zoro still. She stalks up to him, her eyes blazing in the imminent dark. “You’ve almost died once — tell me, was it a pleasant experience?”

A muscle ticks in Zoro’s jaw, but he keeps his mouth clamped shut.

He remembers it in pieces, in fever-break moments and mind-numbing delusions. He remembers the bone-deep ache that had seemed to permeate every inch of his body, of the dull pounding in his head as he tried to piece together what his crewmates were saying to him, sitting by his bedside. He’d known they were there, but he’d couldn’t let them know, couldn’t force him limbs to move the way he wanted.

It had been nothing short of agony.

“Look, I’m not asking you to trust her but at least think — think about the life she would’ve led in Baroque Works. What they might’ve made her do if they knew that every time she died, she’d just wake up in the last place she fell asleep.”

Like this, Nami’s voice is soft, almost silken. A spate of unease slithers down Zoro’s spine.

Zoro stares down at her. It hadn’t been so long ago that he’d regarded Nami with the same kind of vague distrust.

“Think for a second, about the suicide missions they would’ve made her take.”

Those words ring through Zoro like a death knell, and he takes half a step back, his head spinning with the implications. She’s right, he hadn’t thought of the life you’d led; he’d been so caught up on the vast dissonance between the person you were and the person you'd become. He’d been so tangled in his own feelings of shame and anger that he hadn’t paused to think.

Nami sighs and takes a few more steps back.

“I mean. You heard her — just because dying is easy, that doesn’t make it painless.”

“I just —” Zoro closes his eyes, letting a clenched fist thump softly against the wall beside him. A terrible, hot prickling sensation is working its way up the back of his throat, constricting his airways. He swallows hard around it before turning to look at Nami once more.

“I just can’t stand the thought of losing her again.”

Nami lets out a breathy laugh, bobbing her head once. There’s still a steely light to her eyes, but her voice when she finally does speak is soft —

“Then make sure it doesn’t happen again. I mean, what are those three swords for anyway?”

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[imamuzansimp-oldblog-seoseoya]

Hi, may I make a hc request on the uppermoons + Muzan reacting to their human s/o getting her period and BAD cramps & how they would comfort her (if they’d even do it lmao😭) yk.. since blood = food, but they still love their s/o

Uppermoons + Muzan reacting to Fem!S/O with bad period cramps

content warnings: fluff, suggestive, manga spoilers, periods, mentions of blood and cramps, cuddles

word count: ~700

a/n: eeeeeeee!!!!! my first proper request! i’m so excited! i hope you don’t mind i only did the first three uppermoons + muzan for now, but i’ll come back to the others another time.

a/n 2: this is a tad bit rushed since i wrote this right before going to sleep

Muzan

okay but he lowkey has no clue what’s happening

even though he’s had multiple wives in the past, he was never really there. thus, he had no clue what to do

at first he just kinda stood there like 🕴️

but then he realized he should probably do something so he asked you what you needed

“my dear, what do you require?” he’d say. “it hurts…” you whine. your period had recently started and the cramps hurt like hell. “what hurts, did someone bring harm to you? whoever did shall die where they stand!” and you momentarily panic because nobody had hurt you. “no! zannie, nobody hurt me! don’t worry! it’s just my period!” you yelped, worried for the poor soul that narrowly might’ve escaped muzan’s wrath. “your…. period?” it’s rare that muzan appears bewildered, so this is a sight. “yea… basically for about a week every month, women have their periods. basically, it’s a time where we bleed out of our vagina and unfortunately it comes with way. too. many. cramps. there’s also other things like cravings and mood swings.” you explained. you noticed muzan started to get a hungry look in his eye. he had thought he’d smelled blood, but knowing it was from you and not because you were injured, he was resisting the urge to devour it that instant. “are you currently in pain due to cramps?” he asked, ever so politely. you nodded, it hurt like nothing else. “heat usually helps…” you muttered. muzan began to approach you. he snapped, and in just seconds the strum of a biwa was heard and a warm blanket and cup of tea appeared before you. muzan then proceeded to cuddle closer to you in the bed, and before you knew it, he was drinking your menstrual blood as he held your blanket covered waist. thank goodness the tea didn’t spill.

(i sorta got carried away)

Kokushibo

since he had a wife and kid (that he cared for) back when he was human, he knows how to handle it.

the second he smells blood he knows what’s happening and he enters your room with ice cream, mochi, tea, etc. and a pack that has been heated by the sun

he can control himself around your blood, especially because i believe the thought of drinking your blood would disgust him

“koku….” you said weakly as you watched him walk in the room. “my dear…” all six of his eyes softened when he laid eyes on you. “how’d you know?” you asked. “i’m a demon and your lover,  i could sense it.” he rested the heated pack on your crotch and gave you the sweets before he cuddled close. soon enough the cramps faded as your eyes dropped and you fell asleep in kokushibo’s arms.

(omg that was so short compared to muzan’s i’m sorry)

dōma

knows about periods. this is a fact.

drinks your blood. another fact.

nothing else to say except this:

dōma walked in seeing you curled up in a ball on your bed. he chuckled and said in his will-bending voice: “you poor little thing, you’re on your period aren’t you darling?” and you just laid there in pain and whimpered a ‘yes’. he walked closer to you, before putting a comforting hand to your cheek. “well, baby, did you know that stimulation can help with cramps?” he worded a question, though your answer wouldn’t change his imminent actions. “s-stimulation?” you looked up at him.  “oh, baby, you know what I mean…”

akaza

another guy who knows what it is

so respectful and he doesn’t eat women so obviously he doesn’t drink your blood

he just lets you curl up into him as he rubs your tummy 🥹

i’m sorry but akaza got me like 🧎‍♀️

“kaza…” you whimpered as best you could. “‘t hurts” you whined. your boyfriend stepped into the room. wordlessly, he approached you and got under the blankets. the first word he spoke occurred once he latched on as the big spoon with his big hands rubbing your stomach gently. “baby… don’t worry… i’ll always keep you from pain…” you leaned into his touch and stayed like that for the rest of the evening.

[aikrus]

My Sweet Kitten, Please Be Good

The room was dimly lit, with a soft, calming ambiance. The scent of Aizawa’s place—clean with a hint of something warm, like sandalwood—enveloped you, mixing with a heady spiced cinnamon, making everything feel both familiar and exhilarating. His cats had found their favorite spots around the apartment, quietly curled up on chairs or windowsills, watching you with disinterest, while Mochi, his gray tabby, still lounged in your lap. But tonight felt different, the tension between you and Aizawa subtly charged with something you both had been holding back for too long.

You'd both talked before about trust, desire, and the way boundaries blur when you're completely safe with someone. While you weren't insecure about your quirk, having long since grown into the bushy tail, puffed ears, and sensitive palms, it was something that Aizawa trended incredibly lightly over- especially in bed.

He shifted closer to you on the couch, his long fingers brushing over your leg before tracing a path up to your chin, tipping your face toward his. His dark eyes, so often unreadable, were filled with an intensity that made your pulse quicken. You could feel it in the way he looked at you— his touch, while gentle, held a new kind of authority that sent a shiver down your spine.

"You’ve been so good tonight," Aizawa murmured, his voice deep, almost a purr itself, as his thumb brushed your bottom lip. His gaze flicked down to Mochi, still content in your lap, before slowly returning to you. "It makes me wonder how obedient you can really be."

Your breath caught in your throat, your body reacting instinctively to the suggestion in his words. There was something playful, yet intense, in his tone—something that hinted at a game he wanted to play, one that excited him as much as it did you.

Aizawa leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "Do you trust me?"

You nodded, your voice coming out in a soft, breathless murmur. "Yes, Shouta."

His hand slid from your chin to the back of your neck, pulling you closer until his lips met yours in a slow, deliberate kiss. It wasn’t rushed—Aizawa was never rushed. He was always calculated, always in control, and it showed in the way his tongue slid against yours, teasing and exploring, as if savoring every second of your response.

When he pulled back, his eyes were darker, more intense, and his fingers tightened slightly around your neck, not enough to hurt, but enough to make your heart race.

"I think it’s time we play," he murmured, his voice low, almost a growl.

Aizawa’s love for cats was no secret, and that was what you chalked up the reasoning for him never acknowledging those parts of you specifically. Now though, with the absolutely obsessed face he made as he stroked your ear between two fingers and moaned at your purr, you knew otherwise.

"Good God," he whispered, brushing a thumb against your lips again. "I want you to be my little kitten tonight."

The words sent a thrill down your spine, and you felt yourself instinctively lean into his touch, your mind already racing with the possibilities of what he had in mind. Aizawa’s hand left your neck and reached over to the coffee table, where he picked up something that had been sitting there—an object you hadn’t noticed before. It was a soft black choker, adorned with a small silver bell that jingled faintly when he picked it up.

Your heart skipped a beat as he held it up, the subtle jingle of the bell making you hyper-aware of the shift in dynamic between the two of you. Aizawa’s dark eyes met yours again, his gaze unwavering as he leaned in closer, holding the bell between his fingers.

"Let’s see how well you play the part," he murmured, his voice like velvet as he brushed your hair back and wrapped the choker around your neck. His fingers were deft, careful, as he secured it in place, the bell resting lightly against your throat. The sensation of it there—a small, constant reminder of your submission—made your pulse race.

Once the choker was in place, Aizawa’s eyes flicked down to your chest, his lips curving into a small, satisfied smirk as the bell jingled softly with every subtle movement you made. He leaned back slightly, his hands trailing down your sides as he looked at you with a mixture of admiration and desire.

"Such a pretty little kitten," he said, his voice low and husky as he traced a finger along the curve of your jaw. "Do you know what good kittens do?"

You shook your head slightly, your breath coming out in shallow, uneven gasps as you waited for him to continue.

"They listen," he said softly, his fingers brushing over the bell at your throat, making it jingle softly again. "They follow instructions. They’re obedient."

You panted at the heavy fog and deep burning that sounded you.

"If they're good," he lifts his head and sucks the tip of your ear into his mouth, "they get rewarded." His hands pulled gently at the hem of your shirt, slowly spreading up your stomach and ribcage to sliver under your bra. "If they're bad," he said casually as his fingers swiftly seized your nipples and began to tug and kneed, "they're punished."

Aizawa’s eyes darkened as his hands slid lower, resting on your thighs as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear once more. "And I think you’re going to be a very good kitten for me tonight, aren’t you?"

Your body was already trembling with anticipation, the heat between your legs growing more intense with every word he spoke. You nodded again, your voice barely a whisper as you replied, "Yes, Shouta. I’ll be good."

Aizawa’s lips curled into a pleased smile, and he pressed a soft kiss to your cheek before pulling back slightly. "That’s what I like to hear," he murmured, his hands sliding up your thighs, parting them gently as he positioned himself between your legs.

He moved slowly, deliberately, his hands caressing your skin with a kind of reverence that sent shivers down your spine. His fingers traced over the soft fabric of your underwear before slipping beneath it, his touch warm and firm as he explored the wet heat between your legs.

You gasped softly, your hips instinctively bucking against his hand as he teased you, his fingers brushing lightly over your clit before sliding down to your entrance. The bell at your throat jingled softly with every movement, a constant reminder of the game you were playing, the role you were fulfilling.

"Such a good girl," Aizawa murmured, his voice full of praise as his fingers slowly slid inside you, curling and exploring in a way that made you moan softly. "So wet already."

His touch was slow, methodical, each movement of his fingers calculated to drive you closer to the edge without giving you the release you craved. He was taking his time, savoring every moment, every gasp and moan that escaped your lips.

And all the while, the bell continued to jingle softly, a quiet, constant reminder of your submission, of the power he held over you in this moment.

Aizawa leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your neck as he whispered, "Kittens need to be spoiled, don’t they?"

Aizawa's breath was warm against you, and the sensation of his lips, soft yet deliberate, sent shivers through your body. The way he spoke—low, rough, with an undertone of possession—made you ache with need. His fingers, slow and precise, moved inside you, pushing deeper as he claimed every inch of your response.

His touch was gentle, but it carried with it an edge that had you trembling beneath him, the need for more, for everything, building rapidly. You could feel your body tightening, the tension pooling between your legs as he controlled every movement.

"You’re so good for me," he muttered against your skin, his voice thick with desire. "Look at you, following my every move."

You gasped, your hands gripping his forearm, your head falling back as his fingers moved faster, bringing you closer to the edge. The bell on the choker jingled with every shift of your body, reminding you of your role in this quiet, intimate game. Aizawa was treating you with a mixture of care and dominance, a perfect balance of trust and control.

"Do you like this, kitten?" Aizawa’s breath was a hot whisper against your ear as he leaned in to kiss your collarbone, his fingers never ceasing their movement. "Do you like being spoiled like this?"

You could only nod, the words caught in your throat as the pleasure swirled inside you, too much and not enough all at once. Every part of you burned with need, and the only thing you could focus on was how good he made you feel—how completely he had you.

"I’m going to take care of you," Aizawa whispered, his tone more intense now, and the possessiveness in his voice sent a thrill through your body. His hand slid from your neck down to your chest, tracing the curve of your breast before tugging at the fabric of your clothes, exposing more of your skin to him.

You shivered under his touch, the way he looked at you—hungry and affectionate at once—making your pulse quicken. You wanted him so badly, you needed to be closer, to feel every part of him. Without thinking, your hands roamed to his shirt, fumbling slightly as you tugged at it, eager to have him bare before you.

Aizawa pulled back just enough to help you, his dark eyes locking with yours, and his expression was soft yet commanding. His fingers, still deep inside you, stilled as he looked down at you, watching your face, waiting for you to meet his eyes.

"Are you ready?" he asked, his voice low, filled with anticipation.

You nodded, your lips trembling as you whispered, "Yes... I need you."

He didn’t hesitate after that. Aizawa withdrew his fingers, his other hand helping you to sit up as he finally, finally shed the rest of his clothes. The moment his body was bare before you, you gasped—he was lean, muscular, every inch of him sculpted with care and strength. His eyes watched you, calm yet burning with intensity as you took him in.

You were both on the edge—both desperate for the same thing.

Aizawa’s hands rested on your hips, his touch gentle, though the way his thumb traced slow, deliberate circles made your breath catch. He leaned in, his lips pressing against your temple in a fleeting, tender kiss before moving down, brushing his lips over your neck, your collarbone, your chest—each kiss building the heat between you.

His hands slid to your thighs, parting your legs as he positioned himself between them, his dark hair falling into his eyes as he looked up at you one last time. The bell on your choker jingled softly, a quiet, constant reminder of the game you were playing, the trust and control, the way he made you feel—like a kitten in his care.

"You’re mine, aren’t you?" he murmured, his voice rough with desire, and without waiting for an answer, he guided himself to your entrance, his eyes never leaving yours.

The first slow thrust of his hips had you gasping, your body clenching around him as he stretched you open, filling you completely. The sensation of him inside you was both overwhelming and intoxicating, making you ache with the need for more.

"Yes, I’m yours," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath, but Aizawa heard it, and the satisfied, almost possessive smile that tugged at his lips sent a fresh wave of heat through you.

He moved slowly at first, his pace measured, almost methodical as he watched you—taking in every reaction, every gasp and moan that escaped your lips. His hands rested on your hips, his fingers pressing firmly as he guided your movements, pulling you closer with each deep thrust.

The pace grew faster, more urgent as your body began to respond in kind, meeting his movements with increasing fervor. The pleasure was building inside you, that slow, tight coil winding tighter with every roll of his hips, every stroke that had you clinging to him.

"You’re doing so well," Aizawa murmured, his voice thick with admiration and lust. "So good for me, kitten."

His words sent a shudder through you, the weight of his praise, the way he spoke to you—like you were everything to him, and you were willing to give him all of you. His pace quickened, his fingers digging into your skin as he brought you closer to the edge, the pressure building inside you.

You gasped as your orgasm approached, your fingers gripping his shoulders as you arched against him, your body trembling. "Shouta... I—" You couldn’t finish, the words lost in the rush of pleasure that was quickly consuming you.

"Come for me, kitten," he growled, his grip tightening as he drove deeper into you, faster now, faster, until your mind went blank, and you felt the wave of release crash over you like a storm, leaving you breathless and moaning his name.

Aizawa groaned as your body tightened around him, and he grew in speed like a man possessed. Your body lurched in response, flinging your head into his broad shoulder and pulling off of him slightly in the process. With a deep growl he grabbed roughly at the back base of your neck and pulled you back down onto the mattress, pistoning into you at a deathly tantalizing speed. Reaching down with his spare hand he pinched your clit once before using his index to move rapidly across it.

You hadn't even come off your first high before Shouta had thrown you into another one. In a few hard, controlled thrusts, he followed you over the edge, his own release flooding inside you as he collapsed against your chest, breathing heavily.

For a moment, neither of you moved, both of you wrapped in the warmth of the other, the shared intimacy of the moment hanging in the air between you. Aizawa’s breathing slowed, his body relaxing against yours as he pulled you closer, his hand gently resting on your choker, as if ensuring it was still in place.

"Good girl," he whispered, his lips brushing against your forehead in a soft, lingering kiss. "Such a good kitten."

You smiled softly, your body still trembling from the aftershocks of your release, but the warmth of his embrace, the steady rhythm of his breath, made you feel safe, secure, and cherished. You were his, and he was yours.

And that was enough.

You felt his gaze trace the lines of your body, lingering on your flushed skin. There was something about the way he looked at you—an intensity, a need to claim but also care for.

Aizawa was never one to rush, especially when it came to you. There was a methodical slowness to how he touched you, how he approached every new moment, but now, you saw something else—an almost predatory precision in his movements. He was studying every inch of you, and it wasn’t about control anymore. It was about devotion.

He leaned down, his lips brushing lightly against the curve of your collarbone, his breath warm against your skin. You could feel him exhale against your sensitive flesh, the soft touch of his lips enough to make your skin tingle. You shuddered, instinctively leaning into the touch, a quiet sigh escaping your lips.

Aizawa’s hand slipped down from your waist, tracing the shape of your thigh, before he looked up at you, his voice rough but gentle. “You’re still so perfect,” he muttered, the words sending a jolt through your chest.

You watched him closely as he moved down your body, his gaze never leaving yours, studying your reactions. He leaned in closer, placing a soft, lingering kiss along the inside of your thigh. You couldn’t help but tense in anticipation. It was a tender gesture, but there was a hunger to it—a sense of needing to taste, to touch, to claim. His mouth lingered on your skin, savoring the feel of you against his lips.

He was meticulous—his lips brushing over your skin, as though he were memorizing every inch of you. Then, as if it were a natural instinct, his lips parted, and he pressed a soft kiss closer to where your pulse beat furiously under your skin. You moaned softly, your body reacting to the gentle pressure of his lips.

Aizawa didn’t speak, but you felt the shift in him—a deep, wordless understanding. He knew what he wanted, and now, his mouth trailed lower, the heat of his breath warming your sensitive skin. His lips moved with purpose, pressing sweet, firm kisses against the inside of your thighs. He took his time, slowly building the tension, enjoying the act of loving you.

When his lips finally touched the sensitive nerves at the apex of your thighs, your breath hitched. He paused there, just for a moment, his eyes flicking up to meet yours, as if asking for permission—asking if this was what you wanted. There was no hesitation in your response, no words needed; your body leaned into his touch, craving more of him.

With a low, approving murmur, Aizawa dipped his head down, his tongue tracing a slow, deliberate path across your folds. The sensation was soft, almost reverent, the pressure of his mouth more intense with each pass. His movements were patient, controlled, but there was also an edge of hunger there, an insatiable need to taste more of you, to explore the parts of you he hadn’t yet claimed.

His lips were firm, but the way he used his tongue—slow, languid strokes—had you gasping, your hands gripping the sheets as your head fell back, overwhelmed by the feeling of him worshipping you with each tender kiss. He was savoring you, as though he couldn’t get enough of the way you responded to him.

You whimpered softly, your fingers threading through his disheveled hair, guiding him closer, but Aizawa pulled back slightly, his breath coming in shallow bursts. His dark eyes, filled with desire, met yours once again. The bell rings softly as you tilt your head down to see him.

“I want to hear you,” he said, his voice rough with an undercurrent of desire. “I want you to let me know how much you like it.”

You gasped, a shiver running down your spine at his words. You couldn’t help but obey. “I-I like it, Shouta,” you whispered, your voice trembling with the raw need inside you.

He smiled faintly, the curve of his lips almost imperceptible, but the way his eyes softened told you all you needed to know. “Good girl,” he whispered against your skin, before diving back in.

His mouth continued its slow, purposeful dance, his tongue teasing and tasting you, every stroke drawing out more sounds, more reactions from you.

As the moments stretched on, your body became a tangle of sensations, the pleasure building in slow waves, crashing over you with every stroke. And through it all, Aizawa never hurried. His touch was steady, his devotion to your pleasure evident in every deliberate action that drove you crazy.

"You're so responsive," he whispered, his voice a low, intimate growl that made your entire body shiver. His hands slid higher, resting on your hips, grounding you as he moved, his lips barely brushing the sensitive skin at the edge of your inner thigh. His dark eyes were filled with a hunger you had never seen before, but there was also something deeper—an unspoken affection, a care that made your heart race.

You were breathing heavily now, your pulse quickening, as his mouth continued its careful, tantalizing exploration. His tongue traced slow, teasing lines across the delicate skin, the heat of his touch making your skin feel like it was burning, and you couldn’t help but writhe beneath him, your body craving more.

"Shouta... please," you gasped, your hands tangled in his disheveled hair, pulling him closer.

Aizawa looked up at you, his expression dark and possessive, but there was also something gentler in his gaze. He seemed to be studying you, watching the way your body reacted to his every touch. "Begging already?" he asked, his voice rough with desire, but there was a teasing edge to it.

The heat in your core surged, and you could feel a soft pressure building, as though your body were being pulled toward something that was just out of reach. You wanted to answer him, to give him the response he was clearly waiting for, but all you could do was nod, your fingers tightening in his hair as you tried to steady your breath.

"I want to feel you," you whispered, your voice trembling with need. "I need you, Shouta."

He let out a low, approving sound as his hands tightened on your hips, pulling you even closer as his lips continued to trace the curve of your inner thigh. He moved deliberately, his tongue gliding in soft, teasing strokes, making you squirm beneath him, your entire body on fire. His touch was slow, but there was no mistaking the demand in his movements.

"Good girl," he murmured, his voice low and rough, the words a dark promise that made your skin prickle with heat. "You’re mine to take care of, to please."

His words, his tone, were a mixture of praise and dominance, and it only made the pressure inside you grow stronger. You felt that familiar tightness coil, as though you were on the verge of breaking apart, but you didn’t want it to end. You wanted more—more of him, more of this slow, exquisite torture.

"You’re doing so well," he breathed, his voice thick with desire. His lips brushed against your skin before he took a slow, deliberate taste, his tongue teasing in gentle, circular motions.

Your breath hitched in your throat as the pressure inside you finally snapped, a wave of pleasure surging through you, and you cried out, the sound echoing through the room. Aizawa didn’t let up, though. He kept his movements steady, his mouth working you through your release, his fingers digging into your hips, grounding you as your body convulsed with pleasure.

When the wave of sensations passed, and you were left breathless beneath him, Aizawa pulled back just enough to look at you, his face dark with satisfaction. His lips were glistening, but there was something almost playful in his expression as he brushed a strand of hair behind your ear.

"You look incredible," he whispered, his hand sliding up your side, his touch warm and possessive. "But I’m far from finished with you."

His words sent a fresh wave of heat rushing through you, and without another word, Aizawa leaned down to kiss you—slow, deep, and possessive. The taste of you lingered on his lips, mixing with his need, and it only made you crave more. His hands roamed over your body, exploring the newly exposed skin, his touch firm and guiding.

"You’re mine tonight," he murmured against your lips, his voice low and thick with desire. "And I’m going to make sure you remember it."

Every brush of his lips, every caress of his hands, he moved with precision, his control never faltering, but you could sense the growing desperation beneath the surface, the need for release that mirrored your own.

Aizawa’s kisses grew more insistent, his hands wandering, taking their time to explore, as though he were rediscovering every inch of you. The intimacy of the moment was overwhelming, and you let yourself melt into his touch, surrendering to the slow, building wave of passion that took over you both.

He leaned back slightly, his eyes dark, filled with a possessive hunger that only grew as he watched you. "I want to feel every part of you," he murmured, the words dripping with desire.

The exhaustion seeped into you rapidly, as your eyes fluttered shut.

God I feel so good.

Aizawa pulled back slowly, his breathing still heavy but steadying, his dark eyes searching your face for something, any sign of discomfort. His hand rested gently on your hip, his thumb stroking small, soothing circles into your skin.

You were both quiet for a few moments, just basking in the aftermath, the silence comforting as your bodies adjusted to the peaceful calm that followed. You could feel the tenderness in the way Aizawa touched you, as if he was trying to ground you, to reassure you that everything was okay.

He shifted beside you, pulling you closer until your head rested against his chest. His hand moved up to gently brush the hair from your face, his touch slow and deliberate, like he was memorizing the way you felt in this moment.

“You’re okay,” he murmured softly, his voice low but full of concern. He could feel your breath still uneven, your pulse racing beneath his fingertips. “Breathe, just like that. I’ve got you.”

You nodded, feeling the softness of his voice wrap around you like a protective blanket. The connection between you two felt stronger now, the raw intensity of the moment replaced by an overwhelming sense of comfort.

His other hand, warm and calloused, slid up to your shoulder, gently squeezing as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

You let your eyes flutter shut once more, your body relaxing into his warmth, the tenderness of it all washing over you. “Thank you,” you whispered, your voice soft and vulnerable.

Aizawa's breath hitched slightly at the sincerity in your words, and he pulled you in a little closer, as if needing to feel you against him, to make sure you were really there, really okay. He buried his face in your hair, inhaling deeply, almost as though he was savoring the scent of you—the aftermath, the peace that now filled the space where there had been only fire moments before.

“You don’t need to thank me,” he whispered. His hand moved from your shoulder to your side, his fingers tracing lazy patterns across your skin. “I’m here. I’ll always be here for you.”

The quiet weight of his words made your heart swell. You could feel the love behind them, and the care, the desire to keep you safe and cherished.

You shifted slightly, pressing your cheek against his chest, letting the steady beat of his heart lull you into further relaxation. His hand rested on your back, a comforting pressure that grounded you in the moment.

“I’ve got you,” he repeated, his voice like a soothing balm, each word brushing over you like a kiss. “Let me take care of you now.”

And so he did. His movements were slow and careful as he tucked a few strands of hair behind your ear and kissed your forehead. His hands stroked gently over your body, a way of reaffirming his presence, of showing you that he was there and that you were safe and cherished.

After a few minutes, Aizawa reached over and grabbed a soft blanket, pulling it over both of you. He shifted slightly so you could settle against him more comfortably, his arm draping over your waist. You fit perfectly in his embrace, as though you belonged there.

He pressed a soft kiss to your temple, his voice now quieter, more intimate. “Get some rest,” he whispered. “We’ll talk more tomorrow. You’re safe, I promise.”

You nodded, your eyelids heavy, the exhaustion from the intense connection weighing you down. You felt safe in his arms, the warmth of his body a shield against the world outside.

As you began to drift off, Aizawa’s hand remained gently resting on your side, his breathing slow and steady, matching yours. The rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear was a lullaby, a reminder that no matter what, he would always be there.

The last thing you remembered before sleep took you was the feel of his lips on your forehead, whispering softly, “I love you.”

And in that moment, you knew that you were truly home.

[turtletaubwrites]

Sweet Abduction ~ Part 3 ~ End

I absolutely adored this request, and you can click here for Part 1 and Part 2. I was nervous about trying my hand at some smut with this lovely 16.5 ft (509 cm) tall man, but y'all overwhelmingly voted for a smutty ending, so I did my best. I hope you enjoy this sweet conclusion! 💜🍩

Pairings: Katakuri x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3781

Ao3 Link

Summary: You and your new husband get to know each other, and what makes the other feel good. Maybe this abduction was a miracle after all.

Rating/Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, 18+, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Fluff, Smut, Light Angst, Grief, (reader's dad has passed and she thinks about him a lot), Arranged Marriage, Forced Marriage, Vaginal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Spit, Comeplay, Size Kink, Human/Monster Romance, He's freaking 16 ft tall, Reader is too sweet for this world

A/N: I love these two so much, they deserve all the sweetness in the world! 🥰

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 | ko-fi |

Every slow, steady step of the man who carried you sent your heart beating faster.

Your husband held you against his massive chest, the moment you were waiting for fast approaching. Your lungs didn’t quite know what to do now that it was so close. 

“Do you have a map? I think I’ll get lost in here on my own.”

Katakuri’s soft chuckle felt so soothing through his warm skin.

“I’ll have one drawn up for you. There’s also some vehicles that you can use to traverse it quickly, and tomorrow the staff will return, so you can always ask for their assistance.”

“Staff,” you chirped, once again feeling out of place.

“Yes. I dismissed them for the evening so that we… I thought we should be alone on our wedding night.”

He couldn’t see your shy smile as you bit your lip, but you were sure he felt the bob of your head as you tapped it against his chest. 

“Here we are,” he announced, opening a door made for someone his size.

“How do I open the door?”

Katakuri apologized, clearing his throat as he set you down. You had never met anyone so calm and polite, and you had no idea why it should make your skin flush the way it does.

Beside the door he’d opened was one your size, and you bit the inside of your lip to hold in laughter. 

It’s like a pet door.

The image of your door, so tiny next to his, reminded you of those little doors for dogs and cats.

It didn’t seem right to make that sort of comment on your wedding night when you didn’t know how he’d react, so you bounced on your toes, trying to think of anything else.

He led you inside an immense suite that hardly seemed different than all the walkways and rooms you’d already passed. 

Except for a corner of the room that had been decorated as an extravagant bedroom for you, your furniture looking adorable amidst all the space. 

“Where’s your bed?”

Reaching to touch his knee as you surveyed the room, the only furniture you saw of his size was a desk and chair. 

“I never lay on my back.”

“Katakuri,” you hissed, poking his leg, “Please tell me we don’t have to keep up the lie in our own bedroom?” 

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he said softly, kneeling to see you closer, “the staff enter this room occasionally, and I can’t risk it.”

A pout formed on your face from the disappointment, but he only smiled, bringing his finger to his lips as if shushing you.

That finger stretched, and your eyes went wide as the tip of it formed into a key.

He stood against a blank wall and pressed a brick as if it were a button. The wall slid away to reveal a large door, which he unlocked with that mochi key, offering his hand to carry you inside. 

“This secret really is precious to you,” you giggled, listening to the wall slide back into place after he locked you in with him.

“It is.”

Your laughter halted as he set you down on the edge of the bed. 

“Don’t worry,” you promised, gripping the soft blankets as he sat on the floor in front of you. “You’re my family now. I’ll protect your secret.”

“I know,” he said, the trust in his deep voice making you smile.

The small smile on his wide lips brought that fluttery feeling back, and you dangled your feet off the side of the bed. The bed was only a little taller than you were, so hopping onto it yourself would be like jumping a fence.

Falling off of it in the dark would still hurt.

Meeting his crimson eyes, your skin flushed again as you realized how distracted your mind was. How nervous you were. How he sat so patiently, his silence always peaceful instead of awkward. 

“Y/N, we don’t ha–”

“Katakuri, can you–”

“Sorry,” he cleared his throat as you gave a small laugh, “you go first.”

Your voice came out high as you tried not to squirm. 

“Can you kiss me again?”

This time his silence held more than peace. His brows tensed just slightly, looking at you as if he didn’t understand. 

But he came to you. 

One of those strong, warm hands stroked your hair, pressing lightly against your back. As he moved in, you couldn’t believe how a man so sweet could have such sharp and dangerous teeth. 

I know he won’t hurt me. 

The thought made you sigh with contentment, and you pressed your lips against his larger ones, minding the tusk-like fangs on either side. 

“Wait,” you breathed against him before pulling yourself up to kneel on the bed.

Those eyes were even more gorgeous up close, and you smiled at him before tracing your fingers along his jaw. 

The way he’d reacted when you kissed his neck earlier made you want to kiss him more, so you did.

His hand on your back tensed when you laid your lips along his scars, but you whispered ‘wait,’ and he let you keep going. Keep touching and kissing his beautiful face until you heard, and felt, a satisfied hum move through him. 

“This feels good?”

“It does. What feels good for you?”

Shyness hit you again, and you bought time by taking off your shoes and tossing them as far as you could, bringing what seemed to be another rare smile to those wide lips. 

You hoped that smile wouldn’t be rare with you.

“I like when you touch me,” you started, fighting to keep eye contact as the hand at your back moved softly against your hair and shoulders. “I like when you hold me. I like feeling you.”

“Will you tell me if you don’t like something, or want to stop?”

“Of course,” you agreed, grabbing his wrist, “will you keep telling me what you like?”

“Let’s agree to do both,” he said, both of you nodding as he pulled his hand away. 

“If you’re comfortable, Y/N,” he started, his deep eyes pouring over you, “I would love to see you. All of you.”

“Oh.”

Blood rushed to your face, your cheeks, the tips of your ears, but you climbed away from the edge to stand on the bed. 

After a moment of struggle, you couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled up.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t think I can take it off myself,” you gasped with laughter, turning to show him the complicated lacing that a team of servants had done up for you.

“May I help,” he chuckled softly, bringing his fingers to your wedding dress when you agreed.

Just those fingers running along your spine, pulling and tugging at your dress, was enough, bringing more delightful chills across your skin.

“Hmm…”

“What,” you asked, voice breathy.

“Would you be opposed to me tearing the lacing open? I don’t believe I can untie this without harming you or the dress.”

“I don’t mind! I didn’t even pick it out,” you laughed.

“I’m sorry–”

“Oh, don’t be sorry, Katakuri. I’m happy we’re here together now,” you turned to smile at his guilt ridden face. “Please get this thing off of me, husband.”

Seeing guilt replaced with satisfaction at your words made you want to keep doing that. Keep making your sweet, frightening partner look happy. 

“Will you trust me?”

You agreed, then followed as he guided you into his hand, leaning over to bare your back to him.

“Please stay still, Y/N.”

A breath held in your body as he brought you close to his face. He never touched your skin, but you felt the laces snap and loosen, and knew he’d cut them with his teeth. 

So sharp. 

He set you on your feet, and you held your dress up as the back fell. Katakuri opened and closed his mouth, and you realized that you could both talk awkwardly through the whole night if one of you didn’t push through.

You let that heavy, decadent fabric fall down your skin, giggling a little as you had to shimmy it down your hips. You hopped out of the circle of fabric, and tried not to cover yourself with your as you stood in lingerie. 

What do I do with my hands?

Katakuri’s eyes were so intense, as if you could feel them on you. Instead of squirming, you surprised yourself, stripping the lingerie until nothing but skin remained.

He took a deep breath, and sighed, tilting his head toward you.

“You are gorgeous, Y/N. I thought so the moment we met.”

“Same to you,” you teased, deciding to sit back down to fight off the urge to hide.

He removed his white boots and vest while you watched. You bit your lip not to laugh at how cute it was that he’d kept his frightening spikes and buckles, and just made everything white. Sitting in front of you again, his smile seemed stronger, as if he was starting to believe it was alright to show it. 

“I would like to make you feel good. Can I try?”

“Yes, please,” you breathed, hands shaking with nerves as Katakuri bunched up the blanket behind you like a pillow. He leaned over you, that soft press of lips against yours before he hovered over your chest, eyes darker now. 

“Please tell me if this is alright,” he checked in, humming quietly as you nodded.

The touch of his breath on your skin was already amazing, breathing over your chest, your stomach, your legs. His hands brought a gasp to your throat, arching your back as he traced fingers all over you, until your skin was tingling.

“That feels so good.”

Your praise was like an invitation, and soon those large fingers were massaging your breasts. He was so so gentle as he teased your nipples, and you heard his soft intake of breath when you cried out. 

Those fingers trailed down to your thighs, spreading them softly.

“Is it al–”

“Please touch me, Katakuri,” you begged, spreading your legs further for him.

All the deep, pleased noises he had let out as you reacted to him made your eyes roll back, and the feather light touch of one of his fingers through your folds was almost overwhelming.

“Y/N…”

His pause brought your eyes to him, and you felt your body clench with need as you watched him lick the taste of you off his finger.

“You’re so wet, so sweet... Is this all for me,” he asked softly, bringing his finger back to slide along all that wetness, finding your clit to circle gently.

His words hit you like a tease, but somehow you knew he was genuinely asking.

“Yes, Katakuri,” you managed to confess while his finger made you twitch. “You make me feel so good. I want you.”

His mouth parted as he watched you writhe for him. You fought to keep your eyes on his, wanting him to see it, to believe it. 

His jaw loosened just a bit, his eyes growing even darker as he circled that finger around your entrance. 

That finger was at least the width of two of a man your size, and it was so long. He tested you, pressing in softly, smiling at your nod before plunging it inside of you. 

Slowly thrusting, he brought his other hand to your face, rubbing his thumb along your cheek.

“I can’t believe how lucky–”

He cut himself off with a groan as you turned your head to take that large thumb into your mouth. You sucked and bit at him, swirling your tongue around his thumb as you watched those hungry eyes. 

He curled the finger inside you, hitting that sweet spot until you were moaning around his thumb.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he rasped as he drew that thumb out of your mouth, trailing spit down your chin. “I’m going to make you feel so good.”

Katakuri kept his promise, bringing that spit covered thumb to your clit. Already so close, you moaned as he teased another finger, testing, pressing gently until you nodded, now plunging two of those large fingers in to stretch you. 

“Please, please, please.” 

“Are you okay–”

“Yes, please please,” you panted as his fingers started working in you.

“Mm, does my lovely girl want to come? Do it for me, sweetheart. Come for me.”

“Katakuri!”

Your hands fisted into the blanket, back arching as you moaned, screamed for him. For your sweet, scary husband whose fingers stretched and fucked you, curling up again and again, his large thumb rubbing perfectly over and around your clit.

It felt like an explosion, your mind going blank for everything except for raging pleasure, your body thrashing on that huge bed. 

When your awareness came back, you were still twitching from aftershocks as he chuckled, smoothing those hands along your skin again.

“Kata… kuri… that felt amazing.”

“I’m so glad,” he sighed, tracing fingers through your hair. “Do you need anything?”

He helped as you struggled to sit up, your breathing still ragged as you grinned up at him. 

“I want to make you feel good, please.”

“I…”

“Can I try?”

His own breath was heavy after what he’d done to you, and that made you want to give him more. 

You chewed on your lip as he stood, removing those white pants with all their buckles and straps. 

“It’s okay, we don–”

Katakuri started to turn away when he saw your jaw drop, but you coughed, your voice coming out high and breathy.

“Will you lie down with me?”

He climbed into bed, propping up on a pile of pillows the size of couch cushions. 

“Tell me if this is alright,” you whispered as you crawled onto his chest.

Smiling at his nod, you laid against him to kiss his neck as you’d done earlier, enjoying the rush of the chills that ran over his skin. 

“I like that,” he rasped, sighing as you left a trail of kisses along the crook of his neck. You teased a small bite, waiting for his response after he twitched slightly. 

“I like that too, Y/N.”

Feeling his body react to your touch like this was delicious, growing that heat in your core, that desire for him. 

Nibbling his earlobe was a dangerous task, but worth it, as this massive warrior squirmed under your touch. 

“N-No more,” he pleaded, gently moving you away from his ear to sit on his chest.

“Did it feel good?”

“It did,” he admitted after a pause.

You answered by laying kisses and soft touches down his chest. 

He must not get a lot of touch in his lonely life, you thought as you enjoyed his reactions. 

I’m going to change that.

You worshiped his gorgeous body as he’d worshiped yours. Kissing and nibbling down his skin, you traced his muscles and tattoos with your fingers while his breathing and gentle moans were like the sweetest of songs. 

Until you worked your way down, and sat beside the gorgeous, throbbing length of him. 

The fact that he was larger than anyone you’d ever seen wasn’t a surprise. The girth alone was intense, but even though his length was intimidating, you tilted your head at it. 

Maybe it’s possible?

You realized you’d been thinking about it almost scientifically, and looked up at his face, a hint of concern on it. 

“Y/N, I don’t need or expect that, there are ple–”

“I won’t lie, Katakuri, you are very intimidating,” you teased, regretting the choice of words immediately as his face started to fall. You gripped onto his hip to bring his eyes back to you.

“But I would love to try that with you. I think we might be able to. Just maybe not tonight.”

“No,” he agreed, his face soft again as he stroked your hair. “I don’t want to hurt you. I only want you to feel good tonight.

“Well, you’re doing a great job so far,” you laughed, poking his side. 

“So are you, little wife.”

The heat in his voice, along with those words, made your skin flush all over again, somehow feeling shy after everything you’d already done.

“I like when you make this face,” he chuckled, touching your cheek. 

“Stop,” you squirmed, hiding behind your hands. 

“Please, don’t hide that pretty face from me.”

His deep voice vibrated through his body, so you could feel his request through your legs as you sat on him, making you shiver more. But you listened, looking up at your gorgeous husband. 

“Perfect,” he whispered, tracing from your temple to your jaw as your lips parted. 

“Can I,” you choked out, clearing your throat before trying again, “can I make you feel good now?”

Seeing those scarred lips curve around those sharp teeth would probably scare most, but you already loved seeing it. It sent warmth right through you before you brought your attention to that needy length of his. 

He had softened a bit as you talked, but you could see the drip of precum that had trailed down, rolling along thick veins that made you bite your lip. 

It twitched before you touched it, already getting hard as his sharp eyes watched your every move. 

Your fingers reached out to tease, just as you’d done across his body, tracing from the base to the tip, eliciting a little twitch from the crimson haired man beneath you.

Trying not to laugh, you realized you might get bucked off if Katakuri twitched too hard. 

Pushing your thoughts away, you focused on the thick flesh in front of you, and the hungry eyes devouring you. 

You had to taste him. Had to. 

With your tongue flattened against him, you licked along those gorgeous veins, licked up that trail of precum, flicking your tongue across the slit of his tip, before kissing it, tongue swirling as you met his eyes again. 

His wide mouth was open, sharp teeth parted as he breathed heavily, and you saw his large hands fisted in his sheets. 

“Does that fee–”

“Don’t stop,” he begged, his voice strained as you’d pulled your mouth away. “Fuck, Y/N, please don’t stop.”

You answered with your tongue, licking and teasing around him, bringing your hands to his throbbing cock that tasted soo good. 

One hand couldn’t fit around his girth, so you used both to slowly stroke up and down while you wrapped your lips around his tip. 

His head tilted back as he moaned, your new favorite sound.

“Just like that, so good…”

Spit dripped down his length as you gave him as much as you could. The feel of him, the sounds he made, it had your own body twisting, clenching with need. You found yourself moaning and rocking your body back and forth as you touched him. 

“Y/N, is that… Are you dripping on me?”

His husky voice made you pause, until his fingers slid between your thighs. 

“Fuuckk,” he cried out as you moaned, his fingers coming away dripping with slick. 

“You like my cock– fuck… this much, honey?”

“Yes, Katakuri,” you whined, your body feeling desperate as you kept stroking him.

“You’re doing so well, little wife. Grind that sweet pussy right here for me,” he gestured, bringing his fist up beside you. 

With shaky limbs, you sat on the back of his hand, finding the perfect friction for you to grind on while you went back to your task. 

The relief made you moan around him, and you opened wider to take as much of his thick cock into your mouth as you could handle. 

“Fuck, you’re so wet. Sweet mouth feels so good.”

Every delicious word of praise that dripped from those lips was like fuel to the fire in your blood. You rocked against his hand, drenching his skin as your clit got that perfect pressure.

Your eyes rolled back as you felt that thick cock starting to twitch. 

“Wait,” he choked out, his free hand moving to pull himself out of your mouth. 

But you whined, clinging to his cock as you hit your orgasm, grinding on his skin as he started to moan your name. 

The feeling of those veins throbbing and pulsing was incredible. He came spilling into your mouth as your lips were wrapped around his tip. You tried to swallow it all, but it was so much. 

You let it spill down the sides, using it to slide your hands along him a few more times as he let out deep, glorious moans. 

Out of breath, both of you twitched and gasped until you could speak again. 

“You made a mess,” you teased, gesturing to his come as it dripped from your chin to your stomach. 

He let out a surprised laugh, and you gasped as he pulled his hand out from under you. 

“So did you,” he rasped, making your eyes roll back as he licked your wetness off of the back of his hand. 

“How do you feel?”

His gentle words seemed so much more open, less full of worry, and you loved it. 

“I feel amazing, husband.”

“Mm, so do I, little wife.”

You scrunched your nose at the pet name, feeling like you should argue. But you liked it. 

I like him. 

You smiled to yourself as you watched him leave, going to clean up. 

“What’s wrong,” he asked as he returned, that worry back in his voice as he handed you a damp towel. 

“Hm? Oh, I’m sorry!”

Tears had pooled in the corners of your eyes, and you wiped them away with a laugh.

“I’m just happy, Katakuri. It’s crazy how this all happened. But I’m really happy to be here with you now.”

This sweet man’s face softened, making you believe your own words even more. You cleaned yourself off, and let him lift you up as he crawled into bed. 

Katakuri laid on his back for you. He let you lie on his chest, the deep rhythm of his heart pulsing through you, sending your relaxed body to sleep. 

But not before his gentle fingers stroked your hair, trailing down your back as you melted, the memory of your dad’s voice coming to wish you goodnight.

‘Don’t fight miracles, sweetheart. Sometimes good people really do get good things.’

You were right, dad. I won’t be alone anymore.

Katakuri’s deep voice rolled over you, proving it.

“I’m happy too, Y/N. I’m happy you’re my family now.”

You drifted off with his warm skin on yours, and had the sweetest dreams you’d ever had. 

Likes and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you so much!

a/n: Thank you for joining me on this super fluffy adventure! It's definitely the sweetest thing I've ever written, and I hope you you enjoyed it! 🍩💖

Tag List: @shewrites02 | @jadeddangel

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[megamindsecretlair]

I'll Be Seeing You

Pairing: Jack Reacher x Black!Fem!reader/plus size reader

Warnings: 18+ only. MINORS DNI. You are in charge of your own reading experience. PIV, Cursing, SMUT, ANGST, fingering (fem receiving), nipple play, Sorry if I missed others. No spoilers for the show.

Summary: When Reacher reached your town, he was lucky enough to meet you the first day. You made him feel things he’d never felt before. And though there was the sad tug of goodbye in every interaction, he couldn’t help but stay one more night.

AO3 Link

Word count: 2,253k

A/N: Ask and ye shall receive, @kiwi-jelly-mochi! LOL. I rewatched Reacher tonight. Need that man badly! This is what my brain considers a drabble. Enjoy! Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, reblog, or unhinged ask.

Reacher had a lot of adjusting to do when it came to you. He was a man that prided himself on being as free as possible, never sticking anywhere for too long. He didn’t stay in the same place twice. There was too much world to see and his boots were made for walking. 

However, when he blew through your hometown, he saw you sitting outside of a local coffee cafe, nose deep in a book and sipping on hot coffee. A glance was all it took for him to know that he had to meet you. Talk to you. 

It took some convincing. You kept saying you didn’t usually go for “white guys”. Like you were trying to convince yourself not to say yes to him. That only made him try harder. Stick around the town longer than usual, actually finding the place relaxing for once. 

No matter where he went, trouble always seemed to follow. Not here. Not with you. It was like you cast some type of spell over the town, warding it from any evil intent swinging through. If he believed in such things, he’d firmly believe you cast a spell on him. 

It could explain how his chest grew tight whenever you looked at him. Or when you smiled at something small like when flower petals landed on your hand or when you heard children laughing. You were so sweet all the time. So full of love and optimism besides all the horrors in the world. 

He strangely found that he didn’t mind it. He wanted to soak up more of it. Be around it. Around you. Interested in the way you make him feel. Stirring up feelings he wasn’t sure how to interpret. 

His favorite thing so far was when you called him your robot. He knew he wasn’t the most expressive, the most welcoming. He’d been called everything under the sun by men twice your height and weight, upset that someone treated them like an adult for once. 

He would be lying if he didn’t like your attempts to make him smile naturally. Doing funny impressions, making funny faces at him, bumping your shoulder with his. He played along, doubling down on being a robot but that was okay.

He liked that you were the beauty to his brute. You made him feel like Fred Flinstone whenever you blinked those cute eyes at him. You let him turn his brain off, live in the moment. 

Speaking of, you were sitting on your couch, drinking your favorite drink and listening to old vinyl records your grandmother left you. You weren’t really into the music, but listening to it made you feel closer to her. Mourn the relationship you never had. Okay, so maybe he couldn’t always turn it off.

In his mind, details mattered. He wanted to bask in all of your details. The moles, the scars, the lines in the palm of your hand. You’ve lived and that made you the most interesting thing in the world to him.

Cool jazz music played, Billie’s voice crooning, and you lightly bobbed your head, looking at him. He smiled at you, loving the soft way your eyes crinkled. You took another sip and tilted your head at him. “What you thinkin’ about Mr. Robot?” You asked. You reached out and tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“You,” he said, seeing no reason to be coy. 

“What about me?” You asked.

“How pretty you’d look in my lap,” he said. 

You giggled and shook your head. But you placed your drink down on the coffee table and scooted closer. “You’re gonna make it hard when you finally say goodbye,” you said, your voice wobbling. You kept on a brave face, smiling despite it all.

He told you that he wasn’t the sticking around type. The more he stayed here, the more he gained familiar haunts with you day by day, he wasn’t so sure that was true anymore. Wanderlust was his first love. Needing to roam thanks to his military background. Never putting down roots. Never staying in any one place long enough to make connections. Just a mean right hook and an itch whenever he saw injustice. 

Yet, whenever he thought of leaving, his chest would seize and he’d have to sit there and breathe through the panic. He knew he was in too deep already, but he needed one more night. One more day to wrap himself inside you and pretend to live there. Pretend to claim you. Pretend that you’ll always remember him when you’ve found the love of your life and forgot all about him. 

Just one more. That was all he needed. Then he’d be strong enough. Then he’d be the only one strong enough to leave you.

For now, he pulled you by the hand to come sit in his lap. You giggled, scrambling across the lush blue cushions to climb into his lap. He also loved it when you got excited. The way you lived out loud, expressed emotions clearly and vividly. So much so, even a brute like him could pick up on it. Become infected by it. Feel it latch onto his bloodstream and never let up. 

He pushed your black flowered dress up your thighs as you settled into his lap. He grabbed two big handfuls of your ass, squeezing it hard just like you needed it. You growled, rolling against his crotch like a needy slut. 

You weren’t wearing panties and he chuckled as he gripped your ass, giving it a light smack. “No panties this time?” He asked. 

“They just get in the way. Someone has a penchant for ripping them,” you said, pointedly looking at him. You leaned down, pressing your lips to his. He hummed, licked his lips, and leaned in for another kiss. You indulged him, bringing your hands to cup his strong square jaw and scratch at his stubble. 

“You’re right, they’re in the way,” he said, grinning naturally, just for you. Your eyes lit up and you squirmed in his lap.

His dick was throbbing with your movements. With the subtle friction from your breasts pushed into his chest. He squeezed your ass again, giving it another smack. He began to kiss your neck, licking the pulse in your neck and causing you to purr. You melted in his hands, falling against him as he moved further down.

He used his teeth to pull down the cups of your dress, freeing your breasts and humming in satisfaction. Fuck, he loved your breasts. Loved how they were the perfect shape and size. He leaned down, needing to feel your soft flesh in his mouth.

He latched onto a nipple, sucking hard. You squealed, hitting his shoulder. He chuckled, sucking harder. He tortured the little nub, feeling it peak beneath his tongue. 

“Oh, fuck, Reacher, I could write entire books about this mouth,” you moaned, throwing your head back. You poked your chest out, giving him full and complete access. Just as he liked. 

“Please do, I’d love to read it,” he whispered against your titty. You chuckled, bouncing in his lap and rubbing against his dick. He felt lightning strikes straight to his balls, getting heavier with a thick load just for you. 

He let go of your titty with a wet pop, leaning back far enough to admire his handy work. Satisfied, he moved on to the other, suckling it and moaning as you rubbed in just the right place. Just enough for him to buck his hips. 

“I need you, Reacher,” you whispered into his hair, kissing his head. 

“I got you,” he said. For now. For this moment. For this brief interlude in between towns when he discovered all there was and planned to move on to the next. The next people. He wouldn’t find another you, however. 

He picked you up effortlessly, scooting you back on his thighs so that he could free himself. He groaned as his dick was released from his jeans, pressure finally eased. You leaned over to the end table, grabbing a discreet foil package.

He’d been here an entire week and he’d fucked you every single day. Never without a condom. He wished to feel you completely. To soak his dick with your slick. Your essence. The very heart of you. He wanted it. And that was exactly why he couldn’t. 

If you were an old blues record, you were one of the rare, more optimistic ones. The ones that hurt his heart and made him think at the same time. You sounded like forever in every ring around the record, the delicate scratch of the needle. You needed someone to handle you with care. With love. To play you every Sunday right as the sun went down, fresh glass of lemonade beside. To protect, to hold. 

And that was why he never forgot the condom. Neither did you. You handed it to him and he opened it, rolling it on, and he used his fingers to gauge how wet you were. 

Fuck, you were dripping. He groaned and went back to kissing your chest. Working his way up to your jaw, to the corners of your mouth, kissing you fully on the lips. Heat washed over him, a burning fire under his ass to get inside you as quickly as possible.

He played with your clit as he lined himself up, sinking you down on his dick. “Unf, fuck,” he moaned. You didn’t even grimace or cry out that time. A week was all it took for you to get acclimated to his size. 

“You’re killing me,” he said.

You giggled, pressing kisses into his face. He fucking loved it. Your hands went around his neck, starting to lift up and down onto his dick. 

Your breathing was shaky but you persisted, lifting all the way off of him and then sinking right back down. You groaned as he seemed to hit some kind of spot inside of you, rubbing his thick mushroom head along your inner walls.

“Shit, fuck me, Reacher. Fuck me, please,” you begged.

Reacher hooked his hands under your thighs and sped up, fucking you onto his dick with a little more speed. You cried, soaking his dick. He could feel it, but he couldn’t really feel it.

“Oh shit, right there. Right there, Reacher, right there,” you whimpered.

He listened. He kept the same pace, the same thrust, spearing you on his massive dick. “Let me hear you,” he said.

You cried harder, whimpered longer, moaned in a tinny voice that sent more lightning strikes to his dick. He seemed to swell just hearing how needy you were. Felt how wet you were for him. He pretended that it was only for him. That you would only ever get this wet for him. To bless him with this side of you. This unregulated, wholesome, completely authentic part of you. 

“Louder, louder,” he said, panting, thrusting up to meet you bouncing on his dick. You felt amazing. Perfect. So perfect.

Your cries got louder, moaning battling the music still crooning in the late afternoon. Your living room was small but it suited you. Everything about the space was warm and comforting. Even the couch. He sank pleasantly into it, firm enough to meet your sopping wet pussy.

Your titties bounced in his face. He watched your pert brown nipples dangling like sweet berries in front of his face. He resisted the urge to suck on them again, instead looking up at you.

Your mouth was open, tongue peeking out. Your eyes were low, spaced out, and the most beautiful sight of all. Better than any piece of artwork. Any genius masterpiece. Your nails dug into his shoulders. He barely felt it.

He wasn’t arrogant enough to not feel pain, but he was a big guy. He could take a punch and he could certainly take the way you gripped onto him for dear life. “Oh, Reacher, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum,” you moaned, diving down for a kiss. 

“Let me feel it,” he said, looking into your eyes. 

You tightened your hold, gritted your teeth before your jaw went slack and you shook on his dick. He kept bouncing you, felt how your pussy tightened and pulsed on his dick. He moaned, wanting to keep looking at you but also wanting to let the sensation take over. 

Sensation won out as he dropped his head back against the couch cushion, smacking your ass as you moaned from your orgasm. He was close. Now that you came, he could take it a step further. Slide in deeper. Bounce you quicker. 

His balls tightened as he finally climaxed, hot sperm shooting into the condom. He moaned, grabbing onto your ass for an anchor point. He grunted as he finished, looking down at where you were connected.

Your skin was slick with sweat, chest heaving with breaths. He grinned at you, couldn’t help wanting to make you smile. He was going to hate himself when he had to make you sad.

“I think I’m gonna stay one more night,” he said, bringing you into a kiss. He licked your lips and you gasped and he slipped his tongue inside, needing to taste more. Do more. 

“Okay, but only one more,” you said, against his lips. You got an evil glint in your eye and he wondered if you weren’t up to something devious tonight. He couldn’t wait to find out.

There will be more! The Secret Jack Reacher Files

Taglist: @planetblaque @chaos-4baby @00aijia00 @amethyst09 @ciaqui

@we-outsiiiide @browngirldominion @iv0rysoap @thecookiebratz @harmshake

@judymfmoody @multiversefanfics @tvchi @kiwi-jelly-mochi

[flametrashiraarchive]

Thinking about Gyomei who returns from a long string of missions to find his s/o laying down, staring at nothing. Eyes empty, voice apathetic, like a cup with a hole at the bottom, drained of life.

Gyomei's big frame craddling his s/o, rocking back and forth in comfort, trying to breathe more life into his s/o's depressed form, trying to return the warmth stolen by their mind.

Gyomei ready to give up, when his s/o starts to respond to his touch finally...

... after all his cuddles are the best.

- Beer anon 🍻

Who has two thumbs and gets carried away writing about sad boys 👍😎👍

Thank you for this ask. I loved writing about Gyomei and I hope I did him well!

NSFW and unbearable cuteness beneath the cut.

Softer than Mochi- Gyomei x Reader

Gyomei's chin was tilted down as he listened to you. Ordinarily, your voice brought him familiar comfort, but lately he had noticed the sound of it, along with the scent of your skin, was eliciting a new sort of reaction.

It was both unbearably exciting and incredibly uncomfortable.

"Please continue." He shifted his weight as he sat cross-legged on the rocks. His cheeks were getting warm as you told him about your latest mission. "You pursued the demon through the forest?"

You continued speaking, seemingly unaware of his predicament. "Yes. So anyway, the demon almost got away, but I took it down and managed to save the woman it was trying to snatch away. It won't bother anyone again."

"Ah… good. You did well. I'm proud."

There was a slight shift in the air which told him you'd taken a step forward. His heart quickened. 

"Thank you," you said. "I couldn't have done it without your training."

Instinctively, Gyomei opened his arms to accept your embrace. You hugged him often, and he enjoyed it every time.

You were so soft and precious to him. Most people felt small to Gyomei– even Tengen Uzui who stood six and a half feet tall and had muscles on muscles felt like a willow branch sometimes.

The stone hashira wrapped you in his arms, breathing in your warm and lovely scent.

"My sweet friend," he whispered as you buried your face against his neck, making his stomach flutter. "Your capabilities come from your strength and determination, not from me. I taught you ways to use your tools, but you were the one who built and refined them. And you have already been given your next mission?"

"Yes." Your voice was filled with a conflicting mix of  weariness and determination. The lower ranked slayers such as yourself were always busy taking down weaker demons, while hashira were assigned to the less frequent but more difficult missions. "I have to leave here in an hour in fact. I have a train to catch."

An hour was too little time to spend together, but Gyomei would cherish every moment. "I smell matcha… what is that?"

"I brought you some mochi," you said, placing a paper packet in his large hands.

Gyomei smiled and carefully unwrapped the packet, touching his fingers to the squishy little cakes. They were round, perfectly smooth, and as soft as your cheeks, but each one had two little pointed bumps on top… they felt like ears.

The stone hashira's smile widened. "Are they cat-shaped?"

Your excited laughter was heartwarming music to him. "Yes!"

His chest filled with adoration. "They're almost too cute to eat. Thank you, my dearest friend." 

You sat beside him on the rocks, listening to the roaring waterfall and the babbling song of the river. Your hand rested in his, so small and delicate but somehow so warm and profound. 

"Please be safe on your mission," Gyomei said. "And inform me when you get back."

His heart leapt as you leaned against him, resting your head on his bicep. "I will. I'll come and find you before I do anything else. You be safe too, Gyo."

When you stood, his heart lamented. The air shifted again and he opened his arms to embrace you, but this time you pressed your lips softly to his cheek, your hands resting on his shoulders.

The tingle of your kiss lingered on his skin long after you left for your mission. Gyomei remained seated where you left him, smiling as he thought of you and ate the mochi you so sweetly made for him. The world, for a little while, was very beautiful. 

Gyomei had faced countless demons, he had suffered every brutality, but your gentle kiss hit him harder than anything he had ever known before. Your lips were so soft he could have wept.

***

Five days passed before he heard whispers of your return but you did not come to see him as promised. 

That was unlike you and it filled Gyomei with concern. He walked the familiar path to your home, trying to calm his mind. There could be a number of explanations; maybe you were asleep, maybe you had been summoned elsewhere… maybe you had only said you would come to see him first to humor him.

He reached your front door and raised his hand to knock, but found only empty space in front of his knuckles. He called out your name and heard only silence. His heart plummeted. 

Your door was open and you were not responding. He immediately suspected the worst. But there was no trace of a demon, no sickly scent of death or injury. 

"I'm coming in," he said, so as not to scare you.

Your house was silent, and the air had a strange sort of quality. In the past, your home had been a place of comfort for him, but now when he stepped across the threshold he felt a sorrowful weight in his heart.

"Are you here?" He tried to conceal the worry, but it came out anyway. "My friend, speak to me… please."

"Gyo…" 

At the sound of your voice his heart leapt. He turned toward the sound and took a step forward. 

"Are you hurt?" He asked. 

"No… I'm sorry I scared you."

You were on the floor. 

He crouched close to you, reaching out a hand toward you. "My friend, what has happened? I can hear the pain in your voice."

A heavy silence sat between you. Oh, his heart was aching and he couldn't fathom why. Your voice sounded so empty, so utterly broken. You were sitting on a futon in the center of the room; still and quiet and emanating sorrow. He couldn't hold back from reaching out further and placing his hand upon you. His fingers brushed your forearm and traveled down until he found your hand and held it in his. Somehow you felt smaller… hollow…

He didn't press the issue. You would tell him in your own time. He simply sat with you and held your hand. Gyomei was patient.

After a while you moved. He heard your clothes shuffle, felt the air waft against him as you moved your body.

His heart squeezed as you rested your forehead on his shoulder, and he couldn't refrain from holding you. He wrapped you up in his arms, easing you down to sit in his lap as he surrounded you in his embrace.

You fit so perfectly against him; so small and sacred. He held you with endless love and affection, cradling you in his arms as he rested his chin on top of your head. Something had bruised your sweet spirit, and he would hold you for eternity if he thought it could help you heal.

Finally, you spoke. "I failed, Gyomei. The demon's victims begged me to help and I failed. I couldn't save them."

It was a pain he knew too well, and a pain you would have to make space for in your heart because it would never truly go away.

"I'm sorry. That is never easy."

You pressed yourself closer to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Please forgive me."

"Oh, little one." His chest ached. He was so bound to your shattering heart that the splinters of it pierced through his own. "How I wish I could take away your pain." 

You trembled as silent sobs wracked your body and Gyomei rocked with you. You mourned the lives you hardly knew and he held you through it as though he could shield you from the rest of the world until the grief was gone. 

"I'm so sorry," you whispered, still weeping.

"You are forgiven, my dearest friend." He knew the apology wasn't truly meant for him, but he also knew you needed a seed of forgiveness to allow solace to take root and start to grow.

You cried your tears until you had nothing left. Finally, you grew still and the tension in your body waned.

"You have such a beautiful soul." He unwound one of his arms from around you and wiped away your tears with his thumb. He smiled, "And the softest cheeks."

You laughed quietly and it mended your hearts a little. "Thank you."

"Please do not be sad anymore. Take this pain and use it to help more people."

"Gyomei…" His name was music when it came from your lips. "You're so dear to me. This mission helped me realize I should make sure you know that."

"You are to me too. You're precious."

The gentle touch of your fingers on his jaw made his heart flutter. You traced the shape of his face as he had done to you so many times before.

His pulse raced. The air between you crackled with something unspoken. Your breaths were shallow and shivering as they blew across his lips. Heat prickled on his cheeks and along the column of his neck as he continued to hold you, dipping his chin to he nearer to you. He was inexperienced but not completely naive. Even if he couldn’t quite believe it was happening, he knew you were thinking about kissing him.

He wanted it too. 

“I adore you," he managed to whisper.

"I adore you too."

His heart pounded as you traced the outline of his lips with your fingertips. It was the most intimate sensation he had ever felt. Each breath he drew took a tremendous effort and barely reached the top of his lungs. This was unlike him; Gyomei was in tune with every muscle in his body, and yet your tender touch weakened him more than he thought possible.

He released you from his embrace and raised his hands to your face, finding his bearings before he leaned down and closed the distance, kissing you with infinite tenderness.

The moment his lips met yours, you responded, melting against him and kissing him back; so soft and warm it made his entire body ache. His heart was full to bursting as his thoughts tumbled like a landslide. Your lips were even softer than your cheeks, softer than mochi, warmer than sunlight. 

The kiss seemed to breathe life back into you, and almost at once there was a new passion and hunger which he had sometimes dreamed of experiencing. But never once did he actually believe he could share it with you. You stole his breath away.

When the kiss broke, you showered his face in smaller, more chaste, but no less lovely kisses. Gyomei felt himself smile as his hands trailed down your back.

"Tell me, cherished one," he said quietly, "just so I don't run away with myself. Is this simply to feel good and numb your pain, or is this truly how you feel?"

Thank the gods that the silence afterward was only momentary. His heart couldn't stand it.

"It's how I feel," you responded, caressing the sides of his face with both hands and giving him goosebumps. "Gyo… this is why I come to you after every mission to embrace you and hold your hands. This is why I make cat-shaped mochi for you. I thought you knew I love you."

His heart was about to burst from his chest and his smile could not be contained. "Ah… yes, now that I consider it, it seems obvious."

You laughed. "My sweet Gyo."

You kissed him again. Though it had only been moments since the last one, relief coursed through him as he drew from that sweet warmth and softness. 

"My most beloved, I am yours."

Your hands explored his shape, traversing the neckline of his shirt to the very top of his chest. While not vain, Gyomei was proud of his strength and the muscles he worked so hard to hone. Your quiet hum of approval sounded against his lips as your fingers touched his pectorals. It filled him with pride.

A breathless, tingling sensation coursed through his body as your touches grew bolder and your kisses increased in intensity. The sensation of your hands brushing his bare skin caused a sensation not unlike you were tugging a chord connected to his core.

"Am I moving too fast?" You asked, still resting your forehead against his as though it was as painful for you to be apart as it was for him. 

"Not at all. Continue, please." Heat pickled across his cheeks, far more intense than any sunbeam. 

"You're blushing," you whispered before taking his hand and leading it toward your face, brushing your cheeks with the back of his fingers. "I'm blushing too."

He smiled. "I feel it. You're so warm."

Your cheeks grew plump beneath his fingers as you smiled, and then your hand left his. He heard the soft rustle of fabric, the quickening of your breath, and then you took his hand and led it down to your bare chest.

"Oh…" he choked out.

Nothing in the world could compare to the smooth warmth of your body beneath his large, battle-hewn hands. You were silk to him, lotus petals, mochi, the gentle flow of a sun-warmed stream. His chest ached. Your beauty was overwhelming.

The way you bowed to his tender caresses pulled once more at that chord. When he brushed his thumb over the hardening bud of your nipple and elicited a soft sigh of pleasure from you, the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.

Tingling excitement rolled through his lower belly as your hands went to the fastening of his trousers. Gods, he wanted this, he did… but as inexperienced as he was, there were certain facts he was very aware of. 

“We must be patient,” he said. “I need to ensure you are ready.”

“Believe me, Gyo, I’m ready.” You kissed him again with renewed passion, running your fingers through his hair and sending more little shocks of pleasure through him. 

Gyomei smiled as you pulled back from the kiss, placing his hands over yours to halt your progress. “You’re not ready enough.”

“What do… oh… OH.” You had no doubt noticed the bulge forming in his trousers. “I see. You’re–”

“Large.” He pulled in a breath. “I’m very large. And I don't want to hurt you." Slipping his hand over the curve of your waist, he pressed a kiss to the plush softness of your chest. "If you wish to continue then I ask that you permit me to prepare your body to…receive me."

"I want to continue." You kissed him again, your tongue entering his mouth and slowly teasing his; pulling a gravelly moan from his lips. When you withdrew, you stood and he heard the soft rustle of cloth once more as you removed the rest of your clothing. You took his hands and led them to your bare thighs. "Please touch me."

His pulse thundered as he skated his hands along the curves of your body, committing every soft hill and luxurious valley of your shape to memory. Every touch was an act of profound worship, and every sweet sound of pleasure which came from you was an answer to a prayer.

"Beloved, lie down for me," he said softly. "I want you to be comfortable."

You did as he asked, lying back on your futon.

Just knowing that you were before him, laid out and feeling as nervous and as excited as he was, made his heart flutter. He undressed fully before he let his hands stroke the lengths of your thighs, down to your center where the heat radiated from you in intoxicating waves.

"Please tell me if I'm doing well or not," he asked. His voice was quiet and shaking a little with trepidation. "I've never… well, I've received a little bit of instruction on how to do these things but never put them into practice. So please…"

"I will." You placed your hand on his and with gentle pressure, urged him to touch you. 

Your tender flesh was like nothing he had ever felt before. His breath caught in his throat as his fingers mapped out the shape. You were so warm and wet, and the scent of you was truly intoxicating. You made such lovely sounds of pleasure as he slid his fingers through your folds, coating them in your essence. He traced their shape upward, to where they converged over your delicate, swollen bud.

"There," you gasped as he circled his fingers around it. "That's…"

"Your clitoris," he said with a smile. "I know… I told you, I've had instruction."

At the time he had thought Uzui's lessons were wasted on him, but he had committed the information to memory nonetheless. Now, as your hips bucked and your thighs trembled from the gentlest touches, he had every intention of thanking Uzui from the bottom of his heart.

"Gyo-mei~" you gasped as he stroked your clit with his thumb and pushed a thick finger into you. Oh, gods, the heat, the silken flesh, the slick coating of your nectar, like sun-ripened fruit. He wanted so badly to sink into you and feel his body connected to yours. But he would be patient. He would ensure you were completely ready before he satiated his needs. 

A wave of heat washed over him as you bore down on his finger, eager and demanding even without words.

"Is it good?"

"So… good…"

"Do you want more, my beloved?"

"Yes…" your breaths came in short gasps. "More."

He pushed a second finger into you, pausing as you cried out, allowing your body to accommodate them. His fingers, like everything else about him, were large.

He waited until you began to thrust onto them again and took that as a sign that you were ready.

Gently, he began to move his fingers, pumping them into you slowly as his thumb continued to rub your clitoris. His heart quickened as he felt your inner muscles begin to contract and spasm. 

"Don't stop," you whispered, your voice breathless and urgent.

"I won't."

You came apart seconds later, gasping and shuddering as those muscles pulsed around his fingers. You squeezed them so beautifully, and imagining that sensation on his cock was enough to make him lightheaded.

But he still had work to do. "Can you take more?"

You placed your hand on his thigh. "Yes."

A blissful cry emerged from you as he added a third finger, gently stretching you. 

"Gods, Gyomei~"

"Breathe, beloved. Breathe and relax. I will stop if you wish me too."

"Never."

He chuckled before spreading his fingers slightly, opening you up and readying you. "If I could only express the true depth of my feelings for you." He bowed his head, kissing your stomach with slow, lingering kisses as he continued to pump his fingers into you. 

You were so receptive to his touches, moaning softly as you placed your hand on his wrist, as if to hold it down between your thighs. It was a reassuring gesture that he was pleasing you. That's all he truly desired.

He felt your muscles quiver again and you cried out his name. His cock stood firm, aching with need as your pussy squeezed around his fingers.

"I think you are ready." He spoke softly, kneeling back a little. "If you still–"

"I do. Gyomei… I absolutely do."

You got up and sat astride his thighs as he knelt on the bottom of the futon. This was good. It was exactly what he wanted. He needed you to be in control now, setting the depth and intensity. 

Your lips brushed against his as you cupped his face. The bare skin of your torso was so soft and delicate against his large frame. He wound his arms around you and met your kiss, slow and passionate and filled with love. 

Shifting in his lap, you positioned yourself so the head of his cock was pressed against your entrance. He felt a brief stab of worry that he hadn't prepared you well enough, that he had been too hasty and would hurt you, but a moment later you took him with nothing more than a breathy moan. 

"Gyomei… Gods you feel incredible."

Oh there was nothing that could describe that feeling of sinking into you. A needy groan escaped him as he pressed his head to your shoulder and breathed in the scent of you, trying to ground himself. He was lost in the sensation.

"I love you," you whispered, kissing his lips so gently it seemed you felt he was fragile and precious. 

"I love you too, my everything."

He had never felt so connected to anyone. Mind, body, soul, he was yours. He groaned in pleasure as you undulated your hips, taking him deeper inch by inch, stopping to give you both time to adjust and bask in the sensation.

"Does it hurt, my love?" he asked, unable to shake the tinge of concern from his mind or his voice. 

"No. No, we fit together perfectly." You kissed his neck, sending a frisson of pleasure traveling down his body where it pooled in the bottom of his belly. 

People often spoke of the beauty of stars; pinpricks of light shimmering among velvet darkness, and he felt he understood that with you. He felt them. Shimmering sparks which danced across skin, overwhelming him in the best possible way.

Pressure built at his core as you rode him, your hands resting on his shoulders, your soft body moving against his. You were taking him well, better than he had ever dared to hope you could.

The slow rhythm of your movements, the constant pleasure, the intimacy… It was too much. He grit his teeth and choked out a cry.

"Beloved… I'm…"

"Let it happen, Gyo. You've more than satisfied me. Let go…"

You kept on moving to that slow, loving rhythm, building the exquisite pressure which ran through his core, growing and growing until he was barely clinging to his senses.

His fingers gripped your hips with more strength than he ever meant to use with you, holding you to him as his pleasure reached an almost unbearable peak. 

"Ohh, beloved… perfect… so~ ohhh…so perfect." 

He filled you entirely, lowering his head to press his cheek to yours as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and clung to you. 

"I have you," you whispered as you held him, stroking his back as he trembled in your arms.

He knew he could be like this with you for as long as he needed to be. As wave after wave of pleasure rocked through his body, he sank down into your arms, pressing you back until you were lying on the futon and he reclined on his hip beside you, nestling his head against your chest.

Your heart thudded against his ear, beating to a rhythm you had set together. 

His lips curved as you stroked your fingers through his hair, kissing the top of his head and sighing in contentment.

And the world was forever beautiful. 

In that moment, and in every moment he shared with you, the stone hashira's heart was softer than mochi.

[froggibus]

hello hello! froggi i have something rotting my brain and i would love to hear your thoughts on it, but by no means is this something you have to answer!

how do you think gojo satoru and nanami kento (and anyone else you'd like to include!) would feel about having someone pack lunches for them? like real, thought out, balanced lunches in nice containers and thermoses with little drinks and maybe notes

i can already see the confused first years, yuji and nobara gossiping about whether they're dating someone and megumi being weirded out gojo isnt just buying something like the rich boy he is

Sack Lunch - Satoru Gojo, Nanami Kento & Suguru Geto

Pairing(s): Satoru Gojo x gn! reader, Nanami Kento x gn! reader, Suguru Geto x gn! reader

Genre: fluff!

Word Count: 667 (Gojo's), 685 (Nanami's), 680 (Suguru's)

Summary: a day in your s/o's life when you pack a lunch for him

CW: established relationships!, jokes about dying/being widowed (Gojo's--though they are not necessarily married), lots of cutesy stuff, Gojo acts like a child

anon you are the first person ever to call me froggi (and i kinda love it omg)!! i have not answered a request/ask in a hot minute, but this one was too cute to pass up! not sure if you wanted headcanons for this or not, but i got really carried away :') hope this is what you wanted! also i really feel strongly about Gojo having a 90s lunchbox collection that he is very proud of! - also!! the Valentine's Poll is open if you guys have any ideas of what you want for our Valentine's event this year!! you can vote here - also thank you @l0serloki for helping me with writing nanami!!

Satoru Gojo:

“Satoru!” You shake your head at the man as he slinks past the kitchen.

He pops his head in, white hair falling over his eyes. “Yes?”

“Don’t forget your lunch.”

“You made me lunch?” He coos, surging forward to pinch your cheek, “you’re so cute.”

You roll your eyes. “No one should spend as much money on food as you do.” You chastise. “And I want to make sure you don’t only eat sweets today. I can’t have you dying on me at 30.”

“Pft, I’m gonna live forever!”

You shove the metallic Sailor Moon lunchbox into his hands. “Keep eating what I make you and you just might.”

“Aw, baby,” he practically sings, “look at you, trying to take care of me.”

He playfully ruffles your hair, but upon seeing your scowl, drags his hand down to your waist. He leans in and presses a sloppy, needy kiss to your lips. You stand on your toes just to kiss him back, rubbing your hands up and down his back.

He pulls away blushing, lunchbox in hand. “I’ll see you later! Love you lots!”

You wave to him as he heads out the door, “love you too!”

Even when he gets out to his car, the grin on his face doesn’t fade. He might have teased you a little, but only because he was so honoured that you even thought to pack him a lunch. The cute Sailor Moon lunch box that totally isn’t his is only the icing on the cake.

—

Nobara and Yuji stare at Gojo in disbelief. The man has his feet propped up on his desk, whistling a song as he peels a mandarin. A mandarin. The sight of their teacher eating an actual, real fruit is jarring. 

Yuji elbows Nobara gently, “has Gojo-sensei finally lost it?”

“He must have, have you ever seen him eat real food before?”

Gojo rolls his eyes behind his blindfold, popping a slice of the orange into his mouth. He listens to his first years gossip about him as he makes his way through the lunch you packed. You really outdid yourself with this one, he has to admit.

It’s all of the foods he likes, cutely displayed in pink containers that match the glittery exterior of the lunch box. You even packed him strawberry mochi, homemade and neatly bundled. There’s a note in there, too.

Please eat all your fruits and veggies, I don’t want to be a widow. 

Lots of love!

Y/n

Gojo stifles his laughter at your note, but he can’t stop the flush that creeps up to his blindfold. Not only did you pack him a lunch, you wrote him a note. He can’t wait to come home to you and tell you how much he loves you.

It’s when Gojo gets up to use the bathroom that Yuji makes a mad dash to peek in his lunch box. “Sailor Moon?!”

Nobara leaps to her feet, joining Itadori at the desk. “There’s a note, look.”

Fushiguro sits at his desk, softly chewing on the sandwich that you also made for him this morning. He shakes his head at his nosy peers, wondering why they care so much about their ridiculous teacher’s life.

“From y/n?!” They cry out in unison.

“Did he steal this from someone?!” Nobara exclaims.

“Did he do something to y/n’s boyfriend?!”

The pair share their conspiracies on just how Gojo ended up with a homemade lunch and a handwritten note from you, oblivious to the way Megumi snickers at them in the back. 

Finally, he can’t take it anymore. “They’re together.”

Their eyes practically pop out. “They are?!”

“Yep,” Gojo leans against the door to the classroom, smirking at his students.

“And it’s…like that?” Yuji asks quietly.

“It’s like that.” Gojo raises his eyebrows for emphasis.

All three First Years cringe, groans filling the room. Gojo smiles proudly though, already figuring out how he’s going to tell this story to you when he comes home to you.

-

Kento Nanami:

Nanami’s cheeks tinge pink as he makes his way to the door and sees you standing there. There’s a massive grin on your face and you’re holding a grey lunchbox in one hand and a coffee thermos in the other. Despite this being an everyday occurance, Nanami still isn’t used to it.

“I packed your lunch.”

He leans in and presses a soft kiss to your lips, grabbing the items from your hands. He sets them on the small table just next to the door to free up his hands before immediately wrapping them around your waist. He caresses your sides gently, almost as gently as he kisses you—trying to show all his gratitude and love for you with a single gesture. 

You’re flustered when he pulls away, straightening out your clothes while you find your breath once more. You watch Nanami as he grabs his lunch and coffee from the table and pulls his keys out of his pocket, clicking open the lock on the front door.

“Oh!” You call to him just before he steps out. “There’s some extra snacks in there, just in case Yuji wants them!”

His dark eyes fill with admiration, his face falling into that soft look he saves for those closest to him. “You really are the greatest.”

You giggle, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he says. “Have a great day today, dear.”

“I will!” You wave at him from the door as he walks to his car. “Oh! And please don’t forget the cutlery at work again!”

“Will do!” His words are punctuated by the closing of his car door followed by the roar of the engine.

You shut the door but the grin doesn’t fall from your face. These mornings are always a highlight for you.

—

Nanami is exhausted by the time he makes it to his lunch hour. Him and Yuji had been running around all afternoon chasing some low grade curse. The second his watch beeped to indicate lunch time, Nanami was already headed to the crosswalk to head to the park across the street, Itadori in tow.

It’s a beautiful day out, the warm sun heating the wood of the park bench just enough to keep it comfortable. He has his most recent novel open on his lap, his lunchbox on the seat next to him. Yuji sits on the other side of his lunch, happily snacking on the extra things you packed for him.

“Y/n really is the best, Nanamin.” He says through a mouthful of food, “packing you all these snacks and keeping you healthy.”

Nanami offers the boy a half grin, though he’s tempted to remind him of his table manners and how rude it is to talk with food in his mouth. He takes a sip of the coffee in his thermos—still warm from this morning—and relaxes farther into the bench. You always make it just the way he likes it, no sugar and hardly any cream. 

He reaches a hand into his lunchbox to grab the small container of carrot slices when his fingers graze something else. He closes his novel and leans over to examine the paper he’s just grabbed.

Hope you’re having a great lunch today, honey. Made with love

To the moon and back,

Y/n

He tries to hide his widening grin and reddening cheeks by pretending to cough into his arm, but only succeeds in drawing more attention to his flustered state. 

“Are you okay?”

Nanami nods, catching his breath from his fake cough. The heat starts to fade from his face. He pulls his head out of his elbow and turns to address the boy, only for his eyes to widen in horror as he realizes the First Year is clutching the note that was just in his hand.

“Woah,” Yuji’s eyes widen. “It’s like that? You really are lucky, Nanamin.”

Nanami breathes a sigh of relief, glad it was Yuji that found the note and not Nobara or Gojo. Had they found it, he would never hear the end of it.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “I am lucky.”

-

Suguru Geto:

Suguru is shocked when he sees you waiting for him by the door with a small, black bag in your hand. He tilts his head at you when your eyes meet his, as if asking you what you’re doing.

“I threw together a couple of things,” you explain. “For lunch.”

He’s never been cared for like this, never had anyone to pack him a lunch. A million thoughts cross his mind. Thank you, you’re the best, how’d I get so lucky? Of course, none of that comes out.

Instead, he utters a simple, “...why?”

He cringes at the sound of his own voice, bracing himself for you to be disappointed. Luckily, you don’t offend easily and your smile never wavers.

“Well, you were complaining about Satoru only ever wanting to go to sweet shops—and that you were sick of eating lunch alone, so…”

You look down to his hands, suddenly too embarrassed to face him. It felt like a great idea at the moment, but the longer Geto looks at you, the dorkier the idea feels.

Geto closes the gap between you, grabbing your hand from under the lunch box handle. “Thank you,” he mumbles against your lips, tugging you closer so he can taste you better.

Relief floods through you at his words of gratitude. You lean into the kiss, relishing in the way he feels against you.

“I really do love you, you know?” He says softly when he pulls away, the bag now hanging from his hand.

“I know.”

He looks at you expectantly, giving you the same look he does when you’re acting like a dork or giving him attitude.

“I love you too, Suguru. Now get going! I don’t want you to be late.”

He offers you a small wave before he heads out the door, wondering exactly how he’ll return the favor when he gets home.

—

Satoru stares at Suguru from across the table in the teachers lounge. Even with the blindfold on, Geto can tell the man is eyeing the food he has spread out in front of him.

Gojo raises a finger, about to open his mouth.

“Not a word, Satoru.”

His best friend chuckles, dropping his hands in surrender, and goes back to eating his pastries out of a cute pink box. Geto goes back to his own lunch. Though you claimed you just ‘threw together a few things’, he knows that’s far from the truth.

It must have taken you an hour to prepare it all, at minimum. Not only did you make his favorite meal, but you also packed him steamed, honey coated carrots, a slice of homemade banana bread, and a small thermos of his favorite roasted rice tea.

He pops open the lid of the thermos to smell it, the familiar toasty aroma filling his senses. It smells like home—like the nights where he can’t sleep and you bring him a cup of it mixed with sweet honey.

“What’s this?” Satoru snatches the lid from the desk, flipping it upside down and letting a small piece of stationary fall out.

Suguru groans, reaching desperately across the desk for the lid, only for Satoru’s jaw to fall open. He lets the paper float back down to the desk.

“What?” He demands.

Gojo offers him a teasing grin. “Y/n and Suguru, sitting in a tree….”

Geto scowls and grabs the note before Gojo can pick it up and tease him more. Any annoyance he was feeling at the fellow special grade fades away when he sees your handwriting scrawled across the paper.

Hope Satoru doesn’t give you too much trouble today. I love you so much, can’t wait to hear about your day when you get back

All the stars in the sky,

Y/n

Satoru must not see the way Suguru’s cheeks redden at the sight of the note—or if he does, he doesn’t say anything about it. Though he teases, he couldn’t be any happier for his friend as he watches him read the words on the note over and over, a growing smile on his face.

-

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