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kenforty

𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒌 𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑶𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆

⚘ Pairing: Bakugou x reader

⚘ Summary: Bakugou tries to figure out why you work so hard while you try to live a quiet life.

Usually people don't plan their own birthday parties, but this really wasn't just your birthday, Shindo had finally entered the hero rankings, and to you that was a big achievement.

The cake although small, still had lots of embellishments made of chocolate, each one something he loved. You had been excited, bouncing around the tiny one bedroom apartment, having decorated the living room to the best of your abilities you waited for him to come home.

Shindo had been your best friend since kindergarden, always having looked after you, he was 4 years older than you, your parents being neighbours really added onto your friendship.

He had a quirk, you didn't, that didn't matter, at least not to you, he went to U.A. while you prepared for local colleges, it was difficult initially, he was working as a rookie, barely meeting ends, while you had just started college, when you suggested to move in together, you both got a apartment together just before your nineteenth birthday.

Maybe you were blinded by your feelings for him, but somewhere along the way you had failed to realise that maybe this really wasn't the Shindo you grew up with, he worked 4 days a week, his patrol hours merged into those 4 days, rest he spend at clubs, bars and other places where he could mask the smell of rotting soul with liquor.

One of your friends had suggested you work at one of the clubs you attended, said it was an easier way to earn money. Shindo knew about this offer, and he was the one to encourage you to get this job, especially considering you lacked a quirk, people like you, don't usually get chances like this after all.

Majority of people wanted to see the bartender or dancer with some or the other flashy quirks, if you were being honest, that department also preferred people that had quirks.

So, you get that job, work as a bartender first, then as an dancer, though you knew going further would increase you pay 10-folds, you still refused any other offers, the owner was kind enough to not push you too much, even keeping an eye out for you, making sure no creeps made you uncomfortable.

For one thing that Shindo was right, it was the pay, college became easier when you only had to spend 4 hours at one job instead several hours at 2 separate jobs, you could afford rent, afford your degree, afford groceries, maybe you hated yourself a little, maybe you hated not having a quirk but at least you could afford to live.

Shindo doesn't show up that day, the icing melting off the cake, dinner cooled to the core, all the decor you put up for him, seemed like a little pity party for yourself.

You make an excuse on his behalf, he must have gotten busy, he was a hero afterall, one of the top heroes now, he probably wanted to come but couldn't make it.

So, you rub your eyes, hoping to clear up your vision, and clean around the house, he'll come tomorrow to a clean house, you'll congratulate him then.

Unfortunately, he doesn't come home the next day or the day after, or even weeks later, all you end up getting is a text, saying that he is sorry, you only see him in billboards, on t.v. screens, no longer in person, he becomes a stranger.

You see him again, a month later, at the club, surrounded by his friends, celebrating another achievement you suppose. As much as you try to avoid him, you couldn't, not when you almost ran into him.

"Fancy running into you," he gloats, before continuing, "here." As if he wasn't aware of your predicament.

"I work here, Grand, have been for almost a year." You wish your voice did quiver, wish you could handle his presence with ease.

You knew he was an asshole, but he was your friend too, you shouldn't have been so disposable to him. Feeling your eyes gloss over, you turn to leave the counter, few minutes worth of break won't really put the club out of business.

"Hey!" Shindo follows you out, his bigger steps helping him easily crowd you into the hallway.

"What do you want, Shindo?" You sob out, back of your hand pressed tightly against your eye, only managing to smear your tears.

There was no good excuse to justify his behaviour, Shindo knows that much, cutting off all contacts with you abruptly just because he didn't see you fit in his new circle was a shitty thing to do.

Hero rankings is a twisted concept, although multiple informative outlets and news sources claim that these are based solely on work of hero on the field everyone knows it's all about popularity, who has more endorsement, who participated in more ad campaign, whose face is more often planted on the Billboard.

Maybe, seeing his face so often without yours really made me think he was better off without you.

"I wanted to explain myself." He doesn't believe his own words, deep down he knows he fucked up when he assumed that you'll always be around, even when he wasn't.

Your eyes narrowed, cheeks flushed red as big tears dribbled down, "I don't want it." There is defeat in your voice, maybe he beg his way back in your life. "I don't want anything," you breathe, philtrum glossy with tears and runny nose, "I don't want you, I don't want explanation, I want fucking distance between us." You shoved him, he staggers back, your words more of a force than your push.

"You are exhausting, Shindo." You wipe your cheeks, turning towards the back room.

"At least give me a fucking chance to explain."

"Explain what?! That I am some kind of a burner friend? Huh, you left without a word, without a fucking goodbye," You sucked kn a deep breath, alright feeling exhausted, "without any explanation back then, what's makes you think it'll be different now."

Shindo watches you walk away again, knowing that he really couldn't fix this mess.

----

The days only get more tiring, your shifts at the club exhausting you more than ever, you wonder if this might be a good time to apply else where.

Ever since you ran into Shindo there, you have been more tired than usual, you tried changing your working time, even took few days off but the prospect of running into him made it difficult.

You supposed that taking on a new job wouldn't be so difficult, afterall you only worked for 4 hours in the evening, you could afford to get a second job, it'll just add up to your savings as well as give you lesser time with your thoughts.

You applied to bunch of hero agencies, knowing that they have a tendency to hire quirkless individuals to help them financially. A peace offering probably, Oh! You don't have a quirk, here, have a desk job.

Out of all the agencies that you had applied to, only few smaller ones replied within few days, you did expect that, no bigger agency would pick you, considering your lack of experience and expertise.

However, one bigger agency did reach out to you immediately, suggesting an interview and immediately a job.

You didn't expect to be hired by Dynamight's agency within 3 days of applying, his agency was the fasted to respond, already planning to give you the employee badge when you mentioned living close by.

It's takes a 20 minute call and some questions before you were officially hired.

----

The building is a lot bigger than what you anticipated, especially considering your department in Dynamight's agency, biodata and informatics, something that requires perseverance more than the degree.

Your job required you to sit in front of the computer, 8 hours a day, typing away details of whatever crimes had been dealt with that day. From the complete background of the criminals to what the victims had to say, every action taken and what nots.

It used to be easy, at least in the beginning when you had to do reports for just Dynamight and Red Riot, eventually workload got more as more heroes realised that they could dump their paperwork and reports onto you.

You adapted, working overtime, getting it all done, what more could you really do, they were heroes and you, well you were just you.

The first time you ran into Pro-Hero Dynamight, it was christmas eve, the office was completely empty, at least your department, majority of people had holiday, some took leave while others attended a half-day, you on the other hand were working overtime.

It was almost 10 in the evening, the sky completely black, the office was dim too, on the light in the lobby and your little cubicle illuminated, still having few reports left you got up to make yourself a cup of coffee.

It's complete silent when you enter the pantry, hands blindly reaching for expensive coffee beans stacked on the shelves, it's all mundane, a little break before you get back to typing, the machine rings, indicating your coffee is done, you grasp the handle of the mug, slowly bringing it to your lips, sipping at the hot beverage.

You turn around, only to be startled to find a hulking figure standing at the entrance. Letting out a shriek, you almost lose balance, his hand shoots out, steadying you by your wrist, before grabbing your cup and placing it on the counter.

"What are ye' still doin' here?" Bakugou grunts, eyes squinting as he takes in your form.

"Shouldn't I be asking that, jeez!" You blurted, the fact that it was Pro-Hero Dynamight and not some random co-worker registering after words had already left your mouth. You stare at him with wide eyes, a constipated grimace forming on your lips.

He quirks his eyebrow, watching as you inwardly cringe at your tone, "It's my agency, I can be here whenever I want." He moves forward, coming to stand mere inches away, "You, on the other hand, should be at home."

"I have work... Sir." You answer, heart still racing, as you looked at your boss, he continues to stare at you, before turning to leave.

"Should be at home on holidays, typewriter." And he is out the hallway. You don't think your first meeting was significant, don't even think he remembered you after few days.

Weeks pass on, and your work continues to grow, more heroes depositing there reports on your desk, with half-assed promises to give a word in your promotion.

Today was your fourth day in a row, working overtime, the days had only gotten longer, more files piling up than you'd like to admit.

You are alone in the office, or at least you were till few moments ago, your boss no longer sneak around you, maybe the initial jump scare allowed you to evolve a new mechanism to detect his presence.

You assume it's his usual round, he has made a habit of lingering in the department, more often than his did, more often than he should. He walks in, through the main entrance, looking around eyeing everyone thoroughly, before walking back out.

Today, or tonight considering it's almost 11 in the evening, he doesn't follow the routine, instead of walking back out, he walks towards your cubicle, you scramble slightly, suddenly hyper aware of his presence.

"You've made a habit of staying here past the office hours." He leans against the thin walls, arms crossed, muscles bulging through his sky blue shirt, you ogle his build for a minute before meeting his eyes.

"I am not really done yet and I don't want to leave reports for tomorrow." Your answer is the same, work made you stay here.

"How many reports did they hand ya?" He grunts, walking towards you, before crouching down slightly, one hand behind the headpiece of your chair, other typing in your work computer. Oh, dang, you can smell his post workout, musky sweaty, delici-, You straighten your back, hoping to pull yourself out of your sudden inappropriate thoughts.

You don't really know what he is doing, opening all the previous reports you had written. You watch as his expression shifts, brows furrowing as he clicks his tongue.

"Did ya' do all these reports?"

"I did(?)" You muttered sheepishly, wondering had you somehow fucked up every single report and now he is going to fire you.

"How long have ye' been doing other people's work?" He turns his head sharply, his nose almost touching yours, you back up a little, he looks furious.

"It's nothi-"

"That's not what I asked."

"Few weeks now, since Christmas I think."

He doesn't reply, instead he stands up straighter, hand coming up to rub his face, he lets out an exhausted sigh, looking over to your hunched form.

"Take few days off, I'll get these done."

"But-" He doesn't let you start, instead walking out the cubicle, the faint ding of the elevator indicative of his departure.

You are still shocked, hands moving absent-mindedly as you gathered your belongings wonder how long was your sudden holiday, what did the agency consider few days.

You returned to work in 2 days, the silence of your apartment gnawing at your skin, you brain overthinking and conjuring up images of you getting fired, so after 2 days off, you are back.

Everything seems normal, apart from the wariness of people around you, everyone seemed more cautious, not necessarily avoiding you but not out right being in your way either.

None of the heroes showed up at your desk either, you wonder for a moment, if you had perhaps been fired, maybe that's why no one gave you work, cause you had no work.

Alas, bliss didn't last long when you spied 2 rookies heroes glancing your way from the lobby, one of the narrowed his eyes at you before scoffing and walking away, what was up with him today?, not really paying much mind to it, you got to checking your emails, trying to gather all the work that might be pending.

You had forgotten what it's like to not be burdened by work, already having finished all of it by noon, you ventured into the cafeteria, in hopes of finding something to eat. Usually the chefs prepared fresh meals throughout the day, Dynamight forcing all his staff to eat better.

You hadn't really been to cafeteria before, always busy during lunch time and often on coffee breaks during dinner. The cafeteria is spacious, had tables ranging from large tables for groups to smaller individual booths. You greeted the staff, moving to grab a plate.

The food smelled divine, you grabbed the bowl of katsudon from the server's hand and went to one of the solo booths, the idea of sitting with others hand being too intimidating for you, baby steps it was.

You were enjoying your food, along with the view of the city, when a large figure slipped into the booth beside yours, instinctively you hunched forward, face nudging deeper into the space of the booth, intending to avoid interacting with anyone at all cost.

"Ye' normally have a shitty posture or is it just 'round me?" Your could recognise his gruff voice anywhere, his existence becoming more and more prominent into your daily routine.

"It's not that bad," You mumbled, laying chopsticks flat to make sure you don't take a bite when he is asking something, sitting up straighter turning towards him, your curiosity gets better of you and you queried "Did you scold the other heroes?"

He narrows his eyes at you, lips forming a scowl, "Did someone say anything to you?" Before he looks over your shoulder, narrowing his eyes at anyone that looked towards you both.

"No! I was just asking," You look down at your bow! of food, "The reports reduced by alot, so I was just wondering."

"That's 'cause now ye' are doin' what ye' are supposed to." He grumbled, "No longer picking up others slack."

"I didn't mind it," You mindlessly fiddle with your chopsticks, "They probably have better work to do, like save the world."

He turns to eye you, judgement clearly visible in his gaze, "Having other duties doesn't give 'em an excuse to dump their shit on others." He retorts, chugging water from the glass, "Next time some rookies tries to give ye' work, tell 'em to ask Dynamight first."

"I'll keep that in mind, Sir Dynamight."

"Tsk, it's just Bakugou to ya."

He watches you nod your head slightly, before going back to stabbing your chopsticks into katsudon, he observes as you pick out chilli from the meal and scrap if off the side of the bowl.

"You don't like chilli."

"I don't like spicy food." You shake your head slightly. You watch him nod at your words before he steps out of his chair, grabbing the empty plates and walking towards the kitchen.

You immediately notice the change in menu the next day and every day after, there were more savoury items listed.

----

In his own was Bakugou starts looking after you, making sure others don't bother you, leaving a little later than usual, so he could drive you home on some days.

"You are attending the Gala, aren't you?" Mitsuki queried, sharp eyes looking at him directly.

Bakugou avoids her gaze, suddenly more interested in the food she had brought, "It's a Valentine's event, Ma." He answers, leaning over the table to grab water, "Requires a plus one, you and I both know I don't have time for that." He chugs in half the bottle in one go.

"So, you don't have time to invest in a relationship." Bakugou nods his head, eyes meeting her's. "But, you have time to drive her home, every other day." Mitsuki watches delightfully as the colour drains off Bakugou's face, before it returns in a rosy shade of red, starting at his ears.

"It's not like that, Ma I am just helping her." He defends, huffing and crossing his arms, his tone is even though, he isn't mad just shy, he has grown, Mitsuki notes, perhaps had it been a decade ago, she would tease him back, but maybe she grew as well, she suppose.

"It's not necessary for you to attend that Gala," She begins, eyeing his again, "or tell me about your personal activities," Bakugou groans at her choice of words, feeling himself cringe as his mother pretends to be professional about the situation.

"Your dad will be here in a bit, I'll be out of your hair soon," She remarks, looking at clock, before she starts packing up the tupperware.

"How did you-" He stops mid-sentence, as if contemplating, before he begins again,"How did you figure it out?"

"I am your mother, kid, I know everything." Mitsuki snickers at the groan Bakugou lets out.

----

"-namight called us to his office yesterday, apparently the new bitch in data management department complained." One of the interns grunts, followed by curses.

Another intern quips, "Pretty sure he just have a soft spot for quirkless losers." He stops before continuing, "afterall desks jobs are the only thing they are good at." Both of them laugh, turning to walk out the changing rooms, only to be abruptly stopped by Kirishima's large frame, a wide, almost predatory grin spreading on his face.

"Now kids, that isn't really a good way to talk about people." He chimed, moving to pat both their backs roughly, "Why don't you do early morning patrols as well, for a week?" He assigns them work, before walking out, ignoring their groans of protest.

Kirishima enters Bakugou's office without knocking, years of knowing each other gave him the permission to barge into his personal space whenever.

"Heard you reprimanded few rookies this week?" Kirishima begins, eyeing Bakugou who was hunched over his gauntlets, tinkering away, "It's very unlikely for you to interact with interns, you don't even take interns?" He continues.

"Some of your interns don't know how to do their jobs," Bakugou grunts, not bothering to look at Kirishima, "had to set them straight while you weren't here."

"That's understandable, Bakubro." He grins, Bakugou can already feel the headache brewing, this fucker is up to no good, "What about the menu, why are there so many changes?" Kirishima leans in, making sure Bakugou can't avoid his eyes.

"'Cause some employees can't handle spice, that's why, Eijirou."

The use of his first name doesn't deter, Kirishima, infact it only adds fuel to the fire, so there is more to this.

"All these changes for one employee," He chimes, "Does Bakubro have a C-R-U-S-H, a crus-?" A pillow cuts off Kirishima's singing, he snorts before looking at Bakugou again.

Although Kirishima remains silent for the rest of his stay, his teasing grin is enough to make Bakugou groan.

----

You walk into the office to see him resting on the sofa with his head back and eyes closed. Placing the reports in his desk, eyes locking onto his face before your turn to look through the large windows. Watching the city comes to life, as people turn on the decorative lights once the evening sets in.

"You are still here." His voice is hoarse, yet it holds no emotion, just a simple statement.

"It's still 4 in the evening, I am not working overtime."

His lips quirk up, a grin almost plastering on his lips, "I meant you working on a yer birthday." He sits up straight, hands pressed together in his lap, he was wearing his suit pants with a t-shirt, an odd combination that he somehow pulled off.

Your eyebrows furrow when you register his words, after you finished oogling him, how did he know it's your birthday.

"Well I had nothing better to do."

"Don't ye' celebrate with family and friends." His head tilts slightly, genuine curiosity peaking through, he looks younger when he isn't frowning, a boyish charm that refuses to leave him.

"I don't," you mutter out, hoping that he doesn't expect you to complete your sentence. You don't know how you'll explain to him that you haven't celebrated your birthday in past 2 years, and the last time you did, you regretted spending saved up money for someone that didn't even want to be there.

Not that you celebrated before that, family was never really there, and your friends well they had better things to do.

You watch him contemplate, biting the inside of his cheek before gets up and grabs his car keys, "let's go," you standing puzzled. "Why aren't you coming?"

"Where?" You queried, looking at him perplexed. You followed him, feet picking up the pace to match his long strides.

"Somewhere, anywhere." He spoke, almost wishfully, like he was lost in a trance filled with plethora of places to be. "We are going to have a late lunch, or maybe an early dinner."

Your steps halted, "Don't you have work, plus my shift isn't over yet."

"Why do ye keep forgettin' that I own this agency, a little break isn't going to get you fired, typewriter." He spoke, a soft smirk plastering on his lips as he watch you speed up, confusion still lingered on your face but you still followed him.

You had to jog a little, to keep up with his long strides, still having no idea what he was planning on doing, you were left to follow him.

The diner he chose for the was something hidden well into the city walls, small little shop tucked away from the busy streets, there were only 3 people working there, all of them seemed to treat Bakugou like their family.

Greeting him warmly as he entered, the old lady smiling sweetly as she pinched at his cheeks, berating him for not visiting often.

The lady immediately nudges him aside as you catch her eye, her soft wrinkled hands coming to cradle your forearms, her eyes twinkled as she looked at you, "She is really pretty Sparkles, you certainly have a good taste." Her words make you turn towards Bakugou immediately, eyes widened as you tired to understand what she meant.

"You got it all wrong, she isn't my- I don't-" He fumbles his words, despite the situation you find it endearing, watching him flustered.

"Oh, hush now! We all know how this one is going to end." She lets out a mischievous giggle as she winks at you, pulling you towards one of the booth, Bakugou follows behind, refusing to meet your eyes.

The space is cozy, decorated with warm light dangling overhead, she places a menu in front of you both, corners crinkled and torn with time, before she disappears into the kitchen.

"So..." You dragged out, eyes lingering on Bakugou's face, he narrows his eyes suspiciously, "do you have any recommendations, Sparkles." You bite your lip, trying to seem non-chalant, failing miserably as you duck you head to giggle.

When you lift your head back up, you are prepared to see him seething with rage, ready with threats to skin you alive, however, that isn't the case, he is looking at you, eyes soft and lips parted, only to lower his head instantly the moment he caught your eye.

Bakugou avoids your eyes as you continue looking at him expectedly, like you asked a question, which he realises you did, "Everything is good here!" It's abrupt and vague, he lowers his head again looking at the menu, "Curry rice is good, it's also least spicy thing on the menu." He remarks, hoping you didn't catch his loss of composure.

"Right, so I'll get a serving of curry rice."

It doesn't take the staff long, to prepare your dishes, placing your respective orders on the table within 20 minutes.

You immediately dig in, cheeks puffing up slightly as you take a big big of the delicious curry rice, you hear a chuckle in front of you, eyes immediately darting ahead to look at Bakugou, you furrow your brows slightly, questioning him.

"You look like a chipmunk that found treasure of peanuts." He snorts, watching as confusion along with amusement spread on your face.

You chew up the remaining food, swallowing with a sip of water. "What can I say, this is good."

You both continue eating, chatting in between, the sun sets slowly behind the horizon, gradually painting the sky in warm colours, by the time you were done, it was already 8 in the evening.

The old lady, bids you farewell, warm hands clutching yours as she turns her head to tell Bakugou to bring you here often.

Bakugou grumbles something under his breath, before slowly guiding you to the car.

----

The car comes to a hault, stopping in front of your apartment complex, you open the gate, stepping out the car, Bakugou steps out too, jogging around, coming to stand beside you.

"I had it." You mumbled, eyes darting towards your watch, you still had an hour before your shift at the club started.

"I know you did." He rasps, smooth fingers coming to gently take your work bag off your shoulders, he moves back a little, waiting for you to guide him to your apartment.

"Thank you for today, I suppose." You face him, eyes locking with him, "You really didn't have to take time out of your da-"

"I wanted to." He moves closer, hand coming to rest behind your head on the car door, "Everyone deserves a little treat on their birthday." He said with finality.

You nod your head, before turning slowly, feets aching slightly as you moved to the building, he can see you biting your lips, fingers fiddling with the lose strap of your wrist watch, you take a deep breath before turning towards him, "I wasn't expecting guests, the apartment is a bit of a mess." You utter, sheepishly shuffling into the elevator.

"Just walkin' ye back to yer house, typewriter," He looks skeptical, like he doesn't really believe you, "I've got other places to be."

You move out the elevator and head to your apartment, unlocking your door, hands coming to take your bag from him, he watches you walk into your apartment, closing the door behind you. You watch him, through the window, walking out the building into his car, before driving away.

----

"No, thank you, I had dinner a while ago." You politely decline one of the customer's offer for a dinner date, he insists again, before Martin slides beside you.

"Hey! Big man, is the dinner offer valid for me too." The guy instantly retreats at his cheery tone, sensing the unhinged energy radiating off your boss.

"You didn't have to harass him like that, Marty." You whip the glass countertop, drying your hands before handing him a shot, "You'll drive away customers."

He huffs in your direction, swiftly swiping away the glass, sassy motherfu-, "There is no need for such losers here." He downs the shot.

He watches you snort at his response before going back to making drinks, passing tabs to other employees for payments to be made.

"Why are you happy?" He blurts, you give him a nasty side eye instantly, "Sorry, sorry, wrong choice of words, I was wondering," He starts, correcting himself, "You have been happy these days, giddy even, like genuinely enjoying life, i haven't seen this look on you in forever."

You look at Martin, bewildered, "I don't know, I just haven't been having a hard time lately," You spoke, slowly your work so you could take to him, days have indeed been easier, somehow your sleep schedule was fixed despite working late nights.

"Is it because your new boss is hot." He queried, gaze scanning you up and down, "You aren't going to leave your dear Marty, for your new hot boss right?"

You giggle at his words, partly shy because yes, Bakugou was indeed hot. "No, Marty I am not going to leave you for him."

"So, he is hot, what else is good about him, other than his immense hotness?"

You look at Martin for a moment, "He is nice, I suppose." You mumbled, as your mindlessly fiddled with the glasses around you.

"Nice? Really, that's all you have to say about mister hot blonde?"

"Well, he is sweet and considerate too, he scolded the interns that were handing me extra work, he even changed the menu at the lunch area to include less spicy food," You quiet down, realising that you may have ranted a bit, "He is still my boss though, so no funny business."

"We'll see about that."

----

It's past midnight when you are returning from the club, you changed already but the body glitter still clings to your skin, you let out a breath, thinking about how you'll have to scrub it all off.

Spotting the convenience store on the way, you decide to get something to eat. It's cold when you enter, the drop in temperature biting at your skin, you grab a premade bento, something with curry and rice, before grabbing a bottle of beer.

Walking up to the register, you watch as the racks advertised Pro-Heroes on snacks, a hot sauce bottle with Bakugou's face caught your eye, without thinking much you grabbed it too.

He seemed to be everywhere these days, even when he wasn't really around.

----

Grand used to be a local here, before he got big. before his little fanclub turned into a cult, you wish that didn't happen, wished that he would remain a friend so you could joke about it when you meet him, an inside joke that only you and him understood.

"Thought you took a more..." He pursed his lips, forehead wrinkling as he pretended to think hard, "...decent job." He drags his words, hoping to entice any emotion from you.

You snort, hands coming to grab his empty glass, filling it up with a concoction of cheap liquor and fruit syrup, "You haven't really changed," there is a spite in your tone, that had replaced the usual disdain you showed.

His brows knitted, eyes darting across your face, as he tried to decipher your emotions.

You made it easier for him, "I did, Dynamight has been treating me good." There is half truth in your words, he does treat you alright, but what matters more is that he doesn't treat you like shit, you don't phrase it like that though.

"Not good enough, if you still have to be pawed at here." His expression hardened, fingers gripping his glass tighter, he leans forward, waiting for your response.

You look at him, like he is an inconvenience, like he is another customer demanding more than what he can afford, "This is retirement plan, and we both no there is no 'pawing' happening here." You tutted, eyes scanning the crowd as you looked for other customers wanting to order, "If you are done here, I have work, see ya 'round, Grand."

You turned to leave, shoulders feeling lighter as his presence no longer suffocated you, you assume he doesn't owe you anything, not explanation, not time, you have made peace with how thinks ended.

Similarly, you suppose, you don't owe him anything either, that friendship was done and dusted, it doesn't matter how shitty the situation was or how poor it ended, you are glad that you moved on from it, from him.

He is still stunned, wondering what exactly did Bakugou do to make your life better despite this hellhole. Well there was only one way to find out.

----

Bakugou had a certain dislike towards Shindo, hero work aside, he just didn't like Shindo's personality, maybe it was the interaction during the licensing exarn but his mention always lett a bitter taste in Bakugou's mouth.

They didn't interact much, both heroes working in separate locations, the patrols never overlapped, the only time Bakugou sa him was during events and that wasn't enough to justify Shindo lounging in his office today.

So far, Shindo had figured out that Bakugou did infact have a soft spot and a nickname for you, talking with the employees, working his charm, he got his answers. Though you'd argue they answered because they wanted to get rid of him as soon as possible.

"What are ye doin' here?" Bakugou queried, suspiciously eyeing him before rounding about the desk to sit on his chair.

"Nothing can't I just come over to see my friend?" Shindo chimed, head coming to rest on his palms.

"You and I aren't close enough for hangouts, what Is it, Grand?"

Shindo raised his eyebrow, disgruntled by the lack of interest in the conversation Bakugou showed. "You've been enjoying company of an ex-friend of mine," He leans back, eyes scanning through the one-way window, trying to get a look at the staff. "I just thought to come over and warn you, I suppose."

"The fuck are you yapping about, Grand? Is this your new found way to bother others?"

"Bother you? Huh... You are the one bothering me." Shindo's tone was no longer calm, instead venom dripped from his words, Bakugou realised this wasn't really a casual conversation after all.

"Just wanted to tell ya, the bitch catches a bone for any man." Shindo hissed, his patience thinning each second he sat infront of Bakugou.

Bakugou's brows knitted, confusion painted clearly on his face, he didn't really understand what Shindo was blabbering about. For a moment he wondered if Shindo had hit himself in the head and was actively hallucinating in his office.

"Your precious little typewriter isn't all that good-" Shindo barely even finished his sentence, when Bakugou's fist connected with his jaw, he laid there, on the tiled floor, as he stared at Bakugou walking towards him, he sure did connect dots fast, damn.

"You don't walk into my office and talk shit about my fucking employees, especially her," Bakugou rasps, barely even touching Shindo, his stance and his tone enough to the message into his skull. "Clean up yourself 'fore you crawl out of here."

Shindo gets up, letting out a bittersweet laugh, you really did find someone worthy of you.

He doesn't bother fixing his clothes, aware that wouldn't bring him his dignity or you back. Just as he leaves the elevator, his eyes catch yours, a large pile of paper in your hands.

Your eyes widened, eyebrows raising, realising who was in the building, before the scrunched together, in confusion, when you noticed his bruising face. Shindo didn't bother stopping when you called after him, your lover would eventually tell you what happened.

You hadn't expected to run into Shindo during your shift, the initial dread of seeing him here quickly changed into concern when you spotted his bleeding nose. You call out for him, but he doesn't bother stopping, continues to walk out, your calls falling on deaf ears.

You almost chase after him, but a hand wraps around your wrist, you look back to see Bakugou, his expression somber, as he pulled you towards the elevator.

"Is he okay?" You still tried to look through the clear glass of the lobby, "He was bleedi-"

"I hit him."

You turn to look at him, brows furrowing in confusion, mind racing as you tried to decipher what could have went down between them, whilst subtly looking for any sign of injuries on him.

"He couldn't land a hit on me if he wanted." Bakugou sounds smug, slight smirk graces his lips as he catches your eyes scanning him for injuries.

"That still doesn't explain why he was hurt.'

"Spewed bullshit in my office, knocked some sense into him."

You scrunch your brows, confused as to why Shindo would come to Bakugou's office, as far as you know, neither are they friends nor do they work on missions together. "What was he here for anyways?"

"Aren't ya' curious, typewriter?" Although a teasing smirk painted his lips, his tone was far from playful, you could hear the anger laced in it. "What exactly is he to you?"

You don't answer him, not really sure what happened to bring up that question, although you have a fleeting idea. The elevator dings upon it's arrival, letting you escape briefly.

You get into the enclosed space, suddenly aware of his looming presence, he hand reaches out suddenly, pressing the stop button. "We aren't leaving, till you answer my question?"

You feel nauseous, sickening feeling in your stomach, as your brain conjured all the things Shindo may have possibly mentioned, "He used to be a friend."

"A friend?" He huffed in disbelief, "You sure did attract pathetic company." He presses against another button, the elevator comes back to life with a loud creak.

Silence fills the space between you both, lots of questions unanswered, "What did he say to you?" Your curiosity wouldn't let you sleep till you find out what happened.

"He strutted into my office called you a bitch and indirectly a whore." He was cold, icy even, when he repeated Shindo's words.

You felt ill, you didn't know if it was due to Shindo's words or Bakugou's reaction. Before you could shuffle out of the elevator he spoke again. "I don't know whatever is going on between you both," He spoke, following your steps out, "but if I hear shit about you, from him or anyone else, I am going to knock their teeths out"

He brisks past you, wide steps carrying him to his office, you continue to stare in his direction, face heating up at his words.

----

Bakugou knew something was wrong, when you didn't show up to work the next day, rationally he knew that you could very well be taking a break but his brain was in overdrive, coming up with crused scenarios, maybe Shindo had found you again, just to get back at him?

Nevertheless, it didn't matter, especially when Bakugou got his car out and sped to your house, running through empty red lights, traffic rules be damned.

He is outside your door, haphazardly knocking, hoping everything is alright. You open the gate, after few minutes, looking slightly disheveled as if you had just rolled out of bed.

"Everything okay? What are you doing here?" You mumbled, slightly concerned at why your boss is outside your front door, 9 in the morning, on your day off.

"Ye' didn't come to work today, thought I'd make sure everything is alright."

You blinked at him slowly, trying to recollect if you had slept through workday or it was actually your day off, "It's Saturday, right?" You asked, he nods in return, "I thought I had today off."

Gear turned in Bakugou's head, as he remembered your schedule, before face palming himself, he cursed under his breath, "I forgot, that's on me, sorry for distributing yer sleep." He walked backwards almost down the hallway way, before stopping when you called for him.

"Wait! Bakugou."

He turned his head around, face warming in embarrassment, as he stopped abruptly, eyes meeting yours.

"Why don't you come inside?" You step out the threshold of your apartment, clad in loose t-shirt and a pair of shorts, stance a little uncomfortable but inviting nonetheless.

He turned to face you fully, walking closer till he was right in front of you, moving slightly you have him passage to walk inside.

Your apartment is cozy, small couch in the middle of your living room, with few pillows, he looks slightly comical, his large frame next your smaller furniture.

"Would you like something to drink?" You are already moving towards the kitchen, pulling out a fancy tray from the cabinets, opening a packet of snacks and settling them into smaller plates, "I have water, coffee and...," You squint your eyes slightly, trying to read label of the bottle in the conner of the counter, "...wine which you don't drink so water and coffee and snacks."

You try hard not to think about your rather informal attire, you turn back around, choosing to focus on the coffee, right now you need a cup as well, hands grab the kettle preparing hot water for it. "Why did you come looking for me though?" You ask over your shoulder, still curious as to why he was so worked up.

"Thought Shindo killed ya or something, had to make sure you were alright."

You let out a snort, he finds amusement in the situation too, a shy grin stretching on his lips as he studied you in the comfort of your home. "He wouldn't have killed me," You defended, before pausing and looking over your shoulder at him, "hopefully."

This time he let out a snort, strutting over to stand beside you, he didn't say anything, only observing your mismatched flower patterned cups, variety of small plates, with snacks arranged on them.

"Would you tell me, what really happened for him to act like that?" He questioned, voice soft as he waited for you to speak. He watches you contemplate, fingers fidgeting with the handles of the tray, "You don't have to answer me, if you don't want."

You took a deep breath, before you started to speak, "We were friends, since kindergarten, he always looked after me," You turn towards the kettle, partly to avoid how eyes, partly to pour coffe out in the cups.

"It was all good, uptill few years ago, we shared an apartment, I moved in with him immediately after high school, it was easy on my wallet to split the rent," you speak while pouring the hot drink into cups, mentally chastising yourself, when you accidentally spill on the counter, he stays silent, waiting for you to continue.

"It was fine for a while, then he got in top 20, I prepared whole dinner that day but he didn't show up, infact he didn't come home at that, the rent was paid almost a year in advance and his name was off the lease,"

"I moved out few months later, ever since we run into each other, occasionally, that's all I guess." You conclude, hoping you didn't come across as too pathetic. You turn to look at him, only to end up meeting his eyes, as much as you wanted to shy away, you held the eye contact.

"So, now he goes running around being a little shit." He rasped, hands looking comically large holding onto your tiny cup.

"I texted him, yesterday, to not involve other people into this, hopefully this wouldn't be repeated." You stated, as professionally as you could, but from Bakugou's perspective it wasn't really that, your hairs tousled, miss matched pajamas that you adorned, standing awkwardly in your own kitchen.

"I don't think, he would have pulled any stunt after getting his senses knocked him." You watch as he flexes subtly, toned muscles visible through the thick jacket. "Yet you thought he would have come after me." You teased.

"Oi! I had to make sure." He grunts, voice holding no anger, "I'll get going now, you can go back to bed." He moves out of your kitchen, long steps quickly taking him to the door. "I'll see you on Monday, 'kay." He spoke, turning around, he watches you nod your head, "Words, typewriter."

"See you on Monday, Bakugou."

"Good."

----

You slip out of your work attire, before donning yourself in a red and black lingerie set, something that only looked pretty otherwise it digged into your skin at odd places, overall uncomfortable. Tonight was going to be a long one.

The club was slower than usual, older customers lounging by the counter, chatting up with the bartenders and dancers, as old friends or as something more, you didn't mind this kind of vibe.

You were leaning against the counter, eyeing fellow customer, waiting for them to signal you for drinks, out of the corner of your eye, you catch a large figure hunched over the counter on the other side, you could recognise those blonde spikes anywhere, you wonder what brought him here.

Mari shimmies beside him slightly, the fringes of her cover up getting stuck in his wrist watch as she dances over him, you watch as she tries her luck, leaning over to him, only to be rejected, Mr. Bakugou wasn't here for that it seems.

Bakugou doesn't usually come to places like this, he isn't image conscious, that much is obvious considering the tabloids, it's just lack of time and to be honest, lack of interest.

He doesn't care enough about clubs, strippers and parties and the jazz, he attended his fair share of these when he was younger, fresh-faced rookie hero, now though he isn't into this.

What or rather who he is into is here though, something he recently found out, he doesn't hate you for working here, the idea is only bothersome he knows you don't really like working here, maybe he'll change that tonight.

He looks around carefully, eyes scanning the crowd, when suddenly he feels someone slide onto the seat beside him, he half expects it to be another dancer only to be surprised by your voice instead.

"What are you doing in a place like this?" There is certain charm in the way you handle yourself, because for the first time he sees a different sight of you, sheer cover up barely concealing your lingerie, he watches mesmerized as you pour in drinks, with slight show of skill of course.

"The fuck are you doing here?" He makes a show of it, doesn't let you figure out he was here to see you, that he knew you worked here.

"Working."

He almost gives himself away, snort bubbling in his throat as he wondered if that's your default answer, but nonetheless he has a facade to maintain, little white lies seldom hurt anyone. "Why are ya' working in this sketchy strip club?"

"Pays well." He watch you cringe inwardly, valid reason he concludes.

"What do ya' mean? Don't we pay you enough?" He query is genuine, he does feel a little shitty because he doesn't know what the department does pay you. "Enough to live by Bakugou, not enough to afford me early retirement."

Bakugou can tell that isn't the complete truth, maybe somethings are still kept from him, but he'll figure those out in due time, he suppose. He doesn't get to respond, before you speak again.

"Where you planning on getting lucky tonight?" You snort lightly, eyeing him teasingly.

His face heats up, he was is planning on taking someone home tonight, not for the reason you are assuming though, "None of ya' business, typewriter."

He watches you let out a fit of giggles, before straightening up, reminiscent smile lingering on your face, "Well, I have get back to work now." You stand up, pushing the stool slightly, you don't get a chance to move away though, Bakugou reaches out for you, his hand clasped around your wrist.

"Wait! When do you get off?" He asked, a little breathless, a little desperate, he watches you look around, eyes landing on a wall clock nearby.

"Few hours." You replied, moving slightly as Bakugou shifts to stand in front of you, his frame towering over yours.

"Can ya' not leave early?"

"Where are you gonna take me?"

"There is a hole-in-the-wall diner a block away." You know exactly where he is referring to, it's the same diner he took you to, for your birthday.

"Let me grab my stuff." He watches you strut away, before deciding he'll just follow you. As decent as he is, he still couldn't keep his eyes off you, the black and red lingerie was something he just got to admire, maybe down the lane he'll ask you to wear it again, for now he'll focus on taking you out.

He follows you into the dressing rooms, averting his eyes when you slip out of your cover up. He watches a figure approaching the room through the clear door, stepping out, he prevents him from going in.

"Need help?" His voice is sharp, territorial even, eyes squinted as he glares at the intruder.

"Woah! Calm down man," The guy lifts his hands up in defence, "Was just making sure she was alright, she doesn't go home with customers." Martin, your boss stated, tone even as he challenged Bakugou slightly, he already recognised Bakugou, the blonde hottie of your dreams, still he had to check up on you.

For once, Bakugou approves your choice of friends, he is glad someone, even if this guy, looked after you while you worked in here.

"Good for ya', I am taking her out for dinner," He glances back into the room, watching you pack up, "if she decides to go home with me afterwards, I'll let ya' know."

Martin grins at him, nodding his head before walking back out. You'll be fine. Bakugou watches as you walk towards the door, before he opens it for your.

"You could have waited outside ya' know." You chimed, smile plastered on your cheeks, as you almost skipped towards him. Bakugou reaches over, grabbing the strap of your glittery bag, tugging it over his shoulder.

"Had a word or two with your boss." He looks over your shoulder for a bit before clasping a hand around yours, fingers crossing with yours as you both walked out.

"Hopefully you won't get me fired."

----

"Wait!" You pat his shoulder gently, putting your drink down, "What exactly were you doing in the club." You reach for a fry, eyeing him curiously, both of you perched on the hood of his car, eating burgers and fries.

"Do I have to answer it?" He picks up your drink, lips wrapping around the straw, stained with your lipgloss, "Why do you even get this sugar water?"

"I just wanted to know, I guess." You mumbled, fiddling with the wrapped of your burger, "Heroes have better...establishments in the name of clubs."

"I came looking for you." He looks at you, hand moving closer to your face, as he wipes away the sauce from your lips.

Your eyes widen, "You knew?" Hands falling in your lap, as you tried to think if you ever mentioned it.

"Someone told me about it, someone completely irrelevant by the way," He watches as you connect the dots in your head, lips quirking up in a smile, as you get back to your food.

He could definitely get used to this.

This fic took so long to be done, I ended up adding Shindo at some point, random plot deviation happened, at one point I accidentally deleted the first draft of this, almost set my phone on fire when that happened.

Just realised I didn't even make them kiss, I'll probably continue this later on tbh, apart from that HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY BAKUGOU KATSUKI 🎂🎂🎈🎁🎉🎊.

I have few more fics and ideas drafted poorly I'll get to them in mid May mostly, cause I have exams, that I have not prepared for at all, apart from that hope you all enjoy the fic. I'll also continue this fic in small drabbles, there are still bits and pieces that are missing. Gonna make them kiss in future.

Divider by: @/diviniyae

Tags: @odessa-is-my-queen @2elusional @shotos-angelic-whore @katthekat1234 @runrabbitrun3 @hellokittymochi @gold24fish @emmaafinchh

kenforty

My first long fic, more than a year old 🥺🥺🥺

gojover

A LESSON ON LOVE

with your love life in ruins, the last thing you want to do is think about romance. unfortunately, between passive-aggressive notes and an infuriating neighbour named 4B who won’t leave you alone, love might not be done with you just yet

pairing: frat!jo x reader

content: mdni idiots in love, satoru as a faceless voice for a while, larping abt frats again, one (1) frat party scene, voyeurism, p in v, slightly intoxicated but consensual sex, cunnilingus, slight public sex/hidden sex 30k+

note: there are some images in this fic for immersion but if there's any difficulty in reading them, please click the alt text option! alternatively, you can read this on ao3 !!

When you eventually gained the courage to break up with your shitty boyfriend, you knew it would be a public spectacle considering he’s the vice president of Tau Delta Phi. What you didn’t expect, however, was to find yourself spotlighted in the living room of some random houseparty, an empty red plastic cup in your hand and whatever had been inside now poured over your ex-boyfriend’s head.

It was almost funny watching humiliation and rage surge across Naoya’s face, marked by that red-hot blush you’ve seen far too many times, spit flying from his mouth when he yells that you’ll regret this, he’ll make sure you do. To no surprise he had you kicked out, leaving you stranded on the side of the road at 2am, alone, slightly intoxicated, and with a massive hole punctured through your concept of love.

“You’re lucky that’s my dupe deck or I’d end this friendship right here and now,” Gojo says, an easy grin on his face as if he wasn’t pressing up against you, his chest warm and hard against your side, your elbow awkwardly jutting into him. Your hand flexes around the cup, and the ring shifts slightly on your finger. Gojo’s gaze drops to it for half a second, a private little smile cutting across his mouth before he looks back at the table. “We heard about what happened inside,” Geto says. “Are you okay?” Would it be too late to suddenly go mute? If you’re able to recognise Gojo by his voice, then the chances of him putting name to face with the girl next door and you is also very high. Though, considering the way he isn’t immediately pulling you aside to ask if you are indeed the voice in his walls, you want to believe that he has yet to figure out your identity. So no, it isn’t too late to go mute. You nod in response to Geto’s question and flash him a smile, hoping none of it comes off as rude. Gojo hums beside you, the vibration travelling through your bodies. He leans down to speak into your ear, a conversation just for you. “Not much for words? What happened to all the snark earlier?” You stall for time by taking a long sip of Shoko’s concoction, the sting temporarily skyrocketing to the top of your concerns. This may or may not be a bad idea because now that you’re seated, all the previous drinks sloshing around in your stomach and this adding sip burning down your throat, you feel the world tip a little. You probably can’t deflect this question, not when he asks like this, so you settle for something else. Clearing your throat, you try for a lower octave than usual. “I only talk to the people that deserve it,” you say, then let out a small huff at how ridiculous you sound. The grin he shoots you is all confidence and self-assurance, leaning in a fraction closer. “How would you know if you’ve never given me a chance?” “It’s pointless, I already know what you’re like.” Maybe it’s the bonfire or the drink in your hand but you are getting really warm. You take another long sip.

“I think I would remember someone like you.” That causes you to raise an eyebrow, letting his casual flirt roll off you. “Flattery,” you start, poking his chest. You let him catch your hand in his, holding it there against his heart, “won’t get you anywhere especially when it’s empty.” “Who said it was empty? Besides, I know I wouldn’t forget such a pretty girl.” “Oh, you would. You are.” You laugh again, finding the inside joke hilarious. “Try a little harder to remember, hm Satoru?” The challenge makes his eyes glow just like you knew they would, always have known from the moment when a wall still separated the two of you and he had laughed at your provoking, all dark and not humourous at all. “Maybe if you gave me a name.” You’re not quite ready to hear his name from your lips just yet so you only shake your head, wagging your finger at him playfully. “Where’s the fun in that?” “I’m usually a patient man and I’m all for the chase,” he starts, fingers inching closer, brushing hair from the back of your neck as he leans in, “but you’ve left me high and dry for so long.” His words go in one ear and out the other, your breath hitching at the slightest touch. Despite yourself, you gulp and taste the bitter alcohol in your mouth. You feel it too, warmth pooling in your gut and making your head spin. “I’m not an easy person,” you whisper, eyes flickering down to his lips and you bite your own, the rush of all your fantasies suddenly overwhelming you. In all other them, you’ve never once imagined his lips on yours, not until now. And you don’t doubt that after this, you'll be thinking of them often. “Trust me,” he chuckles. “You’re not easy, you’re stubborn as hell and you always give me a hard time.” As if sensing your temptation, Gojo’s eyes trace the way your teeth dig into your lip, watching the pull before you release it, red and slightly jutted out. It makes him want to sink his teeth into your bottom lip and lick the marks it leaves behind.

Sure, you think, eyes rolling back, as if your Etsy witch can touch me anymore when Gojo is fucking me. You slump forward, relief flooding you when you hear his footsteps retreating, but Gojo doesn’t let you rest. He grabs a fistful of your hair, yanking your head back, and resumes his brutal pace. “Good girl,” he purrs. His voice is different now, softer, honeyed and almost affectionate. “Such a good fucking girl. You did so well. You listened. You obeyed.” He kisses your shoulder, open-mouthed, wet. “See? I knew you could be good for me.” The whiplash is dizzying and it only makes you arch more, something inevitable and delicious approaching in the far distance. “That's right,” he murmurs, still fucking you deep and slow. “You took that so well. Pretended you weren’t getting your tight little cunt stuffed while your ex was right outside. That takes skill, pretty. You’re so fucking perfect for me.” His hand snakes around your front, fingers finding your clit. He rubs slow, tight circles, and your hips buck. “Bet you've been practicing, haven't you?” His voice is a low, knowing drawl. “All those nights you thought nobody was listening. Thought nobody could hear you moaning. But weren’t you the one to tell me? The walls are thin as shit, angel.” He’s ramming into you now, fast and rough again, his words spilling out between each thrust and all you can do is be a ragdoll in his hold. “You'd lie in bed, late at night, fingers in your pussy, listening to me stroke my cock. I’d hear you. The wet sounds. The little ‘oh, yes’s. And I’d think... fuck, I need to have that. I need to feel that cunt clench around me.” You're dizzy, overwhelmed. His hand on your clit, his cock in your cunt, his words in your brain, it’s all too much. “Did you think I didn’t recognize you at the party tonight? The girl with the needy little moans?” He bites your earlobe, hard enough to sting. “I’ve been waiting for an excuse to corner you. And then you showed up drunk and sad, with that asshole on your heels, and I knew tonight was the night.” He’s watching you in the mirror and you catch his reflection. His eyes are dark, lips parted, face flushed. He’s absolutely beautiful.

ttakdoll

꩜ – FRAT PRESIDENT SATORU GOJO (and the shy girl he's obsessed with!)

(18+) HEADCANONS :: – frat!gojo x innocent!reader, college au, smut, dom!gojo, handjobs, praise, corruption kink, manipulative behavior, slight dub-con

frat president!satoru, who’s used to every type of girl at his party except you, all big eyes, wandering around his house like you didn’t know what to do. he’s asked suguru to offer you everything under the sun in the last thirty or so minutes — a drink, a smoke, a joint. you just politely decline, shaking your head so prettily.

frat president!satoru, who swears he’s just got an ego when he decides he’ll be the one to show you all of that and more. he could do it if suguru couldn’t, if no one else could.

he starts off all nice, walking you to all your classes, offering his sweaters in the lectures you had together (which he only started attending for you), buying you lunch and listening to your cute little rants about your worst profs.

frat president!satoru learns that you like being held when he’s the first one to find you after an exam you swear you’d failed. he doesn’t get it ‘til he’d realized your eyes are all glassy, so shiny as you peered up at him with wobbling lips, trying not to cry in front of him.

frat president!satoru loves the way you’d just melted into his arms after that. he calls you easy to his friends for it, but something inside him never wants to let go whenever you’re willing to press yourself into his chest, wherever you’re willing to do it.

frat president!satoru, who asks you what you’re wearing all the time and sends even prettier things to wear to your dorm when he thinks you can do better.

frat president!satoru, who’s spiraling at night, jerking off to your contact photo, wrapping his large hand around his dick and pretending like it’s that sweet mouth of yours engulfing his length. he imagines how shy you’d be, lips parted wide, smearing pre-cum and replacing your candy lip balm. he wants you tasting like him, those soft cheeks drenched in his cum, eyes screwed shut until he’s all you can think about.

frat president!satoru likes making you need him, doting on you and driving you around like a princess, spoiling you until you frown whenever his hand isn’t on your hip, or whenever he dodges your calls for fraternity meetings. he likes the idea that you might become obsessed with him (like he is with you).

frat president!satoru, who’s grinning cruelly the minute you finally tell him, “you know, you do so much for me, I feel like I’m not doing enough for you.” in that small little voice of yours one day, while you’re tucked into his side at your apartment.

frat president!satoru, who’s never missed a meeting or a call until that day, when he’s finally got you whimpering shyly in his lap while he gently mouths at your neck, tasting that perfume he’s been searching online for for weeks, whispering about how he’s so grateful you wanna help him out, how sweet you are for making it up to him too even when you didn't have to.

but he’s been waiting for weeks, you’re all soft and impressionable on him, and he’s not letting a moment of your kindness go to waste.

frat president!satoru guides you with a husky voice when he teaches you to spit in your own palm and wrap your smaller hand around his cock, nearly shivering at the contact — “make me feel good, pretty girl, it’s the least you can do.”

frat president!satoru, who just chuckles at the fact that you’re all nervous, looking up at him as if asking what to do next, just for him to wrap his palm around yours, engulfing it entirely. he groans lowly as he moves your palm up and down on his already-hard length, bottom lip catching between his teeth at how warm your hand feels against his dick.

“shit, just keep it like that, baby, up and down…”

frat president!satoru, who kisses you slow when you gasp at how he bucks up into your hand, keeping his own wrapped around it while desperately attempting not to just use you, jerk himself off with your tiny little fingers, maneuver you down and slam himself deep into your tight cunt. “hah — fuck, gorgeous, y— you’re good at this, huh? so good for me, so fucking cute…”

“i’ve never done this before,” you admit into frat president!satoru’s mouth, hushed and breathy like it’s a secret. he wants to fucking laugh, but he’s cut short by a low hiss as you thumb at his slit without him having to teach you, making him lose his mind piece by piece. shit, you’re just perfect, aren’t you?

“am — am I doing okay, satoru?”

frat president!satoru has nearly had enough of patience when you say that. shit, he bites down into your lip without even realizing, hand tightening around yours when you whimper. and it’s barely enough to notice at first, but he pumps your hand around him faster, growling into your mouth at the way your fingertips flex around his length, making a slick! sound that echoes across the room.

“you’re — shit, just like that — doing perfect, baby. so perfect.” frat president!satoru groans into your throat, even though he’s using your hand like a fuck toy now, smearing his own pre-cum mixed with your saliva all over his huge dick, bucking his hips up into your plush skin like a glorified fleshlight.

the only one he’s dreamed of in the past few weeks, at least.

frat president!satoru gets off on how eager you are to match his pace, his other hand cupping your cheeks to purse your pretty mouth open for him as he spits down your throat and relishes in your confused little whine. he doesn’t even realize how tightly he’s gripping your hand now, forcing you to jerk his cock faster.

“that’s it,” he pants into your lips, “just let me have you, okay? hah— so good, shit, you’ve been wanting this too, haven’t you?”

“satoru—” your voice is a wet dream, how it feathers off around the edges and breaks like you’re not sure.

frat president!satoru groans at the sound of your confusion. “been, fuck, thinking about this, baby. want you creaming on my cock next, yeah? or maybe it’s — haah! — too big for your first time. gotta — shit — prep you first.”

frat president!satoru spills into your hand with one last rough stroke of both your hands around his length, gasping low with his tongue down your throat as he finally lets your hand go. he watches the way your palm shakes, eyes dark, lifting your cum-covered fingertips to your mouth without thinking. and he thinks you won’t do it, until—

your sweet fucking tongue darts out to lick experimentally at your own fingers, and satoru thinks he’s gone to heaven.

frat president!satoru, who can’t help himself when he’s grabbing you by the waist now, laying you flat on your back and coming up to slot his knee between your thighs, committing the way your face scrunches up in both confusion and pleasure to memory. he thinks you’re the cutest fucking thing in the world, and he wants you broken in every way possible until you can’t fuck any other guy without imagining his dick.

“thank you, baby,” he grins against your neck. “can i make you feel good now?”

frat president!satoru, who decided he’d never let you fuck anyone else anyways the moment you'd nodded.

@ ttakdoll, 2026

inspired by an anon request for a shy reader!!

rllyobsessedgirlie

Toxic teen father Fratjo

Frat Gojo knocks up the girl he insists on calling his soulmate when he was eighteen. At first, they try to make it work. There’s talk of commitment and half-hearted promises. But reality sets in quickly and she eventually chooses to move on; leaving their child behind knowing the Gojo family has the resources to raise him.

Most of the time, the boy is raised at the Gojo estate, cared for by servants who provide far more structure and consistency than his father ever could. Gojo drifts in and out of his son’s life, stopping by when it’s convenient. Still, every so often, he brings his kid to campus with him; usually when it suits a purpose.

His adorable, wide-eyed toddler who’s basically his identical twin turns out to be incredibly useful.

Professors are more lenient. Missed deadlines become understandable. Slipping out of class early is no longer suspicious…it’s responsible. All it takes is a tired sigh and a casual explanation about childcare, and doors start opening for him.

But the real payoff comes elsewhere.

ke1rinn

BABY, CALL ME BACK !

JJK — bf!fratjo's four-step plan on how to win his girl back! . . . wc: 2.3k words

Author’s Notes : I love the fratjo and nerdjo concept and wanted to try writing for it !!!

You were getting tired.

The partying he was addicted to if you had to say, the girls that couldn’t back off, the way he came to your dorm at the dead of night, smelling like cheap beer and cigarettes, and his smirk you wish you could wipe off his face.

His texts were quick, conversations with him even shorter. It was like you weren’t even dating anymore!

Your friends had grown tired of your endless rants about Satoru Gojo, the campus heartthrob, the golden boy, the ladies’ man, and most especially— your boyfriend.

You didn’t know if it was luck that somehow, you caught his attention in a sea of fangirls. You could go far as to call it a miracle.

A part of you suspected he wasn’t serious about you and your relationship. Like you were an excuse he could say to girls that wanted to get in his pants. But, as of late, it wasn’t working. Did it ever even work? You didn’t know either.

You couldn’t understand the man at all– when you’d pass by each other in the hallways, the most you were getting from him was a smile he gave everyone. No hug, no greeting, not even a wave. Just a casual smile, a nod your way if you were lucky.

But behind closed doors, more specifically the door of your dorm with a broken lock, he was the dream. He spoiled you with his affection (and his money). Plans that day suddenly called for a raincheck as soon he remembered to spend his time with his beloved partner. Just so you couldn’t break up with him.

senalaced

frat!satoru asking you to chat mid-party after days of radio silence | 18+ | ‹ 4k wc

coming to this party hadn't even been your idea.

with midterms concluding and your cortisol levels at their highest, shoko's idea of winding down comes in the form of cheap, unlimited booze and vomit tinged air. promises of it being fun, paired with not wanting her going on her own lead to your current situation.

the tiny black dress seems to cling to every dip and crease, something cute and overly strappy on your feet (per shoko's ordering around). you look…different. good different, of course. from the top down save for your glasses balanced on your nose because contacts make your eyes water. near the corner like a wallflower, trying to remain as separate from the bodies bumping and grinding as possible. silently searching for the one person you know you shouldn't have on your mind.

you spot satoru before he spots you, halfway across the room, air seeming to shape around his presence. he looks good, as annoyingly good as he always does. black tee, biceps. big…fat biceps. jeans hanging low on his hips in that irritatingly effortless way. his friends are laughing at something he just said, he’s grinning, just looking so in his element. so different from you.

you're barely given the opportunity to look away before he catches your stare across the room as though he'd felt your gaze. you watch the recognition hit, feel your skin tingle with the unabashed once over he gives right from your head right down to your toes.

taking in your hair, the dress, the heels—everything that isn't your usual skirts, cardigans and dresses. his eyes meet yours again, carrying a look that makes your face far too warm for comfort. satoru's eyes leave you only for a moment, clapping his friend—suguru, you think—on the shoulder before abandoning his side completely.

…to walk in your direction. your heart feels like it drops all the way down to your ass, frozen like a deer in headlights as you stare at his approaching figure. you will your limbs to move but they just don't cooperate despite your best efforts, heart pounding in an unsteady staccato rhythm against your ribcage.

then he's in right front of you, close enough that you have to tip your head back to properly meet his gaze. "can't say I expected to see you here."

and as you always are when satoru's in your orbit, or well, when you're in his, you choke up. embarrassingly, pathetically so. managing just a small "huh?" that he can only make out by the shape of your mouth.

his mouth slants, teeth flashing in a smile. you're staring up at him all wide-eyed and pretty behind your glasses. god, you're so easy to fluster. satoru wonders if you know just how much he likes it.

"I said I didn't think I'd see you here." he says a little louder, eyes travelling down your frame before finding your gaze again, "shoko's doing?"

you manage a small nod, fingers instinctively reaching to tug at the hem of the material sitting too high on your thighs. "..she said I should try something new."

"yeah?" and if ogling the first few times weren't enough, he's reaching to play with the hem of your dress, settling it back into place, "tell her i said thanks, then."

the red solo cup feels weighted in your hand, words lost on you despite knowing you should have some sort of response here. satoru doesn't seem to mind your silence though.

he's closer in a heartbeat, and you can hear yours pounding in your ears, blood heating with the warmth of his breath against your ear. "wanna go somewhere quieter to talk? the music's too loud."

if there's nothing else you know in the world, one thing you do know is what being alone with satoru leads to. how your 'talks' with him always end up. yet still, you repeat his offer, "to talk?"

"mhm, to talk." his fingers trace the length of your arm down to the inside of your elbow, giving you a little encouraging tug in his direction. "just for a little bit."

despite this being the exact reason you've been avoiding him, the exact reason his messages have gone unanswered, you're nodding dumbly and letting him drag you away because really, what other option is there?

(saying no, probably. but your feet betray you anyway.)

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆˚₊

slvttyplums

satoru accidentally uses an aphrodisiac (˶˃⤙˂˶)

it's not unusual for you to leave things sitting around in the house and for satoru to pick them up.

this time you brought home a pretty pink and purple drink in the bottle and left it on the counter, forgetting about it.

an hour later, satoru comes home, picking it up and taking a look at the name and nothing further before opening it and drinking it. neither of you had any idea what was in the bottle, so when he started acting weird, you were confused.

it only takes an hour for the aphrodisiac to kick in all the way; his pupils dilated big, and his dick was standing so far at attention it was aching and throbbing to the point it was hurting.

he needs to be inside of you now.

it's like a chip is implemented in his brain where the only program direction is to fuck your brains out until you milk all the cum out of his dick until it's not possible for him to cum days after this.

satoru is already a horny dog, so the aphrodisiac running through his systems is doing numbers on him, beads of sweat forming and running down his face.

you’re on the couch completely unaware of what’s happening.

he walks over, standing and blocking your view of the tv with his dick right in your face, quickly unzipping his pants and sliding them down with his briefs.

cum is already leaking down his shaft. all he did was think about you, and he finished, but that isn’t stopping him because he wants the real thing.

he wants your warm tight walls clinging to his pathetic dick, milking him for all he’s worth.

a warm pink spread across his cheeks and thighs, his body warm with pleasure and anticipation, waiting for you to wrap your hand around his dick and give him what he wants.

drool forming in the corner of his mouth, and he's about to pounce on you until you dip your head and lick the tip of his dick, a small moan coming from you and a deep groan coming from him.

this feels like heaven to him, and that is a heavy understatement for what it is that he is feeling.

there’s a feeling all over his body right now; it feels like tiny kisses and little licks. his body is trembling, and he feels like at any moment he’s going to pass out.

he can barely stand; his head is so fucking tingly he can’t think, his tongue is numb, and he’s buzzing. his fingernails are digging into the palm of his hand, but he still can't focus.

“more… fuck, stop.”

grabbing the back of your head and pushing his hips so his dick is fucking the back of your throat, he doesn’t go more than 30 seconds without finishing all down your throat.

your hands find your thighs, quickly squeezing, and he groans, pulling out and grabbing your arm, turning you around, and snatching down your pajama pants.

a warm sensation is running down his nose; he doesn’t even care that he has a nosebleed because he slides himself in deep, another low groan coming out of him and a choked-out sob.

the aphrodisiac makes it out like you're squeezing him tighter than you actually are; it feels so good he cums right on impact, sobbing. his forehead dropping to your back, his hands on your hips tight.

“baby?”

trying to turn towards him, but his grip on you is tight, he starts thrusting again, more drool dripping out of his mouth. he keeps crying and cumming.

it's only been ten minutes, and when he pulls out, so much cum is coming out of you, and he stares at it, his dick bright red and still stiff. his eyes glow a little, and he groans and collapses on the floor, passing out.

he stood no chance with you and an aphrodisiac.

ke1rinn

Satoru Gojo and his jealous wife — ✧

Author’s notes: short fic to re-introduce this blog again! Helloooo satoru gojo

Satoru Gojo loved you with his life. You were the one he trusted the most. He’d go as far as to say he would quit jujutsu if you told him to.

It was a sight to see, the strongest, the honored one, reduced to a lovesick mess at the mere say of his wife. It was undeniably funny.

And just as how he was devoted to you, you were to him. He’d look at you as if you hung the moon and the stars that surround it.

So, when he caught wind that told him you were upset, his first instinct was to comfort you and make you feel better. He didn’t expect you to be upset because of him.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart? Why are you pouting?” He said softly, a complete contrast from his usual personality. You didn’t respond, choosing to keep scrolling through your phone.

“Is it ‘cause of me? You can tell me, love, I won’t get mad,” he continued, moving his hand up and down his arm to get you to break. He was close to you as you both sat on the couch of your shared home, the TV playing in the background. You looked up at him, and it was clear as day how upset you were. “You mad at me, love?”

“…No,” you said, almost choking on your words. Well, technically, it was true. In some way. In a sense.

“Sweetheart, are you lying?” He knew you were, thanks to his six eyes, but he was still so gentle with it.

“I don’t know, go ask your little assistant,” you muttered under your breath, your focus going back to your phone.

So that’s what this was about. He let out a sigh of relief, in which you glared at him. “Are you jealous, love?” He used the same, gentle, comforting tone, so as to not dampen up your mood more.

“I’m not,” you stubbornly said, not looking at him in embarrassment. He caught your chin, making you look at him.

“My love. The light of my life. My biggest blessing. The apple of my eye. My—“

“Stop it, Toru…” You whined, covering his mouth to stop him from continuing. He chuckled, pulling your wrist away from his face, then cradling your face in his hand and looked at you with much love.

“You’re adorable, you know that?”

“Not helping,” your frown deepened while his smile widened. He pulled you closer, catching you in his embrace, pressing your face in his chest as he stroked your hair in comfort, combing through the strands.

“You’re the only one I want. Don’t get jealous over someone I barely know. I don’t want you frowning,” he mumbled in your hair as he felt your hands hug him back, albeit reluctantly.

“I love you, okay? Only you,” he whispered, only for your ears to hear, as he kissed the top of your head.

“…Mmm,” you hummed into his shoulder.

“Babe.”

“…I love you, too.”

gyarujo

❛ 𝗪𝗘 𝗖𝗔𝗡’𝗧 𝗕𝗘 𝗙𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗡𝗗𝗦! 呪術廻戦

synopsis. satoru is sick and tired of pretending to be just friends

contents. sfw! hurt / comfort. best friend! gojo x fem! reader. no-curse au. second part of this fic. mutual pining. classic case of miscommunication. idiots in love. happy ending! they get together despite me wanting to leave this unresolved ࿐

satoru isn’t beside you when your eyes flutter open to see the slithers of sunlight filtering through your curtains. you think nothing of it because you know he’s halfway through making you breakfast.

( you’re a light sleeper — a fact he constantly teases you about — and you’d stirred when he’d slipped out from your sheets half an hour ago, the loss of his warmth a brief disturbance in your deep, alcohol-induced slumber. you’d gone back to sleep knowing you would meet him in the kitchen when you finally mustered up the strength to get out of bed. )

the air in your apartment is thick with the scent of melted butter, sweet batter, and the sharp, clean tang of citrus. you’re ravenous, to say the least. and you could kill for a stack of satoru’s perfect pancakes right now. or french toast. or even a regular jam and butter sandwich. he’s infuriatingly great at everything he does, and cooking is no exception.

a groan escapes your lips as your hangover makes itself known. it’s an insistent throb behind your eyes that threatens to blossom into a full-blown headache if not dealt with accordingly. and there, on your polished nightstand, arranged with precision are: a little sachet of ibuprofen, a fruit punch flavored foil packet of electrolyte powder, and a tall, sweating bottle of water.

( satoru always knows exactly what you need before you do. it’s like he has a sixth sense just for you )

you rip the electrolyte packet open, the crimson powder puffing up in a small cloud as you pour it into the water. it swirls and dissolves, turning the liquid into something that looks alarmingly like blood.

you take a long gulp regardless, letting the sugary liquid pool in your mouth before you drop the two pills in and swallow. you lean against the headboard for a moment, letting the medicine and the sugar work their magic whilst you take in the state of your room. it’s a disaster.

your bra and that stupid, overpriced dress are a heap of silk and lace by the foot of your bed, reminiscent of the date that ended in tears and satoru’s arms around you. you kick them aside, the fabric whispering against the wooden floorboards as you pad to the bathroom to brush your teeth.

you’re going through the motions on autopilot. up, down, up, down. minty froth covers your teeth and gums. it’s a welcome distraction from the lingering bitterness of last night’s champagne. you swirl with some mouthwash, alcohol burning your tongue, and then you’re finally ready, finally heading towards the kitchen.

doviled

you love how possessive satoru is.

you’re well aware that your relationship with satoru isn’t exactly normal. people seem to think you have no clue, but you’ve never been ignorant. for all the casual jokes and whining clinginess, you can tell your boyfriend is deeply, possessively in love with you.

it shows in everything he does. satoru likes to hide it behind a veneer of playfulness. you don’t mind. in all reality, you find it pretty cute—the doting, the teasing, the silly jokes that all veil that intense want that lurks in him. he wants you so bad it’s impossible to ignore. no, more than that: he needs you so much it bleeds into everything he does.

he’s teasing when he winds an arm around your waist, joking when he drops his chin on your head and pulls you away from whoever you were talking to. there’s a casual, unspoken jealousy to the action, but he’s so good at pretending it’s just gojo being clingy. it’s just what everyone expects of him. you’re the only one that knows better. you can see the angry glint in his eye, hear the way satoru’s heart picks up in his chest every time you reciprocate. you’re the only one he lets past infinity, the reason he’s been working to make it cover you as well. he just can’t bear to see other people touching you—you don’t blame him, do you?

best of all, you’re the only one that sees him desperate, that gets to watch him unwind. he worships you. you don’t have sex as much as you make love, his hands roving your body and plucking sweet moans from between your lips. satoru will murmur as he takes you, voice unbearably vulnerable and unspeakably intimate. “no one else can make you feel like this, baby,” he says on a moan. on the next, quiet and sure, “even better, i’m the only one that gets to see you like this. they don’t even know what they’re missing out on. i won’t let them ever find out.” he holds you tightly, kisses you ardently, and if you let him, he’ll fuck you until his legs give out. until he has no more love left to give.

so maybe you’re a little too encouraging. so what? who cares if you let your gaze linger on another man just to watch satoru’s eyes sharpen? what does it matter if you’ll play ignorant to another man’s advances, just to revel in the way satoru steps in and stakes his territory?

sex like that is even better. satoru gets mad, possessive—not at you, never at you. but your entire body becomes a canvas for him to stake his claim on, and it makes him rough. he’ll grip you until you bruise, kiss you until your lip splits, fuck you deep and hard so that you wake up the next morning sore, just so he can dote on you all over again.

“he’s so needy,” utahime complains to you one day, after he’d dragged you home from an event. he’d claimed he just wanted you all to himself for a moment, to get away from such boring company. it’s more honest than everyone suspects. he really does hate to see you talking to other people. “he wants to leave, and you leave. he hates when you talk to other guys. i swear, whenever you’re not paying attention to him, it’s like the sun’s frozen over. and then he has to act up until you’re looking at him again. how can you handle a guy that clingy?”

“i think it’s cute,” you reply. “i like how much he likes me. makes me feel like i’m the only girl in the world, you know?”

utahime snorts. “he sure seems to think so. remember last week? it’s like he didn’t even realise that girl was flirting with him.”

he hadn’t. or maybe he had, and satoru simply revels in your jealousy as much as you do his. you’d attached yourself to him like a limpet, fingers curling around his bicep as your head leant against his shoulder. you were polite to a fault until you chased her off, so clingy that satoru couldn’t tear his eyes away. in the end, he’d barely said three words to the girl before you monopolised all of his attention. he’d grinned wide and proud, and been twice as clingy as you were thereafter.

(when you got home, well. you’d been on top, riding him to a slow climax while he stared up at you worshipfully. his thumbs rub circles into your thighs, and with every rock of your hips, he lets loose an unabashed groan. he’s so free in his pleasure, so open about how good you make him feel. satoru never lets you doubt how perfect you are for him.

he comes first, for once. heaves and whines into your mouth even as he tells you to keep going, tells you that i’m sorry i want you so bad, baby. that doesn’t mean you need to stop—take me for all i’ve got, kay? he whispers those promises until you follow him over the edge, curled on top of him and breathing deep against his collarbone.

“you’ll never leave me, will you?” he asks, except he doesn’t say it like a question. he says it like a vow.

“never,” you promise. “you’d be dead before i let you get rid of me.”)

ryoride

Gojo definitely cried after losing his virginity, btw. Your cheek pressed to the muscle of his chest, snoring softly as he swept his thumb over your shoulder—he couldn't hold back the tears, sobbing quietly as it all hit him.

For once he wasn't just the strongest, or a sorcerer, a weapon, or whatever the fuck the elders expected from him; for the first time he found someone who just wanted him to be himself and wasn't scared of what they saw—seeing past the rough edges to the soft, adoring, vulnerable & intimate parts he himself hadn't seen till that moment.

madamechrissy

please, please, please

You love being Satoru Gojo's girlfriend, he dotes on you, takes you on dates, spoils you - just one little problem, you are perpetually ovulating around him! Is wanting your nerdy boyfriend's cock in your mouth really such a bad thing? Satoru wants to wait for the perfect moment for your first time, though! He'll totally wait even when you're wearing that slutty lil dress and grinding on him, right?

pairings - nerd! gojo x girlfriend! reader

warnings - cute and silly, oral over panties/boxers, Satoru edging tf outta us -- reader is horny, Shoko/Hime, Sukuna being a fratboy dick, jealous Toru, rough blow jobs, p in v sex, first time, squirting, teasing, fingering, creampie, consent, breed kink, making your nerdy boyfriend feral and spit in your mouth <3

art creds here!!

this was a comm for my angel @cantarcantar!! ty for understanding that my life was like INSANE - ilysm for being patient <3 wc - 10.1k

It took you almost two years of crushing on Satoru Gojo to actually become his girlfriend, and you’re loving every minute of it. From being too damn shy to admit you like him, to very awkwardly trying to confess and every chance just utterly failing – to then instead becoming the very best of friends.

You two were finally ‘officially together’ as a couple.

Oh, and it was everything, being in his arms, swallowed up by those huge biceps he had hidden underneath his starch white dress shirts. Hearing that little laugh from his lips, all of those sweet little kisses he bestowed upon you – truly, all the feelings blossoming between the two of you in the most beautiful way, especially over the months of truly being his girlfriend.

He’d take you out for all day movie marathons, going to play bumper cars, mini golf, you name it – Satoru was down for it. Every date was a meticulously planned out one too, with little to no down time aside from the drive to and from. Perhaps that’s where you would sneak just the littlest pecks on his neck, hear his sighs as he gripped the gear shift of that fancy sports car.

Satoru adored you – and you adored him.

You were all his. There was no one else in the entire world than the boy who could never quite tie that tie on correctly, always just a little crooked for you to straighten out.

Yet with that came you being unreasonably horny all the fucking time, who wouldn’t be with Satoru though? Those long fingers pressing into your waist, the way that bulge pressed between your thighs, plump lips slipping up your throat. Every time it even got just a little close, maybe you were grinding so good that you were about to cum from that – he paused it.

Wearing a cute, bashful little smile on his face, fogged up, thick rimmed glasses – murmuring sweetheart in a voice that’s designed to make your pussy drip, and you feel like a complete pervert for wanting to beg for more. God, imagining his cock in your throat alone had you desperate and needy, let alone having him filling you, pumping you full, taking you first.

Maybe you are a pervert, truly.

You’ve tried so hard to be patient, you want him to want it as badly as you do, but every time you’re making out with your boyfriend – the top of the dean’s list and ultimate dungeon master for DnD – Satoru Gojo?

Every time his big ass hands grip your waist and he drags you down against his length, before he puts a pause on it?

You can’t even think about it.

g00miato

sandwich 😌

mikaiswolfsbane

★Emperor Geto needs an heir

tags: emperor! geto x army general! reader. childhood friends to lovers. banter. mutual pining. angst at first. porn with plot. unprotected sex. breeding kink . smut is actually in this fic. it is not an april fools prank this time✌️

WC: 2.3k

Finally a wave of peace stretched over the horizon like the end of a rainy season, the war against curses had not been a fruitless one. truly the kaisen empire was on the brink of a greatness that the land had never seen before.

the eastern province, where most of the combat occurred had begun its extensive reconstruction, families returning to newly built homes, schools being refurbished, and the communities efforts to help create memorials for those lost. the southern provinces also had a boost in vitality as this year's harvest was far more than plentiful, ranging from all sorts of fruits and wheat.

and yet for emperor suguru, something felt missing—or rather someone. day after day soldiers returned running into the arms of their loved ones, with each battalion returning the ache in his heart growing more intractable.

he would often saunter through the green gardens, high off nostalgia and sorrow. near a flowing river he'd rest his back against it, simply letting the calm atmosphere soothe his mind. above his head, rested two initials dried up with time.

the memory of two children running together, one holding up a stick and determination plastered on their face and the other stumbling as they tried to catch up to them. just as he dared to uncover bits of a memory he held dear, the weight of responsibility and honour came crashing down.

as mindlessly as he came was the same way he left. he sits perched up on his throne scrolls and letters flying faster than he could manage. he turns head to the large pane of stained glass, the hue emitting an interesting yellow.

suguru doesn't even pay attention to the sound of footsteps ricocheting off the marble floors, not even to the hordes of guards exiting the room. he merely assumed a council member wished to speak privately. in his periphery a flash of black and gold robes finally captures his attention.

“one would assume that a person of my calibre would receive a welcoming party.” suguru's head snapping in the direction of the voice, relief crashing over him like a wave.

“you assume wrong.” he taunts, your steps getting closer and closer, stopping just before the carpet ends. your gaze connecting with his.

“well then, it appears my efforts are not being appreciated.”

“clearly your time on the battlefield has done nothing placate that insolence of yours,” suguru cocks his head, an amused smile playing on his lips.

“insolence? i know not of what you speak of, your highness.”

“is that so? you have been here two minutes, and i have yet to receive so much as a bow.”

“pardon my rudeness, i had not recognised that you'd prefer such faux pleasantries.” you bow, your garments brushing against the ground.

“i do not…” he trail off before the two of you burst into contagious laughter, the kind that spurs your lungs to run out of breath.

maintaining distance was something the council had urged him to do, yet to no avail.

suguru steps down from the elevated dais, his arms outstretched in a hug prompting you to reciprocate. a genuine smile craved into his features, his eyes resembling small crescent moons pleased at the sight of his sun.

“arrogance does not suit you, suguru.” your voice muffled by his imperial robes. he lays his head atop yours, a gentle hum rumbling through his chest. his current goal was to just hold you, not to waste anymore precious time participating in meaningless customs.

“are you done now?” you say patting his back.

“no.”

suguru tugs you closer wanting to take in the comfort you brought him, only for it to illicit a small wince from you. he pulls back—hands bee-lining for you arms, pulling the sleeves to look for wounds.

“you’ve been injured…” he sighs, it was no secret that you revelled in the thrill of fighting, so much so that you often disregarded your safety to achieve your goals.

there were countless times where he observed the rigurous training you put your subordinates under. was it harsh? no. through? yes. when it came to preparing the for the battlefield, you left no stone unturned.

from an objective perspective suguru could see why you had earned the title of general. fierce determination, skill, grit and compassion were all traits you possessed, things that made a exemplary army general.

not to mention the way you captivated an audience. on the very rare days he witnessed you fight, he couldnt help but admired the elated expression painted on your face as you cut through hoardes of curses, the way your swordsmanship mimicked a hypnotising dance.

your robes would flutter in the air like a delicate butterfly gliding across a field of flowers, it was like the earth would cease its movements as your attention locks in on your opponent, you twist your blade landing a precise slash on the curse.

however he couldn't deny the great deal of stress it gave him.

lifting you hand, suguru inspects your arm much like how you would survey the quality of your blades, your mouth begins to form an excuse but the glare he gave you was enough to shut up.

“show me. i know you're hiding it.” he grumbles out.

“no need to fret, suguru, the physician was on my next stop from here.” you bat your eyelashes as you attempted to use every trick under the sun to distract him from the open gash on your shoulder.

weakness was something you'd rather not display, even if it was him who got to witness it. “come.” suguru says, his voice calm and soothing.

his hand wraps around yours, gently tugging you down the intricate corridors of the palace, halls that reminded of time where there was no pressure on you two. no pressure to perform just two children running from the head cook's spatula, biscuits in hand.

he pushes the door open, a familiar sight came into view, a canopy bed of red and gold silk sheets, potted plants on the corners and window seals of the room.

moonlight and a dim later were the only things giving the room light. suguru's features only grew more sharper, his hand trailing your waist, hoisting you up and on to the counter.

he opens a drawer pulling a box of supplies you forced him to keep. no matter how busy you were you always managed to worry about him. how ironic considering you did not want your kindness returned.

he twists open a bottle of aloe vera you had an apothecary make, putting it on the counter next to you.

“are you going to tell me where it is or should I find it myself?” he lets out, the intense of his gaze only worsening your ability to maintain composure. your hands slip off half the robe off your shoulder, a long and deep gash from your collar bone to shoulder.

“you can save your chiding for another day, perhaps if I return home with a far more serious injury.” you pull his cheek, earning an amused scoff from you.

the air between you two was growing more stifling by the second, the feeling of cool aloe gel against your skin only served to heighten your awareness of him.

suguru's lips slowly part as he wraps the clean gauze around your shoulder, ensuring his touches were nothing but gentle. luckily for him the room was dark enough to hide the glaringly obvious blush painted across his ears and cheeks.

madamechrissy

Ricochet

You're a young college professor teaching English Lit and history, you don't live an insanely exciting life - no, you enjoy spending time at home with a good book and a glass of red. You're perfectly content until a certain student sets his pretty blue eyes on you - senior Satoru Gojo. Obsessed with you, Satoru starts following you everywhere, observing and waiting. He just wants you to realize that he's the only one for you, and he'll do anything to make sure you throw your 'ethics' right out of the window.

pairings - college student! Gojo x professor! reader

warnings - absolutely MDNI! this story has yandere content (babytrapping/stalking) Satoru 22, reader 30, reverse professor trope, power dynamics, push and pull. this part - breed kink, breed kink, breed kink LMAO - like no, he rly needs you pregnant I'm so sry - so a LOT of cum, oral (m receiving) dom/sub elements, yandere, psycho ass Gojo who wants to chain you up, thigh fucking, overstim, possessive red flag behaviors

tysm for @lizatonix for proofreading this chap for me!!! <3 I love you SO MUCH! I only have one more chap after this ahhhh my bbs!

<<<part six - masterlist - final part(soon)

part seven

It’s too intimate once Satoru Gojo gets to the front porch of your home, the never-ending rain still pounding on your awning, lightning illuminating the sky behind Satoru’s tall body. His lips are descending onto yours as the two of you drip onto the little welcome rug by your front door, heart pounding, your eyes looking up into Satoru’s now – dark with need.

“It’s always raining with us,” he murmurs, you can’t help but giggle breathlessly at that, watching the lightning flash, highlighting his perfect cheeks, his plump lips in a little smile.

“It always is,” you tug him inside, and of course Fluffy the traitor just cracks one of those cute blue eyes open, all curled up on the little fluffy bed Satoru bought her last week, that tail wrapping, flickering just a bit. “Yeah, Fluffy – I know.”

Satoru laughs and kicks the door shut, the sound echoing and mixing with his sharp exhale, as he studies your silhouette, the way your dress was literally clinging to every curve of your body. “She loves that bed, hmm?”

“She does,” Satoru slips off his jacket, letting it fall with a thud – his white dress shirt plastered to his chest from the spray of rain, outlining every muscle until your throat goes dry just looking at him.

His hair is a dripping wet mess, the usually fluffy strands plastered against his forehead, those lashes dripping and spiked together. You ache more for him than you knew was possible, all the thoughts of what was happening before, of his parents, of your career fading to this singular moment.

You’d do anything to have him look at you like this forever.

Saroru’s long fingers trace the line of your jaw, ever so gently, but he’s trembling just a bit, his hands shaking as he cups your face, leaning low – so big, his hands, his body, everything about him making you shrink just a bit. You always feel small with him, and it’s addictive, like somehow he will protect you from everything.

Even though that’s fucking insane, isn’t it?

“Turn around, sweetheart.”

You eagerly listen, and he laughs softly.

“You’re being such a good girl now,” he murmurs, his voice low and much darker than usual, one hand brushing the damp strands of your hair aside, you feel the coolness of your fan against your soaking wet skin. “You’re finally listening to me, hmm? You do wanna be a good girl?”

“Yes,” you are never in control with him, not really - it doesn’t matter that you’re the older one, that you’ve lived eight years longer. Satoru controls you, and you want it, you want to be a good girl as much as you want to not listen.

Let him smack your ass till you do.

Let him chain you like he threatens.

levitonin

Everyone shut the fuck up he's sleeping

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