TiredPhantom

a pharmsci major's silly thoughts (19)

[juliennevalery]

Thinking bout Simon's truck being so big he has to lift you up by the waist to get you inside every time. The thing is, you can't even reach the fucking handle, so you don't bother trying to get in anymore after failing miserably a couple of times. His Ford's just impossible to get into gracefully.

So, you simply wait by the door, standing there pretty and patient until he's towering behind you, and you feel the warmth of his tattooed arms effortlessly scooping you up to sit your ass on the seat.

It's actually funny because you're perfectly capable of getting in yourself, but over time you started doing it on purpose. He'd never tell you that, but he knows it too. The way your face lights up every damn time you wait for him gives you away immediately. Still, he'd never dare ruin your little game.

"Si, come pick me up, please?"

You stood in front of the monster he drove until you heard the door to your house click shut and his heavy boots against the driveway.

You didn't even bother to turn around. The low, amused huff that left Simon told you everything you needed to know.

The car unlocked with a click.

"Y'know," he drawled, coming to a stop behind you, "for someone who runs their mouth as much as you do, you're awful helpless, love."

A grin tugged at your lips as you felt his hands settle on your hips, giving them a light squeeze.

"Mhm."

He snorted.

"Such a fuckin' brat."

One second your feet were planted firmly on the ground; the next, they were kicking in the air as he hauled you up against his warm chest. A squeal escaped you before you could stop it.

"Simon!" You grabbed onto his forearms.

"What?" His voice was full of that stupid satisfaction he got whenever he managed to get a reaction out of you. "Thought you wanted me to help." He murmured close to your ear, sending shivers through your body.

You loved how easy he made it look and hated how your stomach flipped every time.

But fuck, what you loved most was being manhandled by him.

By the time he set you down on the passenger seat, your face was all warm.

His hand lingered on your thigh for a second longer before he stepped back.

You narrowed your eyes. Simon looked entirely too pleased with himself.

"Creep."

"Got in the truck, didn't ya?"

You pouted.

"Buckle your seatbelt!" Simon barked out a laugh and shut the door.

"You fuckin' buckle my ass," you huffed under your breath.

The driver's side door opened.

"Did ya say something?"

"Love you, Si!"

[gnarpmster42069]

MHA MEN DRABBLES

Shouta Aizawa

CW: Masturbation, Praise, Overstimulation

It’d been a long few weeks for you. Shouta had was never home with you anymore. He was always either rounding up Class 1A or out on his nightly patrols. He was never in bed with you anymore. And while you respected and admired his dedication to each profession, you couldn’t help but miss him sometimes.

You missed the mornings where you’d wake up with his arms wrapped around you, the moments where you two would nap together, the moments where he’d fuck you into your mattress. In fact, you missed these moments so much that it pent up into your predicament now.

You lay in bed with your head tilted back into the pillows. Sweated beaded across your forehead while your fingers pushed in and out your walls. You’d never been able to get too far like this and you’d never purchased any sex toys because frankly, you had your own personal one in your day to day life. But he wasn’t there right now.

Frustrated whines leave your mouth as you pout your lips out. It’d been an hour since you initially started and you still hadn’t came. It was starting to mess with you. Each time you got close, your body shifted and lost the spot you needed to hit. This time felt different though, your body was feeling hot again. That desire rising in your veins as you continued.

You could feel yourself clamping down quickly. You could finally get rid of this ache..until you moved again.

“Damn it!” You frustratingly huff to yourself. Just when you were about to give up and maybe retire for the night. A familiar voice.

“Need help?” Shouta raises an eyebrow as he leaned against the doorframe. Tired eyes beaming down at you with a hunger you couldn’t quite describe. He was still dressed in his hero outfit.

“How long have you been standing there?!” You finally looked and attempted to cover up. It wasn’t like you were naked. You had his shirt on and some panties but just the thought of him seeing you made your face hot.

“I asked you a question.” Shouta rolled his eyes and remained leaned against the doorframe.

Silence filled the room.

“Yeah..” you muttered out and looked away.

And that’s how you ended up here. It’d been at least 2 hours since he’d come home and tended to you. “Please..” a hand trailed to his chest to feebly push him back. It hadn’t worked. All he did was grab your hand and kiss your palm.

“Look at my pretty girl.” His other hand nuzzling your cheek as if he wasn’t pounding harshly into you. “You can give me one more can’t you?” You couldn’t. There’s no way. your body was spent. Shouta grabs a hold on your hips and holds them down.

“One more.” He leaned down to kiss your lips. It was sloppy and unorganized. Not at all like is usually stoic self. “For me?”

Keigo Takami

CW: Semi-Public, Making out (kinda), getting freaky on the job

This had to be the most inappropriate you’d ever been. Normally, you wouldn’t even think about doing something like this. But it was something about the way he was so passionate in saving people.

You were a detective working closely under Tsukauchi trying to catch the league of villains and Hawks, or who you personally call Keigo, had joined in as well as many other heroes. But you weren’t pinned on an interrogation room table by just any hero were you?

No, it was the number two hero that used one hand to hold your hips to the table. His tongue tangling with yours as a way of muffling your moans. “Tsukauchi will be back quickly.” He pulled away and trailed his kisses down to your jawline. “We’ve gotta make this quick.” While he peppered kisses at your neck, his hands trailed to your inner thigh.

Thankfully, your skirt made it a lot easier to maneuver around. “Keigo..” you mewled out to him attempting to close your legs. Seeing this, he bite at your neck. “Hold still.” His hand rubbed at your clit slowly before picking up the pace. “I wanted to go slowly but, I can already hear him down the hallway.” He started. Keigo pulls your panties to the side and teases your clit.

“Keep quiet, yeah?”

Izuku Midoriya

CW: Fingering, semi-public, you get walked in on but not caught

“Shh we’re gonna get caught..”

Usually, Izuku would have more control, he’s a hero and teacher after all. He’s a model for all of his students and interns to look up to for guidance. So then why, why was Izuku Midoriya currently bending you over his desk right now?

But here he was, his hands smoothly pulling your pencil skirt up to expose your stocking-clad flesh. Rough, scarred, fingertips gliding over the mesh fabric. Pressing his chest against your arched back and gently grinding his straining bulge against your ass, sweet nothings falling from his lips.

With the way he was handling you, you’d almost believe this was a pure, innocent, loving moment. Certainly not Izuku preparing to take you drinking his planning period, a lousy broken lock UA kept forgetting to replace and “keep out” sign stopping anyone from becoming an unwilling voyeur.

He gently grasps your chin, pressing a loving kiss to your lips. His unoccupied hand trailing lower and lower until…

RIIIIIIIIP…

Suddenly, your bottom half feels breezy. The newly-made hole in your stockings allowing a gust of cold air to blow against your soaked slit. A single one of his warm fingers running down the now cool damp patch. A shudder running up your spine as he presses down, seeming to touch everything but your sensitive bud.

He continues like that, his single finger teasing your folds over your underwear. Pressing them against your lips, the thin garment doing nothing to hide the shape of them. Then finally he swipes the pad of his finger against your clit, a jolt of pleasure shooting through your body. He chuckles at this, watching you try to hold whimpers and small moans from escaping your lips; lest you get caught by a passerby.

He continues to rub you through your underwear, a second finger joining the original, rubbing with more urgency. As you approach your peak you start to get louder, your moans more desperate and whiney. Just as you’re about to fall over the edge Izuku stops, pulling your skirt down over your ripped and soaked stockings. A minute after a student of his steps into the classroom, a concerned look on his face, he asks about strange noises; wondering if someone was hurt.

Izuku’s face is calm as he reassures the student that it was “just training down the hall” all the while rubbing a hand over your hip, smoothing out a bump under your skirt from the rip he caused.

What an asshole.

Neito Monoma

CW: Hate fucking, mention of reader having breast, dom reader (kinda), monoma cums inside

Neito Monoma has no idea how he ended up like this, under you, a former class 1A student. Someone he has aspired to beat for years, always ranking just above him on the hero charts. A mocking reminder that he’s always that far behind you.

But now he can’t bring himself to hate it, he can’t make himself spew some elementary insult. No, not when you look like this. Your hips straddling his own, eyes boring down into his, mouth pulled into a tight angry smile, and hero costume slowly falling down your shoulders. Just barely exposing the swell of your breast.

Just as he was about to get lost in his thoughts again your hips moved, rubbing yourself against his pathetically achy bulge, a whine sounding from his shaking lips. “I thought I told you to pay attention,” your voice is harsh as you grab his chin, forcing him to look you in the eyes. “you can’t even do that. Should I just leave you like this?”

Instantly his eyes widened, unconsciously shaking his head no. “W-wait!- wait… you don’t need to leave..” his voice pleading as he searches your face for any sign of pleasing you. “Seriously? Everytime I see you, you act like you’re oh so much better than me? When in reality this is all it takes to break you down? Pathetic.” To punctuate your statement, you roughly roll your hips. Taking satisfaction in the moan that follows.

And so you continued like that, rolling your hips against his, his whimpers and moans music to your ears. His hands shakily holding onto your hips, eyes squeezed shut in pleasure. Then, he came with a long drawn out moan, a wet spot instantly forming in his pants. You pull back, a teasing chuckle leaving your mouth as you look at him. Hair messy, face flushed, chest heaving, half hard boner poking against his now wet pants, so much for “better than you”. But, as merciful as you are, you reached your hand down to pull his zipper.

Which is how you ended up like this, gripping his shoulders while he sloppily fucks up into you. His mouth hanging open, babbling slurred pleas and praises, a mix of “thank you”s and “you’re so good” filling your ears. Biting your lip to keep from giving him the satisfaction of making you moan despite how perfectly he was filling you up.

“Fuck…keep going..” you groan, your voice coming out more needy than you had intended. Your body betraying you as you grip him tightly, back arching deviously. He wraps his arms around your waist for better leverage, thrusting harder. In response your head falls back, small moans leaving your mouth. “S-still fuckin’ hate you..” he chuckles and speeds up in response, voice not anymore collected tha yours. “Yeah.. I k-know..”

You feel like you’re going insane, brain and body at odds with each other. Almost like your denying the fact that someone you hate so much is making you feel so good. And maybe it’s the taboo in your mind or the increase in speed and power of his thrust, but you fall over the edge. A moan filling the air around you as you cum, clinching tightly around him. His hips sputtering and speeding up as he cries out and fills you up, both of you panting in the aftermath.

So there you lay, a puddle of sweaty limbs and bodily fluids. You find yourself drifting into sleep as you rest your head on his chest, steady heartbeat drowning out your thoughts. The last thing on your mind as you close your eyes being that maybe Monoma isn’t that bad.

Hanta Sero

cw/disclaimer: 18+, car sex, thigh riding, fwb

You sit in the passengers seat of Sero’s car in silence after dropping your friends off, letting them leave with the belief that he’s driving you home and going about his day. That couldn’t be further from the truth. 

“Where?” he glances at you quickly before looking back at the road.

You search the neighborhood before your eyes land on an alleyway. you point, “There.”

He pulls into the alleyway; no people and no distractions. Finally.

As soon as he parks the car, you reach over the armrest and place your hands on his chest as you kiss him. Matching your energy, Sero moves his hands to your lower back, letting them travel up your shirt. His fingertips send shivers down your spine, only contributing more to your horniness. 

He pulls away for a second to catch his breath, “Backseat?” 

You nod eagerly, letting him travel back first before following after him. Gratefully, there’s enough room in the back of his truck to move in such a way. 

Sero leans against the car door, pulling you onto his lap seductively. Continuing what you started before, you lift his shirt up over his head. He kisses you again leaving red marks as he slowly travels from your lips to your neck. 

Lustful compliments leave his mouth when you squirm within his touch, becoming more desperate as his hands reach lower down your body. He props you up to easily slide your shorts off, exposing your underwear. 

The look in your eyes was intense, almost hungry. It was something about fucking your best friend that made everything much more arousing. Being impatient, you climb onto his thigh, not wasting any time before grinding against him. Sero assists you by pushing his knee up into your clit, motivated by your whines and heavy breaths.

You lower your hand to his waist which prompts him to take his pants off for you. 

“You want it?” he whispers, aligning himself with you. 

Heat rises to your face from his teasing, and instead of responding, you pull your panties to the side and slowly sit down on him. A pleasured groan escapes from Sero as he slides inside of you and guides your hips back and forth with his hands. You wrap your arms around his neck and let your forehead rest on his. 

You struggle to keep your composure when the boy under you starts to mumble your name, begging you to go faster and admiring the way you tighten around him. You bring your hand in between your legs to rub yourself as you ride him, which enhances your arousal. Noticing this, he fucks into you, leaving kisses on your skin again.

Your stomach tightens as you embrace your much-waited release, Sero following suit shortly after. Heavy, unsteady breathing fills up the space, and your mind clears as you come down from the high of your climax. You relax into his arms, satisfied with the advantages you have being Hanta’s favorite friend.

Tenya Iida

cw/disclaimer: college, orgasm denial, blowjob.

Tenya Iida has the annoying tendency to always engage in competition during class discussions, going back and forth with you before the professor interrupts. Not to mention you both are at the top of your class. The last place you thought you’d be is in his dorm room, let alone on your knees in front of him.

He looks down at you through dark strands of hair as you frantically attempt to unbuckle his belt.

“Do you need help?” he chuckles lightly, taking amusement in your struggle. 

You finally loosen his pants. “Don’t remind me that you’re you, Tenya.” you say, glaring at him.

Once his pants rest at his ankles, your heartbeat starts to pick up as you lower the tight waistband of his underwear. Your breath catches, surprised that he’s slightly bigger than you imagined he’d be. 

Iida shudders when you take him into your mouth, holding onto his nightstand for balance. You bring your lips up to his head focusing there while keeping eye contact with him. He curses under his breath when you take him in again, averting his gaze away from you.

It’s a nice change of pace to see Tenya be put in his place for once. With your newfound confidence, you start to go faster.  Your right hand assists you as you coax moans to leave his lips. He lets his hand rest on your head, moving a few strands of hair from out of your face. 

“Slower, I’m close..” he mutters, grabbing a handful of your hair. 

Not heeding his warning, you let your tongue engulf him as you go faster than you did before. You watch as his breathing becomes more erratic, throwing his head back at the ceiling. A sense of excitement rushes through you when he gets closer and closer to the point of climax, pulling away before he can do so.

Iida exhales desperately, “Why did you- ?”

You interrupt him with a soft, lingering kiss. “I still have classes to get to, remember?” You tease, pulling up his underwear and pants for him. He wouldn’t get what he wanted out of you, not right now.

You pick up your tote bag from off of the floor and exit his room, fixing your shirt as you walk down the dorm hallway. You smile to yourself, knowing you’d be back later. 

[noriette]

peppering kisses on shinso, shoto, katsuki, iida, & monoma? + how they would react to pda?

(๑>◡<๑)♡(´ε｀ )

i love reading your work so much ♡ thank q!

peppering kisses on them + pda with them

featuring izuku, katsuki, shoto, eijiro, denki, hitoshi, neito, tenya

izuku midoriya

izuku had been beaten up badly by a villain around a week ago but was quickly nursed back to health due to recovery girl. once he came out of the health room with only a limp and an arm in a cast, he was smiling as if he was as good as new. he always found a way to stay happy even when times were difficult.

he sent you a big, toothy grin, and he hugged you with his good arm. you gently held his face in the palms of your hands, and peppered soft kisses all over his face, though mostly around his freckles. soft chuckles came from his mouth, and once you let go, he pushed his lips against yours, finally being able to kiss you again.

although this was mostly in the hallway, no one was there to watch your intimate moment. izuku is fine with showing pda as long as you aren’t doing anything too sexual. anything like making out in public is off the list for him. he just gets embarrassed and feels like only you and he should see each other in such a vulnerable state like that.

katsuki bakugo

katsuki sat on the couch in the common room, scrolling through his phone when he saw something that reminded him of you. it was simply a trend where couples would make bracelets with beads the colors of the eyes of each other, and he smiled. you had been wanting to do that trend for a long time, but never found the perfect time to.

you heard a small sigh from katsuki, who sat right next to you. his eyes were soft and pure, an actual smile on his face for once.

he often didn’t let people see that side of him, the side where he could show that he cared for people in ways other than tough love. normally, he was all grumpy and yelling at anyone who stepped in his path, but with you, you were the love of his life. you got to see his vulnerable and sweet side.

you scooted closer to him, and he instinctively pulled you closer, having your legs draped across his lap. you looked up into his crimson eyes, and he stared back with the same intensity.

eventually, you pounced and gave him kisses all over his face. he grumbled, “the hell are you doing?” and tried to keep his grumpy façade, but you didn’t miss the low chuckle from his mouth.

it was a bit of a surprise that he hadn’t gently pushed you off yet, or taken you back to your room. katsuki isn’t too big of a fan of pda, as he isn’t so outwardly affectionate in public. sure, he’s protective of you, but the most he does is gently grab your face and kiss you when no one’s looking. in private, however, his hands are all over you.

shoto todoroki

shoto ate the soba you bought him from a stand near his house, although he persisted in buying it himself. he had plenty of money and didn’t want you to waste yours on his, though you claimed it would be a good investment. it would be rude for him to not let you pay, at least that’s what you told him, so he finally let you use your card, although he watched you pay with a frown on his face.

the two of you sat on a bench in a park, and you watched him eat his soba, occasionally telling random stories or conspiracy theories you heard on the internet. he would respond with short but interactive and interesting answers, then continue eating his noodles.

the more you watched him, the cuter you thought he was for simply eating. you told him that watching him scroll through instagram was attractive, and he still hadn’t understood why. how could you find him attractive for doing the most mundane things?

you rested your cheek on your fist, and your elbow was propped up on the table. a giddy grin stretched across your face, and shoto finally looked up at you, confused as to why you were smiling.

he stared at you back, though continuing to eat his noodles.

you squealed, and once he was done chewing, you reached across the table to kiss all over his face. he leaned in slightly, making it easier for you as a slight smile appeared on his face, just visible enough for you to notice it.

when you were done, you apologized, but he then reached over the table and softly cupped your cheek, giving you a sweet, long kiss on the lips. he pulled away, then smiled at you, and ate the rest of his noodles like nothing happened.

shoto isn’t too against pda, it just never comes to his mind. he doesn’t yearn to kiss you everywhere in public, but he’s okay with it if it ever comes up. he hardly thinks of making out with you, so he doesn’t think of it, especially in public. he guides you with a hand on your back, protectively leading you through crowds. occasionally, you’ll get a little peck on the cheek or a kiss on the lips as he passes by.

eijiro kirishima

eijiro read a book on his bed, having you lay down next to him, occasionally reading along the lines with him when you became bored. it had become increasingly harder for you to sleep for some unexplained reason, but hopefully being with him would help. sometimes, when you asked him to, he would read out loud to you.

though tonight wasn’t one of those nights. you still had much energy left, eijiro seemed calm and collected, but matched your energy at all times. he wasn’t tired, and you bet if you woke him up to ask to train at two in the morning, he’d say yes.

but for some reason, you caught his attention. he put the book face down on his stomach and grinned down at you, pulling you closer.

“you don’t seem tired, babe,” he commented, petting your hair.

“‘m not,” you mumbled, bored out of your mind.

but another burst of energy caught you by surprise, and you jumped up onto him, straddling his lap and looking down at a perplexed eijiro. you placed your hands on his chest and kissed him all over his face, and with success, he began to giggle, feeling tickles all over his face.

once you pulled away, he repeated what you did to him.

eijiro is the most loving man ever. he does not care about the public seeing how much he loves you and is not embarrassed about pda. he can and will kiss you, hug you, and have sentimental conversations with you in public and private spaces. he does prefer making out with you in private rather than in public though because he knows some random people don’t want to see a couple sucking face at ten in the morning.

denki kaminari

as denki opened a present and ripped apart the wrapping paper, he soon realized he now had a pikachu plushie. he grinned and picked it up from its box, then chuckled at the reference. his classmates always used to joke around and call him pikachu because of their similar powers and appearances. it was just an inside joke.

he exclaimed, “thanks babe, this is so cool! when’d you get me this?” he leaned over and gave you a big kiss on the cheek, and you jumped on him with intensity.

he yelped, and when you started to pepper kisses all over him, he couldn’t stop himself from laughing. the kisses tickled, and he tried to hold onto your hips to ground himself. he was just too cute to resist.

as soon as you stopped and got off of him, denki flipped you over and attacked you with kisses as well.

social anxiety is afraid of denki kaminari. he’s not embarrassed by doing a lot and is rather bold with his moves, but sometimes gets embarrassed once the realization of his actions sinks in. he’ll kiss you anywhere in front of a million people, and he’ll brag about you being his partner too.

hitoshi shinso

hitoshi lay on your bed with his cheek on his fist, listening to you rant about some show you’re interested in and its lore. he asks you more questions to further engage in the conversation, feeling entertained by each second that passes. when you pause, he tilts his head.

“is something wrong? why did you stop talking?” he asked, a tinge of concern in his eyes. he just wanted to hear your voice.

you paused for a moment, “you always listen to me so intently.”

he smiled, “that’s just basic respect, honey.”

you shyly smiled and kicked your feet, causing him to let out a low chuckle. when he was caught off guard, you pounced on him, causing the bed to slightly bounce, and you cupped his face with your palms before pressing your lips all across his face, giving him many kisses.

he didn’t seem to react much, but when you pulled away, he hardly gave you the chance to see his now rosy cheeks. he put a gentle hand around the back of your neck to guide you back to him, and he gave you a long, intimate kiss. his hand lingered on your neck, and his other gently rubbed your hip.

a relaxed sigh came from your mouth, and as soon as you pulled away from the kiss, you went back for more.

hitoshi gets a bit nervous showing pda. it’s not that he doesn’t love you, far from it, but he also feels like extreme affection should be in private. he wants you all to himself, though he does admit it’s a bit selfish of him for that need of his.

neito monoma

only after you convinced neito to study with you, did he begin to receive a’s on his report card each year. when he received his first test back after studying with you, he was ecstatic to see he got a perfect score. he came to your dorm after school and held up the paper proudly in his hands, showing it off like it was his child.

you congratulated him, and he grinned with pride, always loving it when you complimented him.

you tackled him onto the bed and peppered kisses all over his face, the test left behind on the floor.

neito rubbed your back, and then grabbed your cheeks, squeezing them together. he teased, “you could’ve just told me you were proud of me,” then rolled his eyes, still with a cocky grin on his face.

neito doesn’t think much about showing pda but he’s fine with it. if you want to make out in the hallway, he’d do it, he’s down bad for you but wouldn’t admit it straightforward. he loves wrapping an arm around your shoulder and giving you long kisses just to piss other people off.

tenya iida

tenya was somewhat easy to catch off guard because he was comfortable around you. he wasn’t as strict or tense around you, perhaps more lenient because you were his favorite person.

but you still tried to catch him off guard, so one day, as he wasn’t doing anything too important, you walked up to him. he looked down at you and asked, “hello, my love. do you need my assistance?”

then you pushed him onto the bed and kissed him all over the face, his hands still fisted at his sides. when you pulled away with a grin, his face was beet red, and his glasses were slipping off. when you pushed them back up for him, he let out a small, ‘thank you,’ and cleared his throat.

he took a few minutes just staring at the ground in disbelief.

tenya isn’t too fond of making out in public, but he’s fine with some pda. he isn’t afraid to kiss you or hug you, and he’s a gentleman while doing it too. he’s always polite, never letting his hands slip where they shouldn’t be, and always holds the door open for you. the only time he won’t show much pda is when he needs to protect you from a villain.

hey! i normally don’t write for tenya but this was cute to write. because you love my other works, i hope you love this one too

[cheeseboy382]

Meow

[tall]

[sweethearticism]

𝓡.𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀ᅠ ͏͏ ͏͏ 🌷♡ ͏͏ᅠ ͏͏ ͏refuses to hold your baby

♡. 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓽𝓽𝓱𝓻𝓸𝓫. heian!sukuna :: slight angst :: fluff

"Do not bring that thing near me."

"This thing is your daughter."

The King of Curses sat upon his throne, and yet you had no issue glaring up at him. As if it were your stare that could cleave. Your hands that could ignite his shrine into blitz and ember.

Bundled in a silk blanket and babbling up at you with eyes as ruby as her father's, your daughter chewed on her thumb. Blissfully oblivious to the tyrant from which she came.

Sukuna refused to hold her.

It was subtle, at first. When she was born, he claimed that it was vital for a baby to stay close to its mother. For warmth, food and comfort.

It had been four weeks, and your husband hadn't so much as grazed her tiny pinkie.

"Why?" You asked, anger blooming in your throat like the flowers he had planted in the gardens for you. He would sully his knees in the soil and his hands in the mud for your benefit, but couldn't bear to hold the life that he had created?

Sukuna's face was hard in a scowl. Each maroon eye glaring into your soul.

A beat of silence.

"I do not want to."

You flared, clinging your baby closer. "Are you ashamed? Ashamed of the life we created?"

"No, damnit woman—"

"Then why!?"

"Because I will mar her!"

The shrine shook as he shoved himself out of his throne. Standing now. It was at his full height that you recognised the being thousands feared. Four arms, two faces, and a stature that rose from hell.

His glare burned, but it wasn't anger. Face twisted in an emotion you hadn't seen enough from him.

"I will— hurt her. Is that what you want?"

Vulnerability.

Your daughter startled. Sniffling at the booming voice that rattled the floors. You watched her face squish and her lip quiver, before a broken, hiccuped sob filled the air.

His shoulders sunk. The fight seeping out of him. You watched his eyes swell with many things you'd never seen before.

Guilt, sadness.

Fear.

Rocking your startled baby, you held her close with soft shushes, but her sniffles soon turned into wails. Sukuna's stood frozen, sullen.

You understood, now.

Cradling the small girl, you stepped forward. Up the stairs to the platform of his throne. Even as he took a step back, you persisted.

"Sukuna. . ." You called to him. Soft in the way that only you were capable of being with him.

He almost flinched.

"This child, she's ours. Our daughter, made with love."

You stood right in front of him now. Taking in his wound up muscles and squared shoulders. Looking more like a deer ready to sprint than a father.

A father who feared that his hands were too rough, too evil, to nurture his own child.

"You won't hurt her. Because she's ours." Reaching forward, you held out the sobbing bundle. Watching his face and the several shades of uncertainty it turned.

You had never seen him so. . . frightened.

You pushed past his hesitancy, carefully placing your daughter into a set of his hulking arms. She was tiny compared to him. Seemed he was processing that too.

Aiding his position, you slipped one of your hands to tenderly hold him by the bicep as he, for the first time ever, held his daughter.

His breath was hitched. All of his eyes gaping at the small bundle in his arms. Watching her as if she were the most delicate piece of porcelain.

Your daughter's sobs stirred into sniffles, then hiccups, until. . . silence.

As big, ruby eyes stared up at her father. Taking him in. His face, his warmth.

And then, she beamed a toothless smile.

Sukuna tensed. A shaky breath hitching.

"She's— she's smiling. Why is she smiling?"

He quickly looked to you. Brows pinched. Looking lost, looking scared.

You offered him a smile, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek. "Because she knows that her father loves her." Tickling her neck, you hummed as she squirmed a bit and giggled, pressing more into him.

He instinctively held her closer. Eyes unblinking.

You watched as Ryomen Sukuna, The King of Curses, melted. His heart swelling as he stared at his daughter. Even bringing one of his fingers closer to her, so that she could grab at it. Hugging around it with that big, bring smile.

His mouth quirked at the corner. Faint, but tender.

"Yeah. . ." He whispered, voice thick with emotion. Centuries worth of affection for his child, his daughter.

"Your father loves you. More than anything. More than life."

© 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒊𝒔𝒎. no plagiarism or ai training authorised. divider: @/cheriisoda. art cred: @/lacquerheadd

꒰ 🌷 ⸰  ✦ enjoyed this piece?   ꒱ consider joining my patreon or commissioning me <3 I appreciate all the support!

[drawnbymabel]

Happy pride

[hunnismokah]

nerdjo before it got too overwhelming with all the aus !!!!!

[fireflyschiikawa]

husband!sukuna : beach episode

the sun pours over your body as you walk along empty handed with sukuna holding all the bags and beach equipment. baby!yuji patters along on the mildly hot sand, running on levels of adrenaline only a six year old could muster.

the beach is filled with families similar to yours, children playing in the water, people tanning in the deliciously hot sun and rounds of volleyball being tossed around by large friend groups.

sukuna places down your lounging chairs with an attached shaded umbrella, and plops down with all the bags containing various miscellaneous things.

yuji sticks his tongue out slightly, eyes lighting up with mischief and tries to make a beeline for the water before you grab him by the collar.

“no one gets out there without sunscreen” you wave a finger at him, instructing him to settle down.

yuji pouts impatiently swinging his legs while you get out the bottle of kids sunscreen and rub it on every bit of his exposed skin.

your son wrinkles his nose when you reach for his face applying the lotion in soft rhythmic motions. you proceed to pinch his cheeks and give him a little kiss there while yuji giggles.

sukuna watches you fuss over the brat with mild amusement. his eyes squint under the sun, and drop to admire what you’ve got on.

a frilly little thing exposing your beautiful curves.

sukuna scans the area noting any men looking towards your general direction and stares them down with a cutting glare only he could manage. a look that screamed ‘look away before i come dislocate that head myself’ for good measure.

while yuji runs off to play in the sand, you turn to him with the sunscreen bottle in hand and a knowing smile.

“your turn”

sukuna scoffs from where he’s sprawled back in the beach chair, one arm lazily hanging off the side.

“i don’t burn”

“yes you do”

“i literally don’t”

“your nose got pink last time”

his eyes narrow immediately, “it did not.”

“you then complained that it itched and brooded about it the whole time”

“i don’t brood”

you hum ignoring his offense entirely and pat your thighs.

“c’mere”

he stares at you for a long second before clicking his tongue and leaning forward anyway because despite all his dramatics, sukuna has never once denied you when you used that tone on him.

you snort as sukuna settles in front of you. his massive frame blocks the sun completely and he smells like saltwater and heat already despite barely having stepped into the ocean.

you squeeze sunscreen into your palms and rub it across his shoulders.

his muscles flex beneath your hands while you smooth lotion over the dark markings curling along his skin, careful and thorough despite the way he eyes you.

you drag your fingers over his neck and jaw, rubbing sunscreen into the bridge of his nose while he looks deeply inconvenienced by affection.

“look down”

“this is humiliating.”

“look down, so i can get the back of your neck.”

he grumbles under his breath but tilts his chin downward anyway. his previously bored, half lidded eyes, dilate at the sight of your cleavage, right. in. his. face.

how blissful.

yuji bursts into giggles. you had spiked up sukuna’s hair to stand up in a funky way.

“you look funny papa”

sukuna grimaces.

“want me to throw you into the ocean?”

“yeah!”

“…”

you laugh so hard you nearly smear sunscreen into sukuna’s eye.

you take turns, with sukuna now applying sunscreen onto your back.

eventually yuji tears off toward the shoreline with a plastic bucket in hand, sandals abandoned somewhere behind him.

you lean back into your chair with a satisfied sigh while sukuna sits beside you, one arm draped lazily behind your head.

for a while the two of you simply watch.

yuji jumps over tiny waves, yelling triumphantly every single time he successfully crosses one.

he crouches to collect shells with complete seriousness only to abandon them three seconds later because another wave has appeared.

his little laugh carries over the water. your chest feels warm.

“he looks like you when he gets excited,” you murmur, nuzzling against the base of sukuna’s neck.

“poor kid”

you elbow him lightly, “it is cute sukuna, you are cute”

before sukuna can mull over your words, yuji suddenly turns around spotting the two of you immediately.

“papa!! come here!!”

sukuna pretends not to hear,

“papa!!”

you mouth a slight ‘go’ as your husband sighs dramatically before obliging as per usual.

the water reaches just beneath his knees when yuji grabs his hand excitedly and starts dragging him around with all the strength a six year old could possess.

you pad in after them enjoying the waves and the feel of soft sand beneath your bare feet.

you smile to yourself. it is almost absurd seeing sukuna getting ordered around by a child carrying a neon orange shovel.

yuji points toward a lopsided sandcastle near the shore, “help me make it BIGGER” he sticks his arms out to act out how big he wanted it to be.

sitting back down on your chair you try not to look too amused as sukuna crouches down into the sand.

his large hands awkwardly shape wet sand while yuji gives deeply unnecessary instructions beside him.

“more tower”

sukuna looks over at you, pleading for an escape. you wave him off.

“it’s a sandcastle not a fortress” he mutters back.

“more tower” yuji runs about, sometimes gathering sand and sometimes water. most of the time being largely unhelpful.

sukuna clicks his tongue and adds another tower.

hours later the sky begins softening into gold.

yuji’s exhausted enough now to become clingy, dragging his feet through the sand while holding onto sukuna’s hand.

“i need to wash my feet” you brush sand off your legs with a tired groan.

before you can even move, sukuna bends down and scoops you into his arms effortlessly.

you yelp, “kuna—”

he pats you lower thigh,“stop squirming”

people nearby glance over briefly before immediately looking away once sukuna glares in their direction.

you hide your snicker against his shoulder while he carries you toward the rinse station near the boardwalk.

the water runs cool over your feet as he holds you securely against his chest, an arm around your waist like you weigh nothing at all.

yuji stands beside him sleepily rubbing his eyes.

once your feet are clean, sukuna sets you carefully onto the bench.

then without a word, he crouches down.

you blink.

“..what’re you doing?”

he grabs your sandals from beside the bench.

“your feet’ll get dirty again.”

years of loving him and your heart still stutters stupidly.

sukuna slides the sandals onto your feet one by one with mild annoyance etched across his face, but you know better. his love language when it came to you, was acts of service.

meanwhile yuji watches with narrowed eyes, “papa..?”

“what.”

“that’s sooo romantic” he smiles ear to ear.

sukuna immediately flicks water at his forehead.

yuji screeches dramatically while you laugh loud enough that people turn to look again.

“where did he even learn that?” sukuna asks, a mild smile overtaking his usual harsh features.

you shrug, in a dream-like trance, the domesticity of this moment making your heart soar.

and for once, sukuna doesn’t care at all.

firefly; you guys wanted longer fics so hehe i hope this was good

more like this

[eclipsiee]

staying up late? husband nanami

Nanami was fast asleep, back towards you the only sound being his soft snores that feel up the empty and dark room. Well, almost dark. Your screen was dimly lit as you doom scrolled.

Instagram, TikTok, Pinterest—repeat. You weren’t tired although you promised your husband you’d atleast try to start getting some proper sleep.

You also complain about how unfair it is, how easy he can fall asleep. But you guess that’s just the perks of old age. You turn your sound up a bit as you scroll through reels. Not even five minutes later, Nanami’s up.

His eyebrows furrow as he adjusts his eyesight. “Honey.” His tired voice rings in your ear, you discard your phone elsewhere on the bed. “I tried, I can’t it’s hard for me to fall asleep quickly.” He lets out a huff before pulling you into his chest where you can his heartbeat.

“Maybe, if you reduced the time you spend on your phone before bed—“ he kisses the top of your head. “Then maybe you might be able to go to sleep.”

You let out a weary sigh, “I’ve tried that.” You can hear him scoff. “baby love, you tried it for two minutes and you went back on your phone. “Yeah.” You nod, “still effort.” You feel him shake from the vibration of his laughter. “A for effort.” He teases.

Nanami drapes the blanket over the two of you, His fingers find your cheeks and just your face in general. “Relax them, relax your face muscles.” Once he feels you relax, he then takes his hands off. “Now drop your shoulders.” You do as he says. “Why are you so tense, hm?” He asks through the process.

You let out a deep breath, “Am I tense?” he nods, “Relax your arms and exhale.” You obey, “good, look honey, you’re doing so good.” he whispers into your ear.

You smile against him. “Now this is gonna sound a little silly—“ his hands find your waist. “Imagine some peaceful scenery, where you’re at. Could be the beach, mountains, anywhere”

Your breath comes warm against his chest, “my girl.” he murmurs pressing one more kiss to your head. “my sleepy girl.”

sometimes I write what I want to experience and it’s sad because like 💔💔

[aransmind]

adult itafushi

[grenadehearts]

tiktok trend with boyfriend sukuna wiping the bottle after he takes a sip. . . his reaction!

you sat your phone against your desk, the charm dangling in front of the camera, obscuring the view for a brief blurry second before sukuna scoffed, a large hand reaching out to flick it out of frame. “damn thing’s in the way.”

as you settled beside him, sukuna shifted into the camera’s frame too—naturally taking up more space than the camera could properly capture—large, broad shoulders, spiky, mussed salmon-hued hair pushed back from his tatted hand running through it way too many times, displaying all his sharp, sinister-looking features that stood out under the bright light in your dorm room.

a long roman nose that almost looked sculpted by the gods rather than born, edged brows pulled into a permanent annoyed expression, peach-colored lips soft despite the permanent grumpiness etched into them.

deep pools of onyx-colored ink seeped into his tanned skin, veins bulging faintly through the markings.

you glance over at your annoyed, pouting hulk of a boyfriend who, despite his rough exterior, is all soft for you.

you smile. “thanks, kuna baby.”

he shrugs, dismissively letting out a rasp-filled grunt. “tch.”

you poke his cheek in return, and he only sighs, but you feel the way he slowly melts into it, subtle and hesitant, like a grumpy stray cat pretending it doesn’t secretly enjoy pets.

“get on with it,” he demands.

you give him a pointed look.

his eye twitches before he grumbles, voice rougher this time, “get on with it, baby.”

“see? was that so hard?” you say sweetly, playing coy.

he rolls his eyes, head falling back against the chair, tongue clicking inside his mouth.

“don’t push it,” he says gruffly.

you squeal, ignoring his warning, clapping your hands together as you pull out the original-flavored ramune soda, the glass bottle clinking beneath your manicured nails while the clear liquid sloshes inside.

having tried every flavor but this one, you were excited—but more than anything, you were practically buzzing from the tips of your fingers to your toes at the trick you were about to play on sukuna.

he doesn’t really keep up with social media or trends—thinks they’re stupid. he only has an instagram because you begged him to get one so he could see your posts, and it’s literally just a black profile picture with the username mygirlfriendmadememakethisbullshit, and a bio that reads:

“fuck off im married.”

you’re not, but sukuna declares every single day that you’re his bride-to-be, ridiculously possessive about it too.

you’re his.

he’ll do anything to make sure you know that.

thankfully, his complete lack of knowledge when it comes to social media means you can play all the stupid, silly pranks on him, and he never sees them coming. and his reactions never fail to amaze you.

sometimes, you swear you can practically see steam billowing from his ears like some cartoon character. he’s embarrassingly easy to rile up.

your lips curl into a mischievous smirk for only a second before you replace it with a silky, saccharine-glossed pout.

“here,” you hum, holding the bottle out. “you try first.”

sukuna’s large hand practically swallows the bottle, fingers covering most of the label before he tips it back and takes a long swig.

immediately, he makes a face—teeth clenched, jaw tightening as he sucks in a breath, grimacing, his expression twisting in disgust.

“tastes like garbage,” he says bluntly, holding the bottle out for you to take back. “too sweet.”

you crinkle your nose. “what? gimme. i’ll be the judge of that. your tastebuds suck.”

he stares at you, his expression completely deadpan.

“clearly they don’t if i’m with you.”

heat pools low in your stomach from his compliment. you smile, pink dusting your cheeks, teasing him back.

“duh. i’m the exception.”

you snatch the bottle from him, bringing the edge of your shirt up to wipe the rim—erasing a part of him, or at least that’s what sukuna thinks as it takes him a second to fully process what you’ve just done.

his mouth tilts into something almost amused, a dangerous sort of smirk, but his crimson eyes narrow to slits, irritation flickering through them as the telltale vein in his forehead pulses.

you bring the bottle to your lips, forming a small “o” around the opening.

sukuna’s red-inked eyes narrow further, tracking every minuscule movement, locked onto you completely like a predator watching its prey—well, without the bloodshed.

“ooo, yummy,” you hum. “tastes like bubblegum.”

he swears you’re going to be the death of him—he’s had enough with your little tricks.

“what the fuck was that, huh?” he snaps. “treatin’ me like i’m some fuckin’ scum?”

you laugh nervously, trying to play it off, but he’s already moving.

rough hands manhandle you effortlessly, yanking the bottle from your grasp before he takes another massive swallow.

one large hand grips your jaw, thumb prodding at your soft lips, forcing your mouth open, holding it wide as he spits the fizzy soda back into your mouth.

he settles against his chair again like nothing happened, watching intently as you swallow it all down.

his hand lightly slaps your cheek, palm heated against your flesh, no real sting—only the phantom lingering touch that makes you feel a little too desperate for more.

“don’t do that stupid shit again,” he says, voice low, sending a shiver down your spine, your heart stuttering with a sudden, aching need for him.

꒰ྀི১ ໒꒱ིྀ masterlist - kofi - emergency comm info!

note: first time writing for sukuna.. how did i do?? this was inspired by a tiktok trend btw

taglist: @seraphsmuse @xoxojisu @esilek @candiiee @cvnt4him @panchikogirlfriend @lotusstarr @cupkiki @3lenaatvt @the-faceless-bride @badslittlemuffin @dreamcastgirl99 @wonubby @dienamiight @sofi4dsam @kawaiiclubdaily @therefore-evermore @luckybibucky @sk1ppy-art @myths-and-ledgends @icanread-icantwrite @changkyunnnie @twoplayergaymers @socialobligation @calliopemanga @izutwos @doubelieveme @ivankinnieclatter @roronoafushiguroaratakahakari @green-orange-bloom @sparklylanddetective @lem-hhn @gaige312 @ryobaby @hrts4cupid @buuxbear @b00rants @v4mp1r3b4tzz @trilxogyyy @loveergirll @searchingfornothinggg @megumisrighttoe @rarebambi @vitya124 @prettisilky take a look at this post to be added, or removed!

[satomiu]

love is blind ! or perhaps, silent ? ⤷ ゛ ✮ sukuna’s  wife gets some godawful advice . . .

you wanted to be the perfect partner for sukuna, naturally. which in turn meant doing exactly what the wives of the court insisted: learning the sacred art of not speaking to your husband for as long as you can to, “cultivate intimacy”  . . ? or so you were told.

unfortunately, much to your displeasure, you had only lasted until the third hour. reason being—to put it quite plainly—ryomen sukuna is quite the relentless man . . .

he let out a sigh. a very loud, obnoxious sigh.

“i wish for my wife to talk to me.”

nothing.

“i wish for my wife to deign to speak to her husband.”

. . .

“i wish for my wife to cease such an absurd performance, and speak to me how she normally does. it is tiresome. the silence. do you not agree?”

your footwear scuffed softly against the cobblestone path as you came to an abrupt halt. the warmth that normally lingered in your gaze gave way to mild annoyance, though not enough to be mistaken for genuine displeasure.

try as you might, you could never remain upset with your beloved for long.

“i have heard you the first time sukuna, what is that you want?” you huff, the words drawn out in mild exasperation. tilting your head back to look up at him, your lips pressed into a faint pout, brows knitting together in a questioning glance.

sukuna only halts with you, standing a few feet ahead of you. “sukuna?” he repeats, perplexed, his gaze narrowing slightly at the unfamiliar distance between you. 

usually, you referred to him by far gentler names. my beloved. simply, husband. my lord, when you wished to pester him. simply “sukuna” was a new low he had never imagined he would reach.

he scoffs, “to engage in conversation. i thought it to be rather obvious, was it not?”

you inhale sharply, as though it were painful to neglect your husband in such a way. perhaps it was. and yet, it was for the better.

“well, i cannot.”

“ . . . you, cannot?”

“i cannot.”

…. 

“have i done something to displease you? or wound your honor?” 

you look at him with quiet seriousness, a sorry attempt to stand your ground.

“no. you are disturbing the ritual,” you say, voice a mild but firm whisper, as though the contents of your speech were not meant to fall upon the ears of another.

“the ritual…”

“yes, the ritual.”

“what ritual do you speak of?”

“the one i am attempting to complete it.”

you huff under your breath. “or rather, the one you are making rather difficult. i have already spoken too much, and you are not helping.” 

you attempt to resume your way down the path, tucked between silk-draped garden pavilions, only for your unreasonably large husband to step in front of you. all four arms are crossed over his bare chest, a black haori draped over his broad shoulders.

when you finally glance at him, to your surprise, there is a deadly seriousness in his gaze that sends a shiver down your spine.

“where are you going? i believe we are in the middle of a conversation, are we not?”

you only suck in a sharp breath, splaying a fan to cover the lower half of your face, your eyes darting toward a nearby patch of cherry blossoms, anywhere but his own. “i cannot speak with you.” you reply softly, a gentle warmth rising to your cheeks, soft as ripened plums, taking a small step back from him.

his gaze narrows slightly, studying your unusual timidness, along with your peculiar mannerisms. “you do see how you are poking at my nerves, yes?”

“well, that only means it is working. so if you would only let me complete it to its entirety—” 

“working…?” he scoffs, only taking another step forward until there is nowhere left for you to retreat.

you take another step backward, then another, then another, until your shoulders brush against the wall behind you. only then do you finally stop. sukuna places a hand beside your head and stares down at you, all four eyes narrowed.

“wife.”

the single word causes you to blink. “you will explain this ritual to me. at once.”

you let out a groan as you raise the fan to cover your face entirely. “why is it that you cannot respect my privacy?” your voice slipping out in a low, uncertain whisper.

sukuna lets out a low chuckle at that.

well, you believe. you cannot see his face after all, but there is no trace of displeasure in it.

shortly after, you feel his warm heavy hand, one stained with years of work and war, gentle to the touch, lowering your wrist, and therefore the fan. his voice is low and soft, as if coaxing an answer out of you:

“you do not actually wish to be apart from me like this. do you?”

you only let out a soft groan as you give a small shake of your head; eyes soft and pliant, though a small frown lingers over your features.

“ah . . i see,” he hums, eyes scanning over your face before his lower hand comes up to cradle your chin. “and, who, has forced you to do such a thing? because it certainly has not been me.”

you sigh. “i have not been forced.” shrinking back behind your fan.

“i had wanted our marriage to be more intriguing, so i sought out the other wives for advisement.” you pause, watching him carefully. “they said i should not speak to you, so that things would be calmer . . and more . . intimate . . between us once we reunite. though i have heard little of the latter.”

you look up at him once more, lashes blinking uncertainly, as though searching his face for approval. except instead of any shocked or amused reaction, he simply stares at you for a long moment, then exhales slowly through his nose.

“please do not speak to those women again,”

“they are fools.” he says flatly. “you do realize we are as intimate as can be, correct? i have seen you cry. i have seen you without your robes. i have seen you at your most unguarded, and yet you still think there is more to achieve.”

you only smack him lightly with the spread of your bamboo fan. “you cannot just say that!”

“the reason this ‘ritual’ of theirs works is because they do not love their husbands,” he continues, unbothered. “that is why there is peace when they do not speak.”

. . .

“oh.”

and then, a small snicker escapes him, causing your head to whip toward him. an everso slight frown pulls at your lips before he promptly falls silent.

“you mock me.”

“i have said nothing.”

“you are smiling.”

a soft silence spreads between the two of you, lingering, to that of a breath being held for too long . . . before a low burst of laughter escapes his throat. a quiet, unrestrained cackle that makes your chest loosen despite yourself.

his hand comes up to rest over his mouth, while the other remains crossed over his chest, his shoulders shaking with each contained laugh.

“do not laugh!” you insist, though your voice wavers with lingering amusement. “i have done this for you!”

“must you look so aggrieved? i am only laughing with you.”

you huffed, loud and dramatic; “how can you laugh with me when i am not laughing at all?”

“very well”, he began, an infuriatingly smug smile working onto his face, “i’ll wait for you to start then.”

and then, as though a switch had been flipped; every trace of amusement vanished. the smile disappeared, his features settling back into the impassive countenance of a ruler, as if nothing at all had been amusing.

unbelievable.

but only after a moment does it slip from you too: soft at first, almost disbelieving, your laughter spilling out in quiet, uneven breaths before settling into something gentler. you cover your mouth with your fan, though it does little to hide it.

“i would prefer this be forgotten.”

“unfortunately, wife, i cannot grant you that mercy.”

and while you hated to admit it, the advice had been sound; simply at the expense of your last shred of dignity.

[fairweatheralways]

[a-substantial-trash-pile]

the newest hit on my island

[maskedbyghost]

141 had claimed Simon’s living room ever since he bought the place.

It started innocently enough, with a “quick drink after training,” as Price said, which, of course, turned into pizza boxes stacked on the coffee table, half a case of beer gone, Gaz talking too loud, Soap laughing too hard, and you curled up in the corner of Simon’s couch with a blanket wrapped around your shoulders.

It wasn’t even that late, but the exhaustion from the week was settling into your bones.

It was a good night, but as the minutes passed, you started noticing this slow chill setting into your bones. Your fingers were getting colder, your toes were basically numb, and you had to tuck your hands inside the sleeves of your shirt just to feel like you could function.

You wrapped the blanket tighter around yourself, but it was practically useless, more aesthetic than practical, and definitely something Simon had bought thinking, yeah, that looks fine, without once considering whether it could actually warm a person. The man was immune to the concept of “cold,” so of course he thought it was enough.

He noticed before you could pretend hard enough that everything was fine.

Of course he did. Simon had this almost irritatingly perceptive thing going for him, where he’d pick up on the way your shoulders twitched or how you curled your fingers or the fact that you were hugging yourself a little bit too tightly.

He didn’t comment as he quietly stood up and walked down the hall, and when he came back, he had a hoodie in his hand.

One of his hoodies.

“Here,” he said simply, and dropped it onto your lap.

You stared at it. You stared at him. “Simon, you don’t have to—”

He just gave you that look, the one that was somewhere between don’t argue with me and you’re freezing and it’s annoying me, but softened around the edges in a way he probably didn’t even realize.

“You’re cold,” he said. “Put it on.”

And honestly, your heart did this stupid little skip because the hoodie was large and soft and heavy in that comforting way, and it smelled like him. Not overwhelmingly, but enough that when you pulled it over your head, it felt like being wrapped in something safe and warm.

You tucked your hands into the sleeves, which were so long they covered your fingers, and tried not to think about how ridiculously nice it felt. Or how your stomach fluttered when Simon’s eyes lingered on you for a second before he went back to his seat.

The rest of the night went on like normal, but you were hyperaware of the hoodie. How warm it was. How good it smelled. How every now and then Simon’s gaze flicked in your direction, like he was checking on you but trying not to make it obvious. It made your face warm in a way you couldn’t explain.

By the time the night wound down and everyone started heading out, you were so wrapped up in comfort that you didn’t even think to take the hoodie off. It was late, you were tired, and in your mind, you figured you’d just hand it back next time.

Except when you walked toward the door, Simon didn’t say anything. He didn’t clear his throat or gesture or raise an eyebrow or do anything that indicated, hey, that’s mine.

He just stood there in the doorway, arms crossed loosely over his chest, one shoulder leaning against the doorframe, watching you with a gentle expression.

“Night,” he said.

You swallowed. “Night.”

And that was it.

No mention of the hoodie. No teasing. Nothing.

He let you walk out with it still on.

And that was very, very dangerous for your heart.

The group chat was already buzzing before you even woke up, full of Soap’s terrible jokes and Gaz’s reactions and Price pretending to be disappointed in all of you like he wasn’t the biggest menace of them all.

Still half-asleep, you snapped a photo of your morning coffee because the foam had made this accidental little heart shape and you thought it was cute enough to share. So you tossed it in the chat with a quick morning, and didn’t think twice about it.

Until your brain finally woke up.

Until you actually looked at the picture you’d sent.

And there it was in the bottom left corner, part of your arm. Just the sleeve, but you knew it, and Simon definitely knew it.

You were still wearing his hoodie.

Others didn’t notice, obviously. Soap immediately commented about how your coffee art looked better than anything he could ever make.

But Simon… didn’t type anything. Not a single word. Which was somehow worse in your head.

Because miles away, in his own kitchen, he had his phone in his hand, staring at the picture longer than he should have. And once he spotted the sleeve, he didn’t look at the coffee again.

You kept it.

Not just shoved it in a drawer somewhere, no, you were wearing it. In your home. On a random morning. As if it belonged to you now.

Something warm and stupid and incredibly inconvenient bloomed in his chest at the thought.

A few days later, you were not expecting company at all. You were fully settled into your evening, wearing the hoodie again (because at this point it was basically a second skin), hair a little messy, feet bare, completely unprepared for the outside world.

You’d left a message earlier in the day asking if anyone had seen the flash drive you’d forgotten, but you hadn’t gotten an answer yet, so you figured you’d pick it up tomorrow.

Then your doorbell rang.

As you went to open the door expecting maybe a neighbor, maybe a package, maybe someone trying to sell you something, you were shocked to see him standing on the other side of the door.

Standing there while holding the flash drive between his fingers.

Your stomach dropped in the most embarrassing way.

“Oh— hi. I— I didn’t know you were coming by,” you said, trying not to choke on your words.

Simon lifted the drive slightly. “Found this at work. Thought you might need it.”

You blinked and realized, with absolute horror, that you were wearing the hoodie again.

And when Simon’s eyes lowered taking in what you were wearing, you felt your face go hot.

He raised one eyebrow, and the corner of his mouth pulled upward in this slow, knowing smirk that made your knees feel weak.

“You ever gonna give that back?” he asked, voice a little too smooth for your sanity.

You were absolutely caught now, with no escape, and nowhere to hide.

You tugged at the hem of the hoodie and looked away, cheeks burning. “Um… no.”

His smirk deepened like he’d just found his new favorite thing in the world.

“No?” he repeated, stepping forward just enough that you instinctively stepped backward, your heartbeat picking up speed.

He took another slow step, like he was giving you every chance to run even though he knew you wouldn’t.

“And why not?” he asked, voice low and warm in a way that made your stomach flutter.

You fidgeted with the sleeve, unable to look directly at him. “Because… it smells like you.”

It came out soft, almost embarrassed.

Simon froze for a second, but not in a bad way, just this sort of stunned stillness, as if the words hit deeper than you meant them to. His expression softened in a way that made your heart trip over itself.

“It smells like me,” he repeated slowly, like he was turning the thought over carefully.

You nodded.

He took one more step, close enough that you could feel the warmth of him, as he murmured, “You could’ve just told me you wanted it.”

You swallowed, feeling ridiculous and very seen. “I didn’t want you to think I was weird.”

“Love,” he said gently, tilting your head so he could meet your eyes, “the only weird thing is that you thought I wouldn’t like it.”

Your breath caught, because that sounded… that sounded like something else. Something almost too good to be real.

He lifted his other hand, hesitating for a moment, then touched your waist softly and leaned in just enough that your foreheads brushed.

You tugged nervously at the sleeve of the hoodie, avoiding his gaze, your cheeks burning like a stupid teenager caught doing something embarrassing.

Simon leaned just a fraction closer, that familiar teasing glint in his eyes softened. “You can keep it,” he murmured, “but only if I get to keep something of yours too.”

Your brows shot up. “And what would that be?” you asked, heart suddenly racing, voice quieter than you intended.

He smirked just a little, with a smirk that made it impossible to look away, and his tone dropped to a teasing whisper. “Your heart,” he said, like it was the most natural thing in the world, like he’d been holding the words in for far too long.

You froze, your fingers tightening around the fabric, breath catching. “You… what?”

“Your heart,” he repeated. “Please don’t make me repeat myself, I’m really bad at this.” He adds with a chuckle.

A mix of shock and heat flooded you, and then a small laugh escaped, soft and breathless. “You’re impossible,” you whispered, though your smile betrayed you, tugging at your lips despite yourself.

“Maybe,” he said, “but I’m serious.”

“…Then stay,” you whispered.

A small, warm smile appeared on his lips.

“Didn’t think I’d hear you say that,” he said quietly.

He stepped inside, brushing against you gently as you closed the door behind him, and when his fingers found yours, you didn’t let go.

You glanced down at the hoodie one more time, smelling him again, and felt your heart skip as you followed him inside.

-----------------------------------------

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[kkumri]

MSBY & BABY!! 🦊🍼 rip papa…