gwenstacied

[gwenstacied]

Tee…

I’m now on my hands and knees BEGGING for bully Gojo who is (secretly) DISGUSTINGLY IN LOVE over the reader PLEASE ANY CRUMBS I WILL TAKE

(you don’t actually have to write this it was just a nice thought)

idkkkkk if it’s rly bully gojo—but he’s definitely a real cunt for sure.

i just think about an asshole! gojo a lot like he’s ur lab partners or something and he does that stereotypical jerk move where he’s like “seriously ?? her ??” when he’s first paired with you. and he’s just naturally an douche, yk ?? wears sunglasses indoors and makes jokes at the professors expense under his breath that gets him snickers and snorts from his frat guys in his class. has to be asked more than once to “please keep it down in the middle of class” by wtv prof he’s in class with.

and he ofc makes u do all the work bc he can’t be bothered—and on the rare occasion that he is bothered, he just does a poor job that’s the bare minimum and sloppy enough that ur like wtv i’ll just do it myself. and then ofc sometimes u don’t have a choice but to meet up to finish something after class every now and then—he wouldn’t care to, but he actually needs to know the stuff for the final report he has to write individually, so he begrudgingly meets up with you, and sometimes you notice his friends give you an amused look when he walks up with them. they snicker before they leave as he sits with you. sometimes they make a snide comment here and there like “have fun with ur super hot date” that makes him roll his eyes—he doesn’t do much to hide the look of distaste on his face.

but then—and he doesn’t even know when it happens—you start to slowly grow on him. because ur actually pretty snarky urself, sometimes making a dry comment here and there about the professor and his stupid bald headed self. sometimes a girl in the distance laughs too hard a group of guys that u roll ur eyes and mumble how “if i had a voice like that i’d never laugh in public” and it makes him snort a bit without meaning to. sometimes you stare daggers at the person who has their music so loud thru their headphones they can’t help but notice u and turn it down in embarrassment. ur actually not as much of a pushover as he thought—you just genuinely think he’s too incapable to help u out that you’ve just shrugged him off and started doing his part. it’s an easy weekly lab class anyway, you don’t need him—and then he realizes that u rly just don’t care for him. his little snickers at u with his friends and their snide comments roll off ur back bc well…he’s him—an asshole little frat boy and u didn’t expect anything better from him. so it makes him a little intrigued—maybe a little wounded in his pride, deep down, because no one has ever been indifferent to him before. they’re either madly in love, or they hate his guts, or they follow his lead. either works—he still gets the attention he craves.

but u just don’t rly care. and ur actually pretty cool, and kinda sorta funny in a way no one else is. he likes it…and fuck, now he’s starting to like you. he can tell bc when his friends ask how his little date with you went, he starts getting a bit huffy ab it bc they don’t need to talk about you. they don’t even know you…but also….its not a date. and that’s the worst part. sometimes it feels like a date. almost—sometimes you both decide to take a break in between and go get a coffee or a light snack. sometimes he’s even paid (to which you look mildly shocked before politely thanking him) and you both walk back to the library while u make light banter and it’s…well, fun. and nice. and your laugh is pretty. and your smile is kinda cute and he (though he hates to admit it) rly likes it when u laugh because of him.

and then things start to get messy—really, he didn’t mean for it to start this way. he really was meaning to ask you in a genuine manner to see u again once the semester was finished. because he’s actually started pulling his weight—he wants u to see him for someone who’s smart. satoru is actually rly rly smart and no one knows it because he doesn’t rly show it but he is. he wants u to see that side of him—somehow there’s some sick validation he rly needs from you knowing he’s not a dense frat guy who drinks and fucks until 3 am every night. so he starts doing his parts and actually communicates with u about sections. so starts ur texting routine—sometimes a little longer than u rly need to for just doing a lab together. sometimes it’s “did u hear ab that girl in our class getting dumped in front of the kfc ??” and sometimes it’s “god our prof rly needs to get some pussy” and other times it’s “look what the guy who sits behind us just posted on his story” and it leads to a few long convos that admittedly…are rly fun. ur so fun. he likes it. he rly does like u and he thinks maybe….maybe he’s grown on u too and you know what ?? satoru’s always a jerk but ur nice and who’s to say he can’t be nice too ?? just for one person. for u, he can be a nice guy—u carried lab all on ur own long enough that u deserve it anyway.

until he gets swayed in that way only a coward can. in that way you do when ur used to being “the man” around ur friends and ur too pressured to keep up that energy for appearances sake bc u don’t wanna be the laughing stock who softened up for “some nerdy chick who’s a nobody.” so he laughs when they laugh at the fact that ur probably “still a virgin who’s never touched a guy before” and then they’re patting gojo on the back and shoving at his shoulder as they laugh harder and suggest that “y’know what would be so funny man ?? if u took her virginity. you could probably do it.”

the thought is sickening because…satoru wouldn’t want to fuck you like that. god, you have him caring about when and how he fucks you—in fact, just thinking about you lewdly makes him feel guilty. disrespectful, even. you’re more than a fleshlight for his dick. since when did he become so respectful ?? but he doesn’t know how to say no, especially when everyone starts agreeing one after the other—and oh no, now they’re betting on how quickly he can do it….and oh, now it’s not just fucking. now it’s “how long until you think she’s head over heels for you? man, that would be a sight, huh ??”

and….well, satoru decides it couldn’t hurt, right ?? he does want to be romantically involved so that would include you being head over heels. hopefully. fingers crossed. and he doesn’t rly want to seem lame in front of the guys either, so he gets to keep both sides of the coin, so is it really that bad ?? maybe not the right idea but certainly the right execution. he’ll treat you well—that much he’s confident of. so he forces out a laugh and says “gimme a month or two, you’ll see.”

and a month or two they give him. and a month or two it takes—but not for you to be head over heels. it’s him who’s utterly and completely obsessed and fallen head first and whatever else they say to describe love because wow. this must be what it is. this must be that stupid fairytale shit they always talk about because fuck, no one has ever looked at him like that. like he’s some miracle to this earth and some wonder only you know of—like you hope it stays that way and that he’s yours and yours alone and no one else comes in to take him away. satoru really likes being yours, it kinda feels better than you being his. being yours means you hold him like that at night and wake him up to a kiss between his brows and sometimes, when he gets those migraines he’s prone to getting, you always seem to know. always seem to understand when to close the blinds and keep quiet and wrap him up in the covers as you rub your thumbs over his temples soothingly.

he almost forgets about that silly little bet he made two months ago when he’s around you. actually, he forgets everything when he’s around you. he’s only ever thinking about you, you, you. when he comes back to his frat house, on the other hand, they’re all gathered around waiting for the newest details. how you must’ve been so pathetically star struck by him. how you must be embarrassingly bad at kissing. how you must stutter over every other word around him. how you must be making a complete and utter fool of urself trying to impress him and be someone you’re not bc the real you would never pique his interest.

they’re wrong ofc. if anyone’s star struck, it’s satoru bc how the hell are u so…cool ?? and so funny and witty and carefree ?? and you’re good at kissing—have him chasing your lips with a whine every time. sometimes you even chuckle at him when he does and make him blush a bit. he’s the one who stutters over his words when he sees you in your little date night outfits. sometimes he watches you drink from your straw and his brain short circuits a little until you snap at him and ask him in confusion if he’s alright. but the real kicker ?? it’s that if anyone’s pretending, it’s satoru. you’re always just you—unapologetically so, that it’s endearing and beautiful and so unearthly he wonders how he got so lucky. but him ?? he’s always acting like some guy he’s not. some chivalrous guy who opens doors and pushes out seats and kisses the back of hands and waits at least a few dates before even considering fucking. some nice, sweet, genuine guy who’s deserving.

he’s not that—never was. if you knew the real him, you’d leave in a heartbeat. it’s a scary thought. a raw feeling he doesn’t like. makes him feel all self conscious and insecure and all that weird shit he never thought he’d feel.

he tries. so hard, he tries to make them forget about that silly little bet and just slowly drop it and maybe even forget ur dating so he can just stay living this peaceful little fantasy with you—but that’s stupid. that’s naive. it’s been 4 months and enough is enough—the guys need to see the look on ur face when u realize what a fool ur being and satoru is “being a lazy ass who’s too comfortable not having for work for pussy these days.” so then there’s a video going around. it’s everyone gathered around on the couch drunk and talking about you. and satoru. you both, in fact. how it’s been two months and u seem desperate for his attention with the shrill little voice you use to call him toru, baby! it’s so, so fucking embarrassing, they say. how you think he likes it. (he does. god he does so much, it hurts. he loves it, actually, when you call him that. makes him feel special in a way he never has.) but then, the worst, most disgustingly nauseous part of the whole thing is when satoru laughs along and plays into their awful words. just lets them talk about you like you’re some piece of meat. something for him to chew up and spit out after he has a taste or you. not even worth savoring and enjoying. he laughs along and agrees—you’re nothing special and he can’t wait until he’s free of you.

that part hurts. that part sucks the most—when he acts like he didn’t tremble under your touch every time you kissed him. like he didn’t beg you to stay just five more minutes! before walking out the door to go home. he acts one way in front of you and one way in front of them and what’s worse ?? you don’t know which one is real. couldn’t tell even if your life was on the line to decide. because there’s no way he’s that good at pretending to be desperately in love, no fucking way. but there’s also no way he can be in love if he’s talking about you like that. that’s not what love is—that’s not what love feels like. that’s not what it means to someone.

you don’t know which satoru is the real one, but you know that neither is worth your time. not if he can’t stick to it.

it’s terrible thing—the way you break up. it’s messy and teary and he’s begging, he’s actually begging. he never thought he’d do that. but he doesn’t even hesitate to plead for you to hear him out. baby, please let me explain. wait, please don’t walk away—please just listen! i can explain.

he can’t explain, though when you as him to. stands there with a bitten bottom lip and teary eyes that are pleading you to just stay with him. to overlook this and just … ignore it like it’s nothing. like what he did and said was just nothing and you can shrug it off like you’re nothing too. like your feelings are nothing and so is your worth and that’s why you should just ignore the way he absolutely destroyed your pride and reputation and dignity and worse….every ounce of your love.

such deep, raw, pure love—it’s almost enough to heal every dry crack and crevice of this earth and bring it back to life.

you look at him with teary eyes and something so broken, it makes him feel like dirt beneath your feet.

“it’s embarrassing, satoru,” you hiss that night through tears, “you’re in your twenties getting a degree and you’re still just a high school bully. life’s really gonna kick you in the ass some day.”

life’s already kicking him in the ass as soon as you walk out. the air is colder. the world is dimmer. food doesn’t taste as good and fuck—there is just so much loneliness when you have no one to be yourself with. when there’s no you.

but he supposes you’re right though—he is just a bully. it’s pathetic, really. and maybe it’s for the best. maybe you don’t deserve someone who’s only ever known how to feel good because someone else doesn’t.

[gwenstacied]

Rip geto you would’ve loved mitski

If you like my art, help by reblogging ♡

[gwenstacied]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ i’m afraid that’s just the way the world works (but i think that it could work for you and me)

synopsis. suguru stumbles across two girls that need a home. somehow, one step at a time, you both find yourselves navigating parenthood

word count. 5.4k (sigh...this was supposed to be a drabble)

contents. not canon compliant at all—there are still curses, but it's literally an au where everything turns out happy LMAO, teacher! suguru, husband! suguru, fem! reader, reader is referred to as "wife" and "mommy," hints at child neglect/abuse (nanako and mimiko's backstory), yuji, nobara and megumi are the ones that save nanako and mimiko—the timeline is inaccurate bc the twins are still kids when megumi and co. are teens, single dad! satoru who raised megs and tsumiki (tsumiki is ALIVE and NOT CURSED) <3, it's just fluff tbh, it's overall healing and happy i promise

notes. yeah i am telling u i literally shoved every fix-it fic idea for jjk into one fic okay and u will all nod along and agree with it. this was supposed to be a drabble but i literally just could not shut up so now its a fic

“there are these two girls,” suguru says quietly at dinner one night, pulling you from the comfortable silence. you look up as you swallow, eyeing him as you nod carefully—nothing is ever a normal conversation when your husband is a jujutsu teacher. nothing is ever a normal conversation when you’re capable of jujutsu in general, you’ve learned that well by now.

“okay…” you say slowly, “and are they your students?” 

they must be new, if they are. you know all of suguru’s students; you know them well enough to pick birthday presents and bring what they each like from the bakery. you don’t think you know of these two—they must be new.

“no,” he breathes, “no, they’re too young for that. maybe someday,” he adds hopefully.

“maybe someday,” you agree thoughtfully.

suguru loves teaching. it’s not something he ever saw himself doing—but life is dark at one point, a constant cloud looming over his head as it screams it’s over! your youth is over.

sometimes it hits him all at once—no one was there to protect suguru’s youth, no one was there for satoru’s or nanami’s, and certainly not haibara’s. no one was there to make sure they could be kids, that the sun could still shine and chase the clouds away. 

so suguru becomes a teacher. he’s fond of the kids—and they like him too. geto sensei, they call, geto sensei, look! and then he pauses in the hall, holds back an amused chuckle before turning to face an overly enthusiastic yuji and nobara. megumi is not far behind, that disgruntled look on his face as always, but if you look closely, his eyes are soft and laced with something close to fondness.

geto sensei is a favorite—much more of a favorite than gojo sensei is, to satoru’s utter dismay. you can’t help but watch proudly sometimes, can’t help but watch how much suguru has grown as he interacts with those kids, how much he’s allowed himself to grow, how much he’s let himself try to chase the sun instead of letting the clouds convince him the light no longer exists. 

“they’re five,” suguru continues, poking the soba in front of him as he doesn’t meet your gaze. “the kids found them on a mission. in a cage.”

you know what that means instantly. you look at suguru, watching as his eyes stare numbly at the food in front of him—sometimes, you worry that suguru will once more fall victim to those bone-chilling thoughts he shares with you one night. sometimes you worry he’ll slip and fall once more and you won’t notice this time, won’t reach your fingers and grasp him at the last second. 

but he blinks, looks up and meets your eyes this time, stares into them and searches them for what he needs. he finds it, you think, because there’s light returning to them once more. 

maybe it’s hope, maybe it’s acceptance. maybe it’s neither, and he’s just happy to have you to come back to when the world gets too burdensome. you’re not sure, but you do know you’ll always be there, right where he needs you.

“what happened to them?” you ask gently, “was it their parents?”

“no,” he shakes his head, “the villagers. their parents are dead.”

it’s not new—you’ve seen it before too. children tend to notice their techniques at this age. it’s not new to hear about children with no family history of sorcerers being labeled as some type of other in the family, in the community, or in the village. 

suguru is lucky in that way—his mother and father see him as something special, something worth celebrating, something greater than they could ever hope to be. you meet them once every year, just for a few days. they love you, greeting you with kind smiles and warm hugs, pulling you inside as they get dinner ready. you visit his old room and smile as you rake your fingers over the figures on his desk and the cd’s he used to collect. his mother keeps his room in perfect condition, even after all these years. 

you remind him to call more. sometimes, he tries—just for you, he tries. it’s hard for him, you realize. sometimes suguru is guilty; sometimes, he’s haunted by what he almost did but thankfully didn’t. it’s hard to face his parents ever since, even if they’re blissfully unaware. it’s easier to love them from afar, he thinks. but you insist he calls more, so he does. sometimes hearing his mother’s voice is what he needs, even if he doesn’t like to admit it.

“so…what’ll happen to them?” you ask quietly. 

“they’re at the school for tonight,” he mumbles, “there’s enough bedrooms, anyway. but…”

but they can’t stay there forever, is what he wants to say, you know that. staying at jujutsu high is hardly enough for children so young. they need a proper home, a proper family. you can’t help but stare down at your own bowl of soba. it’s hard to watch children suffer like this. it’s especially hard on suguru—he chose to teach to help those kids, to be there. somethings, however, cannot be fixed by simply being there.

“and then what will happen after?”

“they need a home,” he says quietly, “and…listen, i know we never really…we’ve never discussed something like this. but…maybe for a while, just until something better is decided, we could…”

you know what he’s trying to say before he can even say it—you and suguru have never discussed children. you don’t think you ever really want to, and you’re fairly certain he feels the same. it’s hard to lose haibara when you’re just a young kid, hard to live with the fact that someone so young and hopeful about the world is here one second and then gone the next. you see nanami sometimes—he’s kind to you, greets you politely, and asks how you are. but nothing about him has ever been the same since that day.

will your children meet the same fate? will you have them one second and lose them the next? will you patiently wait for them to come to visit the next chance they get from school, only to get a phone call no parent deserves to hear? they’re common in the jujutsu world. it’s a risk every parent has to take. some are selfish—rightfully so. some don’t care to let their children master their techniques, arguing it’s better to have a child that’s incapable and alive than gifted and dead. what if your children end up like nanami? the one who manages to live but can never accept the fact, not when someone else is dead. how will you be a pillar of strength? how can you tell them it’s okay to live as long as it’s not them who’s dead? how can you help them grieve when you are always grieving yourself?

you don’t think you ever want children, and you think you’re right in your assumption that suguru agrees. 

but those girls need a home, and you know the look on suguru’s face means options are limited—scarily so. you look at him for a while, look at him and see the way he’s got his heart set on these two girls—suguru has lost more than you ever could, and if this is something he thinks he should do, you think it might be worth a chance.

“bring them for dinner tomorrow,” you say finally, bringing soba to your lips, “i’d like to meet them.”

it’s not a straight answer, but it’s a start. suguru nods, smiling gently at you before he continues with his own dinner. it’s silent after that, but it’s not uncomfortable. he still steals your last bite of soba at the end, and you still roll your eyes and let him. you wash the dishes together after that, argue over whose turn it is to rinse and whose turn it is to dry—it’s routine, and you’re grateful you have something to look forward to in this cruel world, something you can count on regularly.

—————

hasaba nanako and hasaba mimiko. 

those are their names. megumi says so when he first brings them to suguru. nanako is blonde, a bit bolder than mimiko, who’s brunette. nanako is older by five minutes, and she likes to remind everyone when she can. mimiko holds nanako’s hand when she’s nervous, and nanako squeezes tightly with a smile. they’re a mellow pair, despite it all. a little distrusting and a little nervous when too many people are in a room at once.

they take a liking to suguru, however. satoru is a bit too loud and boisterous for them, but suguru is kind and soft and gives them gentle head pats when they cooperate and answer his questions. on the way home, he asks them if they’d like something from the bakery.

it leaves them a bit quiet, right until he looks over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow as he awaits their answer.

“we’ve never been to one,” nanako answers quietly, the first to speak between the two, as always.

“is that so?” suguru asks gently. they nod, still holding hands.

children of five summers, and they have never picked out a cake for even a birthday—he wonders why that is. they shouldn't have shown signs of having cursed techniques so young, there should be no reason to mistreat them so early on—the conclusion he comes to makes him even unhappier. parents should never have children if they aren’t willing to love them, he thinks bitterly.

“it’s alright,” mimiko says finally, “we don’t need—”

“come on then,” suguru grabs nanako’s free hand, gently pulling them both along the busy streets of tokyo, “my wife’s favorite bakery is around the corner. we’ve tried everything they have by now, so you’ll have to tell us what’s your favorite, yeah?”

it’s nanako who answers again first, nodding slowly before she smiles hopefully. “okay,” she murmurs. 

from the corner of his eyes, suguru notices mimiko gently pull her hand from her sister’s, quickly taking a few steps as she walks across in front of him before promptly finding herself on his other side. her hand reaches for his—it’s slow, a bit unsure, so he grabs it delicately, giving a small squeeze as he grins down at her.

“wait until you try the strawberry cake,” he hums, “that’s my favorite.”

—————

suguru comes home with two small girls on either side of him and more bags than you can count from the bakery just five minutes from your apartment. you blink before rushing over and taking a few bags from his hands.

“did you just buy one of everything or something?” you ask incredulously, staring at all the boxes of goods within the bags. 

he grins that closed-eye smile of his, crinkles forming in the corners as he says, “well, of course,” like it’s the most normal thing ever to buy one of every item in a large bakery in the heart of tokyo. “the girls have never been to a bakery before so i thought we could let them try everything and rank them.”

you look down at the girls, who stare at you nervously as they cling to each other. instantly, as soon as you meet their eyes, you can’t help but drop down to your knees to meet their level as you smile softly. 

“why hello there,” you murmur, ruffling each head gently. they like that—suguru texted you that earlier, that they seem to brighten considerably when he offers them a gentle pat on the head in affection. “what are your names?”

“i’m nanako,” the blonde one answers instantly—suguru is equal parts shocked and equal parts pleased by her new air of confidence. he wonders if she’d be a bright and energetic child right about now, if the world hadn’t crushed her under and forced her to live meekly. “and i’m older by five minutes.”

“hello nanako, the eldest by five minutes,” you answer seriously, nodding as though it’s a crucial fact to her identity, “it’s a pleasure to meet you. and what about you?” 

the brunette clutches her sister’s hand a little tighter—but nanako seems to have deemed you as safe. anyone geto sensei (as the other kids seem to call him) trusts is someone they don’t have to be on guard around. she nudges mimiko gently, encouraging her to tell you her name.

“i’m mimiko,” she says quietly. she seems to be holding a small, pink stuffed toy. it’s seen better days, you think, but a nice wash and a few stitches to the top of its head should have it looking quite a lot better. 

“and hello to you too, mimiko,” you smile, “are you younger by five minutes, then?”

she giggles a little at that before nodding, “i am,” she assures, “but i’m smarter.”

“are not!” nanako says instantly, gasping. you and suguru share a look, amused and fond and relieved all at once.

“what a lovely toy,” you murmur, tracing the eyes with your finger. she droops a little at that—like being reminded of its condition is something that breaks her spirit.

“it’s ripped,” she mumbles, “it wasn’t before.”

“i can fix it,” you offer, “suguru is always ripping his uniforms, but lucky for him, his sweet little wife here is a fixer-upper.”

“really?” she brightens. you nod, chuckling as you ruffle her hair, doing the same to nanako, too, when she eyes you hopefully from the side. 

“that sounds great,” suguru interrupts, “but i believe i have cakes that need to be tried and mouths that are not trying.”

you rise, rolling your eyes and standing next to him, and his hand gently grabs yours. thank you, he squeezes. always, you squeeze back.

“well, come on, girls,” you usher. mimiko grabs your free hand, and suguru grabs nanako’s—you all make your way to the dinner table. it feels oddly natural, you think. “we have desserts to try. the chocolate one will definitely be your favorite, i can feel it.”

“it’ll be strawberry,” suguru says confidently. 

you meet his gaze, grinning at him as he stares at you hopelessly in love. it’s always been enough, you and suguru—it’s always been more than enough with just the two of you. so enough, that you never wanted more. but this is nice too, you think. this is something you could get used to, even if it breaks the routine you’ve learned to love just a bit.

—————

nanako and mimiko stay at your house that night, and somehow, that turns into a week. sometimes, suguru takes them with him to school, just to handle a few things that are still to be taken care of regarding their case. you find you miss three instead of one while you’re home alone for the day. 

they return cheery each time, bags of deserts in hand and a newfound glow in their eyes. mimiko’s toy is much cleaner now, and the small rips have been carefully sewn shut by you from the first night they spend. she clutches it everywhere she goes, hugs it in her sleep too. it’s hopelessly endearing. 

nanako takes a liking to suguru’s phone—he’s a bit too giving with her, you think. she’s managed to figure out his passcode rather quickly, and he lets her get away with it, watching her small fingers work the buttons of whatever game she's downloaded with a gentle look of affection over his features. 

on the days that suguru goes to school alone, the girls are left in your care for the day—you don’t usually have someone to keep you company while you’re at home. you’ve quit being a sorcerer long ago, deciding that it’s not worth the constant back-and-forth tug of war with life and death. 

perhaps it's selfish—people are dying every day, and you sit and let it happen, but you can’t help it. it’s too much, sometimes. suguru has always supported it, though, has always murmured that you’re doing the right thing and that sorcerers deserve quiet, peaceful lives, too, if they wish. so you do just that, stay home and learn a new dish or two through the day, watch a few shitty sitcoms on the television, leave and do some grocery shopping for the week, and return home to your quiet little apartment (as quiet as an apartment can get in tokyo, that is) and wait for your husband to come home. 

suguru comes home by seven pm every day and gives you a soft kiss on your forehead as he says, hello, wife, to which you giggle and murmur, hi there, husband. you have dinner after that and share details about your days with each other. yuji and nobara are arguing again, suguru will tell you sometimes, i think nobara will cave and talk first this time, though. i brought fresh strawberries from the season’s harvest, you murmur behind a glass of water to your lips, got them just for you, sugu.

it’s been a routine like that ever since your marriage. you marry suguru quietly when you barely turn twenty, just a room full of the few people you dare let yourself love and the two of you as you sign the papers and share a kiss. there’s an extravagant meal waiting for you after, though, courtesy of gojo satoru, a man with more money than he could hope to use on himself. satoru is happy that day—happier than you’ve ever seen him in a long, long while. he takes his bandages off, sits and watches everything, and takes it all in even if it’ll bite him back in the ass later with a long, pounding migraine. 

today, however, is a saturday—school is out, and anyone who doesn’t have a mission is free to have the day to themselves. suguru hasn’t taken a large mission in ages, years, even. he accepts small ones here and there, and if it really calls for it, he joins a tough one with his students—but it’s for their sake more than anything. but the big ones are too much for him to handle regularly anymore. the higher-ups aren’t happy—special-grade sorcerers are hard to come by, and it’s unfair that the lower-grade ones are busting their necks out there more than he is. but suguru deserves a semblance of control over his well-being, and with satoru on his side, there isn’t much of anything the higher-ups can really do.

he sits on the couch, scrolling through his phone as you click the remote, finding something to watch. 

“you know, we should really talk about this,” suguru mumbles from the side. it’s early, still. barely eight am, and the girls are still sleeping. they’ll be up soon—and with that, will be gone any moment for you and suguru to share a private moment.

they didn’t warn you about that part of kids—you knew it was a busy job, watching over them, but you figured leaving them to play for a bit would grant you some peace. you and suguru quickly learn that children, no matter how well-behaved and disciplined, always need a watchful eye on them. 

“talk about what?” you yawn, “it’s too early for you to speak in codes.”

“the girls,” he says, unimpressed. oh. right.

“what about them?” you say, dancing around the edge of the real issue. he sees right through you—you know he will. still, you’re petulant enough to try and dodge the topic anyway.

“it’s been a week,” he says seriously, “those kids think this is their new home. it’s cruel to make them think that any longer if we don’t…”

keep them. let them stay. let them become a part of this home and, by extension, this family that has always just been you and suguru. raise them. take them in. take responsibility over them. love them. 

can you love? like that, at least? are you meant to be a mother? you’re too selfish, you think—you couldn’t even stay fighting curses for long, too weak to care about those who need you, and too focused on needing yourself. can you handle two children? if you do this, you can’t do anything else but do it right—it’s what they deserve. but you don’t know if you can give them what they deserve.

but there aren’t many better options either, you remind yourself. 

suguru seems to know what you’re thinking because he murmurs, “i think it’s easier to raise children than be a sorcerer,” he says quietly. 

you raise an eyebrow skeptically. “you can walk away from being a sorcerer, suguru. being a parent is for life.”

“being a parent means you get to love,” he reasons, “unconditionally. without regrets. without a contract, you know? loving a sorcerer is just betting how long someone has left to live, at the end of the day.”

“how morbid of you,” you snort.

“they’re good kids,” he says quietly, “great, even.”

“they’re lovely,” you agree. and then, quieter this time, “i…i would miss them. more than i care to admit.”

“me too,” he nods. 

your head falls to his chest, and he presses a kiss to your head, wrapping his arms around you. suguru has always loved you—when the world was not worth loving, and the people were not worth saving, suguru had loved you. he still does. and the way you love him is enough to make all of those things change. the world has a little more hope, and the people are a little less ugly when you’re there to prove not everything is bad. that even where the bad exists, the good can follow. as long as he has you, suguru is complete—but he thinks more is not always so bad.

“suguru?” you ask gently. he hums, rubbing a thumb over your knuckles as he squeezes your hand, “we won’t force them,” you say firmly, “to do anything. they should exist as themselves if they want to. cursed techniques or not.”

he smiles. you don’t see it, and you don’t have to. you know it’s that deep, eye-crinkling smile that’s heartfelt and real. 

“no, we won’t force them,” he agrees, “they’re perfect as is.”

—————

the girls are given the option to each get the two spare rooms you and suguru have in your apartment. that leaves ultimately no guest room, but you think they deserve to have their own space and be their own people after everything. but, as you and he had expected, they choose to share a room and stay together.

you’ll never forget the looks on their faces when they realize they’re staying here permanently, the look of pure excitement and the slightest hints of shock—you never realized how fulfilling it could be to make two children smile like that. 

“we can’t paint the walls,” you hum, “we don’t own this place. but we can still decorate,” you offer. 

they don’t seem all that disappointed about not being able to paint their walls—instead, they’re too excited about their beds, giggling as they jump on the mattress. suguru wants to tell them that jumping on mattresses is bad for the springs, but you stop him—they deserve to be kids for a bit. after that, you’ll teach them. but for now, they deserve to just be kids.

“can we get lights?” nanako asks—now that you and suguru are guardians to two children (parents seems…a bit too overwhelming to use right now), spontaneous dates don’t happen one on one anymore. evidently, it’s hard to find babysitters on the spot, and leaving them home alone is not an option, so you decide to simply bring them along on your weekly sunday afternoon cafe visit. nanako takes a liking to the lights on the walls, and mimiko eats three slices of cake. 

you can’t wait to bring them next week, too. 

“you sure can,” suguru hums, chuckling. 

“and a mirror?”

“of course,” you nod, “you’ll certainly need one to make sure the beauty sleep works.”

nanako giggles, flopping onto the bed, and mimiko sits not long after, still hugging that toy to her chest as she looks around the room in wonder. they’ve been sleeping in it for over a week now, but now that they can officially call it their own, they seem to be much more attached.

“i want pink sheets,” nanako hums.

“i want blue,” mimiko mumbles, looking at you shyly. 

“well,” suguru murmurs so that only you can hear, “maybe we can get them two beds. smaller one—they’ll fit on either side.”

“and what do we do with this one, then?” you raise a brow.

“we…sell it?”

“suguru, are you trying to drain every last bit of our savings?”

“we have plenty,” he chuckles, “we don’t ever do anything.” 

that much is true—you and suguru hardly leave tokyo let alone japan, and though you let yourselves splurge on nice things, there isn’t much to spend on between two people. but the last few days have really put into perspective how…expensive raising children can be. clothing and school supplies (they’ll attend a normal school) and room decor and snacks, and anything else children require to be children is quite denting to bank accounts. 

but you and suguru can’t say you mind—and if nanako and mimiko want pink and blue sheets, well…you think you can make that happen.

“i think we’re spoiling them,” you mumble, “should we be doing that?”

he wraps an arm around you and pulls you against his chest as his nose presses to the top of your head when he kisses it. he’s warm, just like he always is—maybe warmer now, in fact. 

“nah,” he grins, “i think we’re doing great.”

—————

the girls take their time to warm up to satoru, but when they finally do, he seems to be a favorite. satoru is very proud of this fact—he’s not a lot of children’s favorite…well, maybe yuji’s perhaps, but you don’t think yuji has a single bone in his body that could really dislike anyone. or rank them, to be quite honest—you don’t think he prefers satoru or suguru over the other.

“oh, kids,” satoru calls, stepping into your apartment and letting himself in. you and suguru are in the middle of making dinner, looking back in shock from the kitchen as satoru waves enthusiastically at you both.

“satoru, how did you even get in?” you ask, raising an eyebrow. he grins, practically giggling as he points to your husband.

“suguru gave me a key.”

“what?” suguru sputters, “no, i didn’t!”

“you let me borrow them,” satoru concedes—that’s still not even anywhere near the truth.

“i left them at your place and kindly asked you to bring them to me at work the next day,” suguru corrects, crossing his arms and looking thoroughly unimpressed.

“yes, and i did what you should have done a long time ago and made myself a copy,” satoru huffs, “i’m the best friend! i deserve a key—”

“gojo sensei!” the girls call. 

as most kids do, they pick up what they hear around them. everyone seems to refer to satoru and suguru as gojo sensei and geto sensei. they’re not students, but nanako and mimiko both pick up on the habit too—and it’s helplessly adorable, you can’t deny.

sometimes, you want to correct them, but they seem excited to see satoru, so you let the moment pass.

“there they are!” satoru beams, taking his blindfold off and crouching down to meet them in the eye—nanako and mimiko seem to find satoru infinitely more approachable when his eyes are out and easy to look into. you can’t imagine why—he looks like a creep. “i brought dessert! because what’s life without something sweet, right? are these two feeding you girls the sugar you need to grow into tall, healthy young women?”

“this is why you should never be allowed near children,” you say flatly. 

satoru looks at you with a pointed look, “i practically raised megumi and tsumiki, y’know. saving young siblings and giving them a nice home life is old news, i already did that. be more original, please.”

what a jackass—you scowl at him, throwing the wooden spoon in your hand at his head and watching as it doesn’t even touch him and falls to the floor. curse his infinity.

“okay, now,” suguru chuckles, “i don’t want to spend the evening looking after four children instead of two—”

“geto sensei! thanks for having us over for dinner,” yuji interrupts, stepping through the door that satoru took such great care not to close, “fushiguro was a bit of a hassle to convince, though.”

suguru throws a sharp glare at satoru as soon as three of their students step into your home—you’re going to have to forget the dinner you’re making and order takeout, you think. satoru will pay.

“this is why you didn’t get a key,” suguru hisses, “because then you act like you own the place.”

“i wanted a family gathering,” satoru gasps, “tsumiki is coming too! wait for her.”

despite the way suguru grabs satoru’s hair—and satoru, for some reason, turns off his infinity and lets him—you notice the corners of your husband’s mouth twitching into a gentle smile, and you know he’s thinking the same thing as you. family—nanako and mimiko are here, and so are yuji, and nobara, and megumi, and satoru (the biggest headache), and soon, tsumiki too. 

family—yes, this is family, you think.

—————

“daddy, i’m hungry,” mimiko tugs on suguru’s sleeve.

“i know, pumpkin, just give me a second and—”

“daddy, look! i beat the high score on my game and—”

“daddy is looking, sweetie, just give me one minute, nanako, yeah? daddy will look and—”

“wow,” satoru chuckles, grinning amused, “you’re really worn thin.”

“satoru,” suguru grumbles, “if you’re not going to help, then please leave.”

nanako and mimiko are seven now. in two years, their personalities have really blossomed—something which you and suguru are very grateful for. the world should not crush children so young that they don’t get to be the children they are meant to be. you and suguru take great care to make sure they know they can be kids. 

and they are—they whine about bedtime and pick at their vegetables and point at everything in the store and plead for something new. they’re children—your children, and you can’t help but love them unconditionally so.

“well, welcome to fatherhood,” suguru snaps, trying his best to make lunch and entertain the two girls waiting for his attention. 

suguru is a good father—a gentle one, in fact. he comes home every day from work and grins, asking in that smooth voice of his, where are my ladies? and just like that, you and your two girls meet him with excited grins. you peck his lips before he crouches down and pulls two small bodies against his chest, letting their tiny arms wrap around his neck as he hoists them up.

it’s a perfect little routine, one you cherish greatly. but the girls are getting older, and soon, they’ll be too heavy to carry like this. it makes you a little sad to think about—but if there’s one thing you’ve learned, breaking routine isn’t always so bad. soon there will be a new one, and when you outgrow that, another new one, and so on.

what won’t ever change is the way you love suguru, and he loves you, and you both love your daughters, and they love you both too. 

“daddy,” nanako calls, “where’s mommy?”

“at the store, nanako,” he says patiently, sighing. this is the fifth time she’s asked.

“when will she be back?”

“soon, nanako,” he smiles assuringly, “at least, i hope so,” he adds quietly, under his breath.

satoru hears, though—and he cackles, heinously loud, too, as he watches the scene unfold in amusement. but satoru is suguru’s best friend, and yours too. and the girls love him. he’s family—and so are their students. 

it’s nice, suguru thinks, it’s nice to have something worth smiling for.

“i’m home!” you call, “is satoru here? because the door was unlocked—”

“mommy!” the girls call, cutting you off with the pitter-patter of small, excited little feet hitting the ground and greeting you. 

“why hello,” you gasp excitedly, laughing as they tackle you in a hug.

you and suguru share a smile as he looks back—family, it’s what you’ve both built here. it’s slow at first, and sometimes it wasn’t easy. at one point, it was just the two of you, just you and suguru, and that was okay. you didn’t think you would ever be capable of letting it be more—but it’s nice when it grows, you think. maybe one day, you can dare to hope to grow it some more.

the scene were they got 2 beds—that was me and my sister when we first moved into our weeeee lil apartment back when i was in middle school !! we were bummed bc we couldn't paint the walls but our parents let us have 2 beds so we could pick our sheets !! it was a fond memory LOL but now i DO have a room where i painted the color except i HATE the color now bc i was still in middle school when we moved into our house and got to pick colors and middle school me and adult me are soooo different so now i have a teal bedroom that haunts me

[gwenstacied]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。PRINCESS — GETO SUGURU.

contents. non curse! au, dad! suguru, mom + fem! reader, reader is referred to as “mommy” and “wife,” life with your daughters nanako and mimiko <3, embarrassingly self-indulgent once again

suguru is prideful—you have to hold back a giggle as he gives you a short glare, unwilling to back down.

“it looks good,” he grumbles. you’re not sure if he’s trying to convince you or himself. “it’s great. stop being a jerk. the girls worked hard.”

“of course,” you nod, biting back a grin, “you look lovely. your hair’s never been better.”

“i can hear the laughter in your voice,” he accuses.

“i’m not laughing!”

he raises a brow, and you can’t help it. you giggle. his hair is positively ruined—there are knots and tangles and clips everywhere. you don’t know where one nest of hair starts and where the other ends. everything is everywhere at once and suguru….well, suguru is trying to convince himself this is okay.

it’s for his girls, he reminds himself—anything for his girls.

“you just laughed,” he mutters, looking into the mirror. his eyes are alarmed, but for pride’s sake, he throws on a carefree look as he shrugs. “i look like their princess. they said so themselves.”

“well, i’ll give you a point for sweetest dad ever,” you hum, pulling out a loose clip. “but i deduct five points for falling asleep on watch duty.”

you come home from work and find a sleeping suguru at the foot of the couch with two toddlers hunched over his shoulders, working diligently at his hair. it’s cute—the way he looks as he sleeps peacefully, the way they look as they giggle and twist strands of dark hair with their small fingers. it’s heartwarming and makes you want to keep the moment frozen for just a bit longer.

but then you realize that irresponsibly, suguru has fallen asleep with two toddlers in the house—one of which (you eye a certain blonde) is a bit of a troublemaker.

“negative four?” he gasps, wounded.

“negative four,” you affirm, shaking your head in disappointment.

“i couldn’t help it,” he pouts, “it’s soothing having two sets of hands play with your hair.”

“well, good luck getting this mess out of your hair,” you chuckle, turning to step out of the bathroom—but suguru is quick. his hand snatches your wrist as soon as you take a step.

“hang on,” he tugs, pulling you back in, “you’ve gotta help me with this.”

“i thought you said it was fine,” you raise a brow, “it shouldn’t be much trouble.”

“i haven’t see you all day,” he insists, “can’t i have a relaxing shower with my wife as she washes my hair?”

“i showered this morning. see you after yours though—”

“okay fine,” he deflates, rolling his eyes as he looks off to the side, “this is….gonna take a while to fix.”

you grin victoriously. suguru grumbles under his breath.

“alright,” you poke his cheek with a satisfied smirk, “i’ll help you. if you say pretty please.”

——————

“daddy you changed your hair,” nanako whines in despair as soon as suguru steps out of the bathroom. you stifle a giggle as he looks down at her in alarm.

“sweetheart, daddy just had to shower and—”

“maybe he didn’t like it,” mimiko mumbles quietly from the side. her voice is glum—and like the doting mother you are, your smile drops as you feel your heart ache.

“what? that’s not true!” suguru sputters, “i loved it! mommy loved it too, right?”

the two girls turn to look at you—and because you have long realized that motherhood is the gracefulness of putting your children’s feelings above all else, even if it means lying straight through your teeth, you nod with exaggerated vigor.

“of course!” you say enthusiastically, “it was so unique! i’ve never seen daddy look so….pretty.”

suguru shoots you an unimpressed look as you bite your lip in amusement.

“he was a princess!” nanako brightens, a happy smile erupting over her lips. suguru grins as he melts, pinching the soft flesh of her cheek gently with a low hum.

“i was,” he nods, “wasn’t i beautiful?”

“oh, yeah,” you snort, “way too beautiful—you might dethrone me.”

“mommy we can make you a princess too—”

“who wants dinner?” you cut mimiko off quickly, smiling through the panic, “i bet everyone’s hungry!”

“me!” nanako raises her hand enthusiastically and you sigh in relief—crisis successfully averted. but only for now, you suppose. the devious look suguru gives you tells you this won’t be the last time the suggestion is offered to you.

“what a shame,” suguru sighs dramatically, “i wanted to see you all dolled up. maybe next time.”

and then he reaches down and pulls both girls into his arms, filling the room with giggles as he nibbles on their cheeks affectionately and saunters off to the dinner table. you can’t help but smile softly as you watch his retreating figure—suguru was made for fatherhood, you think, he fills the role so effortlessly.

and then….you hear a thump and a hissed curse under his breath in the distance.

“mommy, daddy said a bad word!” nanako calls, earning a panicked no i didn’t! from your husband. “now he’s lying,” she adds.

well….no one said he was perfect.

i just know nanako is simultaneously a daddy’s girl who also rats him out and tattles 24/7 bc she thinks it’s funny when he gets in trouble

[gwenstacied]

✷ ITOSHI RIN x reader. fluff, established relationship. reader talks a lot and rin listens. this is actually pointless. warnings: the writing is kinda messy, i think. note: i just really think that rin <3 ! sorry if there's typos.

"shut up."

rin probably says these two words to you more than he says 'i love you'.

yet, he really, really does not want you to shut up.

it's been twenty minutes since you came from your dinner with your friend. twenty whole minutes of you rambling. twenty whole minutes of rin lying in bed, his arms feeling empty since you're too busy turned away from him as you change into more comfortable clothes. twenty whole minutes of him having to listen to your friend's husband's family's problems while his eyes stay locked on you as you throw on one of his shirts and then start removing your make up.

and again, he really, really does not want you to shut up.

but he would really prefer holding you while you ramble, and the fact that it's been twenty minutes and he hasn't even gotten a kiss yet is kind of starting to get to him.

"so anyway, she's basically hated by everyone from his side of the family— and i told her over and over that she should talk to him about it, but she just won't listen to me. god, why am i blessed with such stubborn friends?"

at this point, he feels like he's skipped eight chapters.

and yet he still listens, humming thoughtfully as he shifts in bed a little, pulling the covers over him just a bit more as he sighs in defeat, staring up at the ceiling as he mumbles, giving his own opinion. "shouldn't pressure her into it, though."

you groan, giving him a look as you still stand in front of the mirror while doing your skincare now. "i'm not, i swear! those people suck. she shouldn't be letting them do what they want and i'm sure that her husband would do something if he knew how salty they are."

his eyes go from the ceiling to you, blinking sleepily as he stares at the way his shirt looks on you. "when are you coming to bed?"

"almost done, rinnie."

he yawns quietly, turning around so that his back is to you. if he couldn't hold you yet, he could at least listen to your voice. "then does she really plan to just endure that treatment?" his voice is muffled by the pillow as he asks, setting you off on another talking spree.

"i guess she does. i hope everything goes well for her. but personally, i would not tolerate stuff like that." you say, shrugging as you finally finish your business, before going into the bathroom to wash your hands and brush your teeth.

the few minutes of you being gone and quiet make rin feel as miserable as ever.

he waits and waits, eyelids heavy.

when the mattress finally dips next to him and he smells the familiar scent of your skin products, he swears he's never moved this fast to turn around in bed and latch onto you.

you chuckle as he buries his face into your neck, holding him close as your little giggle turns into a quiet laugh when he groans in annoyance. "you took too damn long."

his hair tickles the side of your face. it's getting longer, you realise as you play with it gently, smoothing over some soft strands on the back of his head while he sighs softly into your skin.

"i talked a lot earlier, didn't i?" you ask quietly, your lips curling into a sheepish smile.

rin stays quiet for some time, his arms around you tight and firm as he presses himself against your side, even going as far as to place his muscular leg over you, caging you in against the soft mattress of the bed. "y'know i don't mind that."

"yeah, but im sure there's a limit—"

"there's no limit when it comes to you. 'kay?" he says quietly, his voice groggy and deeper now as he gets closer to drifting off— almost as if he was ending that discussion right there, not wanting to hear you talking about yourself in such a way.

"yeah, but—"

"shut up." he cuts you off, and you stop talking, only to let out another soft laugh. "if you're gonna complain about yourself, that is. now, more sleeping and less talking. i'll listen to the remaining part of your friend's story during breakfast tomorrow."

you snort at his devotion to listening to your silly stories, a slight wave of warmth creeping up your neck. "fine."

he nods a little, before holding you tighter.

"and i didn't get a single kiss from you ever since you came, by the way."

"oh, i am so sorry. my most sincere apologies." you speak, clearly joking as you shower him with light pecks on the side of his face that's peeking out from the crook of your neck.

he grunts, not being able to hide the redness under his warm skin as he feels your soft lips. his eyes stay closed shut. "ok. good night."

"no 'i love you' or anything?"

he sighs heavily. "shut up."

"...and i love you." he adds, before letting himself relax into his sleep when you let out a satisfied sound and say it back to him sweetly, your soft voice partially responsible for putting him to sleep.

[gwenstacied]

ACT FOOL, ACT FOOL, ACT FOOL

in which nagi can't tell if you or the pocky stick in between you lip is more of a pain -fluff, not proofread heh, kinda ooc but whatever

it had a been a hot day and the last thing nagi wanted to do was play soccer - or anything for that matter, he could only dream of never needing to move again. as most of his classmates start filing out of the classroom, hes still sitting at his desk, hoping that reo doesn't show up anytime soon so he could enjoy the air conditioned classroom a little longer. just when he thought he was the only one left, he starts hearing snapping behind him, as if someone was breaking pencils one at time.

when he turns around, his eyes meet your figure, leaning back against your chair. one hand held your phone scrolling through tiktok and the other holding a snack, specifically a pocky stick.

as you're clearly in your own world, he finds himself disturbed by the way you eat your pocky, breaking the sticks into halves until it was too small to be broken instead of just chewing it down like most people. it's less efficient and is quite noisy. as he's navigating his initial distaste, a new thought enters his mind - if the pocky or your lips would be sweeter. the new debate sends his mind in whirl, using way to much of his brain power. he sighs and buries himself back into his arms, nose brushing the top of his desk as he's regretting the silly idea.

"oh! y/n! you're still here?"

both you and nagi dart your head at the familiar voice, both confused, nagi as to why reo is calling your name and not his, and you, unsure as to who could possibly be calling your name at this time.

"oh hi reo," you smiled back, pocky still in between your teeth. "i don't think i'll make it to the train station in this heat without mentally preparing myself."

"well, good thing you don't have to play soccer in this weather like this one," reo grins and he slams his arm around his best friend's shoulder. "are you ready my treasure?"

"still a wild concept" you snorted, and nagi doesn't miss snap that pocky makes when you bite into it again. "i can't believe you're still playing."

sure, nagi was talented, but he lacked drive, passion and any form of motivation. you question if he even finds it enjoyable, but at the same time, did any thing really give him joy?

the direct eye contact you make with him is brief. he sees the soft glint in your eyes, playful and inviting. he isn't someone who feels overwhelmed normally, but right now his chest slightly tightening at the locked gaze is definitely making him feel something. he can feel his own eyes reacting to yours, dilating at your amusement. before you can react, you're both quickly interrupted.

"just watch us!" reo grins with his other hand pumping into the air, cheeks squeezing against nagi's scrunched face. "the world cup is going to be ours!

reo has always been so head strong and as much it has always been something that you admired about, even if others though he was being absolutely ridiculous, it only confuses you more as to why he picked nagi.

you only chuckle as you break another pocky, making nagi wiggle his nose in confused irritation. why did it bother him so much? was it the way you basically caught the piece with only your tongue? maybe it was the way your lips pursed so neatly around it? or was it just the cracking sound it made?

"yea yea," you nonchalantly add, "looking forward to my all expense paid trip to the future world cup!"

and as you wave the pocky in their faces with the biggest brightest smile on your face, nagi swears he sees the same light that shines on his little cactus choki every morning. he can't help but stare.

but his lingering eyes go unnoticed as reo walks towards the door, taking a quick stop by your desk. he fishes for a few pocky sticks, thanking you for the preworkout treat.

"nagi! let's go before the team gets mad, but i guess no one gets mad at the star players huh?"

he shoves his bag over his shoulder, not caring about reo's constant gnawing of the sticks, even if he was eating it the "correct way."

as he's walking past you, he's unconsciously watching your lips again, the pocky being so distracting. your eyes shift between his and the pouch of sweets in your hand. puzzled, he pauses in front of you, wordlessly questioning your intentions with a tilt of his head.

"did you want a preworkout snack too?" you ask, pulling out a stick for him. your eyes lock again, as if your orbs somehow trapped him in is place.

"sure," he's always been frank with his words. with his hands comfortably shoved in his pockets, he tilts his flexible body sideways, eyelashes fluttering right in front of yours as he bites off the half piece of pocky stick right from your fingers. your ears ring with only the sound of your heart beat and the very clean and clear snap of the pocky.

your jaw can't help but drop a little, staring blankly as if he had just ripped the bag from your hands and threw the leftover sticks in your face. you can't tell if your in shock because of the proximity of his face or if your upset he took the best part of the pocky, leaving you with just the plain, non-chocolate coated cracker. but before you can even say anything, his back is already facing away from, meeting reo at the door.

"thanks." he doesn't fully face you, opting for a a slight look over his shoulder, only seeing the small glint in his eyes as he shifts his perfectly functioning hands onto the back of his neck. "see you later."

and as he and reo finally exit the room, all you could hear was your tiktok, unpaused and stuck on the same sound as you hide your flushed face in your fingers.

act fool, act fool, act fool.

bonus:

as reo is dragging him away, nagi cannot understand why he is still annoyed. he got the tempting snack and is nibbling it down the correct and most efficient way. he wonders if taking the stick directly from your soft lips instead of your hands would've satisfied his cravings instead.

[gwenstacied]

# lipgloss love 💖

"is it too short?" you ask nervously, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your skirt as you tug it down a bit.

itoshi rin must be unwell, there's no other explanation. he must be, because his girlfriend is standing in front of him with a skirt on, you barely wear skirts, and all he can think about is why you aren't wearing any lip gloss.

"whe–

you cut him off before he can get the words out. "you're right, i don't know what i was thinking with the skirt. pants! i'll just wear pants." you murmur before going to rummage through your closet.

you're out of the skirt and pulling a pair of pants up your thighs before he can even blink.

it didn't make sense. you have the rest of your make up on, even something pretty colored on your lips that makes them matte and not glossy like your lipgloss would. are you going to put the lipgloss on top of that? sometimes, especially in a hurry, you're smearing the tube (or applicator, it depends on which gloss you use) against your lips as you tumble out the door.

rin loves when you wear lipgloss. he pretends to be apathetic when you're covering his face in sticky kisses, but truly he loves you and your sticky kisses. he likes that he can feel them against his skin for the rest of the day, and lick them off his own lips in a fun little game of guess the flavor. you always wear lipgloss.

so why don't you have any on right now?

he watches you spin around in the pants a few times before you're pushing them off. "ughh! stupid pants make my butt look huge," you grumble, "rin! can you help me here? what am i supposed to wear?!"

"where's your lipgloss? why aren't you wearing any?"

the questions are enough to stop you in your tracks.

"my lipgloss?" you repeat incredulously, "i'm having a breakdown over what to wear for dinner at your parents and you're worried about my lipgloss?"

"you always wear lipgloss." he states, as if that should clear away any confusion.

"rin, sweetheart, we're having dinner with your parents. forgive me for wanting to look put together and wearing lipstick." you reply, tossing the pants in your hands back into your closet.

he turns away without a response, so you think the conversation has ended there going back to your task of finding an appropriate dinner outfit. you, however, are mistaken when your boyfriend returns and takes your wrist to lead you to sit at the edge of your bed.

he has your make up wipes in one hand and a tube of lipgloss in the one that just held your wrist. you stare up at him in mild surprise.

"you always look put together," he says, pulling a wipe out of the package, "and my parents don't care what you wear to dinner." he continues, tilting your chin up gently and smearing your lipstick away.

all you can do is stare at him, not daring to say anything. one, because you don't have anything to say, and two, your lips were occupied.

he sets the package of wipes down, the used one laid across the top, before he brings the tube of gloss to your mouth. he over-does the bottom lip and under-does the top one, but you can't complain.

"there. much better." he says, twisting the cap back on the tube.

you throw your arms around him before he can get too far away and press your lips against his in a kiss that makes you dizzy. you think you must look ridiculous, kissing your boyfriend in your panties and a fancy top with a mouth covered in lipgloss.

"you used way too much." is all you say when the two of you part, knowing his mouth is just as sticky as yours now.

rin's nose scrunches slightly, like it does when he's "annoyed" with you. "whatever."

"hurry up and get dressed, my parents are expecting us."

you open your mouth but before you can get the words out he beats you to it.

"wear the skirt."

[gwenstacied]

# salt + sunscreen 🏖️

it was so warm.

sprawled out on his beach towel with a hand against his abdomen, the sun blanketed him in warmth, nagi drifts in and out of consciousness.

he can hear the ocean waves, smell the salt of the sea, but he can't bear to peel his eyes open when he's so content. not until he hears you bounding over and plopping yourself on the towel laid out next to his.

he turns his head and peeks at you with one eye. you're panting, chest rising with every inhale and exhale. water droplets sparkling on your skin, he watches one as it trails from the side of your neck down, down, down until it disappears into your cleavage. obscured from view by the clingy fabric of your patterned one piece.

"seishiro, baby," you nudge him gently with one hand while the other rummages through your tote, "did you put on any sunscreen before you decided to offer your body up to the sun as sacrifice?"

he's looking at you with both eyes now, and has even turned over to face towards you, head propped up.

"nah, sunscreen's such a hassle. why'd you go swimming without me?"

you let out a small scoff at his reply, "the real hassle will be when you're all burnt up. and i didn't go without you, my love, you looked really cozy on your towel."

you finally find the tube of sunscreen you'd been looking for, buried under the paperback you're currently reading. turning to your boyfriend, you catch sight of his lips pulled into a pout.

"don't pout sei, you can swim with me right after i get this sunscreen on you," you promise, "now up."

nagi sits up with a whine while you busy yourself with squeezing the right amount of sunscreen onto your palm.

"can't let my pale boy burn," you say, pressing your lips to his cheek in a sweet kiss.

your cream covered hands are a bit cold when they first make contact with his skin, and yeah he does flinch a bit, but he can't really complain. it's nice to be taken care of in these subtle ways by you. you're also his really pretty girlfriend who's rubbing your hands all over his chest, wearing what he thinks is the cutest swimsuit he's ever seen.

but that doesn't mean he won't take any opportunity he can to tease you.

"the sunscreen's a nice excuse to feel me up hm?" he asks as your hands glide across his shoulders and down his arms.

you giggle, "sei, you're my boyfriend. i don't really need an excuse to feel you up, baby."

"mm, and how many boyfriends you got, pretty?" he's got a smirk now, his big hands coming to rest at your hips giving you a little squeeze.

you fix him with a playful look before answering, "just the one."

"yeah?"

"yeah, any more and it would just be a hassle."

[gwenstacied]

# rain at daybreak ☔

nagi is beautiful.

you always thought so. from the moment you first met him until now, nagi seishiro has been beautiful. even more so when he sleeps.

laying on his stomach with his arms tucked under his pillow, cheek squished against it with his head turned to the side. he's lovely.

his hair sits messily, and his expression is peaceful. eyes closed with his lashes kissing his skin. lips so pretty pink and slightly parted, and a fading love bite beneath his jaw.

it's not often you get to watch him sleep like this, quietly reveling in his existence in your bed. usually he's up and long gone before you awaken, off to morning practice with a mumble of; "this is such a pain". one hand slinging his bag over his shoulder while he reaches down with the other to smooth your hair away from your face, pressing a kiss against the corner of your mouth. so you try to savor the moment.

you can hear the soft pitter-patter of the raindrops outside, the blue light of the morning creeping past the fabric of your curtains to bathe across nagi's bare back.

you slide a hand across the bedsheets and under nagi's pillow to intertwine your fingers with the hand closest to you. gently pulling it out to where you can actually see it, littering the back of his hand with soft pecks.

with your free arm you reach over to start lightly tracing your fingers across the expanse of your boyfriend's skin. it's mindless really, and you're glad he sleeps heavy. you continue your tracing, drawing shapes and writing your name as well as his. soon you move to phrases, etching i love you i love you i love you down his spine.

soon your hand tires from the movement and comes to just rest on his back. your fingers of your other hand are still curled with his as you lean over to kiss his shoulder. "seishiro, my love, you are so beautiful." you tell him, breathless.

you watch his face as his lips curl into a soft sweet smile. he peels his eyes open slowly to peek out at you from beneath his snow white hair.

"thank you," he murmurs.

[gwenstacied]

❝ the stakes are high, the water's rough ❞

pairing: nagi seishiro x reader

tags: office au, office worker!nagi, he is not a football player in this, established relationship, fluff, introvert office worker nagi my beloved 😓

a/n: i love love love the ours mv by taylor swift so i was like ykw why not nagi office worker ,, makes u wonder what would happen if nagi didnt play football and became a pro hmm HAHHAHA my irls also helped w what do people even do in an office so ty to them theyre the best 🫶 enjoy this mwa also thank u nie babe (@fuyuluvr) for beta reading may kith ka sakin 😚

masterlist

the morning air is definitely not good for the lungs. in a busy city, long gone were the fresh and cool winds of the province. instead, fog and vehicle smoke fill the atmosphere, smothering people on their way to work. 

what a dull world to live in, nagi thinks. making his way towards the elevator after mindlessly showing his identification card to the probably half asleep desk attendant and high-fiving the friendly janitor who never fails to greet him every morning. 

ding! as the doors slid open, nagi could feel himself melting to the ground. it’s 7:54 am, office hours start at seven. he’s late but so what? it’s not like his boss cares enough for attendance. because of this, he gets an extra 10 minutes to sleep in. so why? why is the elevator so full of people that he has to squish his 190 cm build who’s carrying a briefcase? sighing dejectedly, nagi thinks he should’ve just taken the stairs. 

it was silent. other than the constant whirs of the elevator going up, no one dares speak a word. it makes nagi cringe, to be honest. he feels like he’s in a room with a bunch of npc’s just trying to do their role. as soon as the lift stops at the thirteenth floor, nagi is pushed left and right as his fellow employees rush to their desks.

nagi walks over to his desk sluggishly. each step just adds to his growing boredom. the office is still the same as ever. the coffee that toppled over yesterday is still left unclean and the corner plant who has seen better days. 

dragging his feet to his assigned cubicle, nagi sat down with a huff. looking around, he notices mr. takahashi, his senior who has worked here for more than ten years, standing in front of the water dispenser just staring into space. yep. this will be a long seven hours.

throughout the day, nagi felt nothing but exhaustion and endless boredom. his boss was nowhere to be found, as usual. he went to three different printers in the office and not a single one of them worked. he couldn't even concentrate on the report he was working on because the beeping from his co-worker's game almost made him pull out his own console and neglect his duty. during lunch, two people whose names nagi didn't even care to know about kept snickering while looking back at him eating his melon bread. how bothersome, indeed.

as soon as the clock strikes four, nagi wasted no time in tidying up his things. rushing towards the exit, nagi even ditches the elevator and ran down the stairs instead, he high fived the janitor for the second time of the day. 

while on the bus, nagi decided to play games to pass time. taking in his homescreen wallpaper. a picture of you two at a park, his arms around you from behind, his cheek squished against your own. you beaming at the camera and him having the most miniscule smile ever known to man. 

two years ago, you got an offer to study abroad in an exchange student program. at first, you refused, not wanting to leave nagi behind and came along were the doubts if you're even gonna survive in a foreign place all on your own. but nagi talked to you about it and urged you to just go, he'll be fine. he was not fine. during the first week, nagi couldn't sleep. he felt homesick in his own home. at some point, he's even thankful his job is everyday and keeps him away from home, nagi can't believe he ever thought that.

and now, nagi's on his way to the airport. to pick you up. because finally, after two whole long torturous years, you're coming home. to him. 

nagi waits at the doors, anxiously tapping his feet. looking ahead, his eyes met yours and all of a sudden, the world doesn't seem so dull anymore. he watches as you run towards him, dropping your baggage at your wake and throwing yourself at him. arms around his neck and legs around his waist, nagi holds you tightly as if he's afraid to let you go again. he pulls your face back, his palm feels warm on your cheek. 

"hi, sei. did you miss me?" you whispered, oh so delicately. nagi didn't utter anything back, only staring at you. eyes wandering around your features, rememorizing the face he's only been seeing inside a tiny box for the last two years. nagi leans in slowly, taking your lips in his. he kisses you with longing and fervor.

"missed you. i missed you so much." you heard him mumble into the kiss. pulling back only to hide his face in your neck, nipping at the skin before putting you down.

"let's go home?" you ask him, hands cupping his face. he nods.

home. nagi thinks it's a nice word when you say it.

likes & reblogs are appreciated !

[gwenstacied]

[ sakusa kiyoomi ! soulmate au ]

it had been years since your own soulmate has rejected you. due to the nature of the message, one would assume it was cruel, but you couldn’t help but find it so despite how how your heart crushed when you had first seen it. it was simple and clear, the only sentence they had ever written you.

i don’t want a soulmate, please don’t contact me. sorry.

there were no conversations shared after you had responded with a simple ‘got it,’ and waited a few moments, making sure to give them time to view it before you erased the words to prevent the way your eyes seemed a little blurry every time you saw them.

when you had explained the situation to your friends, one of them looked you dead in the eyes, their eyes wide, and questioned how you seemed too nonchalant. they questioned if you understood what that had meant, that you would be alone forever, and you simply shrugged.

it wasn’t as if the situation didn’t affect you. of course, within all years you grew up, you tended to feel a little upset when you watched how other soulmates seemed so in love, how they completed each other upon first sight when the person made to love you didn’t want you, and of course you cried here and there, but one fact remained.

there was nothing you could do.

you weren’t going to pathetically and desperately try to change their mind. you had enough faith that if they changed their mind, they would grab a pen and make the first move themselves, especially since you were no longer kids.

you weren’t going to ruin your own life over someone you didn’t even know, so instead, you held your head high and moved on, and all your efforts were enough to let you intern and work with the manager of the MSBY black jackels. after talking with the lady, who seemed so overworked that you weren’t sure the salary could even be worth it, you found yourself finally standing in front of the team.

“guys, this is [y/n]. they will be sitting in on practice for the following two weeks, please don’t bother them.”

you offered a polite smile and a wave. “hello, it’s a pleasure meeting you all. if you need any help, don’t hesitate to ask.”

the exhausted manager proceeded to introduce them one by one, and while they were all very attention grabbing, your eyes only lingered more than necessary on one who coincidentally happened to be staring at you, eyes wider in an emotion you couldn’t make out.

sakusa kiyoomi.

it took you a few days to get comfortable with the overly chaotic team and it didn’t take long until atsumu finally brought up the over-used question that no longer made you flinch. “so, have you met your soulmate yet? they’re one lucky motherfucker.”

you almost snorted at the irony. instead, you hummed in disagreement, purposely acting unaware of how sakusa actually seemed to be interested in the conversation for once, how he immediately stopped his actions, eyes set on you as he watched your ever move as you scrolled through instagram. “flattering, ‘tsumu. i haven’t.”

the ball of sunshine that was hinata tilted his head curiously, eyes wide. “woah, do they live far? how come you haven’t met them yet?”

“oh, they rejected me.” you stated calmly, voice clear of any emotions. everyone seemed to freeze and you could have sworn you heard sakusa suck in a breath loudly, but you glanced up and offered a smile. “it’s fine, please don’t worry! it happened years ago, i’m already over it.”

atsumu blinked. “so… does that mean i can ask?”

meian immediately smacked the back of his head, apologetically glancing at you, but you only let out a light laugh. despite how the faux blond was very rude at times, you thought it was nice for him to ask first. after all, you had uncountable encounters where you hadn't even finished your answer before you were bombarded with rude, nosy questions. "yeah, i don't care. what's on your mind?"

immediately, miya, hinata and bokuto were slumped in front of you, legs crossed and attention undivided. they reminded you of little kids waiting for a reward, and you couldn’t help the small amused smile pulling on your lips as you shut your phone, taking note of how sakusa stood behind them, leaning on the wall with furrowed eyebrows and a frown.

“when did it happen?”

“i was ten.”

“did it hurt?”

“like physically?” you snorted, your amusement growing when the three nodded quickly. “no, it did not. it hurt a little emotionally, of course, but nothing physical.”

“what are you planning to do in life without a soulmate? will you fall in love with someone else?” bokuto gasped curiously, leaning closer, and you raised an amused eyebrow.

“contrary to popular belief, romantic love isn’t everything. i think i can survive alone, bokuto.”

he pouted. “that sounds so miserable, though! i have no idea what i would do without my keiji, [y/n]! how are you still alive?”

meian immediately pulled the athlete up with a scolding frown, but you let out a small laugh. “you can’t exactly miss something you never had, you know?”

“but still! i—“

“enough, you mannerless little shit.” meian sighed tiredly, shooing the two other athletes out as he dragged bokuto outside. the room was now empty with the exception of you and sakusa, and considering the man had never spoken a word to you before, nonetheless did anything but frown at you, surprise was an understatement to what you felt once he quickly took a seat in front of you, replacing the others with an even more distressed expression than bokuto had a few seconds ago.

“can i ask you a few questions?”

you blinked in slight surprise, then slowly nodded. “sure, go on.”

he swallowed harshly. “what— what would you do if your soulmate suddenly just wrote to you?”

for an odd unidentifiable reason, the question felt even more personal than any question you had ever asked before as you tilted your head in slight thought. “well, i would give them a chance.”

he frowned. “that’s stupid. they broke your heart, rejected you before they even knew you and you would give them a chance that easy?”

you stared blankly at sakusa, who seemed to realize his words immediately and grimace, swallowing harshly. “sorry— fuck. look, it’s just…”

he groaned for a second before he buried his face into his palms hopelessly and you resisted the urge to reach over and pat his head in a pathetic attempt to comfort him, your intense confusion distracting you as you patiently waited for him to continue. after a few seconds, he finally sucked in a breath, looking up with exhausted eyes and a frown.

“i may have rejected my soulmate when i was young and i’m too much of a coward to actually contact them again because why the fuck would you give your soulmate another chance after they rejected you? fuck, i have been through hell and i’m the one who made the decision!”

you blinked once, then twice, slowly registering his words, before shrugging. “i think that’s just because you’re a coward, sakusa.”

he pouted. you thought the sight was adorable and you ignored the sudden urge to squish his cheeks, mentally scolding yourself. you had more important things to focus on other than how utterly adorable he was.

“what have you got to lose?” you hummed, leaning over and resting your elbow on your thigh, your cheek resting on your palm. “you already said it yourself, you feel like hell. are you going to live the rest of your life simply wondering when you have the chance to change it and fix what you ruined as a child?”

he groaned loudly. “what if they weren’t as forgiving as you, [y/n]! what if they reject me?”

“well, they would have the right to, obviously,” you started, deadpanning. he visibly sulked, and you mentally groaned at how affected he was at this. why couldn’t your soulmate be anything like the attractive man regretting all his life decisions in front of you? you truely had the worst luck. “but, at least you wouldn’t have to wonder anymore, and even if they do reject you, they would probably take it back after a while, anyways. you’re soulmates, dude.”

he frowned as he considered your words, before he nodded slowly. “okay. fuck, okay, what’s the move?”

you blinked. “why are you asking me that?”

“you’re coaching me throughout this.” he stated blankly, and you would have immediately told him that you were definitely not qualified for that if it wasn’t for the fact that his hands were shaking. you sighed, reaching over and grabbing a pen from your pocket before you held it out. the way he immediately grabbed it without even bothering to satanize it first showed you how stressed he was, so you calmly stared at him until he huffed, looking up. “okay, i can do this. tell me what to write.”

you shut your eyes, leaning back in your seat with a tired sigh. this was definitely not what you signed up for when you decided on this job. “give me a minute to think. any prompts?”

“you’re too slow, i can’t wait anymore.” he hissed, and you heard the pen cap fall on the ground. you snorted loudly, ignoring how your arm suddenly felt a little numb.

“well, you certainly had no problem waiting years.” you muttered humorously. however, there was no remark from sakusa and you finally forced your eyes open when you noticed how quiet it was, your gaze falling on a wide-eyed sakusa, lips parted in disbelief. and to your disbelief, his gaze wasn’t on his arm, it was on yours, where there was suddenly a neatly scribbled sentence.

would you give me a chance if i asked?

it was silent for a few seconds as both of you stared blankly at your arm before you managed to swallow harshly, lifting your gaze up. once your eyes met, you couldn’t help but crack a wide grin. “well, are you going to kiss me or do i have to wait a few more years?”

your laugh echoed through the room when sakusa nearly leapt over to reach you, his lips silencing the noise as he held you desperately like you were to disappear, and every moment before his touch suddenly felt as miserable as bokuto had described it.

‘i have no idea how i was alive without this either, bokuto.’

[gwenstacied]

[ sakusa kiyoomi ]

owning the café right next to the building with the MSBY black jackels team had it’s pros and cons. the cons were simple, including how atsumu often comes in after the café is already closed and begs you for a coffee if you’re still inside, how bokuto shattered the door once because he was too excited to hear you started selling his favorite kind of cake and underestimated his strength, how hinata always clumsily drops his coffee when he’s sleepy and how sakusa frustrates all your baristas by ordering the most specific drinks and you know it’s just simply to spite them. there were a lot of other cons, but you didn’t want to think about them enough to realize that you should probably ban the four most popular players out.

the pros were shorter. the athletes being always there meant you had for rich regular costumers that dropped nice tips for your workers and kept them motivated and how you have slowly gotten befriended by each of them in their special way. oh, and you get to see sakusa kiyoomi, the only man that had ever managed to capture your attention that deeply, everyday.

( although, you could also count that as a con because that also meant sakusa could also see you every day no matter how unflattering you look. )

so, when valentine’s day arrived and sakusa strolled in at 8 pm alone with a scowl, you only raised an amused eyebrow, eyes sleepy as you rested your chin in your palm, elbow on the counter. “someone’s happy.”

“whatever,” he muttered with a huff, crossing his arms. “everyone else fucking ditched practice because they have dates, how stupid is that?”

you let out a small snort at his attitude. “oh, everyone’s happy, how miserable.”

he ignored your clear sarcasm, pushing his wet hair back with a hand. “exactly. get me a caramel cappuccino.”

you raised an eyebrow. “no extra instructions? you must be really mourning.”

he shot you a glare. “shut up before i switch it into a twenty minute drink.”

you snickered, mocking a move of you of you zipping your lips shut as you moved to make his drink. he didn’t move from behind the counter to his usual seat, instead, he moved to stand behind the small staff door and crossed his arms, watching you move. “so, why are you alone tonight?”

“hm? i gave the staff a day off to spend it with their partners.”

he scrunched his nose up. “disgusting, but that’s not what i meant. you look nice today, so you clearly had better plans than to work here.”

you let out an amused chuckle, ignoring how his simple ‘you look nice’ made your heart a little faster. “thank you, but i have no idea what you mean. all i did was take a little longer doing my hair.”

“exactly,” he mumbled. “why?”

“well, unlike you, mr. miserable, i happen to find valentines day pleasant and i wanted to not look as awful as i usually do.” you teased, placing holding out his drink. he accepted it, your fingers brushing, and he only shot you a glare when he noticed the little ‘happy valentines :p’ scribbled before he huffed.

“you don’t look awful everyday.” he murmured. you raised an eyebrow and he only furrowed his eyebrows in return. “why do you like valentines if you’re single?”

“it’s nice to see everyone happy for a day,” you hummed quietly, avoiding his eyes. “it’s really cute. i don’t have to be in love to enjoy seeing over people happy, you know? the glee on people’s faces when their beloveds gets their overpriced roses or cute —also overpriced— heart-shaped chocolates is nice and—“

“please don’t continue,” he scrunched his nose up in absolute disgust. “ew.”

you rolled your eyes playfully. “you got your coffee, right? go away.”

he scowled as he walked away, slumping in the nearest table to the counter.

it was normal to see sakusa having his drink inside. he did it always, having a grudge against the time he accidentally hit a curb while drinking and had his entire car sticky for too long even after multiple cleaning jobs. however, what was definitely not normal was how he stayed in after he finished his drink, glaring at the now empty cup with crossed arms.

you passed by after flipping the sign to closed, raising an amused eyebrow. “so?”

“give me one of those stupid heart-shaped cakes.”

you snorted. “sure. by the way, i’m kicking you out when everyone else leaves.”

he glanced up with a blank stare. “are you this rude to all your costumers?”

“nope,” you grinned. “only you.”

you ignored the way his cheeks seemed just a little redder almost immediately, walking away while removing your apron. once you returned with his desert, everyone else was gone and you placed the plastic bag on the table, raising an eyebrow. he glared at the bag. “i wanted it in.”

“we’re past closing hours.”

he ignored your words, frowning as he glanced up at you. “sit with me.”

you cracked an amused grin as you slumped across from him. “am i your valentines date?”

“shut up,” he sulked. “this is so unfair.”

you watched in entertainment as he ripped the paper packaging to create a shitty plate before he offered you a fork, which you accepted happily. he narrowed his eyes at you, earning a shrug. “this is all on the house anyways so i might as well enjoy it.”

“i was going to pay.”

“i know,” you hummed, taking a forkful. he took a small piece, almost pouting as he placed it in his mouth, and you pushed aside the thought of how his lips looked so soft as you cleared your throat. “so, why are you pouting over valentines? i didn’t think you cared about this holiday.”

he scowled harshly. “first of all, i am not pouting, i’m not a child. second of all, i don’t! i’m just annoyed everyone else actually managed to confess to their stupid little partners while i can’t even their phone number.”

you ignored the ache in your heart as sakusa paused as if he just blurted out the biggest secret to exist, his face causing you to snicker. he glared when he heard your laugh and you immediately bit down on your lower lip in an attempt to stop, but you only managed to stay silent for a few seconds before you bursted into giggles.

“you hate valentines because you can’t get your crushes number?” you snorted as he sulked further, giving you a glare. however, the pout on his lips ruined the harshness of it.

“it’s not a crush,” he refuted weakly. “i’m a grown man, i don’t have crushes.”

“so, why can’t you get your crush’s number?” you mused, emphasizing on the word. despite looking like he would love to have the world crack and swallow him whole, he sighed, seeming to think about his answer.

“well,” he furrowed his eyebrows. “they’re too good for me, i’m just saving myself from rejection.”

“…why?” you blinked. he stared at you like you asked the stupidest question ever.

“because i don’t want to get hurt.” he scoffed like the answer was obvious, sinking lower in his seat.

“that’s stupid.”

“you’re stupid.”

you snorted at his weak mumbled retort. you couldn’t believe that was the same sakusa everyone was terrified of, really, especially with the way he looked so offended by your simple ‘that’s stupid’ and the way he looked so fucking adorable, buried in his thick jacket and scarf. “i don’t understand what you have to lose. i mean, you’re already mourning, so what do you have to lose if you confess?”

“everything.”

“you’re dramatic.” you deadpanned as he sighed loudly, ignoring how hypocritical you were. he didn’t need to know about it. “plus, i’m sure they like you back.”

“i’m sure they don’t,” he huffed. “they’re too good for me.”

“you’re an attractive professional volleyball player.” you stated blankly, cheek resting on your palm as you stared at him. “you’re pretty and smart. sure, you might be an asshole sometimes, but that adds to your charm.”

his lips twitched downwards. “i am not an asshol— you think i’m pretty?”

you gave him a soft smile, pushing yourself up. “you’re very pretty, sakusa, and you’re also very stupid if you’re unaware of it.”

he stayed silent, yet you could feel his eyes on you as you grabbed your stuff, shoving your phone and wallet into your pants pockets with a quiet yawn. he only stood up when you motioned for him to move, quietly tossing his trash into the bin near him before he slowly caught up with you. it was silent as you both walked outside and you locked the door, giving him a stern look. “look, i’m not trying to get involved with your love life, but i really think you should confess. the key to moving on is getting rejected, anyways, so you should confess either way and—“

“i’m driving you home, come on.” he cut you off, unlocking his car. you rolled his eyes at his inturruption, not bothering to reject his offer as you quietly walked over to the passanger seat. once inside, sakusa shrugged his jacket off, eyes in front of him as he stared ahead. you shivered.

“can we turn the heater on?”

“no.” he muttered. you rolled your eyes despite how an involuntary small smile tugged up on your lips at how childishly annoying he was, eyes shutting as you sank into the seat, mumbling your address. he shoved his jacket into you, and you prayed your flushed cheeks wouldn’t be too obvious as you gratefully pulled it on. “so, what about you?”

“hm?”

“no crushes?”

you kept your eyes shut. “i have one.”

you weren’t sure if the car halted slightly or if it was your imagination, hearing sakusa suck in a breath.

“and have you confessed?”

“fuck no.”

“you hypocrite,” he hissed. “you implied i was a coward!”

“what you assume i imply is none of my business,” you remarked. “plus, i have more valid reasons than you.”

“which is?”

“i know he’s too good for me and i am easily co-existing with said fact without pouting over it. not to mention, he likes someone else and i am not going to be someone’s rebound.”

sakusa scoffed loudly as if you said the most absurd statement ever, sounding so personally offended that someone could assume you insulted his entire family line.

“now that’s stupid—“

“—you’re stupid—“

“—no one can be too good for you,” he stated bluntly. his words made your mind go blank, words dying on your tongue. his tone made it clear he wasn’t lying. “whoever he is, he should he lucky you even look in his stupid direction.”

you remained silent, heart beating so loudly that the sound echoed through your head.

“confess and if he doesn’t accept it, bokuto, miya and hinata can always beat him up.”

at that, you let out a huff of air, the image of the three attempting to beat up sakusa despite how they are definitely secretly terrified of him being too funny. you pushed your eyes open, giving him a soft smile. “not you?”

“i’m never involuntary touching a stranger even in the form of punching his face unrecognizable.” he deadpanned blankly, pulling up in front of your building as your smile turned into an amused one at his words. “you can return the jacket later.”

“thank you,” you murmured, hand on the handle. “thank you for the ride as well, i—“

“before you go,” he muttered, voice low and almost shaky. you glanced up, eyes widening slightly at his flushed cheeks as he stared ahead, knuckles turning white over the steering wheel before he sighed and turned to you with an unnervingly charming smile. “i got some solid advice from a pretty stupid hypocrite today and while i feel like i might regret this later, i know atsumu would never let it go if i don’t do this. so, you can either get out and roll right into bed now, or you can spend the last hour of valentine with me, what do you say?”

—

yes i am aware valentines day already ended, thank you. i think this is my favorite piece so far (づ ◕‿◕ )づ

[gwenstacied]

[ sakusa kiyoomi ]

when you first heard that sakusa kiyoomi was an asshole, you doubted it.

you knew he was a germaphobe with fans who wouldn’t know the meaning of boundaries if it hit them in the face, so you dismissed every rumor about him being an absolute asshole. you saw with your own eyes how his face softened when he called his cousin and how he discreetly feeds the stray cats outside the university doors when he thinks no one is looking, so him being an asshole simply seemed… doubtful.

until you got partnered up to do a project with him. immediately, your slight admiration was gradually replaced by pure annoyance.

he refused to meet up in person, which you had accepted easily for the sake of his comfort. then, he refused calls and zoom meetings, insisting you can finish the entire thing over texts, which wouldn’t have been a problem if he didn’t fucking take hours to reply.

he dismissed all your ideas disrespectfully and insisted his were better, refusing to elaborate on any despite his own demanding. moreover, he forced most of the work on you, insisting that him doing the powerpoint slides was enough.

the last straw was when the night before the final presentation when he nonchalantly sent you a text saying he had lost the flash drive with the presentation, so he was going to re-do it in the fifteen minute gap he had before the lecture started because he was too tired from practice.

seeing red was an understatement for what you felt as you clicked the unsaved contact number, eyes narrowed purely in rage as you gripped your pen so tightly your knuckles turned white.

at the last ring, he picked up, a smooth yet annoyed voice speaking. “i thought i said i don’t do calls.”

“listen here, you fucking brat.” you started, voice warningly low. “i don’t fucking care if you don’t get a wink of sleep, you will fucking finish the presentation today and send me a copy before it hits three in the morning. i kept up with your fucking attitude, your crappy ideas, your late responses and the fact that i basically did the entire fucking work alone with the exception of the presentation, so if we don’t get the full grade and i see a little drop on the 30% this stupid crap is worth, i will personally make sure you won’t live to create another presentation.”

you hung up before he could even think of a response, slamming your phone harshly on the nightstand as you turned your attention back to your laptop. you expected your phone to be buzz with notifications of him throwing a fit, because your expectations were six feet under for him at that point, but there was none.

instead, there was an e-mail sent at 02:59 with a slide show attached. you placed it on your own flash drive, finally feeling the pressure fade ad you shoved everything to one side of the bed and immediately passed out.

the next morning, you walked in a few minutes before the presentation started, thankful you had already distributed what would be said in the presentation days ago as you carefully placed your stuff down, unaware of the way sakusa froze once his gaze landed on you, eyes widening in pure panic.

once you finally glanced over and met his eyes, you offered a flat ‘hi’ and pushed the flashdrive into the computer connected to the projector. he blinked rapidly. “you’re [y/n] [l/n]?”

“obviously.” you responded lowly, face blank as you set the presentation up, turning to him after. “you remember your parts?”

he nodded, seeming very distressed about an unknown fact as he scrunched his face up in frustration, but you ignored it, adjusting the collar of your top as students started piling in.

to your delight, the universe granted your desperate wishes the presentation went smoothly. you earned the full 30% and you were finally very relieved that the nightmare was over as you thanked your professor, quickly grabbing your stuff and walking out.

“wait!”

sucking in a deep breath, you paused in your steps, turning around with your lips pressed together and your eyes narrowed as they landed on sakusa. he stopped a few feet away from you, grimacing slightly as he shoved his hands in the pockets of his jacket.

“i’m sorry.” he started. you raised an eyebrow, unamused, and his eyes drifted to his shoes almost anxiously. “i was a huge jerk, i know.”

“jerk is a little generous.” you muttered. he sighed quietly, his eyes moving anxiously to meet yours again.

“i know. i am very sorry you had to deal with me for the past month and thank you for handling all of this.” he paused, gulping for a second before he spoke again, his next words a mumbled mess that you could barely make out. however, the way the words ran in your head was clear.

you almost dropped your stuff in surprise. thankfully, you managed to tightened your hold on them before they tumble to the ground, blinking twice before you cleared your throat softly. “excuse me?”

even with his mask on, you could see his cheeks turning a light shade of red as he looked everywhere but your eyes.

“can i take you out for coffee as an apology?” he swallowed harshly. “please?”

“…fine.”

[gwenstacied]

"okay, this is so not fair." isagi finally spoke, words tumbling out of his mouth in a manner that made him glow with frustration.

you looked at him for a second before turning your face to look back at the TV screen, growing confused as to what he was talking about.

just a few minutes ago, isagi had come back into the living room after freshening up. he was out with his friends for a few hours before, so you figured you would watch the match on your own— wearing the team's jersey and sitting in front of the big screen with a bunch of snacks surrounding you.

however, as soon as isagi had entered, he couldn't help but let his jaw fall open at the sight of you in a jersey which was a different color.

a different name and a different number.

oh, hell no.

"what's not fair, the game just started. are you already criticising other players?" you giggled, grabbing the can of soda to take another sip, eyes still focused on the screen as the team you were rooting for seemed to have possession of the ball for the meantime.

"no, im talking about what you're wearing."

there it is.

you sighed, tightening your lips to control the laugh that threatened to escape. of course.

"come on, aren't you and rin friends now? im just supporting the team." you teased a little more. isagi gritted his teeth, rubbing the back of his neck as he thought of the proper words to use— otherwise he might say some mean things about the name on your back.

"i don't care. you never do all this for me."

now you finally let a laugh out. he was just so cute.

"babe, that's not true."

"i've never seen you in my jersey during my matches?"

"that's because you were miles away from me, you idiot. how are you going to see me if you're playing?"

"that's- that's not—"

"i wear your jersey all the time." you deadpanned, muting the TV. isagi's face softened just a little when you turned to look at him. "like, all the time."

lips in a subtle pout, he shrugged it off. "whatever."

you reached out and cupped his face, speaking in a voice that made you sound like you were talking to a child. "next time, i will send you evidence. i promise."

he groaned, guiding your hands off of his face and now placing his own on either side of your face, lips curving into that snarky grin that you loved. "then why don't you start with the evidence now, baby? go change, please."

[gwenstacied]

being rin's roommate had its pros and cons.

he was always quiet, minding his own business. he never really brought any trouble (except the few times he came home with an injury and expected you to let him deal with it himself) and that's what made living with him easier.

but sometimes, just sometimes, it feels like he's been forced to live with you.

you wouldn't say you were overly social or a person who could be friends with anyone they like, but god, every time you talked, rin acted like you were the most uninteresting person ever. when clearly, you were the most chill person on the planet.

exaggeration, yes. but it's not wrong to say that you weren't a loud person. you preferred silence just as much as he did. so why did he look like he's living with a totally different person?

that blank expression, his lips pressed in a straight line and those undeniably pretty lashes of his- as much as you had grown to like the look he always gave you, it was so damn frustrating. always the same stupid look, the look which made your stomach flip even though he didn't smile or show amusement.

you never knew what was going on his head.

eventually, he noticed the effort you put in to be his friend (when all you did was stare at him every time he was doing something, as if to remind him, "stop ignoring me!!! stop. ignoring. me.") and your 'friendship' was finally happening. (he felt a little scared.)

it was all going quite nicely, even though rin was still not that talkative. you knew he was just.. like that. you wouldn't expect him to change his ways. all you wanted was to help him get as comfortable as you were in this apartment, and it definitely worked.

after weeks and weeks of progress, it finally came to a point where rin was so comfortable that he even asked you to join his horror movie marathon.

and it was a big mistake, he realized, when you stood in the doorway of his bedroom with a sheepish look on your face.

"what do you want."

rin's irritated voice made you huff. he was already under his covers, but hadn't slept even though it had been almost an hour after the last movie. you felt incredibly jealous of how warm he must be, shuddering and entering his room without saying a word. a new level of comfortable.

oh, how much you loved his expressions- like how was staring at you like you were a fly that wouldn't leave him alone.

"shut up," you hushed, lifting the covers and climbing into his bed, cutting him off just as he was about to complain, "and move."

now, you laid next to your roommate who had started to consider pushing you off the bed. "this is fucking ridiculous. what the- what are you doing?" he hissed, watching you shift closer and pull the covers over yourself.

you sighed, ignoring him. "that last movie was.. something."

he groaned, staring at the ceiling just like you, avoiding the way your sides touched. "you insisted on watching it all the way, not me."

"yeah, but then i kept seeing that fucking old lady from the movie in the corner of my room. so, now im here."

"we are never doing this again. you hear me?"

"whatever, just let me sleep here tonight. it's 2 AM already, i'll be out of your room by 6."

rin cursed under his breath, turning quickly so that his back was facing you. this bed wasn't even made for two people. he closed his eyes, hoping to drift off as soon as possible so that he could just forget that you were in the same bed as him. there was no way he would let you notice the reason for his frantic movements.

his peace lasted for mere seconds before it was interrupted by the sound of shuffling and the mattress slightly sinking near his side when you wrapped your arm around him.

his eyes shot open and he stilled, hearing you softly apologize, your voice closer to his ear this time.

"i have a habit, sorry."

rin was losing his mind and he wasn't sure if he'd be able to exist tomorrow.

"you're fine." he rushed his words faster than anything, breathing out when you shifted even closer with what sounded like a silent laugh. "just go to sleep, fuck's sake."

there were no more horror movie nights after this, that's for sure. but now rin's got a bigger problem and that is dealing with these stupid feelings he has for you.

he really was losing his mind.

[gwenstacied]

rin itoshi ; baby daddy

hcs of rin as a father / sfw !!!

you took the pregnancy test three times to make sure it wasn’t a false line but it’s true; you and rin are going to be parents! on the same day, you immediately went online to purchase a baby sized national team football jersey to surprise your husband rin.

needless to say, you panicked at first but after seeing his reaction to the news, you felt relieved and so full of love and happiness

you told him just as he came home from training, you were already laying in bed relaxing as you rubbed your tummy though there was no bulge yet

just next to you, the tiny jersey was displayed and rin immediately noticed it, confused as to why you put a tiny national team jersey there

“y/n, did my jersey shrink while i was gone?” he asked as he walked closer to your side before noticing a pregnancy test just above the jersey

“wait. is that mine? or yours? wait,” rin starts getting flustered as he grabbed the test and you hold onto him excitedly, “you’re going to be a father!”

rin doesnt say a word as he looked back at you and the positive result and you fear that he might not want a child, especially after the childhood he had.

but NO he’s actually over the moon and crazy happy that a mini you and him will be walking around the house and o h he’s trying not to cry

gives you a very very very passionate and deep kiss while he holds your face because thats how he knows how to express his emotions at the moment

during the pregnancy

rin is the type of father who would read guidebooks and research A LOT on the internet

worries about your morning sickness and he’s always there holding your hair and massaging your back

makes you a nice healthy balanced breakfast after that and doesn’t let you move an inch on the bed as he does the housework, only allowing you to move once you finished your meal and feel better

he WILL bitch about your weird cravings but still go out to buy them

“i want ice cream and pickles right now,” you shot awake and started jerking his arm while he’s half asleep.

he sticks his tongue out in disgust, “together?” and you nod before he groans and gets out of bed to get it for you

(if your cravings are too weird at home he’d still go down to the convenience store to get it or get delivery)

he gets nervous touching your belly but when your baby kicks as they feel rin’s touch, rin is moved to tears but holds it in, and continues to stroke your belly while lying on your thigh

will NOT sing to the baby like you told him to but he will talk to them as if it was a teen

“you have to stop giving your mother back pain, ya hear me?” rin is at your belly eye level as he says it, giving your belly a peck after

during/after the birthing

rin will hold your hand during labour

give you so much forehead kisses

tells you how well you’re doing and how much he loves you

tells the doctor to pass the baby to you first

will finally let some tears shed as he sees how beautiful you look carrying his baby

and his whole life is complete

part 2 to be continued! :)

tag list: @6423btw

[gwenstacied]

❝ i"ll take with me the polaroids and the memories ❞

a/n: bf!rin who has a knack with photography >< established relationship, ah yes have some fluff with pro-player rin, not beta so beware, i think ooc rin but let a girl dream okay !!!

itoshi rin, despite his cold demeanor, was surprisingly a warm person behind closed doors. if anyone were to walk in the room right now, they’d be rubbing their eyes all over in disbelief. who’d have taught that rin, a force to reckon with on the field, would take the time of his day to do… whatever is happening right now.

another click was heard. rin’s fingers gently hovering over the camera, waiting for the picture to develop. once the soft whirring was over, rin held up the film, waving it back and forth before looking at it. eyes glazed with adoration as he took in the photo of you laying in bed, adorned in only one of his old jerseys. 

“mister, are you done?” you pinched his legs, which straddled your own. hands soon smoothing out the nipped skin. “c’mon rin, you’ve been at this for an hour.”

“no can do, pretty girl. we’ve got three more packs left.” rin shuffles through the stack of developed photos beside you on the bed. “then let me use up a whole pack for you.” you pouted at him, hands sliding up from his legs to under his shirt. 

rin, before you can even blink, trapped your arms beside your head, hands intertwined. the two of you had a stare down before rin sighed, leaning down to kiss you. as his lips danced with yours, he flipped the both of you, rin now laying down with you straddling him. 

you felt him smile into the kiss before you pulled away to pick up the discarded camera. quickly opening up a new pack and reloading the film. 

“alright, lover boy, mind striking a pose for me?”

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