Latest Posts by hibiscy - Page 5

tomura tries to sneak out of your apartment one morning before you wake up, because he has to get all the way back to his apartment before his dad shows up to take him to a 9AM yoga class.

god forbid he be forced to explain:

a) why he slept over at an apartment that was not his own to his father (toshinori would be calling wedding venues and asking his assistant to look into your ring size before they'd even made it to the yoga studio)

nor b) the fact that he was going to a fucking yoga class at 9 o'clock in god damn the morning with his dad, to you.

he slips out of your bed soundlessly, moving as carefully as possible not to wake you. it pains him to do it. really, it does. your sheets are warm, and soft, and smell like you. and you're still there resting so peacefully, tucked under them, breathing soundly with your face burrowed into the collar of his hoodie that you'd worn to bed the night before. you look so pretty like this, tomura had spent at least half an hour just staring at you while he was laying next to you in your treacherously comfortable bed, and would have happily spent another hour more doing it.

there are very few forces on earth that could tear tomura out of bed like this, but the mortifying prospect of having to explain to his over-enthusiastic father that he has a girlfriend is certainly one of them.

he creeps out of your room and into the bathroom, splashing some cool water on his face and using the lotion that you keep next to the sink that makes his skin feel so nice. you started buying a bigger bottle lately, now that the two of you are both using it, and you never mentioned it but tomura still noticed when the little tube was replaced by a larger version of the same product. next he reaches for the toothbrush that he's started keeping next to yours, double checking the hour on his phone to make sure he wasn't running out of time.

he contemplates stealing one last peek at you in bed before he leaves, but he knows that if he doesn't leave now he won't have time to change his clothes before his dad shows up outside his place, so he heads straight to your front door once he's done in the washroom.

you're standing in his path before he can get to it.

you've got a blanket wrapped around your shoulders, but he can still see the soft skin of your thighs where the hem of his hoodie hangs peeking out from underneath the edges of it. there's a little frown tugging the corners of your mouth down.

tomura freezes in his tracks.

"going somewhere?" you ask him, your voice quiet and a little bit hoarse from sleep.

oh, fuck.

"morning," he mumbles, a bit nervously, as you pin him in your stare.

"it is," you reply, as though agreeing with him. "early, even. so why are you sneaking out of my apartment like a burglar?"

tomura rakes a hand through his sleep-mussed hair. "i, uh, gotta be somewhere."

"you have to be somewhere?" you repeat, a bit incredulously—like the words don't quite compute. you don't seem mad at all, just thoroughly bewildered by the whole strange situation. "tomu, we went three rounds last night and you're awake before two PM on a weekend. are you okay?"

"'course i'm okay," he rushes to get out, tripping over his words.

"did I like... do something? or is there someone el—"

"are you kidding?" tomura's voice cracks and he wishes the ground would open up and swallow him whole. he reaches out and grabs the edge of the blanket you have wrapped around you, his fingers twisting into it desperately. he knows you can't possibly—can't reasonably—think that he's seeing anybody else when the fact that he even landed someone like you is an honest to god miracle. the kind of underdog success story they make multi-part docuseries on.

tomura groans, shuffling forward and resting his forehead against your shoulder as he snakes his arms underneath the blanket around your frame to hold you close.

"you're being weird, tomu," you say quietly, brushing your fingers through his hair and letting your nails drag lightly against his scalp in that way that makes him want to shiver.

"fuck, I know, I know,"—he buries his face further into the crook of your neck, breathing in shakily—"'m not being sketchy or anything."

"you are," you remark lightly. "it's not that I don't trust you, I'm just confused."

tomura mumbles something, but the words are lost to the skin of your throat.

"what was that?" you ask.

tomura steels his nerve and takes one last long breath buried against your warmth. he pulls away and faces you.

"I have to go to a yoga class with my dad."

he loses his nerve about halfway through his admission, his eyes flickering away from yours to a point on the wall just above your front door, as a violent heat surges through his cheeks.

"a yoga class?"

he knows it sounds ridiculous. it is ridiculous. it may have been more believable to tell you he was going to hook up with someone el—

"why didn't you just say that?" your laughter cuts through his spiralling thoughts like a morning alarm.

his gaze snaps back to you, only to find you smiling softly.

"you... you're not...?" tomura isn't even sure what he's going to say. mad? surprised? convinced he's lying?

"i mean, i've noticed you've been looking kind of toned lately, but honestly i thought it's because we've been fucking so much," you scrunch your nose up a little. "yoga makes sense on both counts, though."

you turn and look across your apartment to the clock hanging on the wall.

"what time's your class?" you ask him, suddenly worried that this impromptu interrogation may have made him late. "i didn't mean to—"

tomura grabs either side of the blanket wrapped around your shoulders and tugs you forward, pressing his mouth to yours while your lips are still parted in speech.

(he doesn't make it to class that morning after all.)

SPOILERS!!!! Due to recent events.... Guess no more Twins and BrothersAU... Sike, just kidding. Now we have Twins, Brothers, and UncleAu (Canon, lol) AHAHAHA. The only thing missing is the Indian music in the background, cause that's the only thing that fits this Santa Barbara, lmao

Ex-boyfriend Bakugou is heavy on the mind this evening.

Imagine you’ve been broken up with Bakugou for a few years now, and outside smalltalk between mutual friends, awkward gatherings and the photographs you see of each other on social media you’ve had barely any contact with each other.

So imagine your surprise when you get a call from Dynamight’s agency— and you hate yourself for the way your heart pulses at the thought that it could be Bakugou calling you. Instantly deflated when you hear the solumn voice of someone at his agency on the other end of the line, the realisation dawns on you that he’d forgotten to change his emergency contact as they begin to describe what had happened to him.

And even though you’re not together and it’s practically been years, you find yourself rushing across Musutafu to find him. Blurting your name across the desk to the poor lady at the hospital as she guides you towards his room— already imagining all these macabre scenarios in your head about what you’ll find.

Dating Bakugou over the years meant you’d definitely seen the man at his worst, from broken bones, comas, life saving operations, and even the after affects of some quirks that were more hindrances than anything else (one in particular which had his quirk coming out as little flowers for the next twenty four hours— you’d managed to make some floral arrangements for the entire house using them. Something that Bakugou hadn’t been too happy about.) but nothing could’ve prepared you for this.

Your boyfriend, ex-boyfriend. Sitting on the edge of the bed looking perfectly fine, save for a few cuts and bruises against his sooty skin. Crimson eyes widening in surprise when he noticed you lingering in the doorway, your feet not brave enough to step over the boundary.

And it takes everything in his power to stop himself from tearing out the IV drip that’s coursing through his veins and bounding over to wrap you in a fierce hug.

“They shouldn’ta called you.” He grumbles, obviously realising why you’re here. Knowing that it’s more from obligation than anything else.

prime alpha!tobio and his beta assistant—who's lived an easy, comfortable life free from the shackles and rigid hierarchical expectations of a secondary gender—who falls unexpectedly ill despite being in good health, with no known cause.

you're bed-ridden in your illness, unable to perform your usual duties—it's the first time in the year you've been working for him that you've missed a single day, and yet you're absent for almost a week. your symptoms include a low-grade fever, a strange abdominal discomfort, and just a lingering feeling that sits under your skin like something is wrong.

you visit the doctor who runs a series of tests, and though nothing comes back conclusively, the doctor sits you down and asks you some questions about your daily life. maybe it's stress, maybe an allergy, maybe some environmental factor has brought this mysterious illness on. but when your physician hears about your work, her expression changes. she consults the test results again, eyes scanning over the reports raptly. her final remark (and the pamphlets she sends you home with) all point to one thing.

tobio stares down at the piece of paper you've placed before him with a pensive, irritated furrow upon his brow.

"what's this?" he asks, his cold gaze lifting towards you.

you have your head lowered in a bow—the lines of your body rigid and uncomfortable as you stoop in deference.

"my resignation," you say, your voice thick but surprisingly meek.

"why?" tobio asks, something flaring in the centre of his chest. it burns like anger, but there's something more there too. something primal and animalistic that tells him, goads him, to fight.

you still don't lift your head. "i'm sorry."

that's not an answer, you both know it, and before tobio knows what he's doing, he's already crossed the room and snatched your wrist up in his hand. when your eyes meet his in surprise, there are tears in them. from this close (the closest he's ever been to you, he thinks) there's no mistaking the way they shimmer upon your lash line—how they well up the longer you look at him.

you're trembling, your knees wobbling underneath you, and tobio worries for a moment that you might buckle in onto yourself.

"i can't," you warble, "you—you're making my body weird," you say, lifting your hand up to your face and clamping it over your mouth and nose. tobio pauses, realizing that he's been polluting the air around both of you with pheromones ever since you placed the letter of resignation upon the table before him.

but you've never been susceptible to that before.

he processes this slowly while you tremble, his hand still tightly wrapped around your wrist.

his eyes widen.

saliva floods his mouth.

there's no way he can accept your resignation now.

Sukuna has never said no to you.

It didn’t matter what the request was, simple or complicated, easy to fix or a days-long job, Sukuna was always at your side, completing the task as fast as he needed to to keep you satisfied. He would love to deny it, you’re sure, but evidence proves time and time again that he puts your needs and wants at the top of his priority list. 

And you were curious how far you could go with it.

The two of you are sitting in your underwear at the breakfast nook, warming yourselves in the bay window while the morning sun starts on the leftover night time chill. It wasn't quite time for breakfast, still too early for the both of you. In the meantime, you sip on your morning brews, preserving the comfortable silence. Sukuna is flipping through the day's newspaper, his eyes are groggy with sleep and he hasn't said more than a handful of words to you yet. He wasn't a morning person.

You were starting to change that.

"Kuna," You call to him, nudging him with your foot from your corner of the window bench.

"Hmm?" He doesn't look up from the paper, but his hand reaches down and grabs your foot, pulling it into his lap. His thumbs start to subconsciously knead at your muscles.

"I want these." You hold up your phone, which you had previously been scrolling through in an attempt to find something ridiculous for this exact moment. You were sure you had found it, something even Sukuna would find unnecessary. 

And yet, he merely glances at your screen, takes in the sight for all of two seconds, and then returns his attention to whatever news article he was in the middle of.

"My wallet's on the counter." He clears the sleep from his throat not sparing a second look. 

You blink at him in surprise.

"D-Did you even see what it is?" You flip your phone around to make sure you were displaying the correct thing. 

Sukuna is frowning before he looks up again, curious at your persistence. He gently cups your hand, bringing it only a minuscule amount closer to examine your screen a second time. 

You were on one of the most luxurious brand’s websites, showing him an incredibly regular pair of panties, no straps, no details, all black- with one of the most outrageous price tags you had ever seen for something so ordinary. 

Sukuna cocks a brow at you over your phone, "Can't imagine you need more panties when you're constantly stealing my boxers. But whatever, hand it over. I know my card number-"

"Kuna," You interrupt him with a surprised laugh, holding fast to your phone when he tries to pluck it out of your hands, "they're a thousand dollars."

He glances back, his eyes focusing lower on the screen where you know the price tag to be. The newspaper in his hands drops down, momentarily forgotten by what he sees. For a moment, you think you've found his limit.

"Wait, are those red one's assless?" He points just below the price, where the recommended products are depicted. "Get those too."

You drop the phone down so that he meets your eyes, which are wide with shock.

Sukuna always took care of you. Always insisted on being the provider of any single thing that you may need; a warm meal, a soft bed, anything your eyes twinkled at that was available for purchase- even if you would never think of buying or owning it. Granted, you never wanted much in terms of material possessions, so you didn't realize the true extent of Sukuna's leniency until now.

It was slightly intimidating, and part of it felt wrong. Sukuna had money, plenty of it, but that didn’t mean he should feel the need to spend copious amounts of it on you just because you could ask him to. He was giving you too much power, it felt like.

You huff through your nose, frowning at him, which only has him tilting his head further to the side in question.

You ignore it, setting your phone onto the window seat and crawling your way closer to him, until you can gather up his face in your hands and lock his gaze into yours.

He glares at you past smushed cheeks, but doesn't make a move to break free of your hold, humoring you. "The hell are you doing-"

"You know you don't always have to say yes to me?"

Now that has him taken aback. His mouth automatically opens for a witty response, but your question seems to have effectively taken the words from his mouth. You can see the cogs in his head turning, and what you wouldn't give to peer inside his mind and hear his thoughts.

It takes him a moment, but eventually that familiar confident smile stretches across his sleepy face. His hands seem to instinctively slide their way up your bare legs until his fingers grip your hip bones, pressing into you. 

He hums, "When have you ever said no to me?"

You scoff, ready to give him a prime example, but end up coming up short. The two of you loved to tease each other with disobedience, but in the end you were eager to give Sukuna anything his heart desired. You loved to please him, it was one of your favorite things to do, in fact.

"You never ask anything ridiculous of me." You remind him, smiling as one of his warm hands slides back down your waist and dips into the pair of his boxers you were sporting that day. 

"You know what's ridiculous?” His voice wraps around your throat, and suddenly has you swallowing past the delicious grip. You're folding into him before you even realize it, at the mercy of his calloused hands. "The implication that I wouldn't do just about anything for you."

You can't help but sigh hopelessly, although it comes out as a desperate noise that pleads him for more. You really were all his, just like he loved to tell you.

"Now hand me your phone." It's a whisper, coaxing you. "I wanna see you in red."

You can’t say no. 

At least it was mutual.

thinking about lovers who impulse divorce but then have a slowburn romance and get back together. they’re too lazy to deal with court. he introduces you as his ex wife. he’s in love with you

f. megumi x reader | summer heat

“i’m bored.” 

“i know,” comes megumi’s exasperated reply.

this year the heat waves of tokyo have encroached on a new high, light spilling in abundance from windows sparse in number like water overflowing from a tiny cup. you wrap your balmy arms around his neck, sweat on his silky smooth skin and bleeding through the fabric of his shirt, nearly bare without his uniform jacket on. 

“I’d blow air onto you, but it would just make you feel hotter,” you say, landing an open-mouthed kiss on his cheek, your hands on your knees. he leans back on the edge of the bed in exhaustion, energy seeped out by the heat like blood sucked by a leech. curse japanese floors and carpets— always built for heat absorption in the winter. what if it was hot— really hot, like now? 

“it’s fine. it’s too hot for anything right now.” 

he has skin like snow— you wonder if, with the scalding summer sun on him, he’s going to end up with tanned skin by the end of september. 

he’s right, though. even with his hand on your back, precariously near to your waist, the two of you aren’t set on doing anything and there isn’t any air conditioning in his room either. so you’re stuck here, faces hot and breath hotter, necks sweaty and bodies sweatier. 

you place your legs over his and your forehead against his collarbone, comfortable and calm, even with the sweltering heat. at this point everything in your mind is swimming through warm waves as you feel more sweat trickle down your cheek. 

“I wish we had summer uniforms.” 

“I’ll go buy a fan next time,” he whispers into your scalp. his breath fans against your head like steam. he moves his hand from the sweat of your back, looping his arm around your neck. “it’s too damn hot, I can’t even think.” 

you nuzzle your nose into the very top of his chest for a moment, before raising your head to peck a spot on the crook of his neck. “feels like an oven.” 

you don’t mind the heat, though. not right now. 

okay so this is horrible and really short but I wrote this earlier today while it was really hot just because it was really hot. there's not much to say; I live in malaysia. (this is going to flop but omg it's been SO HOT lately like. sweating all the time and i know i should expect it but STILL)

again, selamat hari raya!

PEOPLE TOLD ME ABOUT THE FLAMES, I COULDN’T SEE THROUGH THE SMOKE — MEGUMI FUSHIGURO

cw some kind of college au/boarding school au? this used to be for rodeo station and now just... exists on its own, friends to lovers, megumi has toji and satoru as father figures so are we surprised that he’s a bully and doesn’t really grow out of that phase… anyway, apologies to muta and miwa, 1.3k words

Nobara makes a poor effort to stifle her laughter as Kokichi stomps up to stand in front of you, hair and clothes drenched in chocolate milk, shoes sloshing with each step, and the bandage on the side of his cheek peeling from the wetness.

When you look up at him, you’re unimpressed, and unsurprised, so you resume annotating your lecture notes as if you weren’t interrupted. If Kokichi wanted to stand in a puddle of dripping milk, then so be it—you should have finished your notes yesterday, and you couldn’t get through your other tasks without catching up first.

“Look, I already said I was sorry. I shouldn’t have kept bothering you for your number when you’d already said no,” Kokichi starts, wiping dripping milk from his chin, “Now, will you please call off your guard dog.”

You don’t reply immediately, focused on finishing the last paragraph of the page, much to Kokichi’s dismay, and Nobara’s amusement. He huffs at your silence, frustrated and humiliated, but there’s nothing for him to say or do until you respond. Maybe that’s something he should have considered when he kept trying to talk to you in class. Still, even now, you’re not ignoring Kokichi to embarrass him or string him along; you just want to finish your godforsaken anthropology homework.

“You seem to be under the impression that I can make Megumi start or stop doing anything,” you sigh, put your highlighter down, and tiredly look up at Kokichi, “But I regret to inform you that you’re wrong.”

Kokichi’s nose scrunches in disbelief, an angered hand coming to wave in front of his face, but his dripping clothes result in splashes to his face—and further laughter from Nobara. He sighs out of frustration, trying to put away his pride, but Nobara’s giggling and your nonchalant attitude are really making it difficult for him to take this in stride.

“Okay, you’re fucking with me—and I deserve it, alright? But, Todo already gave me a fucking lecture, Mai won’t look at me, and Megumi is going to rip and stain every single shirt I own at this point.” 

“That sounds like your problem,” Nobara snickers, rolling her eyes when Kokichi gives her a glare. 

“I'd love to help, Muta, but this is out of my control,” you loll, capping your marker, “Maybe try apologizing to Megumi instead of dripping chocolate milk over notes and shoes.”

“Eh? The hell am I apologizing to him for?” 

“You’re the one who pissed him off—how should I know?” you sigh, sliding your pens and markers into your bag, and closing your folder. 

Nobara pipes in to taunt, “You’d better figure it out soon, though. I hear they’re serving spaghetti tomorrow, and that definitely stains.” 

You swear you hear Kokichi growl, but it only makes Nobara laugh harder. The two of them together is a bad combination—Kokichi is easily aggravated, and Nobara easily aggravates. You’re certain that if Megumi weren’t already on his ass, Nobara would have stepped in to bully him just for the fun of it.

Still, you’d rather not have to testify on either of their behalf, so you bid Kokichi a goodbye, offering him your best advice about cleaning milk stains out of white shirts, and drag Nobara by the arm before she can make another quick quip to finally make him snap. 

She’s still laughing at Kokichi’s expense all the way back to your dorm, “As much as I like seeing Megumi pummel Muta, he’s definitely gonna get written up, at the very least, if he keeps it up. Just tell him you’re not mad about it anymore, and he’ll piss off.” 

You stuff your hands into your pockets, “I don’t control megumi. I didn’t tell him to egg Muta’s car, and pour milk all over him. ” 

“Like hell you don’t,” Nobara scoffs, “Kokichi was right about one thing—Megumi’s a doberman on a leash and you’re his owner.” 

“I didn’t even tell him that Kokichi kept asking for my number. I’m pretty sure Todo told Yuuji, and Yuuji told Megumi.”

“Yeah, that’s almost worse,” Nobara huffs, “He’s just moved to protect you out of undying loyalty—it must be nice to have a knight in shining armor. Does he call you ‘my liege,’ when you’re alone? He might as well bow down and kiss your shoes with the way he worships the ground you walk on.”

You know Nobara is teasing. The rhetoric that you have influence on Megumi isn’t new to you, but it’s always confusing for you to hear. You’ve known Megumi since grade school, and one thing you’re certain of is that he does things of his own conviction, and when he’s decided something, there’s little anybody can do to convince him otherwise. He’s the true definition of steadfast, and sometimes you wonder if his beliefs have inadvertently made him gain masochistic tendencies, because you’ve seen Megumi suffer in pain just to prove a point. 

“Megumi’s his own person, and he’s not easily influenced,” you chuckle, “If anything, he’s more of an attack dog—he bites whenever he sees something he doesn’t like.”

“In any case, he’s your dog,” Nobara shrugs. She pauses for a moment, skipping to catch up to you with a scrunch to her face, “I change my mind though, he’s definitely not scary enough to be a doberman. What are the puffy ones—the really small ones that yap a bunch?” 

“Pomeranians?”

She lights up—“Yeah, that’s way more fitting! Plus, he’s got spiky hair like those little mutts, a really bratty, spoiled one too. Gojo probably kept him in his Birkin as a kid.” 

You giggle as Nobara searches for an image to compare to one of Megumi. She goes as far as to make a collage and send it in your group chat for approval, instantly getting a rave reaction from Yuuji, and predictably, no response from Megumi.

Nobara walks you back halfway to your dorm, leaving you on your own to head to the gym to meet up with Yuuji. When you get back to your room, you’re not surprised to already see Megumi inside, sitting snugly on your worn-in couch with a book in hand. It’s Wednesday, so he only had morning classes, and prefers to spend his afternoon studying in solace, usually taking advantage of your larger, empty room to get his work done. He gives you a small wave, enraptured in his reading, and you know better than to try and disturb him, so you take your place on the opposite side of the couch with the remainder of your notes in hand, finally having the peace and quiet to finish your annotations. 

Megumi finishes his chapter before you’re done, but he waits for you, quietly scrolling on his phone so as not to interrupt you. You don’t face him when you speak, keeping your eyes on your notes, and simply stating, “Kokichi apologized.”

You hear him hum. you know he’s looking at you, but you don’t meet his gaze, and do your best to bite back a smile before he asks, “You forgive him?”

You finish your annotations with a final asterisk at the bottom of your page, so you cap the marker, and finally turn to face Megumi. He doesn’t ask a second time, even as you silently observe him, even if your smile is confusing to him.

“I wasn’t ever really upset,” you explain, “It was annoying, but he wasn’t harassing me or anything.” 

He hums again, but it’s not agreeing. “Tsumiki is gonna get mad if you get suspended.” 

Megumi calls your bluff with his hum this time, and you sigh. Tsumiki won’t get mad, because Megumi would never get suspended, not as long as Gojo is around as headmaster.

Megumi turns his body inward, raising an arm to rest his elbow against the cushion of the couch. He lolls his head to rest against his palm, cheek squished, and almost mischievous glimmer in his eye. In this light, you see Nobara’s argument—with sleep-tousled hair and expectant eyes, Megumi looks an awful lot like a puppy waiting for a command. 

It’s cute, until you realize that Megumi is awaiting your command. Is he?—why would he, he’s never been known to listen, and yet, you’re tempted to see if you truly do have him on some proverbial leash, like everyone else seems to believe.

“Megumi,” you call, softly, “He’s learned his lesson, and I’m fine, alright? Leave him alone.”  

Megumi blinks slowly. His features soften, only for a moment, before he’s turned away from you to pick up his book again. He doesn’t respond verbally, doesn’t touch on the topic for the rest of the evening that you both spend studying in your room, but the following day, you walk past Kokichi and Miwa heading into their chemistry lab, and notice a distinct lack of milk or food residue on his clothing or in his hair, so there isn’t anything more to be said.

Megumi is waiting outside of your lecture hall after your last class of the day, offering you a carton of strawberry milk—unopened, and un-thrown. You accept it, reaching up to ruffle his hair as a thank you, and you’re surprised when you feel him move into your touch. He dips his head down a bit further, gently knocking it against yours before straightening up with a sly smile. He nods his head, wordlessly, and turns towards your dorm, ready to walk you back. 

You follow, dazed, as you stab the straw into your milk. You’re a half-step behind Megumi, head clouded with confusing new daydreams about the boy in front of you, and now you can’t help but to wonder if you’re the one left to follow Megumi’s whim, or if he’s just pulling you by his own leash. 

RODEO STATION, 2 — MEGUMI FUSHIGURO

A collection of you and Megumi through the years, through Gojo’s eyes. 

content, warnings: childhood friends to lovers, canon-adjacent, satoru adopts megumi and tsumiki, reader has a cursed technique sort of delved into here

word count: 2.2k

part ii: you and megumi are ten, tsumiki is eleven, gojo is twenty-ish?, about six or seven months after gojo meets all of you, and adopts megumi and tsumiki. you can read part one here

The moment that Satoru met him, he knew that Megumi was a little troublemaker and there was little he could do to stop that. Satoru didn’t mind for the most part, and he couldn’t blame the kid either—honestly, he was more surprised that Megumi didn’t routinely get himself into more trouble, but he supposes he has you and Tsumiki to thank for that. 

He’d naively believed that you and Tsumiki both played the role of anchoring maternal figure for Megumi, but it only takes a few weeks for Satoru to learn that it’s Tsumiki that serves as the anchor for you two. Satoru then earnestly wonders if you were bullying Megumi with the way you’re able to keep him under your thumb, but when Megumi adamantly refutes this with the nastiest, most offended scowl Satoru’s ever seen on a kid before, he backs off and reasons that this is just how your relationship with Megumi works.

And, as it turns out, Megumi is the only one doing any sort of bullying. He’s ten and Satoru has been to more parent-teacher conferences than any other parent has ever possibly attended in their lifetime. He didn’t even know that it was possible for kid his age to get kicked out of school, especially at this point in the year. There’s only three months left until summer vacation, so Satoru enlists Ieiri’s help in enrolling Megumi into public school to finish out fifth grade. She also reassures him that this separation from you and Tsumiki is temporary, and that you would all be able to attend middle school together again in the fall. 

The major problem then becomes that you all get dismissed at different times. You and Tsumiki used to end your days at the same time, but Tsumiki starts staying late to take piano lessons. However, this is remedied by the mother of a friend of Tsumiki’s, who drives her home afterwards; an older woman that Satoru becomes eternally grateful for. Even so, you’re dismissed thirty minutes before Megumi, and some shuffling has to be done to align your commutes. Satoru knows that the three of you took yourselves to and from school before he came into the picture, and that most kids your age are more than capable getting home on their own, but after you told him that some old man from the Kamo clan came to talk to you after school one day, he can’t help but to worry. 

Satoru isn’t your guardian, not in the way that he is for Megumi and Tsumiki, but that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t feel responsible for you—morally, financially, emotionally, and more importantly, for his own safety because he knows he’d have both Divine Dogs biting at his ankles if something curse-related happened to you and he didn’t do anything to stop it. 

You were currently under the care of your elderly great aunt who hadn’t a shred of cursed energy from what Satoru could tell. He had Principal Yaga do a background check, and found no other sorcerers in your immediate family, nor any traceable Kamo relatives, and more importantly, you didn’t possess any sort of Blood Manipulation technique. Satoru’s seen what you can do so far to control water, has even seen you give the Divine Dogs trouble in a gentle sparring match—you’re impressive, even at your young age, so he can understand why a powerful clan might see the potential in you, but the Kamo clan isn’t historically welcoming of outsiders. If you’re not related to them, he can’t fathom why any member would physically approach you. 

The old man never revealed his name to you, but Satoru’s certain it’s either a clan elder, or the current head himself; neither of which bring him any comfort. In the spirit of their traditional ways, he doubts anyone would actually try to harm you out in the open, but Satoru still wants to keep you on close watch for a little while. He thinks he’s the best man for the job. He’s quickly proven otherwise. 

He exorcises curses with a bit of hastiness and little tact in order to be there when you get dismissed from school. Ieiri says it’s creepy to follow you from a distance, but Satoru is just doing what he can to protect you. If somebody else is following you, he wants to see who they are. They’ll never approach or reveal themselves if he hovers next to you, and if you half the pride that Megumi has, you’d run him out of town if he ticked you off by playing overprotective big brother—so, instead, he positions himself far enough away to observe you, and close enough to defend if need be. 

He never needs to. 

For as wild and boisterous as you are with Megumi and Tsumiki, you follow a simple, quiet after school routine. You walk with Tsumiki and her friends to the west gate to drop them off at piano practice, then cross the street to buy a snack—this differs, but you always get a carton of strawberry milk—and then walk to the train station. It’s a ten minute walk from your school to the station, and a fifteen minute walk from Megumi’s school to the station, which is why Satoru doesn’t quite know how the kid manages to keep you waiting for only seven minutes on average when he already gets out of school thirty minutes after you. 

Once he gets over the initial shock, he can’t help but to be amused. He knows that when Megumi first changed schools, he started meeting you on the train, two stops later—at the one closer to his new school. But in the last week, Megumi has walked himself seventeen blocks east, at what Satoru guesses must be an inhuman pace, just to meet you at the station closest to you. 

When two weeks have passed since the unknown Kamo elder has contacted you, and no other incidents have occurred, Satoru resigns his position as perimeter watchdog. He has a bunch of missions to catch up on anyway, and he figures that you and Megumi are safe in each other’s care for now. 

A few weeks later, after catching up on his assignments, Satoru decides to check back in. He knows he doesn’t have to, but something in his stomach is telling him to. Maybe it has to do with the fact that the curse he fought earlier today had some kind of toxic blood that has him thinking the worst could happen to you, or getting a call that Megumi had been cutting some of his classes, or that he’s tired and delusional and worried and scared, or maybe it’s just his blooming maternal instincts telling him something is wrong, but he rushes to spy on your commute home. 

He’s late. Megumi isn’t with you, and you’re already on the train when he makes it to the station and he can sense two sources of cursed energy trailing way too close behind you just as the train doors shut. His mind is racing irrationally—is this an unusual move by the Kamo clan, or perhaps someone else? Word had certainly gotten around that he’d picked up Toji Fushiguro’s kid, plus another kid with immense cursed potential, and Satoru himself and the Gojo clan have more than enough enemies. Whatever it may be, he doesn’t take his chances, using his newly honed short-range teleportation skills to make it to the next station before the train can. 

He’s panting, thinking about every worst possible scenario at once, wondering how to best deal with whoever or whatever was targeting you, especially in such a crowded place, wondering if you’re safe, if Megumi was safe—why wasn’t he with you? Has someone already gotten to him, too? Was Tsumiki even at piano practice? Oh god, if he hasn’t already been kidnapped, Megumi is totally going to kill him if something happens to you. 

Satoru rushes onto the train as soon as the door opens, eyes wildly scanning for you through the crowd, ready to strike when he finally finds you—seated towards the back of the car, reading the book that Tsumiki had loaned to you, quietly, and both the black and white Divine Dogs sitting on either side of you. 

And Satoru has to laugh at himself. If he’d stopped for even a moment (or if he’d gotten more than two hours worth of sleep in the past three weeks trying to make up all his assignments), he’d have recognized Megumi’s residuals, would have recognized the energy of the dogs, and would have pieced together that there wasn’t a single threatening aura in the vicinity. 

Oopsies. 

“Gojo?” you call to him, not too loud as to not to disturb everyone else’s commute. “How come you’re here?” 

Satoru shuffles through the crowd and holds onto the overhead rail once he’s next to you. The white dog moves to settle underneath your short legs, blinking at him with disinterest. “Got off a little early today, thought I’d surprise you brats, that’s all,” he says, then motions to the dogs next to you, “Where’s Megumi?” 

You blink at him. Satoru knows you probably don’t believe him, but you spare him the embarrassment when you don’t push it further. “He had to make up a credit today, so he’s getting on at the next stop. Do you want a sandwich? They only had ones with peppers today, so Megumi won’t eat it, but Mr. Teuchi gave me two, anyway.” 

“What, is he allergic or something?” Satoru questions, accepting your offer, and the seat next to you when he starts to unwrap the sandwich. 

“No, he’s just picky,” you tell him, closing your book to unwrap yours, too. You’re quiet, taking your first two bites, before you turn to him again, “How did you know Megumi was missing?”

Satoru chokes. It gains him a few concerned stares, and even a pointed ear from the black dog, before he regains his composure. “Um... he tells me usually he follows you home from the other stop, that’s why.” 

“Then why didn’t you try to surprise us at the other stop?”

Satoru pauses again. Since when did ten year olds get so lippy and observant? “I did, but I was late. So I sort of,” Satoru leans down, crinkling the empty sandwich wrapper in his right hand and uses his left to beckon you towards him to whisper, “Teleported here.” He pulls back, prideful, and crosses his legs, “Pretty cool, right?” 

“So, why didn’t you just teleport to the first station when you realized you were going to be late?” You question, mocking his whispering tone when you repeat the word. 

“Hey, you think doing that kind of stuff comes automatically? I can’t just pop up anyplace at any time,” Satoru groans, a bit overdramatically, “Not yet, anyway. I’ll be able to do that soon.” 

You hum, kicking your legs happily as you take another bite out of your snack. “I think I get it. Megumi says it’s hard spreading out and controlling your cursed energy over long distances, but he’s been practicing hard. He can send the dogs way far away from him now.” 

“I see,” Satoru turns his chin down, eyeing the Divine Dogs with a gentle smile. He almost says that it’s easier to send shikigami on their own, especially those like Megumi’s, and particularly when you anchor them to another source of cursed energy such as yourself, but you look way too proud of Megumi for him to burst your bubble. He also declines to say that Megumi probably doesn’t send the dogs to you on days like this just for the sake of practicing. 

A crush isn’t quite exactly the motivation Satoru pictured when he told Megumi he’d have to work hard and get strong, but whatever works, works. 

Ten minutes later, the train comes to a steady halt. Megumi is the first new passenger on board, and unlike Satoru, he doesn’t need to turn his head wildly, every which way to find you. You’re like a beacon to Megumi, he easily finds the both of you in the last seats in the car, and steadily makes his way to you. 

Megumi greets you before he greets Satoru, taking the seat across and facing you before he turns to the taller man with a much less receptive frown, “What are you doing here?” 

“I believe the word you’re looking for is hello, Megumi,” Satoru teases, reaching across to ruffle his already unruly hair. Megumi grumbles, batting his offending hand away.

“Gojo ate your sandwich,” you chirp. 

“What?” Satoru yells, incredulous, “I did not. You gave it to me—tell him!” 

You have much more fun watching Satoru scramble than defending his honor. It’s only when Satoru gives his best pout that you admit to Megumi that you offered up his sandwich, consoling him with the fact that it included his least favorite ingredient and making it up by pulling out two cartons of strawberry milk for him. Megumi accepts them both with quiet thanks, cheeks growing pink to match the cartons, and you smiling widely when he takes his first sip. 

Satoru had a hunch those were for Megumi. So, this isn’t one-sided. Good for you kids. 

It’s another twenty-six minutes before it’s time for you all to get off the train. The Gojo-Fushiguro residence and your great aunt’s house are in opposite directions, but are both just a short five minute journey from the station exit. One you can certainly make on your own, and still, Megumi insists that you let the dogs walk with you and that he’ll release them once you’re home. 

“It’s good practice,” Megumi mumbles, shooing you on your way uphill, “I want to know how long I can keep them out, too.” 

You have that same look on your face that you had earlier, like you don’t quite believe Megumi, but just as with earlier, you don’t say anything, sparing Megumi and Satoru a formal goodbye and a wave before heading home. Satoru and Megumi turn to walk back to their own house, he can’t help but to smile every time Megumi turns his head to look back at your silhouette. 

Satoru decides that you’re not Megumi’s anchor, you’re the lighthouse that guides him to shore, a light that he follows with faith and reason; a safe haven that Megumi seeks to protect. Satoru can admire that, but he wonders what happened that could make the most unruly kid he knows pledge his allegiance like that. Megumi would have refused Satoru’s aid if he hadn’t agreed to let you stay in his life, and although he’d chalked it up to puppy love before, Satoru’s beginning to wonder if there’s anything he, or anyone, even could do to separate the two of you. 

Likely not, he concludes, when two weeks later, your class goes on a field trip and Megumi is the one who comes home exhausted and crashes onto the couch immediately. When Satoru asks, all he gets is a tired grunt; but shortly after Megumi falls asleep, he can feel a few extra shadows at his feet, and a glimpse of the white dog before she completely vanishes into the darkness. 

Satoru chuckles, leaning down to ruffle Megumi’s hair before heading to the kitchen to make a snack for Tsumiki. If this is the rate that Megumi trains to keep his loved ones protected, then Satoru has no worries about him getting strong enough to keep up with him.

RODEO STATION, 1 — MEGUMI FUSHIGURO 

A collection of you and Megumi, through the years, through Gojo’s eyes. 

content, warnings: friends to lovers, fluff, sort of canon-adjacent, satoru adopts megumi and tsumiki, reader has a cursed technique but it’s not mentioned in depth here, really just you and megumi falling in love and gojo watching

word count: 1.1k

part i: first years, jujutsu tech. fits in the timeline around when nobara first joins the class

When Satoru first finds him, Megumi has two conditions. First, that Tsumiki would be kept safe and happy, and far away from the Zenin clan if they weren’t going to be good to her—safe and far away from all jujutsu society if Gojo could help it; and that she would never have to worry about feeding herself or Megumi ever again. Satoru agreed right away, he would have done that without the request. 

For his second condition, an eight year old Megumi looked Satoru straight in the eye and told him that he would absolutely not be separated from you. Satoru thought it was cute, sweet, in the bratty, and naive but determined kind of way that seemed to be everything that kid stood for, and Satoru couldn’t fault him for it. Megumi’s evident childlike adoration of you aside, Satoru saw potential in you, too, so he accepted Megumi’s conditions, happy to welcome the two of you to the world of sorcery. 

It’s not until a week before you both start at Jujutsu Tech, that Satoru really asks Megumi why he wants you here (never mind the fact that you had already also made up your mind about being a sorcerer, and if there is anything that Satoru has learned about you in the past decade, it’s that: one, you have the magical ability to make Megumi do anything you say; and two, you’re incredible persuasive and very stubborn). Megumi doesn’t look him in the eye when he answers, fidgeting with his melting ice cream instead when he says, “Well, she saved my life.” 

Satoru doesn’t tease when he hears this, only digging his spoon in for a scoop of Megumi’s toffee butter, smiling to himself when the cold hits his tongue, because he’d heard the message loud and clear: Megumi believes he owes you his life, and to keep yours protected, he wants you by his side.

Satoru quickly learns that Megumi truly has his work cut out for him as he watches you burst through a top-floor window of a high-rise building, falling carelessly with the object of your mission—a special-grade cursed object—clutched in your grasp. Second later, there’s a loud explosion, as the ugly head of a large cursed falls limp in the hole in the broken glass that you’d left behind. Satoru chuckles when he sees you smile, and the faint cheer of weeeeeeeee as you fall. He knew you were wild and stubborn by the way you bossed Megumi around without a care, but seeing you in action proved that you were also in your own league of crazy, a fantastic sorceress in the making. 

To his left, Yuuji gapes wildly as he looks up, shielding his eyes with his hand, and then flinching back when Nobara bursts through the ground floor door, not without a nail going flying into the curse that had been chasing her. She looks angry, then wide eyed, then up to where Yuuji and Megumi were also staring and starts squealing alongside him. 

“Gojo-sensei, what are you standing there smiling about—do something!” Nobara shouts, pointing an accusatory finger up in the air at your flying body. 

Yuuji gasps again, like he’d just figured out the consequence of you falling from a building, spewing on his own cries, “Hey, seriously, what the hell are we doing—she can’t fly,” he shouts, turning to shake his sensei, then pausing, “Wait, Fushiguro, can she fly? You know her.” 

“Idiot,” Nobara spits, “If she could fly then she’d be flying, not falling.”

“Then why aren’t we doing any—you know what, I think I can catch her,” Yuuji boasts, rolling up his sleeves, prepared to position himself underneath your descending body, and that’s when Satoru steps in, extending an arm in front of his students. 

“You all worry too much,” he smiles, lifting his blindfold just enough to look the pair in the eye, and tilt his head up slightly, “Besides, Megumi’s handled it.” 

Three heads turn back up to the sky, where you’re no longer in freefall, instead have had your shoulders snatched by Nue’s talons. You’ve still got that wild smile on your face, wider now as you descend much more elegantly via Megumi’s shikigami. Nobara and Yuuji wince as Nue’s wings flap widely when you’re set on the ground. You shift the box with the cursed object to one hand, reaching your free one around to pet the bird’s feathers. It crows happily, and Satoru snickers, much to Megumi’s dismay. You always did treat his shikigami like pets. 

“Hey, you’re okay!” Yuuji cheers, eyes sparkling, “What’s in the box? A sword—actually, I don’t want to know. If it’s another finger, keep it away from me.” 

“Hand it here,” Nobara demands. You’re happy to hand over the box and have another hand available for petting Nue. 

Satoru watches fondly as Yuuji and Nobara fuss over the box. They should probably exercise more caution, but he’s there, so the worst can’t happen. Meanwhile, you step closer to Megumi with Nue fluttering behind you. 

“You’re the one who told me there would be no need to get involved,” Megumi says, voice soft, hands falling comfortably at his side. 

“I said that you wouldn’t have to get involved with the curses,” you correct, standing on your tiptoes to nuzzles your head into the bird’s feathers, “I said nothing about not getting involved with me.” 

Satoru does his best not to choke out a loud laugh as Megumi’s face becomes increasingly pink when you reach forward to pinch his cheeks, his grumbling drowned in the sound of Yuuji and Nobara’s bickering. Satory sighs, content. He cares for all his students, but there’s a certain weight lifted on his shoulders knowing that when it came to you, there was truly nothing to worry about—Megumi would always be there for you. Honestly, he thinks Megumi might fight him to protect you if it came down to it. 

That thought does bring an audible chuckle to his lips, Megumi’s pinched expression calling to him, “What are you laughing about?” 

To which Satoru only hums, sticking his hands in his pockets. Megumi’s eyebrows furrow deeper, but it’s quickly dissolved when you catch his attention again, saying your farewells to Nue before giving Megumi the okay to let him recede into his shadows. 

“Oh, nothing,” Satoru chirps, turning to lead the group back to Ichiji’s car, “Come on, who’s still up for revolving sushi!”  

Cheers follow him as the veil dispels. You question Yuuji about whether or not you think the restaurant will have grilled eel, and Nobara pretends to throw up, arguing that eel is the worst, that you all should stick to hand rolls instead. Megumi stays quiet, walking on your outside, and humming along with all of your suggestions, and Satoru can’t help but wonder whether or not you knew that Nue had been out from the moment you’d stepped in the building. 

Honestly, he thinks Megumi might win that fight—might win any fight if it meant being with you.

kiyoomi rarely says i love you. 

when he is feeling particularly soft, though, he might frown as he tells you of course i remembered; why would i forget? (you see, it’s a little known fact that kiyoomi sakusa is a very selfish person, specifically when it comes to you. he will hoard every scrap of you he can get, and for you to be shocked that he would remember a tiny detail you shared with him one afternoon, two and a half years ago is rather offensive.) softer yet, he calls you to let you know that he just bought a sweater — figured it’d be something you would like. he’s a time zone ahead of you. the two of you have just started seriously dating 2 months ago. the sweater is in your favorite color (you told him this fun fact out of fear of an awkward silence; kiyoomi snatches it up and holds it close to his heart, because of course he would.) he bought a matching one for himself. softer still, he’ll hardly be able to keep eye contact as he struggles to stand. atsumu calls you from kiyoomi’s phone, laughing as he tells you that your boyfriend is horribly drunk and is killing the mood since he won’t shut up about how much he misses you. kiyoomi leans against the wall, watching you as you lock the door to your newly shared apartment. his curls are all messed up and his cheeks are flushed, and when you turn to him, he mutters out can you kiss me?(did you know that kiyoomi sakusa has only ever kissed one person?) and when he is feeling his softest, he looks at you with something too infinite to just be called love in his eyes. he asks you, can i marry you? not will you marry me, because despite his upbringing, kiyoomi isn’t quite as traditional as his mother taught him to be. because, despite the wealth and his growing fame, and the fact that he’s all cold skin and stone heart, kiyoomi sakusa considers it a privilege above all else to be the one you would want by your side.

de-stress

inuokkotober day 2: voice please listen to the actual song it's literally perfect for toge...

[ last updated: 4/8/2024 ]

‧ ˚. PROFESSOR GETO SERIES ↳ Professor Suguru Geto is a renown ethics professor, and you're a straight A student whose GPA he's trying to ruin. You're more intent on making him see your brilliance -- but you get more than you bargained for, when the two of you learn about what you owe to each other.

‧ ˚. SATORU GOJO

seeing you tonight, its a bad idea right? | smut, fluff ↳ seeing your ex is always a bad idea, except when its satoru gojo.

bigger than the whole sky | angst, fluff, manga spoilers ↳ before his fight, you and satoru have an honest conversation about the future.

dessert before dinner | smut, fluff ↳ satoru can't wait to have you until you get back from the sister school event, so he plies you with sweet words until you agree to have dessert before dinner.

all's fair (in love and mergers) | long fic, smut, fluff, bffs to enemies to lovers ↳ you're not sure what's worse -- being an arranged marriage or being an arranged marriage with the person who used to be your best friend.

three's a crowd (ft. suguru geto) | long fic, au, smut, fluff ↳ professors satoru gojo and suguru geto rarely wanted the same thing at the same time -- that was until you.

bloodsucker | smut, dark ↳ you had avoided your ex for so long, only to run into him at a halloween party, and he's the same as ever but has his teeth always been that sharp?

got you | smut, dark ↳ satoru finally found you -- and he's not going to let you go this time.

is it over now | angst, fluff, smut ↳ suguru thinks the only way you'll leave him is if he lies to you about cheating on him - and it is. but turns out, you're not so easy to leave - for him and his best friend (ft. satoru gojo). "if you want, i can come inside?" | fluff, crack, domestic ↳ nobara spots gojo with a sorcerer she's never seen before and of course hijinks ensue (aka hearing gojo's english va (kaiji tang) say the above line in apothecary diaries and i lost my mind).

i wanna show you off | sugar daddy au, smut, fluff, slight angst ↳ when you accompany your friends to a bar rich men and women frequent, you catch the eye of a certain white-haired rich man, who is more than willing to spoil you

tastes sweeter on your lips | fluff ↳ on a rare day off, you decide to take care of the strongest sorcerer - with something very sweet.

the doctor is in | smut, fluff, au ↳ when you go to your annual check-up, you didn't think you'd be crushing on your doctor - or that he's conduct such an in-depth examination.

twenty-nine | fluff, angst, crack ↳ it's gojo's birthday, and he can't help but reflect on what birthdays have meant to him over the years, especially the year you decide you don't really want to do anything for his birthday (but it turns out you do).

sit in my lap | fluff, crack, domesticity ↳ you and satoru take your daughter to see santa at the mall, and satoru proves that he's just as much of a match for his daughter, as he is for you.

just a little longer | fluff, angst ↳ after geto defects, you find yourself on a roof of a building wondering where things went wrong - and you're not the only one.

sweet nothing | fluff, angst ↳ satoru always comes running home to your sweet nothings -- except this time.

lower your guard | fluff, smut, au, longfic ↳ after the gojo family receives threats to their lives, you're hired to protect the heir to the company, satoru gojo - you just didn't realize how charming the rich heir would be - and just how hard it would be to resist his advances. don't want any other shade of blue but you | fluff, smut, fake dating, longfic ↳ you can't help but say yes when your longtime crush asks you to be his fake girlfriend for a year to get the gojo clan to stop arranging marriage proposals for him. but little did you know, he would be doing both of you a favor. love means to say goodbye | multi-lives au, fluff, smut, angst, jjk manga spoilers ↳ "would we love each other in every life?" it's the question you asked satoru the night before his battle, and he replied that, of course you would. but did that promise create a curse -- or were you both always cursed to begin with when it came to love? yakuza fiance (ft. suguru geto) | smut, yakuza au, fluff, threesome ↳ you had no patience for the yakuza lifestyle your grandfather had -- you wanted to live a normal life, but when it leaks that your grandfather is in talks to have you engaged to one of two yakuza heirs -- you realize you're in deeper than you thought -- especially when they both fall in love with you.

‧ ˚. SUGURU GETO

meant to be | smut, dark ↳ when Suguru defects, he asks you to come with him -- but he's not going to take no for an answer.

three's a crowd (ft. satoru gojo) | long fic, au, smut, fluff ↳ professors satoru gojo and suguru geto rarely wanted the same thing at the same time -- that was until you.

is it over now (ft. satoru gojo) | angst, fluff, smut ↳ suguru thinks the only way you'll leave him is if he lies to you about cheating on him - and it is. but turns out, you're not so easy to leave -- for him and his best friend

might hurt | fluff, crack ↳ suguru's popularity is truly a curse, especially when he gets hit on right in front of you. luckily, you both know how to handle those situations.

i just want to fuck all night | smut, fluff, sex pollen ↳ after swallowing a curse, geto finds his body in an uncontrollable state of arousal, and who better help him cure it than you?

would it be enough if i could never give you peace? | fluff, angst, smut ↳ suguru's birthday spent with you is like a dream -- the perfect day spent in bliss, but what happens when the dream has to come to an end?

yakuza fiance (ft. satoru gojo) | smut, yakuza au, fluff, threesome ↳ you had no patience for the yakuza lifestyle your grandfather had -- you wanted to live a normal life, but when it leaks that your grandfather is in talks to have you engaged to one of two yakuza heirs -- you realize you're in deeper than you thought -- especially when they both fall in love with you.

‧ ˚. KENTO NANAMI

no regrets | hurt/comfort, fluff, angst ↳ when nanami is injured from his fight with mahito, you're sent to pick him up. and both of your careful avoidance of your feelings for each other comes crumbling down.

armed and dangerous | smut ↳ nanami's arms were always so nice around your throat, but you never tried having his arm between your legs before, until.

good girls get backshots | smut ↳ nanami has always been a gentleman, but he finally decides to play rough and mark you up -- at your request.

five times nanami wanted to propose but didn't | angst, fluff, smut ↳ nanami wanted to propose to you so many times - but it was never the right time, and then, there was no time left.

best part of my day | fluff, domesticity ↳ on a bad day, you give nanami just what he needs, and remind him why you are truly the best part of his day.

all the time in the world | fluff, hurt/comfort ↳ after shibuya, nanami lets you tend to his burns and have an honest discussion about what happened there and what it means for your future. but i'm a fire (and i'll keep your brittle heart warm) | fluff, hurt/comfort, smut, au ↳ throughout your years of jujutsu tech, you take care of kento, whether its a wound from a curse or a simple cut his finger -- and when he returns he finds you still ready to take care of him -- even after shibuya.

‧ ˚. YUTA OKKOTSU

↳ coming soon :)

‧ ˚. CHOSO KAMO

it's a need | hurt/comfort, smut, fluff ↳ after you take an attack meant for him, choso can't seem to understand why -- so you show him just how important he is to you.

hey emo boy! | fluff, smut, au ↳ saw this boy at the mall last week. got the kind of look to make me freak. wanna fuck in the back of the hot topic?

best friend's brother is the one for me! | fluff, au, smut, bedsharing ↳ you've been asked whether you and yuji are together a million times - but the truth is his brother is more your type -- so what happens when you end up sharing a bed one night?

‧ ˚. RYOMEN SUKUNA

paint the town red | smut, dark, au ↳ you've always been a goody two shoes -- or so your friends say -- so what happens when you decide to do the first bad thing you've ever attempted and try summoning a demon -- and it actually works?

jealousy, jealousy | smut

which of the men whimper | smut

spooning the dilfs | fluff

jjk men and if they're good at singing | crack

househusband suguru

househusband nanami househusband gojo (1) (2) (3)

mindreader nanami

geto swallowing a aphrodisiac curse

gojo - maybe in another life

guitarist! suguru x opera singer! reader (1) (2) (3)

frat boy! suguru x nerd! reader (1) (2) (3)

curse! suguru (1) (2) (3) bringing suguru back to life

i hate it when i cant even write a poem about something because its too obvious. like in the airbnb i was at i guess it used to be a kids room cause you could see the imprint of one little glow in the dark star that had been missed and painted over in landlord white. like that's a poem already what's the point

My thighs are huge cuz they’re full of secrets

— habit

based on an ask i got but accidentally deleted by @heathertheheathen123456

cw: minors dni, fwb!, smut sorta lol

you haven’t seen him in two weeks. which some people would say is fair, he’s not your boyfriend but now you’re used to bakugou katsuki. he’s part of your routine and there’s nothing worse about having a human being as a habit. especially one that’s a professional hero.

he’s a habit that you only see at night, in your bed, sometimes your sofa when you guys can’t make it to your room. sometimes he turns up to your house freshly showered and refreshed, just to have his face between your legs and leave after. sometimes he’s tired and exhausted after work, dirt smudged on his nose and to his luck you’ll get down on your knees for him.

you usually see him twice a week but now you’re about to start clawing the walls, twitching to get this man back in your house. you’ve not seen him for two weeks now, due to simple busy schedules on both sides. you’ve even got your phone out to text a guy you were seeing before bakugou but you threw your phone back on your bed in a huff. bakugou katsuki’s dick in particular is a habit.

which is why when he’s buried deep in you, hitting your sweetest spots with your knees by your temples, you’re ready to smash the phone that keeps violently ringing on your bedside table.

the man above you groans, punctuating with a thrust that has your back arching off the bed. there’s a shiny film on his forehead from the overwhelmed, overstimulated feeling he gets from you. you’re soft, you’re beautiful, you need him. bakugou just wants to enjoy you, pleasure you and perhaps have you come on his tongue right after.

but no, his fucking work phone keeps ringing and vibrating against the wood right next to framed photo of you and your friends.

“bakugou,” you whine, extending the last syllable of his name. despite your next comment, you cling to him, wrapping your arms around his neck as he thrusts again. “answer the phone before i smash it.”

bakugou gnaws down on his bottom lip, stuffing his head in your neck to flick his hips into you. he knows what a phone call from his work phone means, he also knows it’s definitely not something he should be letting go to voicemail repeatedly. people are probably under attack somewhere but imagining pulling out you now feels close to hellish.

“for fuck sake,” he says through gritted teeth.

“i’m sorry,” you mumble mindlessly, kissing behind his ear. bakugou’s chest warms as you softly blink at him. he should be the one saying that to you.

instead he grabs the vibrating device, vividly feeling his brain switching to hero mode. he just wants a day off with you.

“what?” he growls.

your eyes widen at the voice through the receiver, you’ve never heard anyone speak to bakugou like that. perhaps maybe you once when you woke up one morning and noticed the necklace of bruises he left around your neck.

“why the fuck aren’t you picking up your phone? we need you in the east side of the city, your team’s already been dispatched,”

the voice continues ranting at bakugou and to everyone’s surprise, bakugou barely says a word. he just stares down at your face, the softness, the disappointment yet understanding in your eyes. then between your bodies, where you’re both joined. he rubs his thumb over your clit once before pulling out, snapping hard as a pole against his chest. you gasp at the emptiness but bakugou tries to make up for it covering you with a blanket and shaking his head slowly.

“yeah, i’m fuckin’ comin’. i’ll set a plan when i arrive.”

he hangs up with a sigh, rubbing his hand across his face. you linger on his muscled chest, his tense shoulders and the hard thick limb standing shiny with your slick. you guess having men as sexy as this in your bed comes with its drawbacks like him needing to save the world before either of you get to come.

“fuck, i’m sorry sweetheart,” he says and you feel molten. he pulls on his underwear, not bothering to clean you off him and yanks on his jeans. he leans over your bed, pressing a kiss to your cheek, “i can come over after if you’re not asleep or tomorrow?”

he feels as if he’s pleading, close to begging. pausing for a moment for your answer. there’s no time for waiting and he can’t seem to get that through his hero head yet. you understand the pressure though.

“probably tomorrow, no worries. it comes with having routines with proheros, right?” you smile tucking the blanket right under your chin.

he tugs on his tshirt, “okay, cool. i’ll text you.” awkwardness settles in as he walks towards your bedroom door, about to grab his boots to dart out.

“okay.” you bite down on your lip, “i’m gonna be thinking about you while i fix the problem you left.”

bakugou’s pupils darken and you notice how he grips your door frame, “don’t test me sweetheart, you know i’m still hard for you.” he grunts, “i’ll see you tomorrow.”

“see you.”

then your habit is out the door to save the city.

arrival

𝐣𝐣𝐤 𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 ⇀ smut text convos

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒. reader is referred to as “mommy” and “good girl” • paired with gojo, geto, sukuna, nanami, toji, choso, megumi and inumaki

there’s post nut clarity and then there’s post nut wtf. did that really just fucking happen?

the latter is how you feel as you stare up at the ceiling of your bedroom and feel the tear streaks drying on your face as you replay in your mind how your best friend just got done fucking you within an inch of your life after you made a cheeky remark earlier in evening.

teasing him about how over dramatic his past lovers must have been. you’ve seen this guy fumble a casual interaction checking out at the store. he’s always too oblivious when people flirt with him at bars. you’ve seen your best friend slam the door in a random cute girl’s face bc he didn’t realize there was someone else entering the building behind him.

there’s no way he has any game in bed. the few exes he briefly managed to date that always come crawling back for another chance have to be faking it to make him feel better. he’s just so…awkward.

you tell him as much one night, hanging out at your place, with a laugh and the gall to say “i bet you don’t even know how to make me feel good, and i’ve known you for years”

the next few details are a blur, but you don’t think you’ll ever get the image of your best friend’s eyes looking up at you between your thighs while he uses his mouth and tongue on you like a man starved. you were on your third orgasm when your eyes started to water from overstimulation and he just.kept.going.

you two have never minded being in each other’s space but you’ve certainly never been this close, with his forehead pressed against your own and legs thrown over his shoulders while he pounds into you at a steady pace. your breaths intermingling and it being hard to tell where one person ends and the other person begins because he’s just so damn close.

but the most shocking part that you’ll definitely be hearing again when you sleep tonight is the way he spoke to you. he touched your body so confidently and yet his words were full of praise and worship for you. thanking you for making him feel oh, so good. “so good, so so good” was his mantra. how your body is perfect and he loves making you feel good. so much in fact that you come on his cock two more times before he finished himself.

your best friend who you were so sure had no game in bed just ruined you for anyone else. and your post nut wtf moment has you realizing there’s no way you can let him do this with anyone else again.

"oh i could never date bakugo because he's too mean"

to you? mean? oh, darling, no.

the second bakugo confirms that you're his and his only, it's a one way ticket to being spoiled beyond anything you could imagine. his fight to be the best hero translates line for line into your relationship.

it's "whatever you want" mumbled after every question, it's "the fuck you think you're doing?" when you try to lift a finger toward your wallet, and it's "you drive me insane" with a scowl and smiling eyes, tugging you closer by the hip to soften his words.

trust me, you can't even go a day without him showing up in your relationship in some way. he's working late at his agency, swamped with paperwork? you're greeted in the morning with what seems to be the entire stock of the local flower shop down the street. he's sent away for a week on a mission? when your phone isn't buzzing with texts updating you (nothing too flowery, but it's enough to remind you he's thinking of you), you're eating food he's meal prepped for you or had delivered to your door. it's sunday? he's shoving your drink of choice under your nose and insisting that you spend at least an hour longer in bed.

if you're also a hero, on the streets fighting alongside him, he respects you above any other hero. if you're at home, in college or working in some other career, he's bragging to his sidekicks about how "fucking cool" whatever you're working on currently is.

and then there's the way he would never leave you with any doubts. does he suck at communicating his feelings directly? yes. without hesitation, yes. but he's there and he's blushing and spitting out assurances of his care for you until you're able to soften his jaw with time, he's never shying away from touching you to make up for where his words lack, he's playing your favorite songs in the car without having to be asked and he's always jumping at any opportunity to make your life easier.

(it helps, of course, that you spoil him tenfold by being there for him, holding his hand when nightmares prevent any further touches in the middle of the night and smiling so sweetly at him when he walks through the door to see you. i mean, how could he not adore the only person who sticks around and peeks past the vulgarity of who he is to see the good he fights so hard to maintain? something about you makes him feel human, worth emotion, worth love. he's willing to do whatever it takes to be "the fucking best at this boyfriend shit")

inumaki is literally so beautiful I'm in love with him

me too oh my god like look at this cutie

ive been reminded of my love of kyotani unfortunately

HALP

GUYS. what if fuck buddy sukuna catches you out one night, but instead of being with your friends you're on a date 👀 I think he would play it off, would definitely interrupt and make your date feel like he's about this big 🤏 in comparison. but his jealousy doesn't even show in that moment, it's only when you come over to his place next time around does he mention with the slightest pout: "why don't you ever get dolled up to see me?"

hybrid blade who is leashed in public, always. it's a rare occurrence to go out and take him with you (as he, a tall, brooding wolf hybrid becomes quite the spectacle). he doesn't fight you when you hook the leash in the ring of his collar with shaking hands. you see a flash of the tag, his name on the front, your name and contact information on the back. the metal is scratched up from how often blade fidgets with it, whether it's on or off of his neck.

however obedient blade is in private, he is a menace in public. he looms over you, lingering a step behind you, orbiting you with each step. he growls when anyone looks at you for too long. you don't need to hold the leash tight, but you wind it around your palm anyways. you worry the leather of it. you see the look blade garners, you see the looks he gives bystanders to your relationship. venemous and angry, even at a distance. god forbid they come within six feet of you.

these jaunts are kept short for your own sake.

by the time you're home, you're worn and stress from having to gently cow blade's instinct. knowing when to click your tongue when he growls, flinching when he bares his teeth at you. you end up with bruises on your wrist and waist from how he likes to touch and keep you close. it's too much, but what could you do about it? how are you to stop a wolf who has decided that you are to be the treat within his jaws at will?

blade always keeps you in bed after an outing. you're always-- so tired. blade says you smell that way. he also makes a few other barbed comments about your scent. you don't smell like you-- you smell like the stores you wandered in. the checkout clerk who brushed her fingers against yours when you handed her coins to pay for pastries and drinks for you and blade. you smell like the perfume of a well-dressed man who eyed you for too long, and walked a little too close.

blade can't have that. you know this.

he'll keep you in bed, yours or his, until he decides you smell enough like home again. his home.

oh. oh my. I am thinking about fuck buddy sukuna.

SPIDER-MAN YUUJIIIIIIIII aali aali the spider-man upside down kiss with him???? im blushing so hard

CAN YOU IMAGINE CAN YOU IMAGINE !!! standing in the rain after yuuji’s saved you, him slinking down his webs and you roll up his mask, brush your thumb over the scarred tissue at the corner of his mouth n whisper something like “i’d like to thank you…for helping me out back.”

sobs you sound so unsure of yourself when you’re usually so confident and yuuji’s heart is racing :( because usually he’d be too shy to be this close to you but he’s spiderman this time around. he doesn’t have to be nervous when you don’t know who he is.

“go ahead, don’t be shy.”

screams and then you lean in, gently pressing your lips to his — he tastes like rain and blood and a cherry chapstick that you know but have never tried. it’s soft and slow, yuuji letting you take the lead because he’s dreamed of this so many times and his heart hurts because he’s not sure if you’d ever kiss him the same way without his secret identity.

neither of you want to pull away, but you step back before you can get lost in your hero and smile. “thank you,” you whisper, pulling down his mask and pressing a kiss to his mouth over it. “for keeping me safe.”

“all in a days work.” yuuji hums, all giddy as he retreats into the night to fight crime — his only thought, making the city a safer place for you.

I need Suna rintaro to be stupid fucking sensitive.

I need him to be an absolute wreck anytime you do anything to him, just because his body is so reactive, so desperate for your touch that the smallest affection has him into a putty.

Drag your nails over his arms? He’s whining softly. Whispering in his ear? He sinks his teeth into his lip. Sponging kisses against his jaw? He angles his head shamelessly.

There’s something you do to him, there’s something about your mere existence that has him excited to no end, always ready for your intoxicating touch that has him reeling for more.

Even now, with his back pressed to your chest and your nails softly drawing over the flesh of his shoulders, he feels a pleasured trail glide up and down his spine.

He says nothing, merely melting into your touch and letting his eyes flutter close and body curl deeper against you.

But then your touch slithers down and over his abs, which tighten under your warm fingers.

“Do not,” he snarls, albeit unthreatening.

“What?”

“You know what.”

“I’m just giving my boyfriend affection.” Your nails get caught on the rim of his navel, and he feels his cock twitch. “If you can’t handle it, that’s on you.”

"You know I can't,” he whimpers as his hips chase an invisible touch, circling slightly as he looks up at you with betrayed eyes. A pressure broils in the pit of his stomach, tightening softly as your nails tease the softness of his happy trail, fingers tracing the small, thin hairs. He arches his back, pressing his shoulders against your chest, but your gentle touch still follows.

If anything, you adjust yourself to sit up straighter, and your free hand slinks down his chest to play with his nipple, and he squeezes his thighs tight.

“Awww,” you coo, and if looks could kill, you’d be dead and slumped over him. “I just love loving on my sensitive boy.”

“Don’t f-ha!- fhuuuucking, don’t call me that,” he grumbles through gritted teeth, and that only earns him a pinch of his nipple and a small tickle on his stomach.

It’s maddening, and he cries out and shrinks at the sensation.

“Behave,” you snarl. “Talk less, and feel good, baby.”

"I don't wanna come like this," he pleads. Not right now, not in his sweatpants, not under absolutely no touch to the manhood contained in his boxers and far as possible from having a reaction by your touch, not when you’re enjoying this so much it’s concerning, not now not now not now-

“You’re just too sensitive,” you sigh dramatically. Your hands gently press into the dip of his hips, making him whine at the tickly, yet relaxing sensation.

His jaw slacks to let a shuddery moan out.

“Please,” he huffs, rutting his hips upwards. His thighs are tight together, desperate to edge him to a high that you put him on. “Fuck- please, keep going-“

“I’m not even going to touch your cock and you’re going to come just like this?”

And he is. He is, he fucking is, he’s gonna paint the inside of his sweatpants like a damn virgin, all from you scratching at his happy trail and drawing your nails over the ridges of his abs. He’s going to come, come so hard he sees stars and fuck you for fucking doing this to him.

You stop.

Your hand stills, fingers stop their trailing and slowly slip over his hip, then to his chin where you pull him into a kiss. He whines and chases you into the kiss, tongue trying to hook you in deeper and coerce you into giving him more attention.

“Gonna have to condition you hate this,” you coo, sinking your teeth into the meat of his lip. “How else am I supposed to love on my man if he’s gonna paint the inside of his shorts every time?”

with a whine and a grunt of agony, he gently pulls back, burrowing into your neck to hide the embarrassment of being so close to the edge of an orgasm from sheerly being touched by the heavenly fingers adorning your body that have him in a tizzy more than enough times.

"I cant stand you," he grumbles.

"Love you too, my sensitive boy."

"Shut up!"