ᥫ᭡

𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇-𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒖𝒍𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒂 𝒓𝒐𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕

[amourle]

vi ୨ৎ . she/her , twenties , pisces

mainly writing for my hero academia, jujutsu kaisen, and haikyuu. mood writer, so please be patient as updates may be very sporadic <3

ʚ MAIN ɞ ʚ MASTERLIST ɞ ʚ FIC RECS ɞ

© AMOURLE please do not copy, modify, translate, or reupload!

[amourle]

ʚ ✉️ ⋆˚࿔ gojo satoru hadn’t intended to baby trap you, but it was his last resort at keeping you close and forever bonded to him. what he hadn’t expected was that it would all be at the price of your misery.

ᝰ . gojo × reader ⌇ wc: 2K

warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, negative perception of pregnancy & parenthood, depression, panic attack (?), lots of crying on your behalf, probs repetitive af. lmk if i missed anything 🤧

it was an accident, nothing more than a minor slip up.

at least that’s what gojo satoru kept telling himself—it was the only way he could keep the guilt at bay. if you were to ever catch wind of the truth you’d be out faster than he could convince you to stay, that much he knew. soon, the consequences of his actions would manifest themselves in the form of a crying infant that was half you and half him; a living, breathing reminder of the truth.

truth was, satoru had felt you slipping away, it was why he had done it. it was a sad attempt to keep you close and tied to him forever; to keep your hand from slipping out of his, so that he could keep you around no matter if your relationship disintegrated or not.

the news had arrived to him in the form of a phone call late one night—the night he had been away on work related terms. that night your weeping cries had broken through his silent hotel room and successfully snapped him out of his sleepy haze.

“satoru…” you said his name in that way that told him you were in trouble.

“baby, what’s wrong?” he immediately sat up, voice deep and raspy. he had remembered his heart beating wildly against his ribcage as he anticipated your response. “are you safe?”

“mhm, i just—i couldn’t sleep ‘s all,” had been your cryptic response. “can’t stop thinking.”

“i’m all ears, baby.”

there was a long pause as you seemed to gather your thoughts. you had wondered if it was even the right time to tell him. you wanted nothing more than to see his face, to watch the smile that would light up his handsome features and to see him so completely over the moon, unlike yourself.

“i don’t think i can say it,” you had whispered over the line. he threw his head back in dismay, the anticipation slowly killing him.

“you can tell me anything, baby. especially if it’s something that has you this upset.” he tried to wheedle the issue out of you.

when he had finally coaxed the news out of you, he remembered his heart dropping to the pit of his stomach—whether it was in a good or bad way, he still wasn’t sure. nevertheless, he had showered you with reassuring words and promises of taking care of you and staying no matter what—anything he could think of to keep you, but the words felt bitter on his tongue despite him meaning them with his whole heart and soul.

—

to say you weren’t self-aware would be a lie. as much as you didn’t want to be, you were aware of everything—the mood swings, how poorly you treated your boyfriend because of it, the constant aches and pains that only seemed to intensify as time passed on, and of how patient satoru had been despite it all. it all made you feel so guilty and undeserving.

how many doors had you slammed in his face? how many times had you left him hanging in favor of wallowing in your misery, soaking through the pillows and sheets with your tears? how many times had you hurled hurtful words at him when all he had wanted to do was show you some love and take care of you?

it all made you wonder if he ever felt as defeated as you did. if he ever blamed himself for your actions.

what you didn’t (and what he didn’t want you to know) was that on those nights when you’d shut him out, he’d melt into the couch cushions, pinching the bridge of his nose as he begged his brain to devise of ways that he could ease the pressure off of you to keep the feeling of being so helpless from eating him alive. all he could do in that moment was to tell himself that tomorrow would be a brand new day with brand new opportunities.

you found yourself constantly falling down the rabbit hole that was your mind. it was all so exhausting and you missed the days when you were glowing with happiness, face alight with the excitement of a brand new chapter. back when all of your worries were about trivial things (“what should we name them?” and “which theme do you think is better for the nursery?”). in your current state, those days felt as though they were few and far between.

those days had long since been replaced with the constant feeling of being trapped in an endless cycle of everything that could possibly go wrong. it formed a permanent pit of dread in your stomach, serving as a constant worry of everything that was to inevitably come.

would satoru stay through it all? of course he would, he had said so—promised you. yet, you couldn’t help but wonder if the relationship would sustain the heavy pressure of parenthood.

the ocean of your mind consumed you, rendering you completely immobile for days at a time if you were truly unlucky. those days you found yourself wishing you were able to turn back the clock.

hiding all of this negativity from your boyfriend though proved easier than you thought, long days and the constant need people had of him made it all the easier. all you had to do was paint yourself in the happiest smile you could muster when he arrived home so as to not give him a reason to worry anymore than he already did. just a few hours until we go to bed, had become your daily mantra, choosing only to dissolve the mask when you were truly at your lowest.

—

the linen sheets clung to your sweat beaded skin, the sensation sending a wave of white-hot frustration surging through your veins. the feeling of your stomach stretched uncomfortably tight and the ache in your spine only amplifying it all. fantastic, you thought, yet another sleepless night.

you were at your wit’s end, unsure of how much longer you could take it. counting down the days, you promised yourself that everything would be better if you just held on for five more weeks. yet, even then, it truly wouldn’t be over and you’d have a whole new set of problems to worry about. you were bombarded with snapshots of what was to come: sleepless nights with a crying infant, having to play the guessing game when it came to their needs, and perhaps it would even spark your first argument as parents. the room began to spin and tilt, the bile that was beginning to climb up burning your throat.

you glanced over at satoru with his limbs sprawled so that they took up most of the bed space, one of his arms thrown over your waist, hand rested on your swollen abdomen. oh, how you envied him.

gaze softening, you admired his peaceful state. no matter how hard you tried to be upset with him, you couldn’t. how could you when he was overcome with the dopiest, most lovesick grin every time he saw you? who’s eyes clouded over with all the love and admiration he had for you and his unborn child. the man who no matter how many physical and emotional changes you went through, handled it all with grace and never once resented you or took anything to heart. and who despite it all, still loved you.

you clambered out of bed as gracefully as you could manage, fed up with the fact that you couldn’t fall asleep. sleep was a rare commodity for you, it seemed. no matter which way you tossed, how many times you flipped your pillow over, or even how tight satoru held you, it was all to no avail. there was always an ache or a sudden sharp jab that would eventually jolt you awake as soon as your lids began to grow heavy with sleep. the anticipation for these sudden occurrences didn’t help your case much either.

padding over to the couch, you slumped into the cushions, sensing that the sleep deprivation was finally catching up to you. hot, angry tears streamed down your cheeks and you tried your best not to sniffle too loudly—satoru had an early schedule the following day and the last thing you wanted was for him to lose out on sleep because of you.

you buried your face into the cushions to muffle the sound of your tears, pulling your limbs close to your body in an attempt to make yourself smaller. you felt so alone in your pain and you hated it. the weeps wracked your body and you resisted the urge to just scream it all away.

“hey, what’s wrong?” satoru knelt in front of you, his hands finding their place on your upper arms where his thumbs began gently massaging the skin. the weight of his hands was grounding, successfully pulling you out of your blubbering state. “c’mon, sweets, tell me.”

his chest clenched at the faraway look in your eye when you finally lifted your head. it was as though he could finally see everything that you had been trying to hide from him—all those months of loneliness and helplessness could all be seen in those empty eyes of yours. yet with your blotchy skin, runny nose, and red-rimmed eyes he still managed to look at you as though you were the most beautiful entity.

“everything,” you finally sniffled, using the sleeves of your sweatshirt to wipe at your face. “i just want this all to be over, toru. i’m so miserable and i haven’t slept in god knows how long and, and, and,” you trailed off, choking back a sob. “everything hurts.”

“oh, sweets,” he gathered you into his arms, gently shushing you as you continued to cry—albeit this time into his t-shirt. “how long have you felt like this?” though he wasn’t too sure he wanted to know the answer.

you shook your head into his chest, not wanting to admit just how long. “toru, i don’t wanna do this anymore, i’m scared.”

his heart completely shattered at your words and he swallowed hard. how had he not noticed just how miserable and broken you had been? god, it made him feel all the more horrible. for everything. all the promises he had made you the night you had told him had all been in vain. he buried his nose into your hair, lips kissing your scalp over and over again as an apology—a sad excuse for an apology, but an apology nonetheless.

“i’m right here, baby. we’ll get through this together, i promise.”

he felt you trembling in his arms, sobs now becoming hiccups. “sa—satoru, i don’t think i can do this. i can’t do this,” you managed to choke out in between shaky breaths. your heart was racing alongside your mind now and you didn’t know how to stop it.

“hey, hey, hey. i know you can,” his voice cracked. he was trying so hard to hide his own heartache, yet despite it all his arms still held you oh so gently, so safely.

you shook your head, wet eyes staring up at him with all of your harbored fear. “i thought i could just push through and be brave for you, but i don’t think i can anymore.”

gojo so desperately wished he had the right words to put your mind at ease or the ability to make you believe his every reassurance. but all he could do in that moment was offer you a shoulder to cry on and some semblance of safety.

he placed his chin atop your head, rocking you in his arms. “you’re almost at the finish line, just hang on a little longer for me, yeah?” he swallowed thickly and in the moment he was so glad that you weren’t able to see the tears beginning to pool at his waterline, though he was pretty sure his voice had already given him away. he swallowed again. he felt sick to his stomach. “i’m sorry, i know you didn’t want this.”

note: this turned out angstier than originally intended oops

© AMOURLE please do not copy, modify, translate, or reupload!

[amourle]

ʚ ✉️ ⋆˚࿔ tsukishima kei was used to your teasing and antics, but when you accuse him of having other girls in his heart, he’s sure you’ve finally lost it. (based off this tweet)

ᝰ . tsukishima × reader ⌇ wc: 0.6K

tsukishima kei hasn’t known a moment’s peace since the minute you came stumbling into his life. everyday was something new, something interesting, something so incredibly you, and he’d be lying if he said he never looked forward to spending time with you.

sundays in your shared household were preserved for relaxing and winding down before the week inevitably began once again; before the two of you had to jump back into the cycle of adulthood.

two in the afternoon had come around quicker than anticipated, yet the two of you were still tangled up in the sheets, limbs interweaved with each other as you both respectively scrolled on your phones.

every once in a while you’d shove your phone in kei’s face, showing him some video that made you laugh, to which he’d snort before returning to his own screen.

with a sigh, you tossed your phone across the mattress, deciding that you’d had enough screen time and had become bored. laying your head on his chest, you allowed the steady rhythm of his heartbeat fill your ears, lulling you. with each beat, you tapped your finger on his chest, silently counting. his arm curled tighter around your frame, one lazy hand resting on your hip and toying with the fabric of your pajamas whilst the other continued its mindless scrolling.

too preoccupied, tsukishima was blind to the furrowing of your brows and the scrunch of your nose.

“kei, they’re laughing at me.”

there was a stutter in the steady rhythm beating against his chest. his hazel eyes pinned you over the rim of his glasses, brows furrowed in perplexity.

“who?” he finally queried.

“the girls,” your voice was meek and small as you busied yourself with tracing little swirls on his skin. “i can hear them laughing at me from inside your chest.” your eyes remained averted as you spoke, but eventually curiosity got the best of you. you peeked up at him from beneath your lashes, taking in his unamused expression.

“pfft, what girls?” he flicked your forehead as if to rid your mind of the stupid notion (albeit stupidly cute, but he’d never admit that).

you rubbed your forehead, shooting him a displeased look as you pictured the redness that would soon bloom where he struck you with those stupidly long fingers of his. composing yourself, you racked your brain for a response—you hadn’t thought this far ahead.

“…your exes,” you finally managed out.

tsukishima rolled his eyes at you, one large hand shoving you off of him as he snorted at your response. “you know i don’t have those,” he laughed.

you bit your lip, seizing the opportunity to bombard him in accusations—a favorite hobby of yours. “then why are they in there, huh? who are they? previous crushes?” you rapid fired at him, punctuating each question with a soft shove to his shoulder.

“hey!” tsukishima couldn’t help the soft chuckle that escaped his lips as he tried to catch your wrists mid action. but if there was one thing to know about your boyfriend, it was that ultimately he was the better one when it came to riling you up. “yes, and what of it?” he finally agreed to your accusations, clearing his throat and awaiting your dramatic response.

gasping, you shifted yourself into a sitting position, and this time kicking him in the thigh—not enough to actually hurt, but enough to let him know you weren’t playing around anymore.

“oh shut up, you know you’re the only girl in my heart.” the words were odd on his tongue, but true nonetheless.

you were stunned in your place, brain trying to process his words. the words replayed in your mind, a big, dopey smile stretching your lips as the phrase echoed in the chamber of your brain.

“aw, wait, kei!” you crooned, a look of utter love flooding your eyes. “that was actually so sweet!” you threw your arms around his neck, clinging to him as though your very life depended on it.

“yeah, yeah, don’t get used to it.”

© AMOURLE please do not copy, modify, translate, or reupload!

[amourle]

ʚ ✉️ ⋆˚࿔ no matter how hard you pry or how relentlessly you tease him, kirishima eijirou will never admit that you calling him cutesy nicknames gets him feeling some type of way.

ᝰ . kirishima × reader ⌇ word count: 0.7K

warnings: suggestive, make out sesh, nothing too explicit, but just to be safe mdni!

there was something so inherently attractive to kirishima eijirou whenever you would take the lead. that look that clouded your eyes, the gleam of your teeth when you smiled right before you pounced—he would have to swallow down the urge to devour you whole.

these instances were few and far between, which was what made them so exhilarating to begin with.

it was why when he found himself compliantly beneath you after a week of being away, that he whole-heartedly gave you the reins. that day, he hadn’t even made it one step in when he was already being tugged by his shirt. his eyes were wide with shock, yours dark with hunger. everything unfolded in the matter of a millisecond—how had he ended up getting pushed onto the couch? he didn’t know. the sudden boldness of your actions was staggering, but he liked it. something about the way your eyes bore into him was enough to send him reeling.

“woah there, baby,” he remarked through breathy chuckles, amused. “slow down, tiger.” his mind was calculating, trying to decide just how much he should indulge in this behavior.

with curiosity getting the best of him, he decided to let the scenario play out. his hands immediately found purchase on your hips as you climbed onto his lap, your fingers weaving themselves into the scarlet strands at the nape of his neck. a soft grunt and he was melting beneath you with every light touch and playful nip. it never took long for him to fully succumb and be at your mercy.

“missed you,” you whispered sweetly, punctuating the words each with a kiss to his eagerly awaiting lips. “so much.”

his lips chased yours, soft laments fanning your skin each time you pulled away only to be met with that doleful look of his.

you pressed yourself close to him until you were able to feel the rise and fall of his chest perfectly in time with yours. shifting your focus to feel every inch of his skin beneath your lips, you let yourself travel from his jaw, down the curve of his neck where his heartbeat pulsed rapidly, and finally to the junction of his shoulder where you then sunk your teeth into the soft flesh.

he shuddered with a soft groan, his head falling back against the cushions. his fingers dug themselves deeper into the soft flesh of your thighs, the pressure grounding you in place.

“you like that, baby boy?” the words slipped out half-mindedly, a heat of the moment type of situation.

you’d never called him anything of the like before, but the way the words rolled off your tongue so velvety and languid made the warmth in his stomach turn to molten lava. the words bounced around in his head and his bloodstream buzzed through his veins, sending him into a euphoric-like state.

you felt him twitch beneath you, his hips stuttering into yours.

“wait, you liked that?” you probed incredulously at the gratification etched onto his features. flattening your hands against his shoulders, you pulled away just enough to make eye contact, one brow quirked quizzically at him.

kirishima opened and closed his mouth, a blubbering fish pulled straight out of water at bafflement. he was a bumbling mess beneath you as he desperately tried to defend his character—his manliness—all the while you were still sat prettily on his lap, giggling at his indignity. gently, your hands pushed the hair away from his forehead in tender motions, your eyes alight and sparkling with mirth.

“did my baby boy like that?” you crooned in that obnoxious baby talk that he so desperately wanted to find annoying, but was ultimately unsuccessful in doing so. you took his chin in your hand as a way to force him to look you in the eye.

“what? no!” he deflected, neck and ears flushing as bright as his hair. he pressed his eyes shut in hopes that the action would reset everything, make it all go away (much to his dismay it didn’t, it only proved your theory correct). “this is bullying,” he finally grumbled.

you were never going to let him live it down, that much he knew. twisting his neck to free himself from your prying fingers on his chin, he huffed in faux annoyance, trying his best to play it off, but the pulsing of him straight beneath you was enough confirmation otherwise.

“oh, you were so into that, babe.”

note: so turns out i am capable of writing smth under 1k words hoorah! hope y’all enjoy this kinda short lil nibble :P

© AMOURLE please do not copy, modify, translate, or reupload!

[amourle]

your bf duties yuji post brought me so much comfort i cant even explain it its just so beautiful 😢😢

omg stop this is so sweet 🥹🫶 it makes me so glad that my silly little fic was able to bring you comfort <3

[amourle]

ʚ ✉️ ⋆˚࿔ yuji has been waiting an eternity to play the role of super awesome supportive boyfriend when you’re on your period, but unfortunately for him, you’re not the best at staying on script.

ᝰ . itadori × reader ⌇ word count: 1.7K

itadori yuji loved to be needed by you.

it was the reason why when his phone vibrated, displaying your message of “raincheck? just got my period bleh :/” he immediately ditched megumi and nobara in favor of you, tossing a fleeting “sorry guys, boyfriend duties.” over his shoulder as he made a beeline straight for the nearest corner store.

the front door to your apartment clicked open, the rustle of plastic bags breaking the otherwise silence.

“baby, i’m here! i came as soon as—” the words died on his tongue when he finally caught sight of you. you, acting completely normal and finishing up with washing some dirty dishes. he cocked his head as a confused golden retriever would, the corners of his lips tugging downwards, dispirited.

the plastic bags spilled from his arms and onto the dining table clumsily—bags that were filled with all of your favorites. snacks, drinks, a little stuffed toy that reminded him of you, and even that one particular hoodie that you always found yourself stealing from him.

yuji often fantasized about being your knight in shining armor; his mind just couldn’t help but conjure up all sorts of scenarios in which he saved you heroically. whether that be from a super outrageous situation or something as mundane as the common cold.

he had thought about this specific scenario more than he would have liked to admit. he had thought about holding you so tightly, of you burying your face into his neck when your cramps got to be too much, of him rubbing soothing circles into your skin to help alleviate the pain. he was even packed with a full arsenal of knowledge about home remedies and what foods to avoid. itadori yuji had thought of everything.

when he walked in, he had expected to find you curled up in bed beneath the covers. to which he would have climbed in next to you, whispering that he was there to make it all better (corny, he knows). yet, there you were, standing in the kitchen as though you were completely fine.

“hey…” he pouted, visibly deflated. “i thought girls typically cramped and stuff. kugisaki said so.” his voice was low, the betrayal and disappointment beginning to cloud his eyes.

turning to him, you wiped your hands with a dish towel, eyebrows knitted in confusion. “well, i mean, yeah, but they’re not too bad right now.”

your boyfriend sank to his knees, the tile cold even through the fabric of his pants. all he had wanted to do was to impress you with his innate boyfriend abilities, but all he wanted to do in that moment instead was crawl into a hole and hide.

you chuckled at his dramatics. “yuj, you’re too good to me.” you were unable to hide the small smile that crept its way onto your lips. kneeling down with him, you wrapped your arms around his frame, placing a quick peck to the corner of his mouth. “my sweet, sweet boyfriend,” you cooed, pulling away just enough to pat his cheek lovingly. “let’s go watch a movie, yeah?”

—

his eyes burned into your skull as you curled up on the couch with him. you shifted stiffly under his gaze, wondering what could possibly be going on in that brain of his. were you acting weird? did he know something you didn’t? was he plotting something, and should you be on guard? you scrunched your nose at all the possibilities, the action only causing him to lean in closer, anticipating.

“what’s wrong? anything yet?” he blurted, hovering over your body and inspecting every inch of you with his eyes. “how ‘bout now?”

you shook your head, pushing him off of you and laughing at his eagerness to serve you. it was odd, but there was also something endearing about the fact that he wanted to take care of you, of how he wanted to prove how good of a boyfriend he was.

“c’mon, babe, won’t you throw a poor guy a bone?” he whined and threw his head back against the cushions, body limp and beginning to slouch.

truly, you were feeling better than was typical for you; your body had decided to be kind this time around and kept your symptoms minimal and tolerable. but yuji didn’t know that, perhaps it would be best if you played along for just a bit without being too obvious.

“y’know, a nice cold drink sounds good right about now,” you said, tapping a finger pensively against your chin.

yuji perked up at your words, eyes lighting up with the utmost elation. “on it!” he saluted you before darting into the kitchen to dig through his corner store haul. not even two seconds later, he returned with two cans of your favorite soda, still ice cold despite them having been left on the table.

you thanked him with yet another kiss on the cheek, grabbing the can from his hands before returning your attention back to the movie on screen. somehow, you two had ended up agreeing on the longest series known to mankind, and somewhere in between the second and third movie the bright colors and rapid changing scenery had begun to make your head buzz.

that in combination with the strong vanilla candle burning on the mantle and your heightened sensitivity wasn’t the most ideal combination. the seed of a migraine had been planted and it would only go downhill from there, that much you knew. it wouldn’t be much longer before your body fully succumbed to the pain, but you also didn’t want to be a party pooper and bail out on yuji either. he was completely engrossed in the action, reacting to every scene and dramatic line.

you allowed your eyes to flutter closed, pressing the cold can of soda against your forehead in hopes of mild relief—no matter how short-lived.

what you had tried your best to make seem a casual, discreet act piqued your boyfriend’s interest. the thing about yuji was that when it came to you, he was observant and receptive. he took notice of all the subtleties—how you closed your eyes when there was a particularly bright flash, the way you kept your nose covered with the blanket, and the way you used your cold drink as a makeshift ice pack.

getting up from his seat, he extinguished the candle, placing it as far away from you as possible before clicking the television off, all while mumbling something about how that one in particular was the most boring of the series and he was tired of watching it. in truth, he wasn’t actually bored of it, but he’d never admit that to you.

when he did so, he couldn’t help but note the relieved, yet confused, look on your face. the blanket dropped from your hold and eyelids slowly fluttered open at the absence of the bright lights.

“you okay?” he knelt in front of you, the back of his hand resting on your forehead to check for fever.

you nodded, eyes closing once more. “mhm,” you hummed and leaned into his touch as his hand drifted from your forehead down to cup your cheek, his thumb rubbing gently at your cheekbone.

“i’ll be right back,” he whispered, lips finding their way to your forehead.

you listened as his footsteps faded away into the other room—the kitchen most likely—until the sound of his steps grew closer and once again he was kneeling before you. this time, however, with a glass of water and a small bottle of your preferred painkillers.

sitting up—hair disheveled and all—you took the pills, chasing them down with the glass of cold water. you had barely set the glass down when yuji hooked his arms underneath your legs and carried you into the bedroom. the bedroom where he had unmade the bed and drew all the curtains shut so it was as dark and comfortable as possible.

“just call if you need me, okay?”

you lied still as he walked out, not daring to move a muscle until you were able to hear him rustling around in the living room, cleaning up after all the snack wrappers and whatnot. your head went dizzy the moment you stood, but you did your best to power through and stumbled your way through the creaking door and into the hallway.

“yuj…?” you called out softly.

the rustling ceased. “hey, baby, what’s up?” he poked his head into the hallway where he caught you standing with a blanket around your shoulders.

“get in here and cuddle with me.”

a boyish grin that quickly evolved into a full-fledged cheshire cat smile stretched its way onto his lips. he didn’t waste a moment more, his body moving of its own volition, arms briskly sweeping you off your feet—as gently as he could muster so as to not aggravate your delicate state—before taking you back to bed.

his arms were strong around you as he shifted to fit himself against your body, chests pressed together and legs intertwined, before cocooning the both of you beneath the covers. his head dipped low, his lips finding purchase on your bare shoulder where the warmth seemed to seep straight through his lips and into his veins.

lacing your fingers with his, you brought his hand up to cradle the back of your head. you didn’t have to say anything for him to catch on, he immediately knew what you wanted and he would gladly give it to you. with his fingers massaging your scalp, you allowed yourself to relax under his touch, a small sigh slipping its way past your lips.

somewhere between yuji’s light touches and the painkillers taking effect, you found yourself nuzzling deeper into the cotton of his t-shirt, the smell of his detergent mixed with his natural scent making your eyelids heavy and lulling you in and out of consciousness.

“i got you,” he murmured, chin resting atop your head and arms pulling you in impossibly closer, his fingers never once daring to stop their caressing.

and though you were in pain and he hated that, a small, teeny tiny, little part of him was content enough with the fact that he got to fulfill some of his long anticipated boyfriend duties. even if not everything had played out the way he had originally imagined.

© AMOURLE please do not copy, modify, translate, or reupload!

[amourle]

ʚ ✉️ ⋆˚࿔ nanami deserved to reap the consequences of his actions. his punishment? being left high and dry. (18+ MDNI!)

ᝰ . nanami × reader ⌇ word count: 2.3K

warnings: afab/fem!reader, seggs 🫣, oral (receiving), dry humping, nanami pathetically begging and you denying him pleasure :)

“my love, you’re upset with me…”

it wasn’t much of a question rather than a statement. nanami kento leaned against the doorframe of your shared bedroom, toned arms crossed over his chest and hazel eyes pinning you in place. you were upset. and more so now that he was only just starting to put the puzzle pieces together. you thought that your icy and dismissive demeanor would have tipped him off sooner, but perhaps later was better than never.

however, nanami had felt the shift—as soon as he walked through the front door, actually. he knew from the moment your lips had barely brushed his in greeting—you were usually one to give him two full kisses, if not more depending on how affectionate you were feeling; he knew by the way you immediately excused yourself after pouring him a steaming mug of chamomile tea—which was bitter, mind you—with a dispassionate peck to his temple and the light, barely there brush of your hand on his shoulder.

later that night (after he had downed the rest of your bitter tea) he had caught you in the midst of your nighttime routine. you had been taking off your jewelry when he walked in, dropping first your wedding band and then your engagement ring into the little glass dish. he couldn’t help but wince at the sharp clink, the sound of the metal hitting the glass was grating to his ears and the sight of your bare finger didn’t help much either. you were doing it on purpose to get a rise out of him, he knew you were, but he refused to give in. he knew what it was that you wanted and he didn’t quite want to give in to you just yet.

unscrewing the lid to your hand cream, you made a show of squeezing a blob onto the back of your hand, making sure to take your time in working it into your skin all while eyeing your husband down in as intimidating a manner as you could muster. the silence was suffocating; you wanted him to squirm beneath your gaze, to be the one to cave in first.

a soft hum vibrated low in your throat, an agreement to his previous statement, as you finally averted your gaze. now, you didn’t dare to look at him. instead, you just continued on with your routine as if he wasn’t even in the room to begin with.

“c’mon, honey, i don’t wanna play this game,” he sighed while pushing himself away from the doorframe to follow you over to where you plopped yourself on the bed and grabbed your novel from the night stand, pretending to busy yourself with leafing through the pages. “tell me so i can fix it.” his eyes were pleading pools of amber as he sat down beside you. he held your hand, rubbing soft circles in hopes that it would coax you into revealing your mind.

“you really don’t know?” the syllables spoken were soft, barely a whisper. with a long sigh you placed the book face down on the night stand before redirecting your attention back to your husband. “kento, we were supposed to have dinner with gojo and his partner tonight,” you said. your face was placid, lips tight. “do you know how embarrassed i was?”

nanami’s insides froze and his tongue felt as though it were a giant sponge in his mouth; he was rendered speechless. he flopped back onto the mattress, hands moving to cover his stress stricken face. “honey, i am so sorry.”

he wished he had a valid excuse for you, something to make him feel like he wasn’t the world’s worst husband, but he didn’t.

“please, let me make it up to you.”

“kento, it’s fine. you’re busy, i get it.” you tried to brush it off, forcing a tight lipped smile onto your face, but he knew you better than that. he could sense the defeat—no, the disappointment—in your voice, and could see the sadness that clouded your eyes even in the dim lamplight.

“but it’s not fine.” his hand moved down the curve of your waist to rub softly at your hip, those eyes of his boring straight through you. “please, just let me.”

if there was one thing about your husband it was that his movements were always swift and calculated with precision. one moment he was tenderly caressing your hip, deft fingers toying with the satin of your night dress, and the next his arms were underneath your thighs and tugging you down under him. a sharp huff of surprise escaped you, eyes wide with shock at his sudden boldness.

“ken, what’re you—” the words were cut short from his lips crashing into yours. starry eyed and mind a static blank, your body could think of nothing else to do but follow his lead as he gripped your thigh and hiked it around his hip.

every ounce of remorse he could muster was injected into that kiss—every emotion bled through; it was in the way his tongue gently pressed against your bottom lip, pressing apologies into every inch of skin he could reach, hoping it would seep into your veins and convince you to forgive him, and it was in the way he held you so tightly as if you might just disappear on him. he wanted you to feel every ounce of his regret and woe in your very veins.

his lips left yours, pulling away just enough so he could cup your cheek. the metal of his wedding band was cool against your skin. “i’m sorry,” he murmured, placing a quick peck to your lips. he placed another one to the corner of your mouth, one on your cheek, then your jaw, down the column of your throat, and down the valley of your breasts, punctuating each kiss with a lamenting “i’m sorry.” or a rueful “forgive me.” all until he was right where he intended to be.

there was a shiver that trickled down your spine at the sensation of his warm breath between your legs. his name fell from your lips in soft, tumbling sighs as he pressed sloppy kisses to the insides of your thighs, pulling the plush skin between his teeth to knead berry colored bruises. you writhed beneath him in hopes that the movement would bring his lips closer to where your body ached for him the most. an anguished “kento,” rolled off your tongue, brows pinching in annoyance at his deliberate sluggishness.

“patience, love,” he hushed you, one large hand pressing your pelvis down into the mattress. he found it pesky whenever you tried to rush his worshipping.

your night dress was pushed over your waist, silky fabric bunching up in warm glimmering waves around your hips to grant him better access to you. his movements were slow and tender as he dipped nose first into your drooling heat. his tongue lapped at your folds, the milky dewdrops falling in pearl-like beads, sweet and pure against his tongue. his lapping grew greedier, messier, his nose hitting the sensitive bud of nerves to amplify the pleasure building up within you.

your hand lied limp over your abdomen, face scrunched and teeth bared as you tried your best to hold out for him—to make the pleasure last as long as possible. but with the way he was moaning out encouraging words into you made it damn near impossible. one more breathy “just like that, sweetheart.” or “doing so well for me.” and you were sure you were going to go off the deep end.

the taste of you was enough to get him drunk, enough to shut his mind off and water him down to the very instincts of man. what once started off as slow and tender soon became gluttonous and possessive. his tongue jutted deep inside you, pausing only to briefly nip at the swollen bundle of nerves he never seemed to neglect. nanami kento was exactly where any man dreamed of being and he had every intention in savoring every last dripping moment.

it didn’t take much longer until he had you climbing up, up, up. until you were tottering at the peak of your pleasure, that coil of rope suddenly beginning to fray and the fibers breaking off until you were holding on by a thread. fisting one hand into his sandy locks, you tried your best to balance on the edge for as long as possible, only giving in when the fiber within you had become as fine as a strand of hair and finally snapped. the sensation of the aftermath then washing over you like a warm ocean wave.

“give me one more, sweetheart,” he uttered breathlessly against your trembling thighs. he nosed your leg gently, placing a quick kiss there before dipping his head once more and burying his tongue into your sensitive core.

you lifted your head up only to throw it back against the pillow at the sight of your love drunk husband buried between your legs. “ken, please… give me a min—” the words were left unfinished, dissipating into the air as he took advantage and brought you back up to your peak, working at you until your inner rope frayed once more, back arching as it disintegrated within you and you came undone for him once more.

nanami paused, glancing up to witness the sight of you coming down from that high mountain top. your chest was heaving, the beginnings of sweat starting to crystallize on your skin, and your arm was thrown over your forehead as you waited for the dizzying sensation to ebb away. leg slipping down from his shoulder, your thighs drew themselves inward instinctively as if to protect your aching self from the greedy man before you.

crawling back up to you, nanami slid himself effortlessly between your legs, his lips capturing yours hungrily. the taste of you was still heavy on his tongue and it invaded your mouth the more he deepened the kiss, wet tongue gliding over your molars and ruthlessly exploring every crevice of you until no stone was left unturned. the rigidness of his bulge pressed heavily against your still fluttering pelvis as he left open mouthed kisses on your jaw and neck, his hips rocking into you slowly, torturously. even through the fabric of his pants you felt every pulse and twitch against against you and it drove you damn near to the edge of madness. you curled your fingers into his nape, the action stuttering the rutting of his hips and coaxing a sharp, grumbled “mmh,” from him.

you propped yourself onto your elbows in hopes of turning the tables, waiting like a cat ready to pounce on its prey. you leaned your body over his until you were able to swing your legs over his still clothed lap, all while taking care to not once break the kiss. the fact that he was throbbing beneath you was difficult to ignore, the pressure arousing a fluttering butterfly in your lower stomach. brain muddled with desire, you wanted so much to forgive him for his wrongdoings, to have him bury himself so deeply inside of you, but you couldn’t. the little devil on your shoulder kept your head on straight and your eyes on the prize.

he groaned—a rumbling breath of an exhale from deep within his chest—as you pressed yourself harder against his aching lap. desperate for friction, he wasted no time in squeezing your hips, strong hands forcing you to rock against him to satisfy his burning desire.

“my love, plea—please,” he suspired. his breath was warm against your jaw as he placed weak little kisses to your skin. you watched through heavy lidded eyes as his adam’s apple bobbed in his throat when he swallowed—hard—at the pressure of you on top of him. he was coming undone right before your very eyes and you had barely even touched him. “i need you.”

you sat back on his lap, drinking in the sight before you: the man who had so mindlessly forgotten about you and your plans completely disheveled and groveling beneath you. his usually neat exterior was now unkempt—his typically starch white shirt wrinkled and unbuttoned, trousers creased and strained tight around his crotch, and his blond hair unruly and falling over his eyes. truly, it was a sight to behold.

“hm, i don’t know, ken, you did upset me today.” you tapped your finger against your chin in feign thought.

twisting your hands into the fabric of his shirt, you pulled his lips back up to yours. the action took him by surprise, but only for a split second before he was melting into the kiss, his hands moving to press you into him as tightly as possible, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip in desperation.

“ah, ah, ah,” you reprimanded, one palm pressing to his chest to pin him in place. he chased your lips mindlessly when you leaned in (to which you expertly avoided. you knew his games and you didn’t want to fall victim to his persuasive mouth yet again) once more to plant a simple peck to his cheek before promptly rolling off of him. “goodnight, ken.” you smiled sweetly, burying yourself underneath the covers before reaching over to switch off the bedside lamp.

you tried your best to suppress the giggle bubbling up in your chest at the sound of your husband’s defeated groan from beside you.

“and ken?” you whispered, body still facing away from him.

“yes, darling?” the words came out thin and strangled as he awaited your response, hoping, praying that you would be so kind as to show him some semblance of mercy.

“i sure hope you do not plan on making it up to gojo in the same way.”

note: first time posting smut, so if it sucks save me the embarrassment and do NOT let me know 😭🙏

© AMOURLE please do not copy, modify, translate, or reupload!

[amourle]

ʚ ✉️ ⋆˚࿔ prohero!bakugou wasn’t immune to getting roughed up, but he didn’t mind too much. especially not when he had you to patch him back together.

ᝰ . bakugou × reader ⌇ word count: 2K

warnings: mentions of blood & wounds, swearing, maybe a lil ooc 🤏

the glow emanating from the television screen was hazy, casting your face and the living room in dancing blue shadows as you sat on the edge of your seat. your hands were clutched in a white knuckled grip beneath your chin as you watched pro hero dynamight get throttled to and fro by his opponent. you knew better than to worry yourself sick; he always came out on top just as he had always promised you before he left every morning. though your brain knew everything would play out in his favor, your heart couldn’t help but squeeze at the gruesome sight before your eyes.

—

the soft click of the lock was what broke you from your mind’s iron grasp. there was the sound of a pair of less than gracious feet stumbling heavily before a thump and breathy “shit!” that redirected your attention away from the dinner plate in front of you.

the sight you were met with when you rounded the corner was something rare—it wasn’t your cocky boyfriend with a prideful grin plastered on his face excited to tell you about how he absolutely demolished some lowly villain—no, it was different. you could tell he had been run ragged with the way he used the wall for support as he kicked off his boots. his hero costume didn’t look any better, either; the fabric was mangled and blood was beginning to soak through the torso. whether it was his blood or someone else’s, you didn’t know and you didn’t have the stomach to ask.

worst of all was his face. the sight of the bruises beginning to bloom purple and blue on his cheeks along with the cuts running across the expanse of his face made your stomach twist in knots, your heart dropping into the depths of your stomach.

“oh my god, katsuki!” the sound of his name falling urgently from your lips in such a disquieted manner caused him to wince as you scrambled towards him. immediately, your hands found their place on his bicep as you attempted to to use all the strength you could muster to help steady him.

his eyes were softer than you were used to, tired even. “relax, it looks worse than it feels.” he tried his best to shoot you what he thought was a reassuring smile, but was obviously a coverup in the way it didn’t quite reach his eyes and immediately twisted itself into a slight grimace.

bakugou katsuki could practically see the cogs turning in your brain, piecing together all he left untold and inching you closer towards the truth: the truth being that he wasn’t actually fine, that the pain was beginning to sear white-hot and pierce straight through him, leaving him with the feeling that he was about to be split in half. the exhaustion was beginning to catch up to him, too. it found purchase as a dull ache deep in his bones, settling there like a creature in repose. sometimes he despised that you were able to read him so well. he hated that he couldn’t hide from you—worst of all, that he couldn’t conceal how weak he was.

the moment the realization set into you was obvious: eyes hard set, nostrils flaring, and the steam radiating off of you in pillowy plumes. it was a blinding flash and whether it was rage or worry, he did not know. bakugou braced himself, ready to shield himself from the less than pretty words that were about to be hurled at him like knives.

he knew you hated seeing him like that—you’ve mentioned it every time, actually, and sometimes even on the brink of tears—all torn apart and practically falling apart at the seams. the worst part, however, was that he completely understood. he never once blamed you for becoming angry at his recklessness. hell, if it was you in his position he’d feel the exact same way, but he would rather it be him handling all the pain than you. not because he thought you were weak, god, no. there was just no plausible reason as to why you should put yourself in harm’s way. not while he was there at least.

your scolding, however, was cut short when you glanced up at him and instead noticed the steady trickle of blood that spilled from his torso, down his leg, and finally dripped into the beginnings of a little puddle on the floor just beneath his feet.

“fuck, fuck, fuck. you’re gonna bleed out and it’s all gonna be my fault,” the words came tumbling out, frenzied and jumbled by your racing mind as you willed yourself to do what felt like a million things at once—curse yourself for not noticing sooner, trying to remember where you had last left the first aid kit, and trying to decide which wounds deserved to be tended to first.

seizing his hand, you practically dragged him through the house and into the bathroom, not bothering to pay any mind to the fact that he was leaving little ruby droplets on the carpet. that would have to be dealt with later; later when the adrenaline was extinguished from your veins and your mind was sober.

in one swift motion you hoisted yourself up onto the bathroom counter where your shaky hands began to rummage through the first aid kit (which you had found in the first location you checked much to your relief) and began lining up the supplies for quick access. meanwhile, bakugou slowly began shedding his hero costume piece by piece—starting with his gloves and gauntlets, and until he was half naked and standing in between your legs. he observed the way you prepared everything in that calm manner, but even then he could still see straight through you. he saw it in the way your brow was creased in concentration and in the way your lips were pressed in a tight line.

in as much pain as he was in, he couldn’t help but let his mind wander to how lucky he was to have you. sure, he could’ve gone to the hospital like any normal person would, but something about the intimacy of having you patch him back up kept him from doing so.

“you sure you’re okay to stand?” you were about to ramble on some more about how you could switch locations, maybe the dining room where he could sit and be more comfortable, but your string of thoughts was interrupted by a low, but approving grunt in response.

“‘m fine, jus—just do your thing.” his words were lazy, slurred almost, and you could tell he was beginning to lose the energy to banter with you. he squeezed his eyes shut, the room becoming heavy with silence as you both waited for the bout of pain to wash away.

swiftly, you tossed him a towel to press to the gash that sliced across his ribs while you got to work on his face. dampening a wash cloth you began working away at the caked up blood and grime that clung to his wounds. the cloth soon began to flourish with a dark burgundy stain the more you worked away at his skin. the color made your stomach twist and churn, a lump beginning to materialize in your throat. by the end of it you were left with a clean slate and a clear view of the fresh cuts that were now a raw rosy color against a canvas of pale skin.

you placed a steady hand on his cheek, eyes gazing oh so softly into his own tired ones. “hold still for me, okay?” the gesture was so tender, so much so that he couldn’t keep his own heart from fluttering wildly, yet he found the strength deep within himself to nod sleepily and encourage you to continue your regimen. “god, you’re gonna be the death of me, you know that?” the words were muttered softly under your breath, not really intended for him to pick up on, but how could he not when your face was literally mere inches from his own?

“and you’ll be mine if you don’t quit starin’,” he grunted through clenched teeth.

you sighed, “katsuki, you don’t have to hide your pain from me, y’know.”

his eyes snapped up to yours, but you were avoiding his gaze and instead busied yourself with mending the little carvings that littered his face. he couldn’t help but focus his attention on the concentration that overtook your features, you almost looked like a completely different person when you were in the zone—brows pulled together, tongue sticking slightly out as though it aided in keeping your hand steady—it was the thing that kept him from ruminating in the pain and that kept him from responding to your previous words. he loved seeing you like that, it was what kept him going to you first. seeing you care for him in such a soft, gentle manner told his hesitant heart that you did care for him, and it faded all the doubts his malevolent mind conjured up.

finally, you directed your attention to the bigger of the cuts—the one that ran from just below his eye and straight down to the edge of his jaw. the moment you lifted the cotton pad soaked with antiseptic you knew it was going to sting like hell, but you held your breath and continued anyway. perhaps your mistake was beginning at the top right beneath the sensitive cushion of his under eye, and as light and gentle as you were it still elicited a sharp hiss from him. one of his hands flew to press a cool palm over his eye while the other one held your wrist steady, keeping the cotton away while he recovered from the blinding pain.

there was another moment of silence as you waited for him to release your wrist and give you the queue to continue on. after what felt like minutes, his hand finally released you, the hand in question now sliding to rest heavily on your thigh, large and warm even through the fabric of your pants. you took the gentle squeeze as your go-ahead, hesitantly dabbing at his face once more. you pulled your lip between your teeth, rolling the soft flesh as you continued on with your work. and this time bakugou katsuki made sure he didn’t flinch or show any sign of pain.

you didn’t know when or how or why, but somewhere along the stretch of time (that felt like hours when in reality it had been only minutes) your vision had become glassy, eyes hot with brimming tears. those same hot tears that had begun to tumble down your cheeks until the face in front of you was swimming in a milky haze. the lump in your throat had then become a piercing viper, constricting your throat and keeping all air from swelling your lungs.

“hey,” he whispered, holding your hand steady—it was a tone of voice he rarely used, one that was meant only for you. “you’re doing great.” he tried his best to soften his gaze, shooting you a small yet reassuring grin.

you sniffled before giving into your instincts and threw your arms around his neck, burying your face into his shoulder. your tears were hot against his bare skin and they trickled down his chest in lazy little streams. “i hate seeing you like this,” you managed to choke out eventually.

his hand left your thigh to instead curl around your trembling frame, holding you flush against his body. “i know,” he said and his hand snaked up to cradle the back of your head where he found his fingers gently sinking into the tendrils of your hair and massaging your scalp in what he hoped was a soothing manner. dipping down, he buried his nose into your hair where a whisper of a kiss brushed the wispy strands near your temple. he wanted to say more, to reassure you that everything was going to be fine, that he was going to be fine, but he found the words stuck in his throat like large skipping stones. god, he sucked at this.

“i really scared ya, huh?” another soft whisper of a kiss to your temple and this time you nodded into his shoulder, pressing yourself deeper into his warmth like you were looking to fuse your body with his.

“you’ll pay me back handsomely, won’t you, dynamight?”

he chuckled, rough and breathy against your hair. “you know i always do.”

© AMOURLE please do not copy, modify, translate, or reupload!

[amourle]

ʚ ✉️ ⋆˚࿔ you rope your boyfriend into opening blind boxes with you on camera, and he’s not too happy about it.

ᝰ . bakugou × reader ⌇ word count: 1.4K

if there was one thing your boyfriend didn’t consider himself, it was being a pushover. when it came to bakugou katsuki’s whims, they were done on his own accord. he never bothered himself with worrying about what others around him thought or wanted. his thoughts, opinions, and whims were set in stone. at least, that’s what he told himself.

but things were different when it came to you. he found himself allowing you to chip away at him until you were able to coax him out and mold him into compliance. bakugou was all bark and no bite when you would take his hand and lead him to wherever it was your heart desired—the café down the block, the park where you enjoyed tossing seeds for all the little critters, or even your favorite store where he’d trail after you for hours, huffing and puffing at your lack of urgency when it came to browsing. he swore you did it on purpose, torturing him until your fingertips had brushed every item the shop had to offer.

the mall a few towns over had just announced the grand opening of a brand new store—their specialty? an array of blind boxes and trinkets that were right up your alley.

“we’ve gotta go!” you gripped your boyfriend’s arm and shook him excitedly from your place next to him on the couch. it was only early afternoon, still plenty of time for a little adventure and mini road trip.

“tch, oh yeah? and what’s in it for me?” he asked you with that look of faux annoyance he always seemed to adopt—and that you’ve become so familiar with—whenever you suggested anything. “i’m not driving forty five minutes for your stupid gambling addiction.”

one thing about bakugou, though, was that he was easy to melt. a kiss here, a little nip there, or a quick flash of your eyes through your lashes and he was like molten lava in your hands—hot and scalding, yet fluid enough to mold to your wishes. he grumbled under his breath in defeat when he was the first to break eye contact.

“get in the car before i change my mind.”

he didn’t need to tell you twice before you were kissing his cheek gleefully and skidding to grab your shoes and wallet, and bounding out the door to where his vehicle sat in the driveway of your shared home. behind you, bakugou made sure to move at a snail’s pace, taking his time in slipping his shoes on and collecting his going out necessities before finally sauntering after you, hands deep in his sweatpants pockets acting as though he didn’t have a care in the world.

at the mall, the blind box shop was full to capacity. there was a mass of customers browsing and scrambling to get their hands on the most popular items. hands reached over your head, grappling at the shelves. you found yourself constantly dodging and swerving from something. behind you, bakugou played the role of your guard dog, one hand on your waist at all times just in case he quickly needed to steer you in the opposite direction of careless customers or to keep you from colliding with displays. he didn’t rush you, but his looming presence and the growing influx of people inspired you to quickly find your items and go.

one hour and two overpriced blind boxes later, you finally made it back to the car safely and in one piece. immediately, you set up your phone on the dashboard to record an unboxing video. there was a wide smile on your face as you hit record and giddily showed the camera the shopping bag that contained two matching blind boxes—one for you and one for katsuki that you had bought as a peace offering and apology for making him drive and suffer the tsunami of people in the busy shopping center.

you paused briefly as katsuki settled himself into the driver’s seat, hips shifting until he was relaxed and able to lean in to rest his elbow on the center console so that he was in frame. it wasn’t long before he opted to cross his arms over his broad chest and quirking an eyebrow in your direction as if to ask what the hell you were doing.

he listened to you ramble on and on about how you were so over the moon because the store had had the exact brand and series you were looking for. you were all smiles and excited giggles whereas your boyfriend—unbeknownst to you in the moment—had been discreetly flipping off the camera, pink tongue poking out of his stupid shit eating grin because he knew you were oblivious to it all.

“we drove forty five minutes for this crap, by the way.” bakugou cut in with a huff. the expression quickly faded though when you offered him one of the blind boxes with a dopey grin on your lips. you watched as his eyebrows furrowed at your offering, yet he took it without question. albeit a bit hesitantly, but your offer was accepted nonetheless. a quizzical look made its way onto his face as he examined the characters on the box; and it wasn’t even a second after when he was already tearing at the cardboard tab with his teeth like an animal, spewing it out with a cocky grin on his lips.

your hand immediately flew to gently clutch his wrist. “wait! you’re supposed to tell us which ones you want first!” the sudden touch stopped him dead in his tracks, the sealed pouch falling back into the box with a rustled plop. his red eyes watched you from beneath his lashes, the look enough to cause your fingers to slip off his wrist and your cheeks to flush warm.

he exhaled loudly as though you were asking him for a tedious favor. the box shifted carefully in his hands, and you watched as he examined the choices, weighing out his options thoroughly.

“where’re all the good options?” he scoffed finally, eyebrows creasing in thought as he continuously scanned down the row of choices, flipping the box over again and again as though there were other hidden choices printed on the box. “uhm, this one, i guess.” he shoved the box at the camera, pointing at his final decision.

bakugou sat back when you started to ramble about your thought process to the camera—which ones you liked, which ones you wouldn’t like, as well as other tidbits and opinions. all the while, katsuki had his head tilted back against the headrest, a look of feign boredom evident on his features. he had even made it a point during your rant to slowly drag a hand down his face in mock pain.

“okay, okay, let’s open them together on the count of three!” you beamed as your fingers quickly ripped the tab to reveal the plastic pouch that contained your prize. “one, two, three!” you closed your eyes as you popped the bag open, reaching in to fish out your surprise plushie. a soft hum of excitement slipped past your lips as your hands blindly tried to figure out which option you had pulled.

there was a moment of silence as you took in the plush you were holding up. your brows furrowed, lips immediately pouting at the little creature you were holding up. “aw, what?!” you groaned as you held up the one option you didn’t want.

next to you, bakugou was choking back laughter as he held up his own plush—his plush that just so happened to be your top pick.

he watched as you visibly deflated in your seat, sliding down in exaggerated sadness until you were out of frame and he continued to laugh at your misery. with how dramatic you were, he was practically able to see the little rain cloud forming over your head. the pout never once left your lips as you continued to stare meekly at the ugly little thing.

there was a beat of silence as you marinated in your disappointment, yet in that moment, the camera was able to capture katsuki rolling his eyes before nonchalantly shoving his plush in your hands and trading it for yours.

“tch, and don’t say i never do nice shit for you, idiot.” his hand reached over the center console to scruff your hair, only to then give your head a gentle, loving shove. all the while, his other hand was reaching over to cover the camera, his attempt only half successful as the recording still caught him leaning in to place a quick kiss on your forehead.

© AMOURLE please do not copy, modify, translate, or reupload!

[amourle]

୨ৎ . a collection of works featuring characters from my hero academia, jujutsu kaisen, and haikyuu.

requests: CLOSED

* ALL CHARACTERS AGED UP/POST TIMESKIP

୨ৎ . MY HERO ACADEMIA

blind boxes (k.bakugou); fluff | 1.4K

you rope your boyfriend into opening blind boxes on camera with you and he’s not too happy about it.

hurt (k.bakugou); angst | 2K

prohero!bakugou wasn’t immune to getting roughed up, but he didn’t mind too much. especially not when he had you to patch him back together.

baby boy (e.kirishima); suggestive | 0.7K

no matter how hard you pry or how relentlessly you tease him, kirishima eijirou will never admit that you calling him cutesy nicknames gets him feeling some type of way.

୨ৎ . JUJUTSU KAISEN

baby trapped (s.gojo); angst | 2K

gojo satoru hadn’t intended to baby trap you, but it was his last resort at keeping you close and forever bonded to him. what he hadn’t expected was that it would all be at the price of your misery.

high and dry (k.nanami); smut | 2.3K

nanami deserved to reap the consequences of his actions. his punishment? being left high and dry.

boyfriend duties (y.itadori); fluff | 1.7K

yuji has been waiting an eternity to play the role of super awesome supportive boyfriend when you’re on your period, but unfortunately for him, you’re not the best at staying on script.

୨ৎ . HAIKYUU

the other girls (k.tsukishima); fluff | 0.6K

tsukishima kei was used to your teasing and antics, but when you accuse him of having other girls in his heart, he’s sure you’ve finally lost it.

© AMOURLE please do not copy, modify, translate, or reupload!