ᴄᴏʟᴅʀᴀᴍᴇɴ .ᐟ

“ 𝖨'𝗅𝗅 𝖻𝖾𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝖺 𝙜𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝗁𝖾𝗋𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎. ”

[theghostofcoldramen]

. છ 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗽𝗲𝗮𝗰𝗲 𝗂𝗇 𓏲

◟ 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ໑ ︵ . . .

⋮ 🧃 ┆ coldramen . 8teen . African American . Any prns . Mulifandom . Professional loser . Caleb's wife . Yuji's #1 . Himbo lover . Shinso themed blog

traditional artist and inspiring fic writer; dont bully me im new gennnn im new gennn

: ̗̀⁍ Latest : More than Less

⊰⊱

[pervertedaydreams]

Let's Have A GAANG BAANG

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Pairing: Aang x Top/Seme Male Reader x Sokka x Zuko

Summary: It's been years since you've seen any of the gaang, and the three male members have just been dying to get their hands on you.

Featuring: Oral/anal sex, straddling, biting, blood, hand job, cowgirl, no-prep, exhibitionism, infidelity, jealousy/possessiveness, blow job, creampie, prostate massaging, making out, temperature play, glowing body parts, minimal Sokka x Zuko at the end, and cum play.

WC: 4.7k

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The flicker that came from the flames presented in front of you did nothing short of create a beautiful scene. Their romantic glow caused an inconsistent cascade of light and shadow to mix in the cave you and the rest of the crew were in.

Of course, the master behind those flames was even more impressive himself. It had been a while since you had seen Zuko in person—hell, since you had seen any of the members from your teenage group. After everyone had decided to go their own way, there was never much time for you all to have a mutual meetup, as everybody was busy pursuing their own life.

Maybe it was a calling from a spirit that Aang needed all your guys' help on this mission. You did miss the dynamic and energy that came from being surrounded by the people closest to you; heaven knows you craved to be going back and forth with the guys or teasing the girls about something random.

In the midst of your zoning out, you suddenly heard an abrupt yet clear cough that came from your right. 

"Hey, Y/n, you okay?" probed the same voice that previously cleared its throat, seeming to add a slight playfulness to its tone as if to not discomfort you. "You've been burning holes into Zuko’s torso for a good minute now."

Blinking your eyes a few times, you zoned back in to realize that your pupils had been laser focused on the fire lord's chest. Immediately ripping your eyes away from his body, you looked at the floor instead, deciphering whether it would be better to explain yourself to who you now realized was Sokka on your right or apologize to Zuko for the unintentional staring contest with his pecs.

You ultimately decided to do both while keeping your gaze on the ground, assuming that would save you the most humiliation from the expressions plastered on your comrades’ faces.

"My bad, I guess I was too in my head and didn't realize where I was looking," you mumbled timidly, like a kid who was forced to say sorry by their guardian. On your right you heard Toph let out a cheeky snicker while Katara started to tease.

"What's so enthralling about Zuko’s chest that had you zoning out over it, huh?" the waterbender taunted, wrapping a lazy arm around Aang’s shoulders. She put a portion of her weight on him while eyeing you, her grin stretching across her face at the realization she struck gold in something to mess with you about when you covered your face with shame, groaning in response.

"It was nothing. I'm telling you, I got busy thinking and didn't pay attention to where my eyes were," you stated disgruntledly, trying to be as casual about the conversation topic as possible in hopes that it would make it die out faster.

"Yeah, right," Toph mocked, now starting to join in on the ridiculing that should've ended 30 seconds ago, "I bet you were doing it on purpose and are just making the zoning out thing up to not get caught."

The metalbender got more comfortable in her sideways position on the floor before looking in your direction. For a blind woman, she sure did have a talent for knowing where to look to make eye contact.

"You can admit Zuko is pretty handsome," she kept on going, manipulating a small rock to head in the firebender’s direction and circle his upper body. You dragged your eyes over to look at him, wondering if he was hating the situation as much as you, only to be met with a rather flustered expression.

Although he wasn't saying anything or interacting with the discourse, Zuko was visibly red in the face. His shoulders were nearly steaming from how hot he was.

'He's probably just surprised at the direction the conversation went in,' you reasoned, not questioning his reaction much. 'It's nothing.'

Thinking about reactions, it had just dawned on you that neither of the other males in the room had said a single word since you apologized. Looking over at Sokka and Aang, you noticed that they seemed rather...tame with the whole theatrical.

They didn't seem overjoyed at the opportunity to dogpile on you about something silly like they usually would. Instead, their faces reflected that of hidden discontent. 

Sokka was wearing a smile like usual, but the ends of his mouth shifted from time to time as if he were forcing himself to do it for appearances. Aang was barely reciprocating Katara’s physical affection, spiritlessly wrapping his arm around her waist while mundanely looking around the room.

Their reactions were inherently odd compared to how you last remembered them acting. However, again, it has been several years since everyone's gotten together like this. Perhaps they've just grown up and changed.

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Nighttime had officially fallen, and everyone had mutually decided it was time to rest. After a bit of rearranging had been done to better set up for sleeping, the crew had started to pull out their own bed linens and do whatever else was needed before lying down. 

You had found yourself taking the space between Zuko and Sokka, dropping your blanket and slowly following it onto the ground as well. Sluggishly mumbling a goodnight to the rest of the group, you closed your eyes and instantly began dwindling into a limbo between wakefulness and sleep, your exhaustion overtaking you.

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Gradually evening out your breathing, you tried focusing on the black behind your eyelids and disconnecting from the rest of your surroundings. In the process of doing so, though, you heard a shuffling coming from in front of you. 

‘Someone's just probably changing positions,’ you thought to yourself. ‘It's not like sleeping on a cave floor is the most ideal resting location.’

Just when you were about to return to your previous activity of zoning into nothingness, you heard something again, but this time it was coming near you. Someone was up, but that shouldn't bother you. There isn't any danger from anyone in the team. You're safe, and as far as you know nobody from the outside is coming in.

Still, you opened your eyes just to peek at who exactly it was and what they were doing at this hour of the night. You did not expect, however, to be met with Zuko hovering over you, his stature unwavering even as he came to realize you were, in fact, awake.

"Uhm, hey there, Zuko," you started, a slight concern present in your voice by the odd interaction. "Everything alright?" The buffer man did nothing but gaze down at you for a few more seconds.

It was when you were about to go in again with another question that he finally acted, kneeling down to meet you at face level and inching towards yours. Somewhat appalled by the action, you attempted to lean back and put some space between the two of you, but just as you were starting to, another hand made contact with your neck, halting your movement.

Slightly jumping at the unexpected intervention, you turned around to be met with Sokka already looking back at you, his loosened hair cascading over the front of his face, giving him a rather alluring appearance. 

"Why are you up?" Zuko grilled in a low voice, though it came out more like a statement with how harsh his voice sounded. While asking, he leaned forward again, but this time his body language came off more territorial than usual. Your knees bumped together as he took a hold of your forearm, seeming as if ready to drag you away from the other man.

"The same reason you are," Sokka bit back, pulling out a smile as he gave Zuko an all-knowing look. You now wore a perplexed expression, completely unaware of whatever hidden message was being spelled out behind the pair’s short sentences to one another. What exactly was Zuko here to do?

You didn't have to wait much longer for that question to be answered, though, as Sokka pulled his arm back—your hair that was held by that same hand went with it. He forced the back of your head onto his collarbone, instantly diving into an open-mouth kiss. The tactician’s tongue played inside your mouth, making room for itself without prior notice.

Your eyes widened at the intrusion, too surprised to take any immediate action. Too caught up in the obscurity of the moment to fight back or do anything but make an alarmed noise. 

"You—" Zuko spat out, catching himself before going off the handle over what he was seeing in front of him. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. Everyone should've been asleep, and the two of you should be kissing. Yet, now that the situation has been changed, there's nothing he can do except modify his plan.

The flame king clenched his teeth, taking a breath before crawling towards you. Just because Sokka landed the first move didn't mean it was over for him. He slowly brought his hands to rest on your thighs, using them as leverage to put his weight as he neared your necks. The firebender began to leave soft kisses from your collarbone to your neck, finding home on one of your scent glands and beginning to suck. If Sokka got the first kiss, he was going to be the first to leave a mark on you.

You groaned into Sokka’s mouth at the sensation on your neck, subconsciously wrapping a hand around Zuko’s waist to keep him there. The man who was responsible for tonguing you seemed to take notice of this, a new rage filling him at the reciprocation in touch. How come Zuko got it and not him? Why were you even looking at his chest earlier? Did everything have to always be about him?

Deep in his thoughts, Sokka ripped his lips away from yours and dug into your neck instead. However, he wasn't as sweet with his markings as the fire lord. The inventor locked his canines into the skin in between your shoulder and neck, biting down without a second thought. An uncomfortable grunt came from your throat. Moving your irises down to look at the skin after feeling a trickling wet sensation on it, only to be met with your own blood flowing down and seeping into your clothes.

"W-what did you do?" you asked, a visible quiver in your voice at the fact that you already knew the answer. Sokka dragged his eyes back to your own, a small grin of satisfaction on his face. Lowering his head, he licked the open wound, not breaking eye contact with you as he lapped up the spilling red liquid. That seemed to have gotten your attention away from the other male.

While in a dazed state and still looking at the clear bite mark on your trapezius, you heard another shuffle come from across the cave. That's when reality hit you again: there were several other people in the lair that could wake up at any given moment and see the scenario unfolding.

Although you told yourself that scared you, and your stomach filled with anxiety at the thought, you somehow felt an additional mix of arousal at the idea too. That small drop of it must've been enough to cause your body to react, as you felt yourself growing.

Zuko seemed to notice it too, looking down to be met with a clear bulge sticking forward in your pants. Continuing to gaze at it, he moved one hand away from your thigh and cupped your clothed penis. A ragged breath tore through your lips at the feeling. This caused the fire lord to snap his head back up, looking at your pleased expression and uneven breathing that was mildly hitting his face.

A blush crept up his cheeks as he swallowed down the saliva that had unknowingly been building up in his mouth.

"Don't worry, I'll take care of it," he whispered, letting himself catch a small peck from your unguarded lips before lowering his head to be between your legs. Though the contact of lips merely lasted for a second, you could feel just how high his body temperature was. Had he not been the leader of the Fire Nation, you would have become concerned at just how hot he was. 

You got distracted from his steamy kiss, however, when you heard the shuffling from before again, but this time it seemed more consistent. Hearing a groan, you turned your head to be met with Aang slowly waking up. Your heart started beating even harder, a mix of feelings seeping into your skin. 

The moment you were experiencing had happened so fast that you hadn't even thought to yourself what you would do if another member woke up. You hadn't exactly wanted this, so should you ask for help? Yet again, you weren't exactly fully opposed either. 

Not much time to think was given, though, before the airbender rubbed any sleepiness he had left over from his eyes and scanned the view in front of him. After shifting his now wide eyes back and forth and analyzing what was going on, his pupils ultimately landed on you. Staring back at him, you said nothing, but your expression was an amalgamation of panic, anxiety, and arousal.

A beat passed without anyone saying anything, but eventually the avatar slowly rose from his bed, walking more casually than you would've expected towards the scene. Squatting down in front of you, he cupped your face and leaned into a kiss. His kiss was less intense and aggressive than Sokka’s, but just as hungry. He let himself moan into the kiss, seemingly enjoying the small yet heated act of intimacy.

"Not gonna say hello or anything before crashing the party?" probed Sokka through heavy breaths. One of his hands was down his pants and the other up his shirt, twitching his right nipple. He had become so spellbound by the bite mark he left on you that he'd been lapping and sucking on it for minutes, getting off at just how dark and noticeable he could make that singular mark of his on your skin.

Aang spared him a glance before returning his attention back to you, not completely in the mood for talking.

"It's not like there's much to say. And anyways, I obviously showed up late, so I have some catching up to do." He simply stated, closing his eyes to continue the kiss while slowly reaching to hold one of your hands. 

By this point you had stopped including rationality or morals into the mix. You were so drawn in by the kiss that it hadn't even hit you that out of all three men, Aang was very much taken. The man who was necking you like he needed you in order to breathe was in a relationship with a woman who was less than 20 feet away from you.

The thought itself punched your gut with guilt, but with the way he was kissing you the negative feeling slowly transitioned into one of excitement. You eagerly kissed back, letting the airbender intertwine your guys' hands together as you made out. It wasn't your responsibility anyway to deal with the way people went about their relationships.

A sharp inhale was forced into your lungs as you felt a warm sensation overtake your cock. Slightly opening your eyes, you lowered your vision to be met with Zuko and his mouth wrapped around your shaft. You could see the tip of it poke out through his cheek as he made his best attempt at taking you all in. 

Utilizing your free hand, you moved it over to be on top of his head, caressing and petting his hair in a way of showing praise for his actions. The lord peered back up at you, his half-lidded eyes making their best attempt to stay on you as he swallowed, making more space in his throat for your dick to pierce through. 

"Lean back for me, baby," heaved out the strategist behind you, freeing the hand latched to his nipple and making a feeble attempt at pushing your shoulder down to put you on your back. You obliged, momentarily removing your hand from Zuko’s head—who seemed rather saddened by the missing physical contact—to balance yourself as you lay on your back, stretching your legs out to give the one between them better access.

Aang followed you down the whole way, continuing to smooch you like a lovesick puppy. It really started to make you wonder just how devoted he was to Katara with how feverishly he was about a simple kiss.

When he leaned back to catch his breath, Sokka took that as an opportunity to use your mouth for himself. Putting a hand on your chest, he used his other to peel off any clothing item that was on his lower body. Once they were discarded, he crawled closer to you, putting a leg on either side of your neck and straddling your face.

Without even needing to speak, you knew what he wanted to do and instantly cooperated, moving one hand to get a firm hold on his thighs as you helped lower him onto your face. Now that your mouth was taken, the avatar resorted to kissing your free hand instead, slowly moving it over to his lips. The wet sensation of his tongue rolling around your middle and index fingers was felt directly as he sucked on them while palming himself through his pants. 

You laid your tongue flat under Sokka’s ass, licking a long line from his balls to his brown hole. This seemed to appease him, evident by the strained exhale that left his lips. Deciding to stop teasing, you went for the real motive. Pointing your tongue, you wiggled it into his anus, letting a finger you had previously wet tease around the edges before ultimately sinking in too. The inventor arched his back at the intrusion, slapping a hand over his mouth to keep his voice down while you worked your way into his hole.

The change in pace seemed to have struck a nerve for the element bender more down south. Zuko retracted his lips away from your cock and impatiently started to part ways with his lower-body garments as well. Throwing them off to the side, he inched closer to your midbody, deciding to straddle your hips before he made a reach for your cock again.

By this point Aang had soaked your fingers in enough of his saliva that it dripped down the back of your hand and onto your wrist. He pulled back from it, a string still connecting to your middle finger before fully detaching. 

Lowering his pants just enough to unsheathe his cock, he moved your hand over to position it in a way that your palm would immediately make contact with his base. As you felt around it, you wrapped your hand around his dick with a firm hold, going to toy with the tip and realizing it was already leaking pre-cum. 

A groan left your mouth and reverberated into Sokka’s tight walls as you felt Zuko’s warm ones take in your cock. The sensation mildly came off as painful first due to the lack of prep he had done for himself, too eager to have you inside him to consider the faults of his rushed plan.

However, his walls were soooo warm. He absolutely lived up to the fire lord name with how heated and comfortable the muscles taking your penis in were. A small groan of discomfort left his mouth at the initial penetrating sensation, but eventually he started to move, not seeming to let the tenuous pain get in his way.

“Do you feel it, Y/n?” he called out, looking down at the visible bump in his stomach from your cock. He felt himself twitch just from the sight below him. Moving a hand over to lay it over the protruding skin, he instinctively tightened around you even more. “We’re one now, too.”

He placed his hands on your torso while swaying his hips, moving them in a circular motion as he made his best attempt to properly ride you. Although the lack of preparation made for an uncomfortable start, the more he grinded down on your dick, the more tolerable it became.

Just when he was about to start speeding up, the side of your cock hit a bundle of nerves that made him gasp, suddenly freezing at the spike of pleasure he felt. When he tried moving again, he realized it was a lot harder to hit that same spot with the way he was positioned. 

He grounded his feet on the floor, taking a squatting position before beginning to bounce up and down on your dick. The change had absolutely helped, as he was more frequently able to make contact with the spot.

"U-ughhh, Y/n, Y/n, Y-Y/n, this feels really good," whined the man, getting cock-drunk the more stretched out his walls became from your erect piece of flesh. His eyes started to unfocus as he didn't know where to look while feeling this almost unbearable amount of pleasure.

With Zuko now having a repeated pace he was fucking himself on your cock with, it caused you to also start reacting to the building feeling in your abdomen. Pulling your finger out of Sokka’s anus, you wrapped your hand around his thigh, squeezing it as a method to mildly ground yourself. 

Focusing instead on protruding your tongue as deep as you could inside him, you used that hand to push him even closer to your face. 

While moving your tongue near the middle of his walls, he suddenly clenched around your tongue, letting out a small mewl and clawing at your thorax. Seeing this as a good sign, you repeated your assault on that specific angle, locking your arm around his thigh when he tried rising from your tongue or squirming away. 

With your opposite hand, you had started to fully jerk Aang off, utilizing the pre he had been leaking as a form to more smoothly glide your hand on his cock. He had been able to better handle the sensation of pleasure than the other two men, focusing on keeping his breathing evened and as quiet as possible. 

Yet, even with not being as loud as them, his pleasure could be visibly seen by his arrows actively glowing. He had also put a portion of his weight on one arm, slowly starting to feel himself collapse the closer he got to reaching his high. Even with his energies being down, though, he made an attempt at reciprocating your actions by repeatedly pushing his hips forward, humping your hand in return for the service. 

"T-thank you f-for this, Y/n," he huffed out, trying to put together words without letting out an audible moan. With the hand not supporting his weight, he laid it on your forearm, wanting to have more physical contact with you even aside from the one already taking place.

"I-I," Zuko whimpered, taking in a few breaths before trying his sentence again, "I'm going to cum soon." Had you not been tongue-deep in Sokka’s ass, you would’ve realized that the firebender was heating up like crazy. 

Aside from his walls sucking you in so warmly, his back—leading up to his shoulders—and thighs were releasing steam at a rapid pace. It’s surprising he hasn’t caught on fire by this point.

Sokka agreed with his message by nodding his head, opening his mouth to speak, but only an airy moan came out.

"Me too," he added, biting his lip the closer he got to his climax. He’d started grinding his hips back into your face, alternating from shifting away at your abuse towards his prostate. “I-I don’t think I can last much longer.”

Out of the three men fondling you, the air nomad was the only one that stayed more so quiet, seeming too caught up on your hand pumping him to care about the other two’s words. Yet, he too felt himself building up and getting ready to explode. Anyone could tell, really, if they simply looked at him. He was lighting up like a glow stick the closer he got to reaching his peak.

Five more bounces later and Zuko had started shaking, his orgasm overtaking him as he clenched and unclenched around your cock. He wasn’t able to actually say anything, but small strained noises left his lips while he aimlessly looked up at the ceiling of the cave. 

His seed spilled all over your stomach, dripping down to nearly reach your belly button. The flame king’s breathing continued to waver as he felt his limbs collapsing, the overexertion from riding you taking a toll now that the high was coming to an end.

But it didn't come without the seeping of your own semen starting to fill him too. He softly gasped as he let himself hunch over, using your cum-splattered stomach for leverage while you let your load out inside him.

Sokka came next, the moans from you reaching your own peak being the last thing he needed to be thrown over the edge and climax as well. His thighs tightened around your head as he bit his hand to cheaply cover his moans. He tipped his cum on your pecs, some of it still dripping from his tip, painting little dots in the middle of your collarbone.

As Sokka and Zuko both were catching their breaths, stooped over and holding onto a part of your core for leverage, they timidly made eye contact. They were practically breathing on each other from how close in proximity they were. 

The non-bender decided to make the move first, and he weakly reached out for the flamebender’s face, pulling him into a tired and messy kiss. Although mildly surprised, the other didn't pull back and soon started to kiss back. The two silently rejoiced in the kiss, seemingly content with what they got out of tonight.

Aang finished last, an extra few pumps from you being enough to finally join the rest of you in the euphoria that came with experiencing sexual relief.

With his mouth agape but no sound coming out of it, his arrows maintained an unwavering glow throughout his whole orgasm, and his eyes fully went bright for a few seconds before calming down. His cum dribbled onto your closed hand, gradually slipping downwards and seeping into the web space between your thumb and index finger.

When the avatar finally came to—with wobbly breaths and tears poking at the corners of his eyes—and saw the mess of himself in your now-relaxed fist, he used that as a weak opportunity for the two of you to "unite" as well.

Shakily moving the hand previously grabbing yours, he slid it over to your knuckles, extending his fingers to intertwine his hand with yours once again, letting his still-warm semen mix into both of your palms. That was his personal compromise for not getting to have a part of you inside him.

Everyone seemed to have been satisfied for tonight.

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The next day you had mysteriously risen with a fever. Nothing deadly, but definitely not well enough for you to move much for the day.

"You were just fine yesterday," stated Katara, organizing her bag before getting started on whatever needed to be done that day. "I just don't understand where this could have come from in such little time."

"Maybe those guys chasing us had something to do with it," guessed Toph, shrugging her shoulders while putting her hair up. It's true, there hadn't been that big of a time window in between yesterday, when you were doing just fine, and today, when you're practically bedridden.

But there definitely had been a lot of action, and none of the men in the room seemed to want to offer any explanation for your sudden decrease in health.

"I'm not too sure what happened, but someone should stay near Y/n while the rest of us go out," the waterbender sighed, seeming both concerned and irritated at your condition.

"The three of us can stay behind, and you two look for resources today," chimed Sokka, getting closer to you and putting a hand to your forehead, checking your body temperature. "There's a decent chance someone might locate us here, and if that happens we won't be able to move as efficiently with one of us being weaker."

Katara wanted to interject, but Zuko and Aang cut her short by immediately expressing their agreement with Sokka’s idea. She eventually gave up on proposing any other agenda and went on her way with Toph, leaving you alone with the three other men.

Nothing to worry about anyways; they were obviously going to take good care of you.

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[moviecritc]

yuuji itadori and naruto uzumaki are too big and too clingy for your own good ˚.✦

You regret the moment you told your boyfriends that you run cold because now, every time you three cuddle together they just flop on top of you, four big ass arms wrapping around your body, their whole weight resting on yours and they fill your face with kisses and bites.

“I’m going to die,” you say, barely above a whisper because Naruto’s face is pressed right into your lungs as Yuuji is biting your cheek. “Please God, what did I do?” You look up, sighing while Naruto and Yuuji just burst out laughing. It’s so easy to make them laugh or blush with just a few words from you.

Naruto lifts his head just enough so his bright blue eyes can sparkle down at you, his grin spreading across his face like sunshine. His blond hair is all messy from rubbing against your shirt and he looks so stupidly happy it makes your heart do a little flip even while you’re being squished.

“Aw, c’mon babe, you’re not dying! You’re just getting the best heating system ever,” he says, he nuzzles back into your neck, leaving a trail of soft little kisses that tickle. “We’re just doing our boyfriend duty. Right, Yuu?”

Yuuji hums happily against your cheek, his teeth giving one last gentle nibble before he switches to peppering the spot with tiny kisses instead. His pink hair brushes your skin, and he smells like the strawberry candy he stole from your kitchen earlier. “Totally,” he mumbles, voice muffled because he refuses to pull away even an inch. “We’re keeping you warm. Super warm. The warmest. Can’t have our favorite person turning into an ice cube.”

You try to wiggle, but it’s hopeless. Two six-foot-something boyfriends are basically pressing you on the couch until you become one, and they’re way too strong for their own good. Or yours. 

“You guys are too big,” you whine, but it comes out all soft and smiley because how can you stay mad when they’re looking at you like that? “I can’t even breathe properly. Naruto, your elbow is in my rib.”

Naruto gasps like you just told him the world is ending. He shifts immediately, but only so he can wrap that arm tighter around your waist instead. “Sorry, sorry! Better?” He plants a big, loud kiss on your forehead. “You’re so cute like this, it makes me wanna hug you forever.” 

Yuuji nods so fast his hair flops into his eyes. He finally lifts his head, cheeks flushed pink and that bright grin of his making his whole face light up. “Yeah… you’re tiny compared to us. It’s the best.” He leans in and presses his lips to yours in a sweet peck, then immediately goes back to kissing your cheek like he’ll die if he stops. “I love you so much it’s kinda embarrassing. Like, I see you and my brain just goes ‘mine mine mine’ on repeat.”

Naruto laughs again, filling the whole room. He rests his chin on your shoulder so he can look at both of you. “Same! Every time you smile at me I feel like I’m gonna explode. You’re too perfect, you know that?” He sneaks in a little bite to your earlobe, gentle enough not to hurt but enough to make you squeak. “My cute little human heater. Wait, no, we’re the heaters. You’re the cute one.”

You can’t help it. A giggle bubbles up even as you’re still trapped under all that muscle and affection. “You two are so whipped,” you mutter, reaching up to thread your fingers through Naruto’s messy hair. He leans into your touch like a big puppy, eyes half-closing in pure bliss.

“Guilty,” Yuuji says without a single ounce of shame. He catches your other hand and brings it to his lips, kissing your knuckles one by one. “I’d carry you around all day if you let me. Just so I can keep you close.”

Naruto nods eagerly. “We could take turns. Or both carry you at the same time. Bet we could make it work.”

You groan, but you’re smiling so wide your cheeks hurt. “You’re impossible. Both of you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Naruto agrees, voice going all soft and fond as he presses another kiss to your temple. “But you love us anyway.”

Yuuji snuggles even closer, if that’s possible, his big hand rubbing slow circles on your side. “And we love you more than anything. So just let us squish you a little longer, okay? For warmth. And because you’re our favorite person in the whole world.”

You sigh again, but this time it’s happy. The weight of them is heavy, sure, but it’s also safe and warm and full of so much love it feels like your chest might burst. “Fine, fine.”

a/n: the target audience for this is me, literally just me

[belchyra]

Let me take care of you

[ SYNOPSIS ] — You try to be the "perfect" partner to Megumi by hiding your own needs and pain so you wouldn’t be a nuisance. This habit becomes dangerous when you get badly hurt on a mission and lie about it, leading to a tearful confrontation when he finds you bleeding in secret. w.c: 4.8k

[ PAIRING ] — megumi fushiguro x people pleaser!reader

[ TAGS ] — gn!reader, established relationship, canon compliant (?), hidden injury, blood, reassurance, hurt/comfort, use of [Name] once, megumi is a sweetheart as usual. Lmk if I missed anything! art by: @/hong_nock

​"You wouldn't mind taking care of these mission reports for me, would you? You're a lifesaver!"

​Satoru Gojo didn't even pause to wait for an answer, dropping a stack of heavily redacted, coffee-stained files onto your already cluttered desk. His iconic blindfold was pushed up, a devastatingly charming smile plastered across his face—the kind of smile that made it entirely impossible for anyone to refuse him.

​Your head was pounding. A dull, rhythmic thud echoed right behind your eyes, a souvenir from a consecutive string of sleepless nights. You had your own reports to file, a history exam to help Yuji study for, and Nobara had explicitly told you to be ready in twenty minutes to carry her bags through Shibuya. Your throat tightened, the word no forming perfectly on your tongue.

It was right there. All you had to do was push it past your teeth.

​"Of course, Sensei," you heard yourself say, the voice sounding entirely detached from your own body. "I'll have them on Principal Yaga's desk by three."

​"Knew I could count on you!" He gave you a cheerful salute and vanished in a blur of limitless space, leaving you staring at the mountain of paperwork. You swallowed the sigh building in your chest, picked up your pen, and started writing.

This was simply how you survived. You made yourself a skeleton key, filing down your own edges, your own needs, and your own exhaustion until you perfectly fit the lock of whatever anyone else required. If you were useful, if you were accommodating, if you smoothed out the friction in the lives of the people around you, they would never look at you and decide you were too much trouble to keep around, that's how it should be, right?

​But nowhere was this exhausting performance more prevalent than in your relationship with Megumi Fushiguro.

Megumi with his quiet nature, Megumi with his storm-clouded eyes, Megumi who shouldered so much— with Tsumiki's curse, with the expectations of having a powerful cursed technique, Megumi who you were so so so afraid of losing.

You still have a hard time believing you two are dating. The way it happened was so casual it almost felt unreal.

It wasn’t a grand confession, just a quiet surrender to everything that made you fall for him. The hallway was still buzzing with leftover energy from Yuji’s and Nobara’s laughter, but at your door, the silence felt heavy. Megumi lingered, hands shoved in his pockets, before his fingers grazed your wrist as you were about open the door. When he leaned in, it was with the soft gentleness of someone who had finally found a place to let his guard down. The kiss was brief, but you both knew exactly where you stood in each other's lives.

Yet, being his partner did not cure your affliction; it magnified it even further. You treated your relationship like fragile glass sculpture you had to constantly balance on your fingertips. You altered your entire existence to fit the mold of what you assumed was his ideal, low-maintenance partner.

You drank your tea unsweetened because he preferred bitter things, forcing the astringent liquid down your throat every morning while secretly craving sugar. You slept rigidly on the absolute edge of his mattress, your muscles cramping by dawn, just to ensure he had the lion’s share of the blankets. When he was exhausted from a mission, you swallowed your own awful, lingering trauma from the day, hiding your bruises beneath long sleeves and painting a bright, serene smile on your face so you wouldn’t add to his mental load.

And Megumi knew.

He was incredibly perceptive, and the forced perfection of your behavior was beginning to wear on him like coarse grit against his skin. He saw the way your hands shook when you agreed to take a double patrol shift. He noticed the barely perceptible flinch when he absentmindedly turned the television to a channel you secretly hated, only for you to vehemently agree that it was a great program to watch. It frustrated him.

Megumi loved you, he loved you so much it pained him, but he felt like he was dating a shadow, only moving when he did. And he did not know how to bring it up without fearing for what you would do.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

The mission was supposed to be a standard Grade 2 curse eradication in an abandoned subway terminal. It was a joint assignment for the two of you, a rare opportunity to work together. But the intelligence from the auxiliary managers was flawed, as it so often was. The curse was a Grade 1, a massive, grotesque amalgamation of rusted metal and rotting flesh that moved with terrifying speed.

The battle was chaotic in the claustrophobic underground tunnels. Dust choked the air, illuminated only by the flickering, dying fluorescent lights overhead. Megumi had summoned Nue to provide aerial attacks, the electrical discharge illuminating the grim determination on his face. You were covering his blind spots, your own cursed energy manifesting in sharp and precise strikes.

It happened in a fraction of a second. The curse, recognizing Megumi as the greater threat, lunged toward him with a massive, scythe-like appendage. Megumi was mid-incantation, his hands clasped together, momentarily vulnerable.

Your body moved before your conscious mind could register the decision. The ingrained instinct to protect, to serve, to sacrifice, propelled you forward. You shoved Megumi hard, knocking him out of the trajectory of the blade.

The impact was deafening. The rusted metal sliced through the air and tore into your left side, ripping through your uniform and biting deep into the flesh of your waist. The agony was instantaneous, a blinding flare of white-hot pain that stole the oxygen from your lungs. You hit the concrete floor hard, the taste of copper flooding your mouth.

"Nue!" Megumi roared, his voice cracking with a rare, raw panic. The shikigami descended in a blinding flash of lightning, obliterating the curse in a concussive shockwave of cursed energy.

The dust settled, heavy and silent.

Megumi was beside you in an instant, his breathing ragged, his hands hovering over you as if afraid that touching you would shatter you completely. "Are you alright? Where did it hit you?" His eyes were wide, the usual cold indifference entirely stripped away, revealing the terrified boy underneath.

The pain in your side was excruciating, a throbbing, burning sensation that suggested the curse’s rusted blade had been laced with some kind of venomous energy. Blood was already soaking the fabric of your shirt, hot and sticky against your skin. You needed Shoko. You needed a stretcher.

But as you looked up into Megumi’s panic-stricken eyes, the old, familiar terror clawed at your throat. You caused this panic. You are making him worry. You ruined the mission. You are a burden.

The people pleaser within you seized the reins of your vocal cords.

You forced the agony down, burying it beneath a mountain of sheer, desperate willpower. You pushed yourself up on trembling arms, twisting your torso to hide the worst of the bleeding from his line of sight. You plastered on a smile that felt like it might crack your face in two.

"I'm fine," you lied, your voice painfully steady. "It just grazed me. I knocked the wind out of myself when I fell."

Megumi frowned, his dark brows knitting together in suspicion. He reached out to inspect your side, but you swiftly shifted away, standing up on shaking legs. The world tilted dangerously, black spots dancing in your peripheral vision, but you dug your nails into your palms to ground yourself.

"I swear, Megumi. I'm okay. Let's just report and go home. I'm exhausted." You kept your tone light, almost apologetic. "I'm sorry I got in your way. I should have been more careful."

The apology tasted vile. You had saved his life, yet you were apologizing for being in the way.

Megumi stared at you for a long, agonizing moment. The tension radiating from him was evident, his jaw clenched so tight a muscle ticked in his cheek. He knew you were hiding something. He could smell the blood. But your adamant refusal to acknowledge the danger built a wall between you that he didn't know how to breach, yet he trusted your judgment, he trusted that you would tell him if the injury was serious.

"Fine," he muttered, his voice dropping an octave, thick with frustration and repressed anxiety. He recalled his shikigami, the shadows swallowing Nue whole. "Let's go."

The car ride back to the college was nothing less than silent torture. You sat pressed against the passenger door, your arms wrapped tightly around your waist, secretly applying pressure to the wound that was continuously oozing blood. Every bump in the road sent a jolt of agony up your spine, but you bit the inside of your cheek until it bled rather than make a single sound. Ijichi drove in stony silence, his knuckles white on the steering wheel, every now and then apologising for the mistake in the mission logs, and then expressing his relief at your well-being.

By the time you reached the dormitories, you were running purely on adrenaline and the need to lock yourself in your bathroom before you collapsed.

"I'm going to take a shower!" you announced the moment you stepped into his room, your voice breathy and strained. You didn't wait for a response, practically fleeing into the adjoining bathroom and closing the door behind you.

The moment it was locked, the facade crumbled. Your knees gave out, and you slumped against the cold tile door, an agonizing gasp escaping your lips. You peeled off your ruined jacket and the blood-soaked shirt beneath it. The wound was horrific. An angry tear across your oblique, the edges blackened with residual cursed energy. It was deep, bleeding sluggishly but persistently.

Tears of pain and exhaustion finally spilled over your eyelashes, tracing hot paths down your dust-streaked cheeks. You had to clean it. You had to wrap it. You couldn't bother Shoko this late; she had been pulling all-nighters all week. You couldn't bother Megumi; he was already mad at you.

You dragged yourself to the sink, turning on the faucet. You grabbed a washcloth, soaked it in hot water, and pressed it against the wound.

A choked, pathetic sob tore from your throat. The pain was blinding, a sickening wave of nausea crashing over you. You squeezed your eyes shut, your entire body trembling violently as you tried to scrub away the blackened, infected tissue.

Click.

You froze. The sound of the lock turning from the outside. You had forgotten Megumi kept a spare key on the upper frame of the door for emergencies.

The door swung open, revealing Megumi standing in the threshold. He had changed out of his uniform, wearing only a loose t-shirt and sweatpants. He looked exhausted.

But whatever exhaustion he felt vanished the instant his eyes landed on you.

He took in the scene in a fraction of a second: your pale, shivering form hunched over the sink, the blood-soaked washcloth in your trembling hand, and the gruesome, gaping wound on your side that was currently dripping crimson onto the pristine white tiles.

The air in the bathroom seemed to drop ten degrees. The shadows in the corners of the room physically writhed, reacting to the sudden, violent spike in his cursed energy.

"What," Megumi breathed, his voice barely a whisper, yet it resonated with the force of an earthquake, "is that."

Panic, cold and sharp, flooded your veins. You scrambled to cover the wound with your arm, backing away from him like a cornered animal, your eyes wide and terrified.

"It's nothing!" you stammered, the words tumbling out of your mouth in a desperate rush. "I was just cleaning it. It looks worse than it is, Megumi, I promise. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to make a mess. I'll clean the floor, just—"

"Stop."

The command cracked through the air like a whip. Megumi stepped into the bathroom, kicking the door shut behind him. His face was a mask of cold fury, but his eyes—his deep, beautiful, stormy eyes—were wide with an emotion that looked terrifyingly like devastation.

He crossed the small space in two strides, grabbing your wrists. His grip was firm, inescapable, but agonizingly gentle as he pulled your hands away from your side. He sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth as he finally got a clear look at the injury.

"You call this a graze?" he demanded, his voice shaking with a terrifying, suppressed rage. "It's entirely infected with cursed energy. You need reverse cursed technique, immediately. Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you say anything in the tunnel?"

Your chest heaved as you struggled to pull oxygen into your lungs. The panic was taking over, suffocating you. You were trapped. You had failed. You had made him angry. You had become the burden you fought so hard not to be.

"I—I didn't want to worry you," you choked out, fresh tears welling in your eyes. "You were already stressed about the mission being a Grade 1. I didn't want to slow us down. I'm sorry, Megumi. I'm so, so sorry. Please don't be mad. I can fix it, I'll go to Shoko right now, you don't have to deal with this—"

"Stop apologizing!" Megumi yelled.

You flinched violently, your shoulders instantly hiking up to your ears, your head bowing in an automatic posture of submission. The silence that followed his shout was deafening, broken only by your ragged, hyperventilating breaths and the steady drip, drip, drip of blood hitting the floor.

Megumi stared at your cowering form, the anger draining out of him in a rush, leaving behind a profound, hollow ache in his chest. He realized, with a horrifying clarity, that you were not flinching because of the pain of your wound. You were flinching because of him.

He dropped your wrists as if they burned him, taking a step back, his hands taking place behind his neck.

"Why do you do this?" he asked, his voice cracking, the anger replaced by a desperate, agonizing confusion. "Why do you lie to me? Why do you let yourself bleed out in a bathroom rather than ask me for help? Am I that unapproachable? Am I that terrible of a boyfriend that you think I would be annoyed by you almost dying?"

"No!" you cried, your voice breaking, the absolute terror of him thinking he was at fault tearing at your heart. "No, Megumi, you're perfect. You're the best thing that ever happened to me. It's not you, it's me. I'm just… I'm just trying to be good. I'm trying to be easy. I don't want to be difficult."

"Easy?" Megumi repeated, the word sounding foreign and ugly in his mouth. He stepped forward again, crowding you against the edge of the sink, his hands gripping the porcelain on either side of your waist, trapping you in. He didn't touch you, but his presence was demanding your full attention.

"You think I want you to be 'easy'?" he pressed, his eyes searching yours frantically, demanding an honesty you didn't know how to give. "I want you to be honest! I want you to tell me when you are hurt so I can take care of you!"

You shook your head furiously, the tears flowing freely now, hot and unrelenting. Your entire body was trembling, your heart hammering against your ribs, threatening to break. You were breaking apart, the foundation of your entire coping mechanism crumbling beneath his gaze.

"You say that now," you sobbed, the ugly, deeply buried truth finally clawing its way up your throat, bitter and raw. "You say that now, but you don't know. You already have so much on your plate, I don't want to make it worse. If I don't do it, you will hate me, I don't want you to hate me."

The confession hung in the humid air of the bathroom, heavy and devastating.

You squeezed your eyes shut, waiting for the blow. Waiting for the agreement. Waiting for him to step back, to look at you with cold realization, and walk out the door. You had finally revealed the ugly, pathetic core of your soul. You were a coward, terrified of abandonment, buying love with servitude.

But the silence stretched. And then, you felt it.

The gentle, hesitant brush of his knuckles against your tear-soaked cheek.

Your eyes flew open. Megumi was looking at you with an expression that shattered your heart into a million irreparable pieces. It wasn't pity. It wasn't disgust, but heartbreak. His eyes were glassy, his lips parted as he struggled to find words that could possibly combat the magnitude of your self-hatred.

Slowly, carefully, as if approaching a wild, frightened animal, Megumi reached out. He didn't grab your wrists this time. He slid his arms around your waist, mindful of the gaping wound on your side, and pulled you flush against his chest.

He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath ghosting over your skin.

"You are so stupid," he whispered, the words muffled against your skin, devoid of any malice, dripping only with a desperate, heavy sorrow. "You are an incredible person, so beautiful, so incredible, but stupid."

You stiffened, your hands hovering uselessly in the air, terrified to touch him, terrified to ruin this moment. But Megumi just held you tighter, his strong arms wrapping around you like a shield against the very demons inside your own head.

"Listen to me," he murmured, his voice trembling slightly. He pulled back just enough to force you to look him in the eye. The intensity of his gaze pinned you in place."Stop acting like your existence doesn't matter, it matters to me. You don't get to decide that you're expendable."

You let out a choked gasp, your hands finally, tentatively coming to rest against his chest, gripping the fabric of his t-shirt like your life depended on it.

"I care about you, so much," Megumi continued, his voice dropping into that serious, unwavering tone he used when making vows. "I care about protecting the people who matter to me. And you… you are at the very top of that list. If you are hurt, my world stops. If you are in pain, I am in pain. Hiding your suffering from me doesn't protect me; it destroys me."

He raised a hand, his thumb gently wiping away the steady stream of tears falling from your eyes. His touch was warm, grounding.

"You are not a burden," he said, enunciating each word with fierce, desperate clarity. "And I am begging you, please… let me take care of you. Let me be the one who carries the weight for a while. You don't have to earn your place beside me by bleeding in silence. In fact, you don't have to do anything but be here."

The dam broke.

You collapsed against him, your legs finally giving out, and he caught you effortlessly, sinking to the bathroom floor with you held securely in his arms.

You wept. You wailed. It was an ugly, guttural, heart-wrenching sound that tore from the very depths of your soul. You buried your face in his chest, clutching at him desperately, crying for the pain in your side, crying for the exhaustion in your bones, crying for the terrified little child inside you who had spent their whole life terrified of being left behind.

Megumi didn't shush you. He didn't tell you to calm down. He sat on the cold tile floor amidst the blood and the discarded bandages, holding you. He rocked you slowly, one hand gently stroking your hair, the other resting firmly against your back. He let you fall apart completely, creating a safe, impenetrable fortress within his arms where you were finally allowed to be shattered, loud, and inconvenient.

Hours seemed to pass before the sobs finally subsided into heavy, exhausted hiccups. Your throat was raw, your eyes swollen and burning. The adrenaline had completely left your system, leaving you weak and painfully aware of the throbbing agony in your side.

You shifted slightly in his lap, sniffing pathetically. Megumi immediately loosened his grip, looking down at you with a softness that made your chest ache.

"Are you done?" he asked quietly, a tiny, sad smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

You nodded numbly, wiping your nose with the back of your hand. "I ruined your shirt," you rasped, noticing the dark stains of your tears and blood on the grey fabric.

"I don't care about the shirt," Megumi said softly. He gently shifted you off his lap, standing up and reaching down to help you to your feet. You swayed dangerously, the blood loss finally catching up to you. He caught you around the waist, easily supporting your weight.

"Come on," he murmured, his voice gentle but brook-no-argument firm. "We are going to Shoko. Right now."

The instinct to protest flared up instantly. It's 3 AM. She's sleeping. I can just bandage it tight. But as you looked up at Megumi, at the deep circles under his eyes and the lingering terror in his posture, the words died in your throat.

You swallowed hard, the word feeling foreign and incredibly heavy on your tongue.

"Okay."

Megumi let out a breath he seemed to have been holding for hours. He didn't say anything, but the relief in his eyes was blinding. He practically carried you down the silent, moonlit hallways to the infirmary.

Shoko was awake, smoking a cigarette out the window when Megumi kicked the infirmary door open. She took one look at Megumi’s pale face and the blood soaking your side and immediately crushed the cigarette, immediately tending to you.

The process of healing was agonizing. Shoko’s reverse cursed technique was a miracle, but extracting the foreign cursed energy from the wound before healing the flesh was a torturous sensation. You lay on the sterile white cot, your teeth gritted, a cold sweat breaking out across your forehead.

Through it all, Megumi sat beside the bed. He held your hand in both of his, his grip tight enough to bruise, grounding you in reality while the pain threatened to pull you under. He didn't look away, even when the wound looked its most gruesome. He stayed exactly where he promised he would be.

When it was finally over, and the flesh was knit cleanly together leaving only an angry pink scar, exhaustion hit you like a physical blow. Shoko handed you a clean t-shirt and kicked you both out, muttering something about needing sleep.

The walk back to Megumi’s dorm was slow. You leaned heavily against him, your body utterly drained. You felt hollowed out, incredibly fragile, like a glass blown too thin.

When you reached his room, he didn't turn on the overhead lights. He guided you gently to the bed, pulling back the heavy comforter. You crawled in automatically, immediately scooting to the absolute edge of the mattress, curling into a tight ball. It was muscle memory at this point.

Megumi stood at the edge of the bed, watching you in the dim moonlight filtering through the blinds. He sighed, a heavy, exhausted sound. He kicked off his shoes, discarded his ruined shirt, and climbed into the bed.

But he didn't lie down on his side.

Instead, he moved to the center of the mattress. He reached out, grabbing you gently by the hips, and physically dragged you away from the edge, pulling you across the sheets until you were flush against him in the very middle of the bed.

You gasped softly in surprise, stiffening. "Megumi—"

"Stop," he murmured, his voice thick with sleep. He wrapped his arms tightly around you, burying his face in your hair. He tangled his legs with yours, pinning you to him, ensuring there was no physical way for you to retreat to the cold periphery. "You are exactly where you belong. Take up the whole bed if you want. Kick me out if you want. But stop going all the way there."

You lay rigid in his arms for a long moment, your brain struggling to process the sensation of being held so securely, of being allowed to take up space without apologizing for it. The warmth of his body seeped into your cold skin. His heartbeat thudded steadily against your back, a rhythmic, grounding lullaby.

Slowly, agonizingly slowly, you forced your muscles to uncoil. You let out a long, shaky breath, letting your weight sink fully into his embrace. You closed your eyes, his scent surrounding you, pulling you down into a deep, dreamless sleep.

The next morning, you woke to the smell of brewing coffee and the sound of birds chirping outside the window. The sunlight streaming into the room felt unnervingly bright.

You sat up slowly, testing the newly healed skin on your side. It twinged slightly, a dull ache, but the agonizing burn was gone. You looked around the room. You were alone in the bed, the covers tangled around your waist. You were dead center in the mattress.

The door to the small kitchenette opened, and Megumi stepped in, carrying two mugs. He looked rested, his dark hair a chaotic mess, his eyes softer than you had seen them in months.

He walked over to the bed and handed you a mug.

"Morning," he mumbled quietly, sitting on the edge of the mattress near your feet.

"Morning," you replied softly, your voice still gravelly from crying the night before. You wrapped both hands around the warm ceramic mug, seeking comfort in the heat. You brought it to your lips, taking a tentative sip.

You immediately paused, your brow furrowing in confusion.

It wasn't black coffee. It wasn't the bitter, acidic brew he drank every morning. It was warm milk, steeped heavily with a sweet, floral chamomile tea, and generously laced with honey. It was incredibly sweet. It was exactly what you actually liked.

You lowered the mug, staring at the golden liquid, a sudden lump forming in your throat. You looked up at Megumi. He was watching you carefully, his dark eyes analyzing your reaction.

"You didn't make coffee," you whispered, stating the obvious.

Megumi looked down at his own mug, taking a sip of the black sludge he preferred. "I know you hate it," he said simply, not meeting your eyes. A faint, barely perceptible pink dusted the tips of his ears. "I noticed a while ago. You always grimace when you take the first sip. And you always buy that sweet stuff when we go to the convenience store, but you never drink it around me."

Your breath hitched. He had noticed. He had known, and he had been waiting for you to say something.

He reached out, his long fingers gently wrapping around your ankle over the blankets.

"I'm not asking you to change everything in one day," Megumi continued, his voice quiet, steady, and infinitely patient. "I know it's a habit. I know you're terrified. But I am asking you to try. With me. Just with me."

He paused, a tiny, teasing glint momentarily breaking through his stoic demeanor. "For example. I was thinking of making eggs for breakfast. But I know you like pancakes, even though you always say eggs are fine. So. What do you want for breakfast?"

It was a test. A small, seemingly insignificant question, but between the two of you, it carried the weight of the world.

The instinct rose up instantly. Eggs are easier for him to make. He likes eggs. Tell him eggs. The familiar panic fluttered in your chest, the fear of demanding too much, of being an inconvenience.

You opened your mouth, the word 'eggs' forming on your lips.

But you stopped. You looked down at the sweet, warm tea in your hands, the tea he had made specifically for you, acknowledging your preferences, honoring your comfort. You looked at the hand resting gently on your ankle, grounding you, keeping you safe. You remembered the desperate way he had held you on the bloody bathroom floor, demanding that you exist loudly.

You closed your mouth. You took a deep breath, fighting the tremor in your voice. You forced yourself to meet his gaze directly.

"I…" you started, your voice barely above a whisper. You cleared your throat, trying again. "I would really like pancakes, Megumi. If that's okay?"

The silence in the room stretched for a single, terrifying second. You braced yourself for a sigh, a roll of the eyes, a sign of annoyance that you had requested the more difficult option.

Instead, Megumi’s face broke into a smile. It wasn't his usual smirk, or a polite curve of the lips. It was a genuine, breathtakingly soft smile that reached his eyes, illuminating his features and making your heart stutter in your chest.

He stood up, taking his mug of bitter coffee with him.

"Pancakes it is," he said softly, turning back toward the kitchen. He paused at the door, looking over his shoulder at you, his eyes filled with a certain amount of serenity that was so rare for megumi.

"And [Name]?"

You looked up, your hands gripping the mug tightly. "Yeah?"

"It's more than okay."

© belchyra. All rights reserved. Do not republish, translate, steal, or feed my work to AI.

[moviecritc]

roy harper, dick grayson and you making out sloppy style ˚.✦

Your back was pressed against the wall, Roy’s hands gripping your waist like he was afraid you’d disappear, while Dick crowded in from the side, one palm sliding up your neck to tilt your head exactly how he wanted.

Roy kissed you first, messy and open-mouthed, tongue sliding against yours with zero shame. Saliva slicked your lips, a thin string of it catching when he pulled back just enough to breathe before diving in again. Dick didn’t wait his turn. He leaned over Roy’s shoulder and caught your mouth next, softer at first but quickly turning hungry, licking into you while Roy’s teeth grazed your bottom lip. Their tastes mixed together, something sweet and completely addictive. You could feel the wet heat of their mouths trading off, tongues tangling with yours in a sloppy rhythm that left your chin shiny and your head spinning.

Roy made a low sound in his throat, pressing his body flush against yours so you felt every line of him. Dick’s hand slipped under your shirt, fingers warm on your skin, while his lips moved from your mouth to the corner of Roy’s jaw, kissing him too. It turned into a three-way mess, mouths sliding together, tongues brushing in the middle, saliva dripping down your chin and probably theirs too. The sounds were obscene too, wet smacks and soft gasps filling the tiny space.

Then Roy suddenly pulled back, breathing hard, his freckled face flushed dark under the faint emergency light leaking through the door crack. His eyes looked a little wide, a little scared underneath all that heat.

“We’re still friends, right?” he asked. “I mean… this doesn’t fuck everything up?”

You and Dick both paused, lips still parted and glistening. A tiny giggle bubbled out of you first, then Dick’s followed right after, soft and just a tiny bit condescending in the sweetest way.

“Of course we are,” you said, already leaning back in, pressing a sloppy kiss to the corner of Roy’s mouth.

Dick mirrored you, nipping at Roy’s bottom lip before murmuring against it, “Duh, Roy. Best friends.” His voice had that teasing lilt, making Roy's ears red.

Roy let out a shaky breath that turned into a laugh, but before he could overthink it again, you and Dick were on him together, mouths claiming his at the same time. Tongues sliding wetly, saliva mixing in that delicious three-way tangle once more and Roy melted back into it, hands clutching at both of you like he never wanted to let go.

The kiss only got messier after that.

taglist: @darkxwolfsstuff @nalyarrr @i-gotta-go-so-much-bigger @FanficBoysAreBae @irisgrrl @lalalalastacy @bewitched-pearl @pmmemei @oliiidot @fr3shsqueezed-tj

[plumkissed]

thinking ab jock!yuji and fem!nerdy reader in a college au ᝰ.ᐟ fluff, suggestive themes, yuji's a bit of a meathead

jock!yuji who somehow, someway, always manages to be late to every lecture. he’s #2 in the state for the track and field 400 meter sprint, quite literally the fastest your college has ever seen, and yet, he still can’t manage to be on time. ironic isn’t it?

you glance at the clock. 8:30 am. it was like he had this down to a science. class started fifteen minutes ago, so any moment now—

jock!yuji who realizes he swung the door open with much more force than needed when a few people basically jump out of their skin at his entrance, and he looks back at it for a second as if he wasn’t aware of his own strength. cheeks pink and splotchy, his breaths come out in short little puffs as if he’d just got done running here.

spoiler alert: he had.

“sorry, I— I didn’t—“

“It’s fine,” stopping mid speech, your professor blinks his irritation away. “just find a seat, mr. itadori.”

“yes sir. sorry, sir.” he obliges, and then his eyes scan across the large lecture hall.

you’re now aware of the open seat next to you and you slouch down a little as if you could fuse into your own.

he climbs the stairs, one hand clasped onto the strap of his book bag that’s slung over a broad shoulder, feet skipping one step each time with ease until his sneakers stop in front of you.

“could-“ voice a little hoarse, he clears his throat. “could I sit here?”

you nod.

“bet, thanks.”

his book bag plops down first, then his body, rather unceremoniously at that, into the neighboring chair he’d pulled out for himself.

brief murmurs are spoken in the short intermission but die down once your professor clicks onto the next slide, everyone’s focus centering back onto the screen in front of them.

except yours.

your mechanical pencil strums restlessly between your thumb and pointer finger because you can feel his eyes glancing at your temple every few seconds and you’re just waiting for him to say something already.

and then he leans in, close enough to whisper, which he happens to be absolutely terrible at you might add.

“you have a pencil i could borrow?” he whisper yells.

“seriously?” you whisper back.

he looks to the side, then back at you. “uh… a pen is cool too, i guess, if that’s all you—“

“what do you even have in your backpack?” you hiss through clenched teeth.

“uhh,” he genuinely searches his bag as if your question wasn’t rhetorical. “a clif bar,” another side pocket is unzipped, and he grimaces apologetically when his eyes return to yours with a less than favorable answer. “and a highlighter... but it’s yellow.”

you roll your eyes and reach to grab your pencil case.

jock!yuji who effortlessly catches up to you in the courtyard after lecture with just a few long strides, scaring the shit out of you when he nudges your shoulder with his elbow, maybe a little too hard given how you stumble slightly.

“jesus fucking-“

“you’re a fast walker!” he notes, sounding impressed. and then, his hand outstretched in front of you to reveal the hello kitty themed writing utensil you’d given him just thirty minutes ago. “forgot to give your pencil back.”

you wave him off, “keep it.”

his brows rise, “you sure?”

a curt laugh huffs through your nostrils. “trust me, you need it more than i do. or are you gonna rough it with your yellow highlighter for the rest of the day?” you tease.

it’s boyish, crooked, and just a little bit cute the way he smiles down at you. a little bit.

“very funny.”

jock!yuji who finds you in one of the library’s quiet study rooms later that week with your head down, brows clenched, and focus unwavering as you meticulously drag a stripe of translucent blue over the capitalized header of your notes.

it takes you a few seconds to notice his big brown eyes gazing at you intensely. and when you do, all you can manage to get out is an, “um—?“

“i need you to tutor me.” he blurts, “please.”

your brow quirks suspiciously, “who told you i’m a tutor?”

his thumb juts behind him when he says, “the giant ‘tutor’ sign outside the door i just came through?”

you forgot about that. “right.”

but you swore you didn’t see his name on the list when you checked this morning, and you confirm that thought when you grab your phone and pull up your agenda for the day.

“what day did you sign up for?” you scroll through, seeing nothing but a blank page.

“huh?” his head tilts like a puppy in response to a dog whistle. “sign up?”

“yes. you have to sign up for a time slot.” he scratches his head like he doesn’t get it, so you continue with a deadpan expression. “the qr code? you know, on the giant sign you just—“

his bottom lip juts out. did he just fucking pout? oh my god he’s pouting at you.

“just sit down.”

jock!yuji who eventually uses your qr code to sign up for a tutoring slot with you every tuesday for the rest of the month so he doesn’t accidentally interrupt another of your solo study sessions, and it’s the one thing he’s actually on time for because he really needs to pass this exam.

sharpened down to its last leg now, the same hello kitty pencil is used to scribble his answer down on the loose leaf that you also provided him. it looks comically tiny between his fingers, his penmanship a little strained due to its inconvenient size. he flips the sheet to face you, pencil slamming down determinedly and eyes looking to you with anticipation.

craning your neck slightly, you click your tongue after a heavy moment of silence. “wrong.”

he scoffs. “what the fu— how?”

“you missed the second step,” his eyes squint at where your finger is on his sheet of paper. “yuji, if you miss the second step the entire equation is wrong, no matter what.”

groaning, he lets his head drops down onto his arms like bummed child. he was never good at math, let alone statistics.

you chew on your words for a beat, but curiosity gets the best of you so you ask anyway, arms crossing over your chest.

“why are you always late?” after a brief pause, you tack on, “—to lecture, i mean.”

a sheepish, quiet chuckle leaves him when he sits up and rubs the back of his head. it lacks the humor it should have, like he’s ashamed to talk about it.

“track. i have team lifts every morning,” he fiddles with your his pencil. “and i would’ve chosen another day to take the class but there was only one option, so,” his hands gesture to the air to complete his sentence.

“so track is more important than passing this class?” it comes out sounding harsher than you intended.

“uh, nah, it’s kinda complicated.” his jaw tenses, and it’s like you can see into him for just a moment. “i have a scholarship through track. it was just me and my grandpa for a while before he passed, so… that’s how i pay for school.”

guilt instantly drenches you, lips opening and closing like a fish out of water before you finish his explanation for him. “and in order to stay on the team, and keep your scholarship… you need to pass this class.”

his hands are flat and pressed together for emphasis. “really need to pass this class.”

he sees your eyes soften and waves you off immediately, he doesn’t want you feeling bad for him, it’s not your fault.

“i-i shouldn’t have assumed, i’m sorry.”

“don’t sweat it.”

jock!yuji who’s starting to impress you by his fourth tutoring session. he even has his own pencil and notebook now!

but now that his understanding is starting to pick up, he can’t stop his mind from wandering away from what you’re explaining to him on your laptop’s screen. he thinks about how put together you seem, how smart you clearly are. how you intentionally save a seat for him next to you in the lecture hall using your backpack now, with zero judgment and only understanding because you know he’s on his way. how your brows push together and make that cute little line between them when you’re double checking his work.

you glance up to ask if he comprehended what you just said to him, just to see his eyes on you instead of the very detailed tutorial you’d put together and recorded for him last night.

the tips of his ears run red and he’s brought back to reality, and your chest tightens with the intrusive feelings you’ve been trying to ignore when he blabs,

“what?”

your brows have that cute little line he was just thinking about between them right now.

“did you hear anything i just said?”

“yes.” he answers confidently. blindly.

“repeat it.” you demand.

his lips make way for words that never come, then they close.

your head dips to the side a little when you sigh, “yuji.”

jock!yuji who’s stomach flips when you say his name like that and he doesn’t know why. maybe it’s how you’re looking up at him through your lashes expectantly, like you want him to listen because you know he’s capable of getting this. like you believe in him.

swallowing hard, he sits up straighter, “sorry,” then runs his sweaty palms run over his jeans, thighs tensed. why are his hands so sweaty?

“i’m listening.”

jock!yuji who parades into the library like he just won the lottery, slinking into your study room cooly without pushing the cracked door open any further. all five fingers slap a stapled packet down over the notes you were reading. he has the most shit eating grin on his face.

“yuji—“

“read that,” he points to the top right corner, taps on it. “tell me what that says.”

so you do, eyes flying back up to see him so loaded with excitement that you find out he has a dimple.

“you passed!”

“b-minus,” his hands shoot up like he just won the super bowl, voice booming, “i fuckin passed, baby!”

a few very agitated students glare at him so you shush him and grab his wrist, yanking him to sit down with you. you try your best to stifle your laugh and ignore the sensation that blooms deep in your gut at what he called you, even if he didn’t mean it like that.

jock!yuji who is utterly shocked when he offers to treat you to lunch and you actually say yes (he was going to resort to begging if you said no). granted, he did phrase it as being a form of compensation for helping him pass the exam, since you volunteer as a tutor in the library for free and all.

he knows he was a pain in the ass to teach so he insisted, also because he couldn’t find the balls to ask you out without a reason beneath it as a safety net. what he didn’t know, is that you would’ve said yes regardless of his declaration of ‘owing you one’.

all his nerves wash away and replace with a small bout of confidence when you simply ask. “when?”

though they’re quick in their return, hitting him like a freight train the very next day as you stand at your front door where he’s picking you up from, beautiful as ever with a smile he selfishly wants to keep for some reason. but he won’t get ahead of himself, it’s only lunch, nothing more.

jock!yuji who is so much more than what you expected that you curse your past self for judging him before you really got to know him. he’s ridiculously funny, incredibly kind and insanely attractive. and while you’ve always known that last part, actually getting to know him made it all the more apparent.

he laughs at every joke you make, a real belly laugh, the kind that’s not the slightest bit polite and makes you laugh too just by hearing it. and he listens to you with his entire body as you talk about something he truly has no reason to care about, chin in hand, eyes peeled and face emotive.

but you won’t get ahead of yourself, and you’ll repeat it in your head until it’s what you believe. that as he places his card down on the bill and scribbles what’s supposed to be his name in cursive under the tip portion, that this is only lunch and nothing more. a kind gesture.

until the two of you are back in his dorm room and jock!yuji, who is beet faced and kiss drunk genuinely thinks he might pass out from how fast his heart is drumming against his ribcage when you break away from him to breathe, a string of shared saliva connecting you both. breathing is overrated, he thinks, flushed lips chasing after yours like they’re two halves of a whole that shouldn’t be separated, his body pressing into you with a hunger that makes your stomach churn. and you duck your head down to his tensed jaw instead, mind feeling hazy because his cologne smells so good it’s making you dizzy.

large hands squeeze your denim clad hips as you’re perched in his lap and if you shift them forward one more time he might lose his composure, but he still can’t stop himself from helping you rock down into him and he doesn’t think he wants to. the sensation of your heated gasp tickles against his skin, makes his adams apple bob dangerously in his throat and he’s really trying to be gentleman but you aren’t making this easy for him.

your lips are so much softer, so much better than he imagined and his tongue darts out to lick at his own, tasting the faint hint of strawberry you’ve left on them. you don’t know how many nights he’s spent wondering what your chapstick would taste like.

he relishes in the feeling of you nibbling at his skin, maybe a little too much, he realizes, when a strangled mewl claws its way from his throat and makes you pull away to look at him with adorable concern.

“should i get off?”

jock!yuji who’d do anything to keep you right here— who’s so quick to shake his head that you can’t help the giggle that escapes you and he can’t help but feel a little embarrassed for being so eager.

“please don’t.”

.

.

.

©plumkissed 2026

note: weee first post

[gumsbear]

—𓏲𑁘 𝓶odulo!yuji gagging you on his cockིྀ

yuji, was sprawled out on your shared bed. his legs spread wide. along with you in between them, the room filled with loud obscene sounds, his cock hitting the back of your throat. with each buck of his hips.

"justtt like that, baby..." yuji, says between a strangled moan. your eyes are starting to water, taking practically all of his length down your throat, you swore his tip was kissing deep in the back of your throat. that's what it felt like at least, yuji was relentless. hips bucking desperately, chasing his release like oxygen.

you try to move your head. just the slightest, but that resorted into your head getting held down, by his palm. "no, you're going to listen to me, alright?" he pants out, yuji pushes his cock deeper into your mouth, your throat immediately constricts around his shaft, invitingly.

god, just the simple way the warmth of your mouth feels around his girth. drives him insane.

your face his buried, in between his thighs, tongue licking all over his girth, desperately taking his length into your throat, you feel his precum pool all over your tongue. a low muffled "mmph." was the only sound. that could escape your mouth, around his cock.

yuji's hand rises down, to land a slap across your cheek, causing you to moan around his girth. you felt your eyes roll into the back of your head, "fuck... baby, you like that?"

you almost felt shame, because of the tone of his voice. it was degrading, he sounded disgusted in a way, like he was in disbelief. but that's the thing that turned you on most. the most you could manage was a simple nod. you pull back from his cock, your lips covered in his precum, saliva dripping down onto your chin, "you're so pathetic." he brings a hand down to where he slapped your reddened cheek, caressing the soft skin slowly.

"you like being slapped? huh?" it wasn't a question, it was a statement. because yuji, already knew the answer, "i never told you to stop sucking." he pushes your head back down roughly. before you could reply, causing you to, instantly gag onto his length again.

your throat, greedily takes him in. your hands stroking at the base of what can't fit into your mouth, yuji's hand grips your head down, preventing you from pulling back. hips bucking roughly. into the wet warmth.

"i'm close... you'll swallow it all." he wasn't asking, yuji was telling you, you nod immediately. bobbing your head faster. not caring if you choke anymore. his hand roughly guides your head, tugging onto your hair, "fuck... fuck... fuck..." yuji's head tips back against the headboard. you can feel the throb in his cock, precum leaking onto you tongue. you greedily swallow preparing your throat, for his cum.

"agh... fuck, don't stop." yuji cums with a loud groan, holding your head in place, impaling your face deeper into his cock, warm spurts land onto your tongue. coating your tongue semi white, he lifts his head up for a moment, before his eyes land onto you.

"you okay pretty?" he pants out, coming down from his high slowly, you nod. before pulling back. saliva dripping down ont his shaft, you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, "that... was a lot." he slaps your cheek again at that, "would you rather me spit on you?" yuji questioned slowly, "ugh. try it." a low chuckle escaped his lips, "next time. i don't want you passing out on me now, sweets."

"maybe, next time you should let me pass out on it."

authors note: ugh sorry if this is bad, i literally had to write this in a rush for myself no lie, i was desperate after seeing that animated.

[rubyys-domain]

Nghhh

[moviecritc]

YUUJI ITADORI appeared in your apartment after a half an hour trip to the convenient store down the street. you had send him to get you some pads for your period, you were too moody to go yourself and he volunteered cheerfully, probably feeling like the best boyfriend in the world.

when he left your keys and his shoes in the hall, he appeared in the living room, watching you for a moment as you curled into a blanket with his hoodie on. he smiled to himself before showing to you two bags full of who-knows-what.

"i didn't know how big your pussy is, so i got you one of everything." he smiled proudly.

you stared at him, blinking once. twice. “yuuji… what?”

he stood there, grin wide and stupidly sincere. the grocery bags rustled with the sound of far too many brands of pads, tampons, and probably many types of snacks.

“you know,” he continued, completely unbothered by the silence, “like, I didn’t know what size to get, so I just… covered my bases. I even got the ones with wings. for, uh, aerodynamics.”

you pressed your face into the blanket to hide the laugh bubbling up. “aerodynamics? what, are they supposed to help me glide through my cramps?”

he nodded gravely, then sat beside you, clearly proud of his own genius. “exactly. also, I got you chocolate. and heat patches. and, uh this tiny stuffed bear because it looked sad and I thought you’d like him.”

you finally peeked up at him, your heart softening against your will. “you’re an idiot,” you muttered, taking the bear from the bag.

“your idiot,” he said immediately, leaning in to kiss your forehead.

you sighed dramatically, but you were smiling. “uh huh. my hero of feminine hygiene.”

he doesn't break eye contact, holding your hand as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. he can be so stupidly handsome some times, just looking at you like you hanged his favorite starts. and the worst part is that you look at him the same way, there’s something impossibly endearing about a guy who thinks "one of everything" is the most romantic gesture in the world.

yuuji finally dropped into the couch, pulling you with him so your back fit perfectly against his chest. his arms looped around your waist, palms resting just under your ribs, radiating warmth.

he must’ve known exactly where your cramps hit because his thumbs started tracing slow, aimless circles against your stomach so gentle it felt like your body was melting into his.

the weight of him behind you was grounding. every breath he took lifted you slightly, a steady rhythm that your own breathing eventually fell into. the world outside your blanket cocoon didn’t exist anymore, just the faint rustle of his hoodie against your skin and the quiet comfort of being held.

after a while, his head tilted down. you felt the brush of his nose against your hair, the softest inhale. you blinked, turning a little toward him.

“did you just smell my hair?” you asked, voice suspicious.

there was a pause. then his voice, sheepish but completely unashamed: “yeah.”

you twisted just enough to see his grin. “weirdo.”

he chuckled, tightening his arms around you. “it smells nice. like you and my hoodie had a baby.”

you groaned, but you couldn’t fight the small smile creeping across your face. “that’s the weirdest compliment I’ve ever gotten.”

“then I’m doing my job right,” he said softly, pressing his face into your shoulder.

His breath was warm against your neck, his heartbeat steady against your back. Every once in a while, he’d mumble something barely audible. nonsense, really, like “so comfy” or “you’re warm” and each time, it made you sink a little deeper into him.

[classygumi]

jason todd has a habit.

several, actually.

a few centered around his family—he always sits or stands to the left of dick, always makes cass her plate, always brings dessert to gatherings because nobody can do it as well as he can.

a few about his work—he always starts on the south end of gotham and works toward the north, always cleans his guns an hour before patrol, always puts his right boot on before his left one.

then, he has several for you.

he always flicks your sky projector on fifteen minutes before you’re done getting ready for bed, he always lets you take a bite of food first before picking his fork up, he always lets you read the prologue of a book he’s considering purchasing.

but your personal favorite?

jason always lets you kiss him first.

he’ll lower his face to yours, keeping the space between the two of you until you lift your lips to slot against his. whenever he wants affection, he’ll draw closer, look at you with those utterly compelling eyes of his, and wait.

he waits until you respond—whether it be reciprocating his energy or not.

he doesn’t take from you. he loves whatever you give him, even if it’s merely eye contact.

even then, he’ll graciously accept it because it’s from you.

jason has a habit of waiting for you to kiss him first, not because he’s nervous or shy.

he waits because he knows what it’s like to have things taken, and he always wants you to have a choice.

[katsuiki]

୨୧  THINKING ABOUT　💭 　៸៸ 　 modulo yuuji as your boyfriend . . .

୨୧  ៸៸ boyfriend yuuji is very physical without even realizing it. a hand on your lower back whenever he walks by, fingers brushing yours before holding your hand, as if testing the waters.

୨୧  ៸៸ boyfriend yuuji will bite you. not hard, not out of anger, just purley out of affection. random, soft little nips, usually when you’re teasing him or getting a little too cute for his sake... same energy as pulling you closer or hiding his face in your neck! he just needs to do something with all that loving he has for you.

if you complain, yuuji will just laugh and and say it was just a “baby bite”. but when you start frowning he immediately caves, thumb rubbing over the faint teeth marks, soft little apology murmured against your skin, pressing a quick kiss, batting his eyelashes up at you to earn your forgiveness.

୨୧  ៸៸ boyfriend yuuji apologizes all the time. soft, repeated “sorry”s into your shoulder. mostly for things that aren’t even his fault… things you don’t fully understand, but comfort him nontheless.

୨୧  ៸៸ boyfriend yuuji doesn't sleep very well, or very often. waking up in the middle of the night from vivid dreams of the past . . . but he relaxes everytime he wakes up to you by his side.

୨୧  ៸៸ boyfriend yuuji whose a retired puppy at heart. he’s still soft at his core, just… a bit slower now. he gets weirdly proud over small achievements: 　“i fixed it!”　“told you i could make it better!” 　and he looks at you like he’s waiting for that soft praise.

on top of that, yuuji isn’t fond of loud environments anymore. though he now refers quiet places, late night walks, soft music in the background . . . the small things that ease the soul.

୨୧  ៸៸ boyfriend yuuji will get random bursts of energy out of nowhere. you could be eased up on the couch, and suddenly he’s trying to wrestle you or pulling you off. 　“c’mon, get up.” 　“for what yuyu???”　 “i dunno yet!”

yuuji also loves to pick you up randomly , showing off his strength — simply laughing his ass off as you beg him to put you back down.

୨୧  ៸៸ boyfriend yuuji whose still yuuji . . . just more yuuji than ever.

‎ ‎‎© KATSUIKI ‎

[aquasprings]

because puppyboy yuji was so highly requested…

puppyboy!yuji who’s crushing on you??

the comment just slips out of nobara’s mouth like it’s nothing. “honestly, he’s like a dog.”

you blink. “who?”

she levels you with a bland look. “who do you think?”

she nods her head to yuji, who’s walking past with megumi. he’s all smiles and as if summoned by the universe itself, he looks up, eyes landing on you. his smile softens, he waves.

your heart does an embarrassing little somersault.

nobara leans in. “exhibit a.”

“i don’t see it,” you say weakly.

“if he had a tail, it’d be wagging right now. he likes you.”

“…no, he doesn’t,” you mumble unconvincingly.

“please. he’ll start bringing you sticks if you asked.”

you feel heat creep up your neck. “you’re exaggerating.”

nobara snorts. “am i? call him a good boy, see what happens.”

“i am not doing that,” you choke.

she just hums, already bored with your resistance. “suit yourself. you’re missing out on prime entertainment.”

so, naturally, later, when you and yuji are asked to pick up supplies from storage (extra training mats? you weren’t quite sure), nobara’s words linger in the back of your mind.

he grabs the boxes without complaint, and reaches over to add the ones you had in your arms to his pile.

“i got those,” he says, easy and bright.

“yuji, you’re already carrying like—five.”

he grins. “six isn’t that different.”

your chest does that stupid flip again, and: “thanks,” you say softly. “you’re such a good boy.”

silence.

yuji freezes mid-step, and you immediately regret everything.

“i didn’t mean—i mean, i did mean it, but not like—i just—” you start rambling, heat flooding your face.

he turns to look at you, and oh.

if nobara had been exaggerating before, she isn’t now.

his ears are bright red, eyes wide, and his smile, that usual easy grin of his, has gone all shy around the edges.

“i—what—” he stammers, voice cracking. “wha—did you just….”

you briefly consider faking your own death. “i just meant—”

his expression softens, deepens, turns warm and a little dazed. “say it again,” he blurts.

you blink. “what?”

“th-that,” he says, flustered. “what you just said.”

your pulse is loud in your ears. “…good boy?”

if possible, he gets even redder.

“man,” he laughs nervously, ducking his head. “that—uh—felt really nice.”

your heart melts, reduced to a puddle on the floor.

“it wasn’t, like…weird?”

“no!” he blurts immediately. “i, uh—you can say it again. only if you want to! just—yeah.”

he looks at you with those soft brown eyes, that gentle smile.

nobara was right.

you smile despite it. “c’mon, good boy. let’s drop these off.”

you don’t miss the way his entire face lights up this time “right!” he says, grinning. “i got it!”

yeah. if he had a tail, it’d be knocking things over.

[aquasprings]

puppyboy yuji??? say no more

it’s no secret that your boyfriend, yuji, is obsessed with you.

everyone knows.

your friends are more then aware. nobara can’t get through telling you a single story without yuji ending up behind you, resting his chin on your shoulder, nodding along with whatever you’re saying. megumi has a homework question? yuji’s inserting himself into the conversation, latching onto your waist.

“you’re so smart, baby,” he tells you, a huge, happy grin on his face. “always helping everyone.”

megumi just stares at him.

when you laugh softly, patting yuji’s arm, he squeezes you tighter. this typically makes nobara gag.

it doesn’t stop there.

if you’re sitting, he’s next to you. if there’s no space next to you, he makes space. if you’re standing, his hand is in yours, always.

he’s warm. clingy, and affectionate in a way that’s so constant it becomes second nature.

yuji also loves touching you.

it’s constant. your hands clasped together. he likes when you loop his arm through his. your fingers in his hair.

god, he loves when you play with his hair.

the second your hand drifts up he’s melting, shoulders dropping, eyes softening. he sighs happily and lands in your lap, curling into you as you lace your gentle fingers through it.

“mmm, don’t stop,” he mumbles, voice already going soft.

it’s worse when you leave him alone for a few hours.

when you get back to your apartment you’re not surprised to find he’s already let himself in. you barely make it through the front door before he’s wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into his chest with a content exhale.

“i missssed you,” he mumbles into your neck.

“yuji, i was gone for two hours,” you laugh.

“yeah,” he says like you proved his point. “two hours too long.”

it’s also in the way he looks at you.

always soft. always bright, like you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him and he’s still a little shocked about it.

you catch him staring sometimes. you’ll be mid-conversation. mid-laugh. mid-anything, actually.

“what?” you’ll ask him.

“…nothing.”

“you’re staring.”

“yeah,” he admits easily. he smiles. “i like looking at you.”

your face heats instantly. “yuji—”

“whaaat?” he grins wider, grabbing onto you again. “you’re pretty,” he says matter-of-factly, and you cover your face.

or : “he’s too clingy,” nobara comments, watching yuji jog over to you after classes. “like a puppy.”

“he’s adorable,” you say softly, giggling as yuji crash lands into you, enveloping you in a tight hug.

“hi, baby,” he’ll say, kissing your forehead, then your cheek, then your lips softly. “you know i like you, right?”

you snort. “i would hope so.”

“no, like..i really like you.”

your chest warms. “i know, yuji.” you run your fingers through his hair in that way he likes. “you’re so good to me,” you mumble into his hair. “the sweetest boy ever.”

he smiles into your neck at the praise, arms tightening around you, happily. this is where he wants to be.

this typically also makes nobara gag.

[gojosconsort]

︵ ೀ mdni. yuji has too much stamina

yuji’s stamina is kinda unfair.

you’re already boneless on the mattress, chest heaving, thighs trembling from the third—maybe fourth?—round tonight. sweat sticks your hair to your forehead; every muscle feels like warm liquid. you can barely keep your eyes open, let alone lift your hips to meet him anymore.

but yuji’s still going.

his pink hair is damp, sticking up in wild strands. those big brown eyes are wide and bright, cheeks flushed, lips parted around soft pants like he’s just getting started. he’s braced over you, strong arms caging you in, cock still hard and thick inside where you’re swollen and sensitive.

“baby,” he breathes, voice all honey and concern even as his hips roll slow, deep. “you okay? need me to stop?”

you whimper. it’s too much—too full, too deep, every drag lighting up oversensitive nerves. your hands push weakly at his chest.

“yuji… i can’t… i’m done…”

he freezes instantly. brows knit. lower lip juts out in that heartbreaking little pout that always undoes you.

“really? but you feel so good… and you’re so pretty when you come for me…”

he leans down, nuzzling your neck, pressing tiny kisses along your jaw. one hand slips between you to circle your clit so gently it’s almost ticklish. his voice drops to that soft, pleading whisper he knows you can’t resist.

“just one more? please? i’ll be so careful… promise i’ll make it good…”

your resolve crumbles. he’s too earnest, too sweet, too fucking adorable with those flushed cheeks and hopeful eyes. you sigh, wrap shaky arms around his neck.

“okay… one more.”

his whole face lights up like you just handed him the moon.

“thank you, baby!”

he kisses you deep, slow, then starts moving again—careful now, measured, grinding just right while his thumb keeps petting your clit in lazy circles. you’re exhausted. wrecked. but when he groans your name like it’s a prayer and spills inside you for the last time, trembling and whispering how much he loves you…

you know you’ll give in every single time.

[ryoride]

ꮼ unsurprisingly, itadori is one romantic boyfriend

ᦸ fluffy little boyfriend!itadori hcs ⸝⸝ art : hinamie

boyfriend!itadori is a very affectionate man; he likes to hold hands, hug, share chaste kisses, cuddle & hold one or both of your thighs over his while sitting together—the pure intimacy of the touches feels so right.

boyfriend!itadori lets his girlfriend toy with his muscles whenever she wants, rubbing & over his back muscles and tracing shapes on his abs—his favorite, though, is when you want to mess with his biceps, whether you're nipping on them, kissing them, or napping on them.

boyfriend!itadori gets so happy whenever you wear something of his; it could be his sweats, PJs, a hoodie, a stolen shirt, literally anything, and he just finds it so adorable seeing the fabric swallow you up.

boyfriend!itadori is very eager to be a canvas for you, lying flat on his stomach to let you sketch out whatever your heart desires on his flesh. He's always quick to take photos to immortalize your work & show his friends what it looked like before fading.

boyfriend!itadori adores late nights when you're staying up just to talk each other's ears off—he could be gaming, cleaning, working out, or lying next to you, & no matter what, he's happily sitting there as you yap.

boyfriend!itadori has kept one flower from each bouquet he's given you, pressing each of them & slowly framing them together so you can keep a roadmap of your relationship; each frame holds a special time period for both of you.

boyfriend!itadori loves being your boyfriend; it awakened something in him that he never wants to sleep again.

[yaoyaobae]

bath time

[yaoyaobae]

Do you trust me?

[theghostofcoldramen]

Guys hear me out on this ship nowww

[gr0und-zer00]

Rest those legs...

⋆˚꩜｡ Bruce Wayne x reader (fluff!!)

While hosting a gala and wearing the most torturous heels, Bruce takes you away and offers to pamper you away from the guests.

CW: feet lol, some swear words, possibly OOC Bruce, Not proof read but I'm pretty sure I wrote a female presenting reader

I wrote this after killing my feet attending a wedding and wearing high ass heels + the lioness doesn't concern herself with architectural accuracy in comics

WC: 1.1k

“Sweetheart, really, it’s ok.” You huff quietly, trying to walk across the Wayne Manor ballroom in your heels, firmly gripping your husband's forearm for the balance it provides.

You should have listened to Bruce. Oh you SO should have listened when he told you to opt for the comfortable shoes. They weren’t as pretty, sure, but holy fuck it would have been so much better than wearing these tall shoes from whatever obscure Italian brand Bruce splurged to buy for you.

A sigh escaped your husband’s lips as he tried to help you collect yourself on wobbly knees, maybe you were a clumsy fawn in your past life, at least that what he thinks to himself as he shifts his arm to rest hook around your waist. His hand felt big and warm on your torso as he then pulled you along, to a point where you could barely complete your steps, Bruce doing 90% of the work walking himself and you. Meanwhile that remaining 10% came from you allowing your toes to touch the ground.

Conjoined by the closeness, you both pause at the large door to one of Bruce’s adoptive sons in attendance. He leans forward to whisper something in their ear before he proceeds, tugging you along with him.

“Honey, where are we going?” You ask.

“Library.”

You quirk a brow, “How come, B?” you once again interrogate, leaning forward slightly to meet his gaze.

“Much needed break, darling.”

You couldn’t even feel like questioning it, you just allowed him to drag you down the familiar halls. Bruce’s sympathy grew with every click of your heel, now identifiable with the ruckus of the Wayne manor ballroom being hushed—still there, but hushed—and taking advantage with the hollow halls save for the two of you, he scoops you in his arms. Caught off guard, you cackle with a surge of giddiness while Bruce's arms support your back and the other in the crooks of your knees. 

It’s as though your giggles are contagious as he also laughs, stepping swiftly towards the big doors. He halts in front of the dark, neatly carved slab of wood as an entrance to the library; I may have been a liar, this library is his private study, but with the size of it (and the fact that there’s certainly over 1000 books in there scaling the dark shelves), it can be classified as a library. Nudging the door knob with the point of his elbow, and with minimal jostling to your sacred figure, he pushed the door open by the broad shoulder, setting you on your feet.

“You can go sit down, honey.” he offers in a hushed tone, though ‘offer’ is generous, he just needs you to sit down, and you know this. 

“Be more specific.”

“...please sit down.”

With a light snicker, you endure a few burning steps to the cushy arm chair,  “atta boy” you tease him. Sinking into the cushion, you could have moaned right there, maybe orgasmed too as you allowed yourself to be engulfed in comfort.

Bruce wanders over with an affectionate, quiet grin, and when he’s close enough he sits on the ottoman, defeating its purpose as a foot rest as he reaches, wrapping a solid hand around your ankle to rest on his lap, the point of the heels effortlessly digging into his thigh as they rest upon it.

“These are far too high up, dear.” He caringly admonishes you

“Yeah, yeah..” you dismiss, simply wanting to forget about the pain stabbing through your foot. 

Bruce removes the heels, uncovering your mildly swollen feet. Each of your pinky toes and the outer sides of your feet were flushed in shade and the back was blistering. You even felt your lower back starting to ache from the long use. You tried to inch the pair away from Bruce but he wrapped a hand around your ankle, “It’s been how many years of marriage, yet you’re embarrassed about me seeing you heel-abused foot, sweetheart?” he chuckles playfully, hiking one closer to him and to your surprise, he massages it.

Pressing his thumbs in, he kneads against the point of the arch, exercising tender pulses into the flesh and his tongue even stuck out in comical concentration. This was the moment you truly melted, how the hell did he know where to massage and where to avoid, “Jeez, so you really aren’t just a handsome face.” you playfully remark, eyes falling shut in the bliss of the pampering.

“You don’t become one of the best vigilantes, being nothing more than a pretty face.”

“Nay, the only best vigilante!” you proclaim with entertained boldness.

“Now now, no matter how true that is, don’t tell Dick.”

You can’t help a tinkling laugh escape you within the room. This is rare behaviour from the both of you, especially as you’re both graced in this attire; you in the discarded pointed heels and classy garments and jewels, then Bruce in his meticulously chosen, suave suit.

It feels like months since you have both teased and joked with each other in such a way, you just wanted to plant a thousand kisses all over his sharp features—what you didn’t know was that he was happy to return the favor, looking down after the joke to focus on the meticulous pampering, and still maintaining a toothy, happy smile.

But then you lean your head back and pout, and Bruce’s observant eye catches sight of the slight protrusion of your lip. He’s silent but you know he’s raising a brow at the childish display and so you explain, “I don’t wanna go back down to the ballroom,” you sigh, now turning the tilted back head to the side, and smushed against the head rest of the chair Bruce sat in countless times for whatever reason, you could even sniff him on the fabric, past the elaborate fragrances you had selected for the evening.

At your complaint, Bruce shrugged, moving to your next foot, falling back into the routine of randomised twists and pushes, pulls, pets and so on, “Then we don’t have to go back.”

“Hm?” you’re surprised by his casualness of it, lifting your head and gazing down at him curiously while his blue eyes meet yours. “We don’t have to return, I’ll tell Tim to take care of matters and simply inform the guests that we have urgent matters to attend to…we just don’t have to tell them that the urgent matters are making sure you were taken care of from the torture devices that were those heels.”

“Hey, you were the one who brought those for me!”

“Yes, after you kept hinting at wanting them every time you saw them.”

You pressed the your free appendage to his chest in joking protest, shoving him lightly, allowing him to withdraw the lower limb from his chest and press a kiss to your ankle, then letting it drop so he can return to massaging the other aching heel victim. 

Seriously, tonight felt like a ticking time bomb to the two of you throughout the day as you both feared the arrival of the event. Maybe you have to be thankful for the gala and those shitty heels for bringing you and Bruce together for one quiet moment…

dividers by @cursed-carmine

I tried to be more detailed :D