a/n: I did this for a friend once and I just had to make this😭 (also for the person that made a request last week… I’m sorry but I’m sick rn and nothing I write is good but I promise to upload it this weekend or next week!)
Higuruma inventing law and immediately marrying into crime.
Kashimo starting a fight club as a marital enrichment activity.
Through all of this, Kusakabe has endured because Kusakabe understands a sacred truth: If the woman is stronger than you, be respectful from a safe distance.
This system has worked for many moons.
Kusakabe also has no mate.
This is intentional.
Mates create problems.
Mates require meat.
Mates expect protection.
Mates make men act stupid.
Kusakabe has watched strong men lose themselves to women.
Nanami went from respected hunter to pregnant-mate belly-rubber.
Toji got domesticated by a woman who used to consider eating him.
Sukuna, the king of all prehistoric rodents, now lets his mate braid his hair while threatening anyone who notices.
Gojo became whatever Gojo is now.
Kusakabe refuses this fate.
Kusakabe is free.
Kusakabe is safe.
Kusakabe is smort.
Then you notice him.
It happens during the Great Mammoth Disaster.
The hunting party returns early.
Why?
Because Gojo tried to adopt a baby mammoth.
The baby mammoth was not an orphan.
The mother mammoth won.
Gojo is upside down in a tree, laughing and bleeding from the forehead.
Nanami is carrying his pregnant mate away from the danger because she keeps trying to throw rocks at the father mammoth.
Toji is laughing because Gojo is stuck.
Sukuna wants to fight the mother mammoth.
His mate bites his arm until he stops.
Kashimo, Choso, and Ino won’t stop howling with laughter because Higuruma can’t sue the mammoth baby in court.
Kusakabe?
Kusakabe is doing the smartest thing.
He is hiding behind a boulder.
Perfectly still.
Breathing through his nose.
Sweating.
He has calculated distance.
He has identified escape routes.
He has already abandoned seven people in his heart.
Then the mammoth mother turns.
Looks directly at his boulder.
Kusakabe’s soul leaves his body through his butthole.
He slowly peeks around.
The mammoth huffs.
Kusakabe whispers a single grunt. (Mommy, please.)
The mammoth Wonder Woman charges.
Kusakabe screams.
He runs.
Fast.
So fast.
The fastest he has ever run in his life.
His feet and hands barely touch ground.
His wig flies with the wind.
His eyes are wide with the beautiful terror of a man who wants to continue breathing.
He vaults over a fallen log.
Grabs a vine by accident.
Swings across a ditch.
Lands painfully on his ass.
Keeps running.
The tribe watches.
Someone gasps.
That someone is you.
You are crouched on a rock, eating berries.
You came to watch the mammoth panic for entertainment.
But now you see him.
Kusakabe.
Stressed.
Sweaty.
Eyes wild.
Mouth open in horror.
Moving with the desperate grace of a hedgehog that has lost his mom.
Your berry falls from your hand.
Your pupils widen.
Your prehistoric brain lights up.
Kusakabe runs past your rock.
You inhale his fear-sweat.
Your entire body locks.
Strong scent.
Fast legs.
Good survival.
Excellent anxiety.
Perfect mate.
You stand.
Kusakabe keeps running.
The mammoth slows, bored now that Gojo has fallen out of the tree and become more interesting.
Kusakabe reaches the riverbank and collapses onto all fours.
Panting.
Alive.
He has survived again.
Then a shadow falls over him.
He looks up.
You stand above him.
Holding your half-eaten berry basket at your waist.
Kusakabe squints.
You stare.
He stares back.
You sniff.
Kusakabe freezes.
Bad.
Very bad.
You crouch.
Sniff again.
Closer.
Kusakabe leans back.
Grunts. (Can help you?)
You tilt your head.
Then grin.
Wide.
Hungry.
Possessive. (Mate.)
Kusakabe’s blood turns to ice.
He points at himself and grunts. (Me?)
You grunt back. (Mate.)
Kusakabe shakes his head immediately. (NO.)
You grin harder.
He stands.
Steps back.
You step forward.
He steps back again.
You step forward again.
The tribe notices.
Gojo, being chased by his own wife now, wheezes. (Atsuya got chosen.)
Nanami looks over, sighs.
Kusakabe hates that.
Toji grins. (Run.)
Kusakabe does.
You chase.
Because this is courtship.
Kusakabe disagrees. Strongly.
He runs through the camp.
You run after him.
He dodges around fire pits.
You leap over them.
He ducks behind Higuruma.
You shove Higuruma aside with one arm and hand him the berry basket for Neanderthal aerodynamics.
Higuruma, from the dirt, grunts. (Assault. Crime.)
You do not care.
Kusakabe grabs a basket and throws it behind him.
You crash through it.
Ijichi’s berries are now everywhere.
Kashimo screams because those were for his mate.
Kashimo’s mate roars from somewhere in the distance.
Kusakabe runs faster.
You laugh.
Kusakabe dives behind Nanami.
Nanami looks at him.
Kusakabe grips Nanami’s leg. Grunts. (Help.)
Nanami looks at you.
You stand there, breathing hard, eyes fixed on Kusakabe like he is the last warm cave in winter.
Nanami looks back at Kusakabe.
Then gently removes Kusakabe’s hands from his leg.
Grunts. (Your problem.)
Treason.
Kusakabe scrambles away.
You follow.
He climbs a tree.
He has never climbed with romantic pressure before.
His foot slips twice.
His loincloth almost catches on bark.
He reaches a branch and clings to it like a dying lizard.
You stand below.
Look up.
Smile.
Then start climbing.
Fast.
Too fast.
Kusakabe whimpers.
Gojo appears on the next branch over, thrilled. (Oooh. She climb good.)
Kusakabe hisses. (Go away.)
Gojo grins. (Mate hunt. Beautiful.)
Kusakabe kicks him.
Gojo falls.
You are almost at Kusakabe’s branch.
Kusakabe looks down.
Too high.
Looks at you.
Too close.
Looks at nearby vine.
Suspicious.
But better.
He grabs it.
Swings.
For one glorious second, Kusakabe flies.
Free.
Untouchable.
A master of escape.
Then the vine snaps.
He falls into the river.
SPLASH!!!
You land on the bank.
Lean over.
Kusakabe’s head pops up.
Hair plastered to his face.
Eyes furious.
Dignity gone.
You clasp your hands to your chest.
Oh.
Wet too.
Even better.
You are in love.
Kusakabe tries to hide after that.
He chooses a small cave far from the main camp.
He covers the entrance with branches.
Smears mud over himself to mask scent.
Breathes slowly.
A flawless plan.
Outside, footsteps pass slowly.
Kusakabe presses both hands over his mouth.
You sniff.
Kusakabe’s eyes widen.
You crouch outside the cave entrance.
Long silence.
Then your hand punches through the branch cover and grabs his ankle.
Kusakabe screams.
You drag him out.
He claws at dirt.
Grunts. (NO MATE. NO MATE. I BAD MATE. VERY BAD. USELESS. SCARED.)
You pull him closer.
Study his face.
He is sweating again.
Terrified.
Struggling.
Hot.
You nod approvingly. (Good mate. Very alive.)
Kusakabe wheezes. (That is low standard.)
You pat his cheek.
He stops.
Your hand is warm.
Your face is close.
Your eyes are direct.
Kusakabe’s brain makes one dangerous observation.
You are pretty.
He hates his brain.
He immediately tries to crawl backward again.
You grab his wrist.
He freezes.
You grunt. (Mate come cave.)
He shakes his head.
You narrow your eyes.
He points at the forest.
Then at himself.
Then makes running fingers. (Translation: I must go somewhere important.)
You squint. (Where?)
Kusakabe points vaguely. (There.)
You look.
It is a bush.
You look back.
He nods seriously.
The bush is important.
You slowly release his wrist.
Kusakabe stands.
Walks toward the bush.
Calm.
Dignified.
Then bolts.
You wait two heartbeats.
Then chase.
Because now you understand.
Mate likes game.
Fine.
You like game too.
The chase lasts three days.
Kusakabe runs across the valley.
You follow.
He crosses river.
You swim.
He climbs cliff.
You climb faster.
He joins a traveling group of rival Neanderthals for disguise.
You walk into their camp, sniff once, grab him by the back of his fur, and drag him out while the rival tribe beats their chest to your dominance.
Kusakabe tries hiding under dead leaves.
You step directly on his ass.
He yelps.
You grin.
Kusakabe tries pretending to be dead.
You squat beside him.
Poke his cheek.
He stays limp.
You try to look below his loincloth.
He twitches.
You lean down and lick his jaw.
He shoots upright.
You beam.
Alive.
Good.
Kusakabe tries bargaining with Higuruma.
Higuruma listens carefully.
Kusakabe explains through frantic grunts. (Woman pursuing me across earth. I refuse mate. Need law. Protection.)
Higuruma nods.
Very serious.
Then turns to you.
You stand behind Kusakabe, holding flowers in one hand and a club in the other.
Higuruma grunts. (Did she hurt you?)
Kusakabe opens mouth.
Stops.
Technically?
No.
Mostly fear.
Some dragging.
One lick.
Psychological collapse.
Higuruma waits.
Kusakabe deflates.
Higuruma nods. (No crime.)
Kusakabe stares.
You offer Higuruma’s criminal mate flowers.
She accepts.
Case closed.
Kusakabe runs again.
By the fourth day, Kusakabe is exhausted.
His feet hurt.
His throat is dry.
His hair looks like a bird nested in it and gave up.
He has crossed half the Neanderthal earth.
You are still behind him.
Cheerful.
Carrying food items.
At some point, you start feeding him during the chase.
He pauses to catch breath behind a rock.
A piece of roasted meat appears beside his face.
He stares.
You are crouched on top of the rock.
Holding it out. (Good mate run far. Eat.)
Kusakabe hesitates.
His stomach growls.
You wiggle the meat.
He takes it.
Chews.
It is good.
Damn it.
You grin.
He swallows. Grunts. (Still no mate.)
You nod.
Then point into the distance. (Run more.)
Kusakabe stares.
You have turned his rejection into exercise.
He hates you.
He runs.
You chase.
But something changes after the food.
You keep him alive.
When he trips, you yank him up before hyenas reach him.
When he takes the wrong path, you throw a rock near his foot to redirect him away from a snake pit.
When he collapses from thirst, you roll him into the shade and dump water into his mouth until he coughs.
When a rival hunter tries to grab him, you appear from behind and bonk the man into a tree.
Kusakabe watches from the ground, panting.
The rival hunter slides down the trunk.
You dust your hands.
Turn to Kusakabe and smile. (Mate safe.)
Kusakabe’s heart does the stupid thing again.
He looks away and grunts. (I did not ask.)
You shrug. (Safe anyway.)
How dare you be terrifying and competent.
How dare you chase him to the ends of the earth and bring meat.
The final escape happens at sunset.
Kusakabe finds a narrow canyon.
Perfect.
One path in.
One path out.
Loose rocks overhead.
If he moves fast enough, he can slip through, knock down stones, block the way, and finally lose you.
He almost respects himself for thinking of it.
He runs into the canyon.
You follow.
He sprints.
You laugh behind him.
He reaches the loose rock wall.
Grabs a branch.
Pulls.
Rocks tumble.
The path collapses behind him.
Kusakabe staggers forward.
Free.
Actually free.
He turns.
The canyon is blocked.
You are on the other side.
Hidden by dust.
Kusakabe breathes hard.
His chest rises.
Falls.
He waits.
No sound.
He steps closer.
Dust clears.
The rocks are bigger than he expected.
Too big.
Too much.
His stomach drops.
Grunts. (Woman?)
Silence.
Kusakabe’s mouth goes dry.
He scrambles to the rock pile.
Pulls at stones.
They barely move.
His fingers scrape.
Blood beads under his nails.
He pulls harder. (Woman?)
Nothing moves.
Panic hits.
Real panic.
Not mammoth panic.
Not mating panic.
Worse.
Because he caused this.
He buried you.
Because he wanted to run.
Because he kept running.
Kusakabe digs.
Hard.
Furious.
A stone cuts his palm.
He keeps going.
Then he hears it.
A grunt.
Muffled.
Irritated.
Kusakabe almost collapses.
He presses his face near a gap, grunts. (Alive?)
From behind the rocks, your voice comes. (Alive.)
His whole body loosens.
Then your grunt comes again. (Mate worried?)
Kusakabe freezes.
Even trapped under canyon rocks, you are smug.
He grits his teeth and grunts. (No.)
From behind the wall a laugh breaks. (Liar.)
Kusakabe exhales.
Then starts digging again.
This time, he does not stop.
By nightfall, the tribe finds him.
Nanami arrives with Toji and Sukuna.
Gojo arrives too, because drama smells better than food.
They see Kusakabe covered in dust, hands bleeding, moving stones one by one.
Nanami’s expression shifts.
Toji whistles low.
Sukuna grins.
Gojo gasps. (He digging for mate.)
Kusakabe snaps. (SHE IS NOT—)
A rock shifts.
Your hand pops through the gap and grabs his wrist.
Kusakabe shuts up.
The tribe goes silent.
You squeeze his wrist.
Warm.
Alive.
Kusakabe grips back.
Hard.
Sukuna looks delighted.
Gojo looks emotional.
Together, the men move the rocks.
It takes effort.
By the time they pull you free, you are scratched and dusty.
You step out.
Kusakabe reaches for you before he can stop himself.
Checks your face.
Your arms.
Your side.
You let him.
Your eyes stay fixed on him.
He realizes everyone is watching.
He drops his hands.
You tilt your head, grunt softly. (Mate worried.)
Kusakabe closes his eyes.
He cannot deny it anymore.
He could run from mammoth.
Run across valley.
Run to rival tribes.
Run until his feet split.
But the second you vanished under stone, he dug like a man losing his own lungs.
You step closer.
Kusakabe does not step back.
The tribe gasps.
Gojo grabs Nanami’s arm.
Nanami removes Gojo’s hand without looking.
You lift hand slowly.
Kusakabe tenses.
You cup his cheek.
His breath catches.
You grin. (Mate done running?)
Kusakabe looks at you.
Then at the tribe, waiting like vultures around a fresh corpse.
He sighs and grunts. (Mate stop chasing?)
You think.
Then shake your head.
Kusakabe’s eye twitches.
You grin wider. (Mate run. I chase. Good for legs.)
Gojo ruins the moment by laughing.
Kusakabe stares at you in horror.
Then you lean in and press your forehead to his.
His anger breaks under the contact.
You smell like dust, sweat, and the roasted meat you kept feeding him against his will.
Kusakabe mutters a tiny grunt. (Fine.)
Sukuna claps like a demon at a wedding.
Nanami sighs his most devastating sigh yet.
You beam.
Then reach for him.
Kusakabe stiffens.
Gojo inhales like he is about to ruin everything.
You grab Kusakabe’s wrist.
Then you turn his palm over.
His fingers are torn from digging.
Blood crusted under nails.
Skin scraped raw.
You stare.
Your smile drops.
Kusakabe’s stomach twists.
He knows that face.
That is the face mates make before inventing care.
Unnecessary.
Often wet.
You grunt. (Mate hands hurt.)
Kusakabe pulls back. (Hands fine.)
You grab his wrist again.
Stronger.
He stops.
You lick the dirt from his knuckles.
Kusakabe’s soul leaves his body through his ear.
The tribe screams.
Nanami closes his eyes.
Toji laughs so hard he has to sit down.
Sukuna looks impressed against his will.
Kusakabe yanks his hand back, red to his ears. (NO. NO MOUTH ON WOUND. DIRT. BAD.)
You blink.
Then nod.
This is good information.
Mate does not like mouth on wound.
Fine.
You will use better gift.
Kusakabe sees thought enter your eyes.
His blood chills.
He grunts. (Do not.)
You look up. (Do what?)
He points at your face. (That.)
You smile.
Kusakabe whispers a tiny death-noise.
By morning, you are gone.
Kusakabe wakes alone by the cold fire, wrapped in one of your furs.
Free.
He can leave.
Return to his small cave.
Smear mud over himself and pretend none of this happened.
He sits up.
Looks at the empty sleeping spot.
Sniffs.
Your scent is there.
Warm.
Dusty.
Meat-smoke.
Kusakabe stares at the fur.
Then slowly pulls it tighter around his shoulders.
Disgusting.
He is disgusting now.
Outside, Gojo peeks around a rock.
Kusakabe throws a pebble at him.
Gojo dodges, thrilled. (Mate sad?)
Kusakabe bares teeth. (Die.)
Gojo gasps with delight. (Mate sad.)
Kusakabe stands up to commit murder.
Gojo runs.
Across camp, you are committing science.
Prehistoric sticky science.
You crouch beside a flat warm stone near the fire pit with crushed sweet berries, honeycomb stolen from a very angry tree, thick sap scraped from bark, and a peeled twig.
Shoko watches from a safe distance.
Taking mental notes for future crimes.
You mash berries with a stone, drown them in stolen honey, then ruin the whole thing with too much sap.
The mixture clings to your fingers in red-gold strings.
You sniff.
Sweet.
Good.
You roll the sticky mash between your palms.
It sticks to both hands.
You growl.
Shoko snorts.
You glare.
She grunts. (Wet hands.)
You wet your hands.
The sticky ball behaves.
You press it around the peeled twig.
It slumps.
You add crushed nuts.
It holds.
Ugly.
Lumpy.
Shining.
A berry-honey lump on a stick.
The first lollipop is born.
It looks like a small animal organ.
You are proud.
Shoko leans closer, sniffs, and grunts. (Will kill?)
You frown.
Important question.
You look around.
A lizard sits on a rock.
You hold the sweet stick near it.
The lizard licks.
You wait.
It lives.
Runs away.
Good.
Mating gift safe. (Probably.)
You beam.
Meanwhile, Kusakabe is also suffering.
Because you like those thorn berries.
The dark ones near the west slope.
The ones guarded by cruel bushes with hooked thorns and small birds that scream when touched.
You like them.
He knows because you ate them during the mammoth disaster.
Because apparently Kusakabe remembers things now.
Disgusting.
So he goes to get them, secretly.
With dignity.
The thorn bush immediately tears his wrist.
Kusakabe hisses. (Evil plant.)
The plant does not care.
He reaches again.
Another thorn catches his hair.
He freezes.
A bird screams at him.
Kusakabe whispers. (I respect your home. I only need berries.)
The bird screams louder.
Kusakabe backs away.
Fine.
New plan.
A smarter plan.
He finds Naoya near the river, polishing a bone ornament and looking like he personally owns sunlight.
Naoya is lean, clean, sharp-eyed.
Too well-kept for a man who lives near mud.
He sees Kusakabe and immediately looks bored.
Kusakabe points toward the slope. (Naoya.)
Naoya does not move.
Kusakabe tries again. (Big berries there.)
Naoya’s eyes flick.
Kusakabe keeps his face blank.
Then, very carefully, he grunts. (Too high for most men.)
Naoya’s head turns.
There.
Hook in flesh.
Kusakabe adds, softer. (Thorns too sharp. Only strong hands maybe.)
Naoya’s mouth curls.
Smug.
He stands.
Straightens his ornaments and grunts. (Move. Useless older man.)
Kusakabe moves.
Naoya walks to the thorn bush like he has never been humbled by plant life.
Kusakabe follows at a safe distance.
Very safe.
Naoya reaches into the bush.
The bush eats him.
Thorns hook his arms.
His hair.
His fine fur.
His polished bone necklace.
Naoya goes still.
Kusakabe stares.
The bird screams.
Naoya’s eye twitches.
He grunts through his teeth. (Pull me out.)
Kusakabe tilts his head. (What?)
Naoya snarls. (Pull. Me. Out.)
Kusakabe looks around.
No one nearby.
Excellent.
He slowly steps forward and begins picking berries from the branches Naoya is trapped under.
Naoya stares at him.
Kusakabe drops berries into his pouch.
Naoya’s face darkens.
Kusakabe works faster.
Naoya grunts low. (You will die.)
Kusakabe nods. (After berries.)
Naoya lunges.
The thorns tighten.
He yelps.
Kusakabe has never felt so alive.
By the time he frees Naoya, the pouch is full.
Naoya is scratched.
His ornament is crooked.
A twig sticks out of his hair.
He looks betrayed by nature.
Kusakabe pats his shoulder.
A terrible mistake.
Naoya goes silent.
Kusakabe runs the fastest he has run since yesterday.
Naoya chases him for three body lengths, trips on a root, and hits the ground with a sound that humiliates the ancestors.
Kusakabe does not look back.
He is courting now.
Apparently this requires theft, manipulation, and cardio.
He hates it.
By sunset, you return to the edge of camp with your ugly sweet stick.
Kusakabe returns from the opposite side with scratched arms, a full berry pouch, and flowers tucked under one elbow.
The flowers are black, purple, and white.
Too pretty.
Too arranged.
Clearly stolen.
Suguru’s cult notices first.
A gasp ripples through the bone circle.
Suguru turns slowly.
His eyes land on Kusakabe’s stolen flowers.
His face empties.
Kusakabe freezes.
Suguru grunts. (Those shrine flowers.)
Kusakabe grips the bouquet.
Looks at you.
Looks at Suguru.
Calculates distance.
Escape paths.
Funeral probability.
Then he lifts the berries and flowers toward you.
You stare.
Your eyes widen.
Kusakabe looks away immediately. (For mate.)
The tribe goes silent.
A bird screams in the distance.
Naoya limps into camp behind him, covered in scratches, murder in his eyes.
He points at Kusakabe. (THIEF. COWARD. BUSH DEMON.)
Kusakabe does not react.
He is busy dying of embarrassment.
You take the berries and the flowers.
You sniff them.
Suguru’s cult whimpers.
Suguru’s feral mate, crouched beside him, grins with berry juice on her chin. (Good steal.)
Suguru closes his eyes like a priest losing funding.
You press the flowers to your chest.
Then shove your gift at Kusakabe.
The sticky lump wobbles on its twig.
Kusakabe stares.
It is red.
Gold.
Sticky.
Possibly alive.
He squints. (What this?)
You puff up. (Sweet stick.)
Kusakabe blinks.
You hold it closer. (For mate hands. No bite dirt. Eat sweet.)
He looks at your fingers.
Sticky.
Scraped.
Burned a little from warm stone.
You made this.
For him.
Because his hands hurt.
Because he dug you out.
Because he said no mouth on wound and you listened.
Kusakabe’s chest does the stupid thing again.
Worse this time.
He takes the sweet stick.
Carefully.
Sniffs.
Honey.
Berry.
Smoke.
Sap.
You.
He licks it once.
Kusakabe freezes.
Sweet.
Too sweet.
Sticky enough to trap his tongue.
Damn it.
He licks again.
Your whole face lights up.
Gojo clutches Nanami’s arm. (He like.)
Nanami removes Gojo’s hand.
Toji grins. (Atsuya got fed like baby.)
Kusakabe points the sweet stick at him. (I will put this in your eye.)
Sukuna laughs.
Naoya, still picking thorns from his arm, snarls. (That berry belongs to my blood effort.)
You grunt. (Good bush helper.)
Naoya’s face goes blank.
A total collapse of rank.
Kusakabe almost smiles.
Then you take one berry from the pouch and eat it.
You are happy with his berry in your mouth and your flowers against your chest.
Kusakabe looks away too late.
You step closer.
He does not step back.
You lift one berry to his mouth.
Kusakabe glares.
You wait.
Naoya bleeds quietly in the background.
Kusakabe opens his mouth.
You feed him.
He chews.
Tart.
Sharp.
Sweet after.
He hates that you know he likes it.
You grin. (Mate likes.)
Kusakabe grunts. (Sweet stick acceptable.)
You lean closer. (Berries acceptable?)
He looks at the pouch.
At the tribe watching like vultures with no shame.
Then at you.
He holds up the sweet stick.
You hold up the berries.
You bump them together like weapons before a hunt.
A mating courtship.
Apparently.
Kusakabe grunts. (Fine.)
You grin. (Mate.)
He looks away, licking honey from the stick before it drips onto his hand.
Softly, with the smallest surviving shred of dignity, he grunts back. (Mate.)
Gojo screams.
Nanami sighs.
Toji wins three furs from Sukuna.
Sukuna denies ever betting.
Suguru begins rebuilding his shrine with visibly worse flowers.
Naoya sits in the dirt, bleeding, furious, and defeated by fruit.
Higuruma starts carving a law about berry-based exploitation.
Choso asks if anyone wants advice.
Everyone ignores him.
And Kusakabe stands beside you.
Sticky-mouthed.
Scratched.
Chosen.
Still technically free.
He could run.
He takes another lick instead.
Damn it.
You trapped Atsuya with sugar lollipop invention.
A/N: Reader loved him to the point of invention.
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Series Masterlist | Masterlist
Lime green dividers are from @sisterlucifergraphics.
caregiver!Kusakabe x reader headcanons (╥﹏╥) p2
cw: mention of char. death(Yaga), post Shibuya Incident, clueless!Kusakabe, angst, grief, mention of panic attack, mention of depression, fluff
note: missing Yaga hours. just trying to strengthen my alliance with kusakabe girlies. SMAU at the end, as per usual by now. This time, it’s from the character’s pov though!
After the Shibuya Incident, Yaga was among those blamed for the tragedy, or his alleged participation was rather an excuse the higher-ups could use. While you were trying to regroup with the other students and make plans, the principal’s execution was carried out quietly, without causing panic.
Yaga didn’t try to warn you. He knew you’d be reckless enough to actually try to save him. You might even have managed to sneak into where he was held and press your hands against the glass, promising you’d break him out.
He didn’t want to watch you get caught and dragged away while yelling, thrashing, and insulting the higher-ups.
Yaga cared for you like an unofficial parental figure, and he didn’t want to risk your safety. Now, he probably misses his girl so, so much but hopes you won’t meet anytime soon.
Caregiver!Kusakabe is making sure of that.
• Caregiver!Kusakabe, who doesn’t give a shit about jujutsu politics if he’s honest but Yaga was really close to him, and he owes him anyway.
• Caregiver!Kusakabe, who thinks Jujutsu High is unsafe for you, not to mention wandering around with all the active colonies nearby. He even sees you wrestling with a non-sorcerer who recently got their technique and foolishly decided to use it outside the colonies.
• Caregiver!Kusakabe, who just takes you in. Pack your bags, kiddo, you’re coming with me Why? Well… about that…
• Caregiver!Kusakabe, who is completely clueless about what people your age need or like. Sure, he’s seen you before, tagging along with Yaga to meetings and missions, forcing everyone in the car to listen to your favorite songs. But witnessing you up close is different. Every action will have a consequences and Caregiver!Kusakabe can’t just say anything anymore. It doesn’t help that you completely fall apart upon hearing the news.
• Caregiver!Kusakabe, who speaks gruffly but tries to create a welcoming atmosphere. He makes you warm soup and piles pillows in the guest room so you can hide there as long as you want.
• Caregiver!Kusakabe, who doesn’t sleep during the first week. You’re calm and collected during the day, but when night falls, it’s like your brain switches to dark mode and you spiral. You cry about not knowing what to do, about wanting Yaga back, and Caregiver!Kusakabe suspects you’re having panic attacks. It’s messy and ungraceful. Used tissues all around you, your face is all puffy and your head hurts from crying so much.
At first, he just lies in his bed, listening to your muffled voice from the other room. Even though there’s guilt in him for not doing anything, Caregiver!Kusakabe can’t bring himself to face you like that yet.
Caregiver!Kusakabe’s main concern is you slipping into depression. That’s never a good thing but in the middle of the chaos, it’s even less ideal and could be dangerous. You need to be on top of your game.
“You’re following a routine, right?”
“Do you experience a loss in your interests?”
“We can… talk… or whatever.”
All sentences spoken with discomfort. He tried looking things up on the internet to monitor your mental well-being. Unfortunately, it’s a touchy subject and you tend to push him away.
He has no idea where the line is or exactly what to do, meanwhile, he’s mourning too. An unlucky combo, so he remains careful with what he does.
Caregiver!Kusakabe then finally sits on the edge of your bed at 3 a.m., telling you that you’re unharmed as you curl up and sob. At this point, you’re pretty shameless about it. The uneven breaths, the occasional urge to pull at your hair, the unladylike swearing, you let it all out.
The poor man has no idea what else to say, he’s just trying to reassure both of you. You’re unharmed, you’re unharmed, you’re unharmed…
In a way, he’s made himself responsible for you, so he actually worries about what happens to you. Plus, Yaga would punch him in the afterlife if you got hurt.
• Caregiver!Kusakabe, who sometimes cannot bear to look at you. For sentimental reasons, you have some of the principal’s belongings. He feels sad and empty seeing you wear a t-shirt that clearly isn’t your size, emblazoned with Yaga’s favourite band logos.
Sometimes your mannerisms reflect his, likely picked up unconsciously. It’s amusing to see a girl your age raise a fist in anger and even more so when she actually punches something.
What wipes the subtle smile off Kusakabe’s face is when you talk like him, too. Excessive cursing, yelling with a rough edge, chewing off the ends of sentences, it’s like talking to a mini-Yaga. Spending time with you breaks and rebuilds him in cycles. One time, when you watch a sports channel with him and argue with the commentator in such a familiar way, it gets too much, and he has to dash to the bathroom.
That shit came out of nowhere. He doesn’t cry but it was a close call.
• Caregiver!Kusakabe, who sometimes catches you looking at pictures and videos of Yaga on your phone and slowly, awkwardly closes the door to let you be.
• Caregiver!Kusakabe, who used to prefer being at his sister’s because his apartment was too lonely. But now, with you there, it’s lively.
He takes pictures of your shoes next to his, the books you leave on the kitchen counter, the almost-empty spice jars he barely used before, the finally worn-down pencils. All evidence of your presence. Proof that he’s able to provide safety for you. The picture are sent to Yaga’s phone later, even if no one will look at them anymore.
• Caregiver!Kusakabe, who starts taking the jujutsu bullshit more seriously. Meaning, he doesn’t just stop at taking measurements for himself and his sister, he begins taking more initiative at Jujutsu High and training the students as well.
He’d always had a feeling you wouldn’t be very elegant in your fighting style, likely due to a certain influence. But when he actually sees you spar, throwing punches with no regard for your bones or flesh, he’s more than a little surprised.
Fuck him up, brat.
(╥﹏╥)
(╥﹏╥)all rights reserved. no translations, plagiarism, modifications, reposts, or ai feeding. disturbing comments will be deleted. english is not my native language.
warnings ♡ 18+ mdni • explicit sexual content • established relationship • dirty talk • power dynamics • oral (f receiving) • multiple orgasms • praise • overstimulation • light spanking • lingerie • texting while at work • nicotine mention • kusakabe being a menace • all characters are 18+
summary ♡ You spend the afternoon seeing how far you can push Atsuya Kusakabe. He spends the afternoon proving he should’ve ignored his phone.
author’s note ♡ I fear I’ve become one of those people who thinks Kusakabe is ridiculously attractive. Lazy? Absolutely. Complaining the whole time? Without question. Still somehow the strongest sorcerer available? Every single time. I had way too much fun writing this one. ♡ Hope you all enjoy my favorite old man. ♡
now playing ♡ ♪ ♪ “Talk” — Hozier
The classroom hummed with the kind of oppressive quiet that settled in the late afternoon at Jujutsu High. Atsuya Kusakabe leaned back in his chair, the worn wood creaking ominously under his weight, feet propped up on a nearby desk in a way that screamed "I don't care." He idly twirled a cherry lollipop between his lips, the artificial sweetness a poor substitute for the familiar, grounding burn of a cigarette he was trying to quit. Again. He was supposed to be explaining cursed technique matchups after a recent mission, going over reports with Yuta and Maki, but really, he was just counting the minutes until he could go home. To you.
"—so the key is recognizing when your opponent is forcing you into their rhythm," he drawled, the lollipop clicking softly against his teeth. "You can't just react. You have to anticipate. Like this..." He gestured vaguely at the whiteboard, where he'd drawn some half-assed diagrams that probably made less sense than his explanation.
A familiar vibration in his pocket shattered the lazy peace. He ignored it. Probably spam. Or Ijichi with another headache. He continued pointing at the board. "See how the curse's movements become predictable after the third exchange? That's when you—"
Buzz.
Another vibration.
"—counter." He finished his sentence, his jaw clenching slightly. Maki raised an eyebrow, pencil pausing over her notebook. Yuta glanced up from his notes, sensing the shift in the room's energy.
"Something wrong, Sensei?" Yuta asked, that earnest puppy-dog look on his face that always made Atsuya feel vaguely guilty for being such a slacker.
"No. Just thinking." He forced himself to continue. "Where was I? Right. Counter. The key is not getting caught up in their flow. You maintain your own—"
Buzz. Buzz. Two in quick succession this time.
Dammit. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Alright. Five-minute break. Stretch. Whatever."
Once the students were distracted, he discreetly angled his phone beneath the desk, shielded by his body. The screen lit up, and the first message made his throat go dry.
You:
Still teaching?
He felt a twitch in his eyebrow, the corner of his mouth threatening to twitch into a smile before he caught himself. Of course she was. Always pushing, always testing. He quickly typed back:
What does it look like? Don't you have anything better to do?
The reply came almost immediately:
Not really.
He could practically hear the petulant tone through the screen. Then:
Thinking of you.
Damn her. He pocketed the phone, forcing his expression back into its usual state of mild boredom. "Alright. Break's over. Back to work."
He managed to get through another five minutes of explaining cursed energy flow before his phone buzzed again. He ignored it, his voice growing tighter as he continued the lesson. "The residual effect of a domain expansion can linger for hours after the initial collapse, which is why thorough analysis is—"
Buzz.
"—important." His eyes flickered to his pocket. He could feel Maki's gaze on him now, sharp and analytical. She noticed everything. It was annoying.
"Sensei?" Yuta piped up again. "You stopped talking."
"I know I stopped," Atsuya grunted, rubbing his temples. "I'm trying to remember the technical term. It's... complex."
"More complex than you usually bother with," Maki muttered under her breath, just loud enough for him to hear.
He shot her a look. "What was that, Zenin?"
"Nothing. Just taking notes." She gave him an innocent look that fooled exactly no one.
His phone buzzed again. This time, he couldn't resist. He glanced down, and his breath caught in his throat.
It was a mirror selfie. You, wearing something black and lacy that barely covered anything at all. The lighting caught the curve of your hip, the dip of your waist, the swell of your breasts. But it was your eyes that did him in—a direct, challenging stare that seemed to cut through the screen and pin him in place.
Then another picture came through. A close-up this time. Your fingers teasing the strap of the lingerie, a smirk playing on your lips. The accompanying text made his blood run hot.
I bought something.
He zoomed in, his thumb moving almost involuntarily. Oh, he saw what you bought. And it was going to be the death of him. He immediately locked his phone and popped the lollipop back into his mouth before anyone noticed what he was looking at. The candy clicked against his teeth while he stared at the whiteboard, trying very, very hard to remember what the hell he was supposed to be teaching these kids.
Maki watched him for a solid ten seconds. "Are you okay, Sensei?"
"Fine," he grunted, the word distorted by the lollipop. "Just... processing a complex theoretical scenario." He tapped the whiteboard with a marker, his mind completely blank on what he was supposed to be writing.
Buzz.
He didn't even look. His knuckles were white where he gripped the marker.
"Sensei, your hand is shaking," Yuta observed quietly, and damn the kid for being so observant.
"Side effect of intense concentration," Atsuya shot back, his voice strained. He cleared his throat. "Right. So, when dealing with domain-based curses, the most important factor is..."
His phone buzzed again. And again. A rapid succession that made his jaw clench around the lollipop.
He finally gave in, angling the phone down under the pretense of checking the time.
You:
You're ignoring me.
Atsuya slammed out a response:
I'M TEACHING A CLASS.
You:
Is the class more important than me?
He could feel a vein throbbing in his temple.
You:
Guess not.
Then the next picture came through. It was darker, more intimate. Your hand disappeared between your thighs, the black lace of your new lingerie barely visible. The focus was on the glistening wetness on your fingers, the way they moved against your skin. His breath hitched, a low growl rumbling in his chest.
The text that followed made his vision blur slightly.
You:
Missing something.
He had to physically restrain himself from groaning out loud. He typed back with shaking fingers:
You're trying to get me fired.
You:
Maybe. Would make more time for this though.
Then, another picture. Your face this time, head thrown back, mouth slightly open, cheeks flushed. Eyes half-lidded and looking directly into the camera as if you knew he was watching.
You:
Poor old man. Can't handle it?
He felt a surge of something—frustration, desire, a primal urge to shut that smart mouth of yours in the most effective way possible. His reply was almost instinctive:
I'm going to fuck the brat out of you when I get home.
He watched as the three dots appeared and disappeared, indicating your typing. Then the final message came through, making his entire body tense with a mixture of annoyance and an intense, burning need.
You:
Okay old man. By the time you get home you'll be ready for bed.
He could feel his control slipping, the professional mask he maintained cracking under the weight of pure, unadulterated lust. His eyes scanned the room. Maki was pretending to read, but he could feel her curiosity. Yuta was scribbling something in his notebook, completely oblivious.
That was it. He couldn't take it anymore.
He stood up abruptly, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. Both students looked up in surprise.
"Class is dismissed early today," he announced, his voice rougher than usual. "I... have a sudden emergency mission briefing."
Yuta looked concerned. "Is everything okay, Sensei?"
"Everything's fine," Atsuya said, grabbing his jacket and phone from the desk. "Just... remember what I said about anticipating your opponent's moves. Study the diagrams. There'll be a test."
He didn't wait for a response, already halfway to the door. Once outside, he leaned against the wall, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts. He opened his phone to the last photo you sent—the one of your face, flushed with pleasure—and zoomed in on your eyes, on the parted lips.
You were insane. Absolutely, certifiably insane. And he was going to go home and show you exactly what that kind of insanity earned you.
He shoved the phone into his pocket, grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair, and headed for the faculty parking lot without another word.
The only coherent thought left in his head was that you were absolutely impossible. And somehow, against all better judgment… He couldn’t wait to get home.
***
The apartment was almost unnervingly quiet. You stood in front of the bedroom mirror with your arms crossed, staring at yourself.
“…Too much?”
You turned sideways. Then back. Then sighed.
“No. Definitely enough.”
The black lingerie had looked intimidating on the mannequin. On you? It looked dangerous. Exactly what you’d been hoping for. A slow grin spread across your face.
“He’s going to lose his mind.”
You grabbed your phone from the dresser and opened the camera.
Click.
Too serious.
Delete.
Click.
Eyes closed.
Delete.
Click.
Too blurry.
Delete.
You tried leaning against the headboard.
No.
Sitting cross-legged.
No.
Lying on your side.
Better.
You snapped another. And another. Then another. By the time you finished, your camera roll had nearly thirty new photos. You flopped backward onto the bed with a dramatic sigh.
“…There’s no way I’m sending all of these.”
One by one, you deleted them.
Too awkward.
Delete.
Too obvious.
Delete.
Too much smiling.
Delete.
Your thumb paused over one. You were stretched lazily across the bed, looking directly into the camera with that tiny, challenging smirk that always got under Atsuya’s skin. Not overly posed. Not trying too hard. Just enough.
“Oh…”
You smiled to yourself.
“There you are.”
Send.
You watched the little “Delivered” appear. Nothing.
“…He’s teaching.”
You waited. Still nothing. A grin tugged at your lips.
You typed another message.
Still teaching?
Send.
You tossed the phone beside you and rolled onto your stomach, kicking your feet lazily behind you.
Five seconds.
Ten.
Fifteen.
Buzz.
You snatched the phone up so quickly you nearly dropped it.
You are insane. I’m at work. You’re trying to kill me.
Your grin only widened.
“Yep.”
You giggled quietly to yourself before opening the camera again.
“If we’re doing this…”
Another picture. This time a little closer. Still tasteful. Still leaving plenty to the imagination. But definitely enough to make him look twice. You stared at it for a moment before hitting send.
Then, just to make things worse—
Fine. I guess I’ll just take care of myself then.
You bit your lip to keep from laughing.
“…He’s going to hate that.”
Your phone vibrated almost instantly.
You didn’t even have to open it to know he’d taken the bait. The reply made you laugh out loud.
“Oh my God…”
You covered your mouth, shaking your head.
“So dramatic.”
You could practically hear him saying every word through gritted teeth.
You set your phone down and wandered into the kitchen. Maybe he’d be another hour. Maybe longer. There was plenty of time.
You poured yourself a glass of wine, wandered back into the bedroom, and glanced out the living room window toward the parking lot below. No familiar car. You checked the time. He should still be stuck at school.
Satisfied, you returned to the bedroom and changed into one of his oversized T-shirts, leaving the new lingerie underneath.
Your phone buzzed again. You smiled before even looking.
Another short reply. Definitely annoyed. Definitely flustered. Mission accomplished.
You laughed softly, typing back without thinking.
Getting distracted?
The three little typing dots appeared. Stopped. Appeared again. Stopped again. You could practically picture him deleting whatever he really wanted to say.
“You’re adorable.”
Another message arrived. Short. Grumpy. Very Atsuya.
You sent nothing but a laughing emoji in return. That would irritate him more than any paragraph could.
The apartment settled into silence again. You wandered into the living room, curled up on the couch for a few minutes, then found yourself pacing instead.
You checked the window again. Still nothing.
“Hm.”
Maybe you had pushed him a little too far. Not in a bad way just enough that he’d actually ignore you for the rest of the afternoon.
“…Maybe I should apologize.”
***
The moment Atsuya slid behind the wheel, he knew the drive home was going to be torture.
Rush hour. Of course.
The line of brake lights stretching down the road glowed an accusing red as he pulled out of the school parking lot. Cars crawled forward at a pace that made him seriously consider whether walking would’ve been faster.
The cherry lollipop clicked impatiently against his teeth.
Click.
Click.
Click.
His phone buzzed in the cup holder. He didn’t look. Another buzz.
“…You’re unbelievable,” he muttered.
He made it almost thirty seconds before grabbing the phone at the next red light.
You:
Still teaching?
He snorted.
His thumbs hovered over the keyboard.
Yes.
Delete.
I’m driving.
Delete.
You’re lucky I couldn’t leave sooner.
Delete.
He sighed dramatically before finally typing:
You’re lucky I can’t leave yet.
The light turned green. He tossed the phone back into the cup holder and pulled away.
Click.
The lollipop tapped against his teeth faster. Traffic slowed to another stop less than a block later.
Buzz.
He glanced down.
A single laughing emoji.
Then another message appeared almost immediately.
You:
You sound grumpy.
“I am grumpy.”
The driver in front of him didn’t move when the light changed.
“…Come on…”
Nothing. He gave the steering wheel one impatient tap. Still nothing.
“…Seriously?”
The car finally lurched forward. Atsuya exhaled through his nose and accelerated. Three intersections later the familiar cherry flavor had disappeared entirely. He sighed, fished another lollipop from the center console, and unwrapped it one-handed while stopped at another red light. The wrapper crinkled loudly in the quiet car.
Pop.
Fresh cherry. Better. For about ten seconds.
Buzz.
He looked. Another picture.
Just you, kneeling on the bed with your back arched slightly, the black lace of your lingerie clinging to your curves beneath the worn cotton of his oversized T-shirt. The shirt hung loose on your frame, one shoulder slipped down to reveal the thin strap of your bra, the fabric pooling around your waist to expose the high-cut panties. Your hair was damp from a shower, strands curling against your flushed skin and collarbones. One hand rested casually on your hip, drawing attention to the delicate strapping there, while the other toyed with the hem of his shirt, your fingers barely brushing against the lace beneath. You were looking directly at the camera, lips parted in a teasing smile, your eyes dark with mischief and desire.
The caption underneath read:
Thinking about changing. His jaw tightened.
“…Don’t.”
No response.
The light turned green again. He dropped the phone and forced himself to pay attention to the road. Five minutes. Two more stoplights. Another traffic jam. Another buzz.
This time he didn’t even pretend to ignore it.
You:
Getting distracted?
He laughed once, a short, disbelieving sound. His thumbs moved over the keyboard.
Absolutely not.
Delete.
Keep pushing.
Delete.
You’re making this drive feel three hours long.
Delete.
He finally settled on:
Keep texting me and you’re making your own funeral arrangements.
He stared at it.
Deleted it.
Too dramatic.
Another sigh.
He typed again.
You’re lucky I have self-control.
Send.
Three dots appeared almost instantly. Then, a laughing emoji. Nothing else.
“…Brat.”
He leaned his head back against the seat as another red light caught him. The lollipop clicked steadily against his teeth.
Click.
Click.
Click.
Halfway through the wait he realized he’d already finished it.
“…Seriously?”
He pulled another from the glove compartment. Cherry again. He always bought the same flavor. The second wrapper joined the first in the passenger seat.
By the time he finally turned into your apartment complex nearly forty minutes later, the third white paper stick landed beside the other two. Three lollipops. One traffic jam. Eight red lights. Far too many text messages.
He parked, shut off the engine, and sat there for a long moment, staring at your latest message.
You:
What’s taking you so long, old man?
A slow grin spread across his face.
“…You’re lucky you’re cute.”
He slipped the phone into his pocket, grabbed his keys, and climbed out of the car. The walk to the apartment suddenly felt much too long.
***
The apartment was quiet when he unlocked the door, the scent of your vanilla and sandalwood perfume hanging in the air like a challenge. He dropped his keys in the bowl with a loud clatter, a deliberate signal. I'm home.
He found you in the bedroom, just as he'd pictured. You were on your stomach on the bed, scrolling through your phone, that same scrap of black lace barely covering your ass. You didn't even look up.
"Took you long enough," you murmured, the picture of casual defiance. "Was about to fall asleep."
Atsuya didn't say a word. He shrugged off his jacket, letting it fall to the floor. He crossed the room in three long strides, the bed dipping with his weight as he knelt behind you. His hands, warm and calloused, gripped your ankles.
"Old man, huh?" he murmured, his voice a low, dangerous rumble against your skin as he slid his hands up your calves, over the sensitive skin behind your knees, to finally rest on the back of your thighs. "We'll see about that."
You shivered, a gasp catching in your throat as his fingers hooked into the flimsy lace of your panties. He didn't pull them off. He just held the fabric taut, letting you feel the tension.
"You thought you could send me pictures like that while I'm trying to teach a class?" He leaned down, his breath hot against the shell of your ear. "You thought I wouldn't drop everything and come right back here to remind you who's in charge?"
"Maybe," you managed, your voice betraying the slight tremor of anticipation. "Was hoping you would."
He laughed, a dark, gravelly sound that vibrated through your entire body. "Oh, I know you were." With one sharp tug, he ripped the delicate lace. The sound of tearing fabric was followed by your sharp intake of breath.
"Atsuya! You tore my underwear.”
He leaned down, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he murmured, “You’ll survive.” His hand slid up your inner thigh, thumb ghosting over the damp fabric that was now clinging to you.
“It was expensive.”
“I’ll buy you another pair.” His tongue darted out, tracing the delicate curve just below your earlobe, making you shiver.
“I liked those.”
“I’ll buy ten.” He nibbled gently at your shoulder, his teeth scraping just enough to make you gasp.
“You don’t even know where I bought them.”
“I’ll figure it out.” His hand moved higher, his fingers finally finding the heat between your legs, pressing lightly through what remained of your panties.
“I hate you.”
“No you don’t.” He chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that vibrated against your skin, as he pressed a lingering kiss to the nape of your neck.
“…No.” The word was barely a whisper, lost as his lips found yours in a bruising kiss.
Then he reaches into his pocket, pulls out a lollipop, pops it into his mouth, and looks at you for a long beat.
“…You gonna keep talking, or are you done?”
He tossed the ruined scrap aside, his large hands spreading you open, exposing you completely to his gaze. "Look at that," he growled, appreciatively. "Already so wet for me. And you were going to 'take care of yourself'? As if you ever could."
Before you could formulate a bratty retort, he leaned in and dragged the flat of his tongue over your slick folds, a slow, deliberate swipe that stole the air from your lungs.
"Oh, fuck!" you cried out, your back arching instinctively.
"Language," he chided, though there was a smug satisfaction in his tone. He did it again, slower this time, tracing every inch of you before settling on your clit. He didn't rush. He applied a firm, steady pressure, circling the sensitive bundle of nerves with the tip of his tongue, listening to the way your breath hitched, to the small, desperate sounds you were trying to bite back.
"Stop... holding back," he ordered, pulling away just enough to speak. "I want to hear you."
"A-Atsuya, please," you whimpered, pushing your hips back against him, seeking more friction.
"Please what?" he taunted, hovering just over your clit, letting you feel the warmth of his breath. "You were so fucking brave with your little text messages. Use your words."
"Please... make me come," you begged, the words tearing from your throat.
"Since you asked so nicely." He finally gave you what you wanted, sealing his mouth over your clit and sucking, hard.
The pleasure was immediate and overwhelming, a white-hot jolt that shot straight up your spine. He held you down, one firm hand on the small of your back as you writhed against the sheets, your fingers fisting in the bedding. His tongue was relentless, alternating between firm, focused pressure and quick, flicking motions that kept you guessing, kept you climbing higher and higher.
"You taste so fucking good," he groaned against you, the vibrations sending another wave of pleasure through you. "All this for me?"
"Yes! All for you, oh god, don't stop, please don't stop!" You were babbling now, completely lost to the sensation. The coil in your belly was winding tighter and tighter, your thighs beginning to shake.
He could feel it. He could feel every twitch, every ragged breath. Just as you were teetering on the edge, right as you were about to tumble over into bliss, he pulled away.
A frustrated, desperate cry tore from your lips. "No! Atsuya, you asshole!"
He huffed a laugh, then he flipped you over onto your back with an effortless strength that made your head spin. He loomed over you, his eyes dark and predatory, a smirk playing on his lips.
"What did you call me?" he asked, his voice dangerously soft.
"You heard me," you shot back, panting, your body still thrumming with denied release. "You're an asshole."
“Keep talking," he said, and then he was on you. He captured your wrists in one of his large hands, pinning them above your head. His other hand snaked down between your bodies, his fingers finding your slick entrance. He circled it once, twice, teasingly, before sliding two long fingers inside you with a slow, deliberate thrust.
Your back bowed off the bed, a choked gasp escaping you. He curled his fingers just so, finding that spot inside you that made you see stars, and began to pump them in and out, building a rhythm that was maddeningly, perfectly slow.
"This," he said, his lips brushing against your ear, his voice a low growl, "is mine. You don't get to come until I say so. And you," he added, scissoring his fingers slightly, stretching you, "don't get to touch yourself. Ever. Not when I'm not here. Not when I am here. Only me."
"Atsuya," you whined, pulling against his grip on your wrists. "Please... I'm so close."
"Too bad," he said. He picked up the pace, fucking you with his fingers faster, harder, the heel of his palm grinding against your clit with every thrust. The room was filled with the obscene, wet sounds of his fingers driving into you, mixed with your ragged moans and his own heavy breathing.
"Look at you," he murmured, his dark eyes fixed on your face, watching every flicker of pleasure. "Such a mess. All because of me. You love this, don't you? Love it when I take control."
"Yes!" you cried out, your head thrashing against the pillows. "Yes, I love it!"
"Say it."
"I love it when you take control! Please, Atsuya, let me come! I need to come!"
He finally, mercifully, lowered his head, taking one of your nipples into his mouth and biting down gently, just enough to send a sharp pang of pleasure-pain through you. That was all it took. The combined sensations pushed you over the edge, and you shattered.
"Atsuya!" you screamed his name as your orgasm crashed over you, a tidal wave of pure sensation. Your walls clenched around his fingers, your body arching and trembling as wave after wave of pleasure washed through you. He worked you through it, his fingers never stopping, drawing out your climax until you were a whimpering, boneless mess beneath him.
He finally withdrew his fingers, bringing them to his lips and licking them clean. "Sweet," he murmured, his gaze never leaving yours. "But I want more."
He sat back on his heels, a lazy, predatory smirk on his face. He reached into his discarded jacket pocket, the crinkle of a wrapper loud in the stillness of the room. Another lollipop. Cherry. He unwrapped it slowly, deliberately, the sound making your thighs clench in anticipation.
"Open up," he commanded.
You obeyed without question, parting your lips. He slid the hard candy into your mouth, the sweet, artificial cherry flavor flooding your senses. He watched you for a moment, his eyes dark as you tentatively sucked on it.
"Now, hold that there for me," he said, his voice a low rumble. "Don't drop it."
He then lowered himself back between your legs, positioning himself so he was propped on one elbow. He looked up at you, a challenging glint in his eyes, before leaning down and pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to your inner thigh. His stubble scraped against your sensitive skin, sending a shiver through you. He did the same to the other thigh, his movements unhurried, torturous.
"You're being so quiet," he murmured against your skin. "Where'd all that attitude from earlier go?"
You tried to answer around the lollipop, but it came out as a muffled garble. He chuckled, the vibrations traveling straight to your core.
"Can't talk? That's a shame." He finally, mercifully, leaned in and dragged the flat of his tongue over your clit. The sensation was electric, making you gasp around the candy in your mouth. He did it again, slower this time, savoring your taste.
Then, he brought the lollipop he’d been sucking on down between your legs. You flinched, expecting it to be cold, but it was warm from his mouth, slick with his saliva. He traced the smooth, hard surface of the candy over your slick folds, a completely alien, intensely arousing sensation.
"Oh my god," you whimpered, the lollipop in your own mouth nearly falling out.
"Careful," he warned, his eyes fixed on what he was doing. He circled your clit with the tip of the candy, the sweet, sticky sensation mingling with your own wetness. It was bizarre and incredible all at once. "Keep that in your mouth. You drop it, and I stop."
He watched you, mesmerized, as he continued to torment you with the lollipop. He pressed it against your clit, rubbing it in slow, maddening circles. Your hips bucked off the bed, a desperate moan escaping your lips.
"So sensitive," he murmured, a smirk playing on his lips. "You like that? Like having something sweet against you while I watch?"
You nodded frantically, your eyes squeezed shut. He grinned.
Then, he set the lollipop aside on the nightstand, and leaned in, replacing the candy with his tongue. The difference was staggering—the warm, wet, pliant muscle of his tongue against your most sensitive skin. He lapped at you, cleaning the sticky sweetness from your folds, before focusing all his attention on your clit.
He sucked it into his mouth, hard, and your back bowed off the bed, a strangled cry escaping your lips. He held you down, one firm hand on your stomach, as he devoured you, his tongue relentless, his movements precise and devastating.
He slid two fingers back inside you, curling them expertly to hit that perfect spot deep within you. The dual stimulation was almost too much. His mouth on your clit, his fingers inside you, the phantom memory of the lollipop's sweet slickness.
"Atsuya... Atsuya, please," you begged, the words muffled by the candy. "I'm so close... I'm gonna..."
"Not yet," he commanded, pulling away just enough to speak, his fingers still moving inside you, slowing to a teasing pace. "Not until I say so."
You whined in frustration, pulling against his grip. "Please... I can't..."
"You can," he said, his voice firm. "And you will." He leaned back in, his tongue finding your clit again, and this time, he didn't hold back. He sucked and licked and nibbled, driving you wild with a desperate, frantic need.
The pressure was building again, a storm gathering in your core, your muscles tensing, your breath hitching in ragged gasps. He could feel it. He could feel you trembling on the verge of collapse.
"Come for me," he growled against you, the vibration finally pushing you over the edge. "Now."
And you did. You came with a scream, your body convulsing, your walls clenching around his fingers, wave after wave of intense, blinding pleasure washing over you. It was so much, too much, perfect. He worked you through it, his tongue and fingers never stopping, drawing out your climax until you were a sobbing, trembling mess.
He flipped you onto your stomach and grabbed a pillow and shoved it under your hips, raising your ass into the air. He knelt behind you, and you heard the distinct sound of him unbuckling his belt, the metallic clang loud in the now-silent room. The rustle of his pants followed, and then you felt the hot, heavy weight of him settle over your back.
"You still think I'm an old man?" he growled, his lips grazing the nape of your neck. He ground his hard, clothed erection against your bare ass, a teasing promise of what was to come.
"No," you whimpered, pushing back against him. "No, I'm sorry."
"You will be," he promised darkly. He shifted, and then you felt the blunt head of his cock, hot and bare, pressing against your entrance. He teased you, sliding it through your slick folds, coating himself in your wetness, nudging your clit with each pass.
"Please," you begged, desperation lacing your tone. "Please, Atsuya, fuck me."
"Patience," he chided, though you could hear the strain in his own voice. He was losing control, too. "I'm savoring this."
"Savor it faster," you shot back, a flash of your former brattiness returning.
He ginned. “Still got some fight in you, huh? Good." With one swift, powerful thrust, he buried himself inside you to the hilt.
The sudden, fullness made you cry out, a strangled moan of pure ecstasy. He gave you a moment to adjust, his body a heavy, grounding weight on top of yours, his breath hot and ragged in your ear. He started to move, slow and deep at first, setting a punishing rhythm that had you seeing stars.
"You feel so fucking good," he groaned, his hands gripping your hips, holding you in place as he drove into you again and again. "So tight, so wet... all for me."
"All for you," you echoed, your fingers clutching at the sheets. Every thrust pushed you closer to the edge, the head of his cock hitting that spot inside you that made your toes curl.
He wrapped a hand in your hair, fisting it gently but firmly. He used the leverage to pull your head back, forcing your arch to deepen. "Tell me who you belong to," he demanded, his voice a low growl.
“…You’re… so… annoying.” You said in between moans.
He laughed quietly. “Answer the question.”
You huffed. “…You” You rolled your eyes.“Happy?”
"Very," he grunted, his thrusts becoming harder, faster. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, a raw, primal rhythm that matched the pounding of your heart. "And don't you forget it."
He released your hair, only to snake a hand around your front, his fingers finding your clit. He began to rub it in tight, firm circles, matching the pace of his thrusts.
"Oh, god! Atsuya! I'm... I'm gonna come again!" you screamed, your whole body trembling.
"Then come for me," he commanded. "Come all over my cock."
His words were your undoing. Your second orgasm ripped through you, even more intense than the first. Your walls clenched around him, a series of high-pitched cries tearing from your throat as your body convulsed with pleasure. He didn't stop, fucking you through it, prolonging your climax until you were sure you would pass out.
When you finally came down, you were limp, boneless, your body humming with a residual pleasure that made you feel like you were floating. But Atsuya wasn't done with you yet.
He pulled out, and you whimpered at the sudden loss. He flipped you over onto your back, moving to kneel over your chest. His cock, glistening with your arousal, was hard and flushed, standing proud. He gripped the base, pointing it toward your lips.
"Open up," he ordered, his voice husky with desire. "Taste yourself on me."
You obeyed, parting your lips. He slid into your mouth, slow and deliberate, letting you get used to his size. You wrapped your lips around him, your tongue swirling around the head, tasting the mix of your own essence and his salty skin.
"Fuck, yes," he groaned, his head falling back. "Just like that. Take all of me."
You relaxed your throat, letting him push deeper, until he was fully sheathed in your mouth. You looked up at him, watching the play of emotions on his face, the raw pleasure, the control, the possessiveness. It was the most incredible thing you'd ever seen.
He began to move, slowly at first, fucking your mouth with a deep, steady rhythm. You could feel his control starting to slip, his thrusts becoming a little more erratic, a little more desperate.
"You're so good at this," he praised, his voice strained. "So fucking good."
You moaned around him, the vibrations making him curse. His hands came down to rest on the headboard, caging you in. He was getting close, you could feel it in the tensing of his muscles, in the way his breath hitched.
But then, just as he was on the verge, he pulled out, leaving you both panting and wanting.
"Not yet," he said, his chest heaving. "I'm not done with you."
He flipped you over onto your stomach again, pulling your hips up so you were on your hands and knees. He knelt behind you, and without any warning, he thrust back into you.
"Oh!" you cried out, your arms giving out. You fell face-first into the pillows, your ass still high in the air.
He gripped your hips, holding you in place as he started to move, a slow, deep rhythm that had you seeing stars. This angle was incredible, allowing him to hit that spot inside you that made you see stars with every thrust.
"Jesus Christ," he grunted, his grip tightening on your hips, "I must've sold my soul to deserve something as tight and sweet as you."
"And I must've made a deal with the devil," you retorted, your voice muffled by the pillows, "to find an old man who knows exactly how to ruin me like this."
He chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that vibrated against your skin. He brought a hand down on your ass in a sharp, stinging slap. The unexpected pain mingled with the pleasure, sending a dizzying jolt through you that made your head spin.
"What was that?" he growled, his fingers digging into your hips.
"You heard me," you retorted, a smirk playing on your lips. "Old. Man."
He spanked you again, harder this time. The skin of your ass tingled, a delicious, stinging heat that spread through your entire body.
"I'll show you old," he promised, his voice a low growl. He picked up the pace, fucking you with a newfound intensity, a punishing rhythm that stole the breath from your lungs. The bed was creaking loudly now, the headboard banging against the wall, but you didn't care. All you could focus on was the overwhelming pleasure, the feeling of him filling you, owning you, completely.
"You're a fucking brat, you know that?" he grunted, wrapping a hand in your hair and pulling your head back. The stretch in your neck was exquisite, a delicious ache that only added to the pleasure.
“Mmmm you love it.” You moaned out between thrusts and your own whimpers.
He didn't deny it. He just fucked you harder, his thrusts becoming erratic, his control finally shattering once more. He was close, you could feel it in the tensing of his muscles, in the way his breath hitched.
"Mmmphh fuck yeah I do.. my fucking brat.” He moaned into your ear.
He let go of your hair, only to grip your hips with both hands, pulling you back to meet his powerful thrusts. The room was filled with the raw, primal sounds of your lovemaking, a symphony of skin slapping against skin, of desperate cries and deep, guttural groans.
"Atsuya..." you gasped, your fingers fisting in the sheets. "I'm... I'm..."
"Me too," he grunted. "Fuck, me too baby.”
He reached around, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing it in tight, firm circles. That was all it took. With a final, powerful thrust, you shattered. Your sixth orgasm was blinding. Your whole body convulsed as wave after wave of intense pleasure crashed over you. Your walls clenched around him like a vise, pulling him over the edge with you.
With a loud, raw groan of your name, he came. You felt the hot, thick pulse of his release as he spilled into you, filling you up, marking you as his from the inside out. He collapsed on top of you, his full weight pressing you into the mattress, his chest heaving against your back.
He rolled off of you, pulling you into his arms and tucking you against his chest. You lay there in comfortable silence, your head resting on his chest, listening to the steady, reassuring beat of his heart. His hand stroked your hair, a slow, rhythmic motion that was lulling you to sleep.
"You know," he said after a while, his voice gruff in the quiet room, "I was actually planning on getting some sleep tonight."
You looked up at him, a mischievous glint in your eye. "Oh, were you now?"
"Yeah," he said, a slow grin spreading across his face. "But this was way better."
His mouth claimed yours again, deeper this time, more possessive. The taste of your pleasure lingered on his tongue—a sweet, musky reminder of what he'd done to you.
For a while you just lay there, entangled in a mess of sweat and satisfaction. The frantic drumming of your own pulse gradually slowed to match the steady thump of his heart against your back. When he finally stirred, it was to press a gentle kiss to the nape of your neck, a soft contrast to the roughness that had come before.
"You okay?" he murmured, his voice hoarse.
You managed a weak, breathless laugh. "I'm... I don't know. I think I might be dead."
He laughed, a deep, rumbling sound that vibrated through your entire body. "Nope. Very much alive." He carefully rolled off of you, pulling you into his arms and tucking you against his chest. "And you're all mine."
You cuddled closer, burying your face in his chest. He smelled of sweat and sex and something uniquely him, a scent that was more comforting than anything else in the world. His hand stroked your hair, a slow, rhythmic motion that was lulling you to sleep.
"Still think I'm an old man?" he asked, his voice husky.
You managed a weak, breathless laugh. "Yes.. my old man.”
He chuckled, leaning down to press a soft, surprisingly gentle kiss to your lips. "Damn right," he murmured. "You know I’ll have to do extra time tomorrow after ending class early today?”
“Liar. You would have ended early even if I didn’t send that picture… that just got you home faster.” You bit back.
He just snorted. He was right, and you knew it. But you'd never admit it. "You're a menace," he said, but there was no heat in it. He was just stating a fact.
"And you love it," you shot back, a sleepy, satisfied smile on your face.
He leaned down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead. "Yeah," he murmured against your skin. "I really, really do."
You were drifting, floating in a hazy, post-coital bliss, when you felt him shift. He reached over to the nightstand, fumbling in the pocket of his discarded jacket. He pulled out a fresh lollipop, the crinkle of the wrapper loud in the quiet room. He unwrapped it with practiced ease, the scent of artificial cherry filling the air.
"Man," he sighed, popping the candy into his mouth. He clicked it against his teeth, a familiar, comforting sound. "Sex is great and all, but it makes the nicotine cravings twice as bad."
You cracked an eye open, looking up at him. He was leaning against the headboard, the lollipop stick poking from between his lips, a picture of lazy, post-sex contentment.
“I fucking love you so much Atsuya.” You said.
His eyes softened, a rare, genuine smile playing on his lips. He reached down, pulling you up and into his lap. You settled against him, your head on his shoulder, your legs tangled with his.
"Love you too, brat," he murmured, his arm wrapping around your waist, holding you close.
You lay there in comfortable silence, the only sounds the gentle click of the lollipop against his teeth and the soft hum of the city outside. You were sore, exhausted, and completely, utterly satisfied. You had pushed him, tested his limits, and he had met you at every turn, pushing you right back, taking you to heights you'd never reached before.
"You know," he said after a while, his voice a low rumble, "next time you pull a stunt like that, I'm not going to be so nice."
You looked up at him, a mischievous glint in your eye. "Promise?"
He just laughed, a deep, genuine sound that vibrated through your entire body. "Get some sleep," he said, pressing a soft kiss to your hair. "You're going to need it."
characters: Kento Nanami, Hiromi Higuruma, Atsuya Kusakabe, Shiu Kong
warnings: none
a/n: this is short but I’m studying for my tests and this idea came up in my head, there will be a part 2 soon with more characters :)
Hiromi Higuruma
At home proposal
Hiromi is a simple and private man, therefore he proposes to you in the privacy of your home. He doesn’t like making things a big deal but for your proposal he would definitely try his hardest to make it special.
It was a Saturday and you had gone out to run some errands. While you were out, Hiromi was decorating your home with rose petals and candles. He showered, fixed his hair and put on a nice outfit to match the occasion. When you arrive home it’s dark and quiet, you see candles and rose petals on the floor and follow them. Hiromi is standing in your living room with a smile on his face. He takes your hand and leads you to the middle of the room before going down on one knee
“I’m not good with words but I want to wake up every morning next to you, will you marry me?“ Hiromi says and pulls out the ring.
Kento Nanami
Picnic proposal
Like the gentleman Kento is I feel like he would definitely propose to you at a picnic, it’s outdoors but still a little private.
It was a warm day and Kento had planned a surprise for you, you were super excited and waited the entire day to see what it was. He drove you to the location and you were stunned at the scenery, it was a flower field. He took your hand and walked you through the field. You eventually saw the picnic he had set up and as you arrived you saw that in the little basket he had brought, all your favorite foods were inside. You praised him for remembering all your favorite snacks and foods. As you where eating he eventually asked you to stand up, you obeyed and he got on one knee infront of you and took out a little box
“Would you like to be my forever person and grow old with me?”
Atsuya Kusakabe
Hiking and proposing on top of a mountain
One thing about Kusakabe is that he loves doing outdoor activities like fishing or hiking, so it’s no surprise that he would propose to you while hiking.
You two had the weekend off and like usual, your boyfriend Kusakabe wanted to go outside. He had asked you to come along since the hike wasn’t hard and the view would be amazing. You agreed since spending time with him was hard with his work schedule. The two of you drive to the start of the trail and begin walking. You walk for about an hour before reaching the top of the mountain. You two enjoy the view as you catch your breaths after walking all the way up. You sit down at a bench and relax, but all of the sudden your boyfriend gets down on one knee infront of you
“Would you like to be my hiking partner for the rest of our lives?” he says as he pulls out a box with a ring inside.
Shiu Kong
Beach proposal
Shiu wanted the proposal to be special, so he decided to do it on a private beach where it’s was pretty and private during the big moment.
He just said that he was taking you to the beach and to bring everything you would need. You didn’t think much of it since it was summer so you just packed everything and got in the car. When you two arrive the sun is starting to come down and the beach is beautiful. Shiu guides you down to the sand. As you’re enjoying the scenery, your boyfriend Shiu gets down on one knee. You turn to look at him and he says
“Would you like to spend the rest of our lives together?“ while holding the ring.
characters: Kento Nanami, Hiromi Higuruma, Atsuya Kusakabe, Shiu Kong
warnings: none just fluff
a/n: for this one i used their mbti’s as help bc of my writers block so… hope this felt accurate (also went a little overboard with Hiromi’s so…)
Hiromi Higuruma
“Why did you leave work?“
“Because work is never as important as being your dad, you will always be my priority“
Hiromi never really saw himself having children and therefore was scared when you told him you were pregnant. It’s not that he was unhappy or upset about it, he was just scared of being a bad dad to his future kid. In typical Hiromi fashion, he took parenting classes and forced you to come with him since he was embarrassed to go alone. He knew that if he studied like he did in school, considering he was always the best in class, then he’d learn how to be a good father.
When his son was born, Hiromi didn’t expect his life to change as much as it did. He had a hard time getting used to the constant loud cries since he loved the quietness of his home so much, it was his safe space after coming home from his hectic and loud job. Hiromi isn’t a very emotional person so when his baby cries, he has a hard time keeping calm. Even after taking a million parenting classes, he still has a hard time trying to understand what the baby wants since they can only communicate by crying. Because of all of this he would just let you handle the baby and do everything else instead like cleaning, cooking, going grocery shopping and just doing whatever you usually would so you can focus on the baby. Of course if you asked him to help with your baby he would, like if you needed to shower or just take a nap he would obviously take care of the baby.
Hiromi is the type of dad that wouldn’t constantly be praising his kid or show his love for his kid verbally, he would instead just listen to them and show his love by actions. His actions speak louder than most parents' words, for example, if his kid has any interest he would happily let his kid teach him about it and spend time doing this interest with them. He is the type of dad that would always be at every single event his kid has, whether that be sport games, their music shows, parent meetings or anything involving his kid, he is always there. He also loves teaching his kid, it can be homework or just teaching them about life. He loves it when his kid is curious about things and will happily teach them about it. Hiromi would raise his kid to be independent, intelligent and capable of handling anything that life throws at them. He would help them be independent and strong by giving them opportunities to challenge themselves without him micromanaging or hovering over them. These “challenges” would be things like letting them get dressed by themselves and ready for the day or ordering for themselves at a restaurant, it can also be things like standing up for themselves if another kid is mean to them at the playground. It sounds harsh but it’s not since these “challenges” would always have him nearby if his kid just can’t do it and Hiromi would never let his kid handle things they aren’t ready for, he just wants them to be ready for life when he’s not there to help them. He loves his alone time but also loves spending one-on-one time with his kid since it helps him bond with them. Since Hiromi has a hard time verbally expressing things to his kid (also you sometimes) he will write notes for his kid, sometimes he will leave notes in their room or in their lunch box. His kid know that if they ever need someone to just listen to them then their dad is always there and will always show up for them no matter what.
Kento Nanami
“How did you know about that dad?”
“I know everything about you from just watching and listening, that’s my job as your father”
Kento has always wanted to have a “typical family life”. The day you two found out about the pregnancy, he literally jumped up and down. He read every single book on parenting just to make sure he would be the best father for his child. Also he read books about how to support you, his wife, since he wanted to help support you through it all.
When his daughter was born he took a break from work and stayed home for 6 months. He knew having a newborn was going to be hard for you to handle alone. It helped you get through postpartum so much easier. He would clean the house, stay up late when the baby was crying, cook food when you didn’t have the energy and just be there for you.
One thing about Kento is that he’s a very observant person, that not only applies to his job or you, it also applies to his kid. He will immediately notice if something is wrong or if something has happened in their life, that’s why he will also make sure that his kid always feels comfortable coming to him about anything. It can be if someone is bullying them or they got hurt and just want comfort, whatever they need to get off their chest, he’s always there to support and listen. He will definitely raise the kid to be independent and hardworking. It’s not by force but by teaching them how to do things, such as how to tie their shoes, how to get dressed, how to cook and other small things. He wants his kid to be independent and not have to rely on someone else since he won’t always be there to help. Kento wants his kid to be hardworking and know how it feels when your hard work pays off. He will have them do chores but will always give them something in return, like if they clean up their room they can pick out anything they want from the store. He also tries to lead by example a lot since he knows most kid turn out like their parents. That’s why when he’s around his kid, he will never cuss, he will look both ways before crossing the road, treats other people with respect (Gojo makes it hard) and he always makes sure to never let his kid hear or see him argue/fight with you. He would be considered a strict dad to others because of his parenting style but he doesn’t care since he knows it’s not abusive and will teach his kid valuable skills for their future. His kid will come to him if they have problems or need him and that’s all that matters for him since it shows him that even when he’s strict, they always know that he does it out of love and that he’s still a good dad even when he feels like he’s being too harsh. He also knows that they will be able to solve some problems by themselves as they have shown him that as well.
Atsuya Kusakabe
“Do you promise not to judge me?“
“I won’t ever judge you for being who you are, your still my kid no matter what“
Atsuya is a very private person, he rarely talked to you about his feelings or anything too intimate about him. When you told him you were pregnant you didn’t know how he would respond, he just stared at you for a moment, which scared you. Then he smiled and gave you a big hug. You two hadn’t really talked about having kids since you were both busy but now that it’s happening you both were thrilled. He immediately started building a nursery for your baby. He painted it a beautiful pastel yellow color since you two didn’t want to find out the gender. He helped you a lot during pregnancy since he felt bad about the pain and struggles you had to endure.
The day you gave birth he was super supportive throughout the whole thing. He was constantly asking you what you needed but eventually just let you tell him what you wanted. When Atsuya held his son for the first time, he cried from happiness. This was one of the very few moments you saw him cry during your entire time together. He stayed home with you and had already planned the whole semester just for this reason, so he could stay home while the sub knew what to do with the students. Atsuya was very helpful with the baby during your postpartum as he saw how hard it all was for you. He would take care of the baby while you got to do what you wanted.
Atsuya may look and sound harsh on his students but with his kid, it’s a whole different story. He is the “fun dad”, he always comes home and starts silly playtime with his kid (tickling, chasing, wrestling, throwing them in the air and catching them etc). He wants his kid to have fun with him and feel like they can be themselves around him, that’s why he always encourages his kid to try different sports and hobbies. He will raise his kid to be independent, curious, strong and unique. He wants his kid to be independent so that they can rely on themselves when needed. He also wants them to be curious so that they learn more and become smart. When his kid asks him something, he will always happily answer and even teach them about stuff if they want, if they for example ask him something about jujutsu then he will happily teach them about it. He was a curious kid and that’s how he became such a good sorcerer, even without a cursed technique. Atsuya definitely spends his weekends and evenings doing something with his kids, if they want to play baseball then he will find all the right equipment and drive to a field where they can play, if they want to sit down and draw then he will buy all the stuff they might need and sit there for hours drawing. He is such a laid-back dad and will just go with the flow. His kid will always know that their dad will always be there for them and won’t get mad unless they have done something really bad. They will also know that they can express themselves however they want around him since he just wants his kid to be happy, no matter what.
Shiu Kong
“Dad I’m sorry but I only got a B on my test“
“That’s okay, why don’t we go study together and I’ll help you with whatever you’re having trouble with. You can always ask me for help“
Shiu never saw himself as a family man considering his type of job and had said to you before marriage that it would be too dangerous to have kids with him. So you found out you were pregnant… you thought he would just say “get an abortion”, but instead he went quiet and then just asked “do you wanna keep it?” and when you nodded slowly thinking ‘he’s going to divorce me over this’, he instead just hugged you. As he hugged you the thought of becoming a father hit him and it surprised him how much he actually loved the idea. Shiu took great care of you during your pregnancy and loved feeling the kicks from your belly. Everytime he had a rough day at work, he would just come home and lay on your tummy while talking to you (and the baby) about his horrible day.
When his daughter was born, he held her and felt a new type of love that he’d never felt before. During your postpartum he tried to stay home as much as possible but with his hectic job, it wasn’t always possible. Therefore he would always stay up at night while the baby was crying and help clean up the house, you always woke up to breakfast on the table and a happy baby in the crib.
Shiu is a busy man but he always makes time for his family. If something happens, he will be there in 5 minutes to help. He is a very loyal man and that goes for his family as well. His kid knows that their dad will always be there, no matter what. Shiu will raise his kid to be independent, hardworking and smart. He will use punishments since that’s what he believes shapes a person and helps them understand that actions have consequences. He will never go too far with these punishments and uses ones that match their age, so if his toddler needs punishment then he will put them in time out for 5 minutes so they can take a breath and think about what they did. He wants his kid to do well academically so that they can get a good job and become independent. He will patiently and happily help them with homework as he has studied at university level. He will make sure that they know how much it will pay off in the future if they do well in school by giving them little rewards for good grades and being a good student. He isn’t a helicopter parent but since he used to be a detective and because of his job now, it’s impossible for his kid to hide anything. He doesn’t punish his kid for talking to friends or having crushes but he will always know what’s going on in his kid’s life. Shiu’s kid will be very academically talented and independent. They will also know that their dad will always be there when needed.
