#my writing - geto

[suguruverse]

your personal space has never really truly been yours since you’ve started dating him. his muscled arm around your waist when you wake up in the morning, has become as familiar as the sunrise itself. it used to be cute, his warmth a cozy start to the day. but now, it's suffocating, like he can't bear to let you go, even in his sleep.

you shift carefully under his weight, not wanting to disturb his sleep. his breath keeping its steady rhythm against your neck, and you wonder if he dreams of you as you lean in to kiss his forehead gently. he smiles in his sleep, a small, contented expression that almost makes you want to slip right back into his arms.

the sheets rustle softly as you slip out from his grip. you slowly tiptoe across your shared bedroom, craving the simple pleasure of being able to enjoy making coffee alone. the smell of freshly ground beans fills the kitchen, and you lean against the counter, enjoying the quiet morning.

but as your coffee brews, a twinge of guilt creeps in and you can almost imagine when he'll wake up and wonder where you've gone. despite enjoying the well needed alone time, you knew the longing to be close to him will pull you back into his embrace sooner than you'd planned. almost as if in complete sync with your thoughts, you hear a mumble approaching the kitchen, and then his voice, thick with sleep, calling out softly,

"angel cmon back to bed with me, you know i don’t like sleeping without you"

ੈ✩‧₊˚ gojo, nanami, bakugou, iwaizumi hajime (27) althetic trainer, oikawa, kuroo, geto, choso, yuji, midoriya

[kurooh]

suguru’s so pretty like this, always orderly hair in his face and messy as his face crumbles in absolute pleasure; with the soft skin of his thighs covered in dark hickeys, legs spread while you take him deeper into your throat. whenever you’re between his knees, he always loses his composure and becomes deliciously vulnerable. you know what you’re doing to him, of course, and you don’t stop even after he cums down your throat.

no, you keep deepthroating him, shoving his cock down as far as possible, and sometimes suguru even shakes his head, letting out a soft plea.

“baby, it’s too much, i can’t cum again..”

suguru thinks you’ll listen, not keep trying to milk everything out of him. so, his lip can only tremble as he looks down at you with panic in his teary eyes; but he can’t close his legs, or find it in himself to push you away.

“i-it hurts, i can’t—”

but he weakly fights against the pain and pleasure before it all overwhelms him and he’s spilling down your throat again. it’s so much that he twists a hand through his soft tresses, tugging hard in hopes of grounding himself.

this always happens, whenever you suck his cock. you’re never able to stop, and despite what he says, he doesn’t want you to.

[teddybeartoji]

18+ mdni; gn!reader

thinking about roomie!suguru, who steps out of the bathroom with just a towel hanging loosely around his waist. it's dangerously low and his happy trail is... leading your eyes to a forbidden place. water droplets cascade down his temple and his neck, his scarred chest and his toned muscles.

he finishes drying his hair with another, smaller towel before slinging it over his shoulder. he gives you a warm smile. there's still a bit of sleep in his tired eyes but he looks fresh, he looks good.

(he looks more than good.)

the morning light shines in through the small window of your shared kitchen and he hums at the smell of coffee. you're an angel leaning on the counter, hands busy with preparing your drink as he steps inside.

he chuckles. he asked you a question but you didn't hear it. he smells so fucking good; the smell of his shampoo and his fancy conditioner wash over your senses and it's easy to forget where you are. his eyes flick behind you before walking over to you with a smug little grin.

he bores his sharp purple eyes into yours – he loves how you react to him. he doesn't shy away from it, he's cockier than he looks. he loves the attention, he loves to be in your spotlight. he wouldn't care so much if you were a stranger, if you were a random person on the street ogling away, ut you're neither of those things, are you? no, you're something else.

he exudes warmth as he towers over you, his head tilted down to keep his eyes on you. he wants to play with you a little – he loves the way you're staring up at him right now. eyes big and wide, lip tucked under between your teeth. he's good with people, he can read them like a book and you're no different. he sees you swallow a dry lump, he sees you grace him with a flustered smile as you try to brush by the fact that he caught you admiring him red handed. he sees the way you're taking deeper breaths than normal, surely just to keep your composure. he can't wait to break you.

his arm reaches behind you to turn off the coffee machine with a small click.

"wouldn't wanna make a mess this early in the morning, now would we?"

melting. crumbling. falling down to your knees. you hate how much he teases (you love it), you hate how patronizing he sounds (it's hot). he's the only one that can get away with it – a charming smile that hides his deepest desires of sinking his teeth into little lambs like you, soft eyes that hide the need to watch them unfold before him.

his gentle hands long to hold, long to keep and covet. he thinks about you a lot; your shared mornings and afternoons, your exhausted naps and bitter rants about your days. shy gazes and lingering touches, stupid jokes and the cute little hidden sounds he keeps hearing from your room in the late hours. he's being patient, he's warming you up.

he's just as infatuated with you as you are with him. he's just more subtle with it.

or is he?

because you've heard him, too.

you don't know whether he's doing it unknowingly or he's actually trying to make you go insane – whichever it is, you are ready to bend at his will. soft groans accompanied by a steady slick pump; you didn't mean to listen in. you just wanted to make sure he's okay!

ear against the wooden door, you listened to him think about you. your name was on the tip of his tongue, but it was too early for that. he wants to smear you with his honey, he wants to drag you in but he needs to wait for it. this is perfect.

he did know you're were there.

he heard the floor creak, he heard the cutest gasp that left your pretty lips. fuck, you're perfect. his head was lolled back as he stroked himself to the thought of your wide, doe-eyes. how flustered you'd be, how flustered you were in that very moment. he imagined your trembling hands and your stuttered words and his dick twitched in his palm.

he thought about inviting you in and just making him watch as a form of punishment, for being a little pervert. he shuddered out a laugh and watched a glob of pre-cum cover his own fingers before mixing with the saliva and spit that's covering him already. he thought about making you sit between his legs so he could jerk off right in front of your beautiful face, he thought about your wobbly lips, your teary eyes. the way your thighs would press together.

your fingers would itch and twitch and he'd make you place them on your legs. he wouldn't want you to touch. yet. maybe he'd make you apologize and maybe he'd make you kiss the tip. he thought about how good you'd smell, how good you'd taste. another raspy groan crawled up his throat and you were about to cum untouched behind his door. like a creep.

he loves it. he's proud of you, he wants to push you even further. he wants to see what else he can make you do. this is exciting and he can't wait to devour you whole as a reward after he's done bullying himself into your body and your mind. utterly loved and corrupted—

— you're meant for him.

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

COME REST YOUR BONES NEXT TO ME ; SATORU GOJO, SUGURU GETO

synopsis; satoru shares the first snowfall of the year with the two people he loves most. 

word count; 4.6k

contents; satoru gojo/reader/suguru geto (poly relationship!!), gn!reader, you're all whipped, reader referred to as spouse, fluff fluff fluff!!, sickeningly domestic, just comfy vibes all around, mostly from satoru’s pov, suguru has a favorite (its you) (but also not really he just likes bullying toru <3), satoru gojo may or may not have unresolved mommy issues

a/n; happy satosugu holidays to those who celebrate <33 geto died today isnt that crazy. dont u think its fucked up how love figuratively and literally killed him. anyway! help urself to two very whipped husbands <33

”holy shit!”

the raspy tilt of satoru’s voice echoes throughout the bedroom, stirring you from your comfortable slumber. a soft groan spills from suguru’s lips, deep and husky, as he pulls you closer into his embrace — smoothing a warm palm down the back of your head. trying to soothe you back to sleep, muttering under his breath.

”satoru, it’s too early for this...”

”it’s snowing!” said man continues, unperturbed. unmistakably giddy. he’s standing by the window, hands pressed flush against the cold glass; entirely entranced by the sight in front of his cerulean eyes. 

your eyelids begin to flutter. a tiny tug of your subconscious, a pang of something excited flowing through your veins, an alert to your sleepy brain.

(snowing.)

with groggy movements, you wriggle out of suguru’s grasp — a displeased grumble leaves his throat, almost a whine — allowing you to scramble out of bed. ”really?” you chirp, rubbing the sleep from beneath your eyes. a raspy, meek little voice spilling into the air.

satoru grins, watching you move closer, watching as a tiny gasp pushes past your lips. watching as your droopy eyes widen — brightening, glittering, starlight and snowflakes painted on the interior of your iris. a breathtaking sight, he thinks. 

maybe even more breathtaking than the winter wonderland reflected in it; beyond the pure opaque frosting of the window’s glass, out into your backyard, buried beneath a thick layer of snow. soft and fluffy, covering the city, suguru’s long-frozen tulip garden, the bare branches of your apricot tree. every roof in sight. all of it dyed a pure white, glittering in the light of a morning sun yet to fully rise, tiny snowflakes descending down to earth. 

it’s beautiful. 

satoru loves winter. he always has, he thinks. it comes to him as a memory — blurred at the edges, gleaming even still, the first time he saw those snowflakes up close. someone held him in their arms, he recalls. a warmth long faded. 

all he can properly remember is that sight. one that knocked the breath from out his tiny lungs, all glitter and something almost other-worldly, something frightening in its majesty. like it broke through a rift in the stratosphere. 

the first snow of the year.

and he’s loved it ever since; the soft crunch of snow beneath his feet, an air heavy with the scent of cinnamon and candied apples, bouts of laughter to be heard from faraway apartments. red and green glimmers of artificial light, sweet frosting on the christmas cake he would always gobble up alone in his room. the cold wind, nipping at his bare fingers — a reminder of his capacity for ache.

there are lots of things to love. lots of memories to cherish. and every single year, he gets the chance to make more.

like this; the light in your eyes, the smile on your face, the excitement in how hurriedly you turn to meet his giddy gaze. a nostalgic kind of joy simmering in the space between you.

and before either of you know it, satoru’s pulling you towards the hallway, intent on dragging you outside to see it all up close. almost tripping over his agumon plush, lying unassumingly on the floor, kicked off the bed once again. 

(probably by satoru himself, though he’ll always insist it was suguru’s doing. overcome by his jealousy, surely, unable to stand the sight of his cute husband cuddling up to a plushie instead of him. satoru understands, he does — he feels the same when he sees you hug that 3’0 cat plushie of yours.

and, sure, maybe once or twice he’s been lucid enough to register the subconscious kick of his leg and agumon’s subsequent fall to the floor — but he’ll still blame suguru in the morning. if only to see the way said man rolls his eyes, clicks his tongue, maybe flicks his forehead if he’s really lucky.)

high on the spirit of christmas, spurred on by childlike elation and sleep-deprivation, you stumble towards the door. satoru pulls one of his jackets over your shoulders, delighting in the way your hands don’t fully reach through the sleeves. wrapping you up in a cozy scarf when suguru shouts at you both to dress warmly, barely awake and already tired of your antics.

and the moment you step through the door, satoru is engulfed by it. that mystical, mystical feeling. 

a little lonely, a little too satisfying to pass up. a cold breeze that nips at his fingertips, snowflakes that brush against his cheeks and stick to his white lashes. a warm hand in his, as you cling to his side, shuddering — but smiling, as you look up at the sky, putting a hand out just to feel the snowflakes melt against the skin of your palm.

he feels you let go of him, but doesn’t mention it. a little too mesmerized to tug you back. dipping his toes into the bittersweet nostalgia of it all, staring at the flurry of white all around you, the skeletal branches of your apricot tree. suguru’s poor tulips. humming a jolly tune, subconsciously. a little delighted.

— until something cold and wet hits the exposed skin of his neck.

satoru twitches, a chilling shudder trickling down his spine. the snowball just thrown at him begins to melt, droplets sticking to his nape, and he turns to you with a raise of his brow. a devilish grin on his lips, when he hears your muffled laughter, sees the crinkle of your eyes.

(you’re cute, he thinks. but you need to be humbled.)

”oh, so that’s how you wanna play?” he drawls, eyes gleaming with amusement. taking a step forward, reaching down to gather some snow in his palm. a wide grin on his glossy lips. ”fine by me.” 

he's fast, but you act quickly, running towards the apricot tree with laughter in your throat. feeling the pitter patter of your heartbeat resound in your ears, as the snowball misses its mark by just a hair — and you waste no time in making your own.

it’s a hard-fought duel. snowfall blocking your vision, nerves beginning to numb, red cheeks and runny noses as you chase each other with giddy breaths. unfortunately for you, satoru’s arms are unfairly long, fingers unfairly nimble, and his stamina never even seems to falter.

so before long, your energy begins to dwindle. chest heaving, hands too cold to form a proper snowball, while your husband seems like he hasn’t even broken a sweat. they just keep on coming, snowball after snowball colliding with the fabric of your jacket, and when one of them hits your collarbone you squeal — falling backwards, right into a fresh pile of snow.

satoru moves forward, a triumphant smirk on his handsome face. you’re out of breath, and your hands are red, and he’s fairly certain you’re gonna catch a cold. suguru’s going to scold him, but right now all he can think of is you. the frown you’re wearing, the little huff that slips from your lips.

”ready to admit defeat, sweetheart?” he practically purrs, standing above you with his hands on his hips. smug. and you grin right back.

”never.”

a hum. something glimmers in his eyes, a devious little glint, and you come to regret your decision when satoru gathers a heap of snow with his overgrown arms; only to drop it all on top of you. too tired to fight back, all you can do is shield your face, silently accepting your fate.

a shiver wracks through your body, and satoru almost feels bad. just a tiny bit. but then you finally relent, murmuring bitterly under your breath. ”fine, fine…” a soft pout forms on your lips. ”you win.”

and satoru smiles. crouching down to meet you at eye level, on his knees in front of you. there’s a teasing mirth in his eyes, when he reaches out to cup the fat of your cheek. ”that’s all i wanted to hear, sweet pea,” he drawls, trying not to giggle when you exaggeratedly roll your eyes.

his voice curls down an octave when he continues, leaning forward to brush his nose against yours. hot breath against your chilled skin. ”now, for my prize…”

his lips meet yours, sweet and chaste — a little cheeky. you scoff into the kiss, but satoru’s smile only grows. honeyed, a little bit adoring. his tongue flits out to lick at your cold bottom lip.

he lingers, for a bit. like he’s trying to savour the way you taste, faded strawberry chapstick sticking to his lips, smudged against your own. and you sigh, softly, melting a little, comforted by the fleeting warmth that blossoms on your face. 

when he's finally satisfied, having dragged his prize out to its completion, satoru helps you up. brushing snowflakes off your jacket, cradling your ice-cold hands in his. they’re not faring much better, but a worried tug of his heartstrings compels him to warm you up. bringing them to his lips, hot breath fanning over your skin, tender little kisses against the knots of your knuckles.

you can’t help but blush, and a raspy chuckle flows from out his lips. 

hazy morning sunshine licks at the branches of the apricot tree behind you, illuminating the contours of your face, the shine of his eyes. a blue smudge on a canvas painted white and gray. the air smells of pine cones and something smokey, crisp. it courses through his burning lungs when he inhales, exhales, a breath of vapour that scatters up into the sky.

satoru loves winter. always has. but now, he’s certain he loves it even more.

because now, he has two people to share it with. two people to drag out into the snow, two people whose hands he can tenderly warm up, two people who’ll laugh and sigh at his antics and still indulge him. two people to pelt with snowballs. 

what more could a man want?

”hey, idiots!” 

the voice that echoes throughout the air is exasperated, a little teasing. yet fond. suguru’s got his hair tied into a messy half done bun, black turtleneck sweater enunciating his broad chest and the curve of his waist. there’s a fatigue in his eyes, the creases of his face, but a lazy smile is playing at his lips.

”i’m making breakfast,” he shouts, voice deep and smokey and soft even still. ”come in and warm up before you catch a cold.”

”is that any way to speak to your husband and spouse?” satoru chimes back, a melodic lilt to his sugarsweet voice. something satisfied. pleased.

suguru shoots him an unimpressed look, but his eyes soften. melting a little, at the words that spill from satoru’s lips, as if they were always meant to be there. 

(husband. spouse. suguru wills himself not to smile.)

with matching grins on your faces, the two of you stumble back towards the door. snow crunching beneath your feet, a happy noise pushing past your lips when you collide with the warmth of your husband’s chest.

”look, suguru. isn’t it pretty?” you chirp, smiling brightly. an expression he mirrors — brushing some snow from the top of your head, warm palms caressing your cold skin, setting a mental reminder to scold satoru later. sparing a brief glance at the snowy veil over reality.

then he exhales. a fond hum. ”it is.”

satoru joins you both by the door, stretching out his lanky limbs. tousled hair, wet strands sticking to his skin, reddened cheeks and a signature pout. ”suguru, my hands are cold,” he whines. ”warm ’em up for me?”

a click of his tongue. ”should’ve put some gloves on, satoru.”

a hum buzzes in your throat, and you put your hands out. itchy, a little dry. a sad frown tugs at your lips when you speak. ”my hands are also cold.”

and, like clockwork, suguru’s eyes soften. a coo tiptoeing on his tongue, engulfing your hands in his larger ones. ”aw, c’mere, my love…” his breath fans over your frozen fingertips. ”let’s get you warmed up, hm?”

satoru gasps, a hand on his chest, and you stifle a giggle. he’s acting, you both know, being a little drama queen. he knows you’re just exaggerating suguru’s double standard as a bit, that your husband would probably set himself on fire to warm either of you up.

despite that, his voice comes out thoroughly offended. ”oh, i see how it is,” he huffs, walking past the both of you. pouting deeply. ”you hate me. you hate me, and you want me to die. i understand.”

”satoru,” you coo. he hmphs, but stills, waiting for you to wrap your arms around him. and you do — a little too eager to appease your giant baby of a husband.

”we’re just joking around,” you assure him, holding back a humorous chuckle. squeezing his waist with palpable fondness. ”love you sooo much. you know that.”

satoru stays silent. but he cranes his neck, to meet suguru’s gaze, standing just behind him. narrowing his cobalt eyes — a meaningful look.

suguru sighs.

”yes, yes. we love you oh so much.” he takes a step forward, ruffling the white head of hair by the door. a lazy smile on his lips. ”now behave and go change out of your pyjamas. they’re soaked.”

his voice is teasing. exasperated, more than a little condescending. but it’s suguru, so satoru accepts it — following you both into the warmth of your home. the scent of cinnamon and vanilla hangs heavy in the air, a hint of espresso and firewood, lulling him into a sweet state of tranquility. rich with comfort, safety.

he changes out of his wet clothes, pulling a black hoodie over his head before waltzing into the kitchen. and you do the same, emerging from your bedroom in one of suguru’s cozy sweaters, knitted and smelling of bergamot. 

when suguru notices, his gaze shifts into something fond. palpable. a look satoru always finds in the scope of those warm eyes, amber and cedar bleeding into something sweet, only ever directed at the two of you. a look said man assumes goes unnoticed. he’s not as slick as he thinks.

the kitchen simmers with hazy sunlight and gentle movements, something sleepy and kind. satoru is a little bit enamored with it; from bowls of cat food by the corner, to camellias by the windowsill, cookie jars and dried lemon slices, the fading scent of baked goods and wishlists stuck to the fridge.

(yours and satoru’s are filled with scribbles, new ideas popping up daily, while suguru’s is almost entirely blank; mostly necessities, one or two things he’d like for himself.

and then, of course, the same thing he writes at the top of his wishlist every year; some peace and quiet.)

suguru shuffles around the kitchen, long strands of black hair cascading down his back, swaying with his movements. he sends you both an affectionate glance when you step in, already in the process of making satoru his cup of hot chocolate — topped with marshmallows and whipped cream, colorful sprinkles in the shape of tiny stars, a touch of cinnamon. satoru licks his lips.

when it's finished, the cup is promptly handed to him, paired with a tender kiss to his forehead. and suguru starts the meticulous brewing of your coffee, steady hands, finely chosen coffee beans, the low purring of the espresso machine. soothing.

that’s when you attach yourself to his back. wrapping your arms around his waist, a sleepy yawn muffled into the fabric of his turtleneck. he places a big palm on your hand, thumb smoothing over your knuckle, and you nuzzle into him silently. suguru smiles.

”still sleepy, baby?” he questions, a coo on the tip of his tongue. his voice is soft, palpably so, buzzing with warmth and safety and something that makes you want to stay cuddled up to him forever.

satoru senses an opportunity to insert himself into the conversation, and forces out a yawn of his own. stretching his limbs like a big cat, blinking drowsily, eyelashes fluttering. hoping it’ll come off as endearing. ”mhm.” 

but suguru shoots him an unimpressed look. ”not you,” he tuts, patting your arm, ”this baby. i wasn’t asking you.”

a pout. ”why are you so mean to me?” he whines, shooting you a doe-eyed look. bottom lip jutting out slightly, a feigned glassiness to his eyes. ”sweetie, tell your husband to stop being so mean to me.”

you smile. indulgent, as always. ”don't be so mean to him, suguru. you know he’s sensitive.”

a sigh. deep, tinged with exhaustion. satoru shares an amused look with you — stifling a shared chuckle at suguru’s exasperation.

and suddenly, he feels something warm flutter in his ribcage. a sunkissed butterfly, wings brushing against his ribs, coaxing his lips into curling up. unmistakable fondness, almost too much to bear. the need to reach out and touch you creeps up on him, a hunger he can’t deny, but he holds back; you look comfy like that, curled up against suguru’s spine. so he only inches closer, without a word. 

his husband casts him a glance, but satoru stays silent. lips pursed, waiting for something. patient.

and suguru relents. he reaches a hand out, to tuck a stray strand of white hair behind his ear — an excuse to touch him. a silent apology. 

(i'm sorry, you big baby.)

satoru grins.

you shift from foot to foot, leaning over to see what suguru is doing, pressing buttons and taking two ceramic cups out from a wall cabinet. your eyes zero in on a particular shelf, narrowing in suspicion, before flitting over to meet your husband’s gaze.

”satoru, did you use up all my peppermint sweeteners again?”

he stiffens. just a tad, before swallowing a gulp — followed by a silly chuckle, sheepish and performative, eager to wiggle his way out of your cold gaze. ”… which sweeteners do you mean, honey?”

”don’t pull the ’honey’ card.”

”and don’t play dumb, either.”

a pout crosses his lips. betrayed. ”suguru, who’s side are you even on?”

said man gives him a look. that one look, characteristically suguru, the same one he always sends satoru’s way. one so thoroughly unimpressed it makes him feel like the world’s biggest clown. 

and satoru plays along. your dutiful, beloved clown, his posture wilting like a sad flower. suguru exhales through his nose.

”don’t steal their sweeteners.” he smooths a thumb over your knuckle, absentminded, meeting the cold metal of the ring on your finger. smiling a little at the sensation. ”buy your own.”

satoru huffs, drawn out and childish. crossing his arms, leaning against the kitchen counter. ”ah, i see how it is. leaving your sweet husband to buy his own sweeteners?” he clicks his tongue. ”chivalry is dead.”

you bite back a little chuckle — satoru recognizes the cute noise you make when you do — and suguru rolls his eyes. fondly, always. ”remind me next time i go to the store and i’ll consider it.”

”hmph.”

suguru is smiling. it’s small, but genuine, worth a thousand words. and you are, too, the vague crinkle of your eyes giving you away. even as you bury your face in the curve of suguru’s back.

and ah, satoru thinks. there it is again. 

that sickeningly sweet sense of deja vu; the sensation of a certain something flourishing deep inside his chest. warming him up, trickling through his frost-bitten veins. that one little itch he never manages to satisfy, that never goes away, something that took root inside his heart years ago — watered by the sweet looks on your faces.

this everyday slice of heaven, right in front of him, that he’s been greedily partaking in ever since he moved in with you. since he married you.

(married.)

sometimes he still can’t believe it. 

”it’ll be done in a minute,” suguru hums, and satoru blinks. broken out of his syrupy stupor. ”you two go wait by the kotatsu, okay? must be cold, poor babies.” 

and, as always, his voice is a little teasing. a tiny bit condescending, if you really strain your ears, in typical suguru fashion. but it’s laced with a touch of sweetness; one that would be too much for either of you to stomach, if it were to drip out of his lips with nothing to water it down. so satoru accepts it. welcomes it, even.

and you follow his suggestion. making your way towards the living room, satoru trailing behind you, continuously enamored by every little thing he sees. every little piece of the home you’ve built for yourselves.

your living room is cozy. several potted plants seated here and there, a thick quilt to cover the kotatsu, a bowl of satsumas on top of it. a sleepy cat on your couch, golden sunshine ruffling her fur. a santa hat lies beside her, and satoru snags it without much thought. pulling it over his head.

his gaze shifts to the christmas tree over in the corner, eyes filling with a childlike kind of wonder. it’s decorated to completion, weighed down by colourful ornaments and lights, a star at the very top. suguru cut it himself, bringing the biggest and prettiest one he could find back home.

(satoru had gone with him. partially to help carry it back, mostly to get a glimpse of suguru's biceps flexing with the swing of the axe. he’s a simple man.)

and beneath it, presents are already beginning to pile up. carefully wrapped, in bows and silken paper, growing more each day. shattering suguru’s hopes of maybe having a more lowkey christmas this year — but satoru couldn’t be more relieved. this is the only time of year you let him get away with pampering you both to his heart’s content.

a smile blooms on his lips. he plops down on the floor, crossing his legs, right as suguru walks in with a coffee pot in hand. their gazes overlapping.

and something mischievous begins to brew within the blue of his eyes, something that makes suguru narrow his own. satoru pats his thigh, twice, a coo on the tip of his tongue. santa hat sitting pointedly on top of his head, fluffing up his hair.

”c’mere, suguru! sit on santa’s lap.”

”— you’re disgusting.”

the words are playful, but a pout still slips into the curve of satoru’s lips, and he huffs out a displeased little breath. his husband pretends not to hear it, so satoru turns to you — sitting so prettily to his right, already anticipating his next move. puppy dog eyes on full display, he gives you a soft tilt of his head, snowy tufts of hair falling over his eyes.

and you sigh, in what he knows is resignation. his faux pout turning into a satisfied grin.

you curl up in satoru’s lap without much of a fuss, letting him circle his arms around you. an indulgent smile rests on your lips, but he knows you love this; his broad chest against your back, the heat of the kotatsu warming your feet. breathing in the fading scent of your shampoo, he leaves a peck on the sensitive spot right behind your ear, and you try not to shudder.

then satoru smiles. squeezing you, lightly, sweetly, eyes rich with honeyed affection. voice dripping with playful endearment. ”there we go,” he coos. ”what does my angel want for christmas, hm?” 

”i want you to stop stealing my peppermint sweeteners,” comes your answer. instantaneous.

silence fills the room. a moment passes. outside your frosted windows, a bird takes flight from the branches of your apricot tree. and satoru clicks his tongue.

”… santa can only do so much, baby.”

two deep scoffs fill the air, heavy and bemused. one from you, one from suguru. satoru only giggles.

”just kidding!” he chirps, planting a kiss on the top of your head. ”don’t you worry. santa’ll give you all the peppermint sweeteners you could ever want.” 

you raise a brow, exhaling amusedly. craning your head to meet his gaze. ”and he won’t end up using them all himself?”

”of course not! blasphemy.” 

a moment passes.

”… maybe one or two. as a treat.”

a string of protests slips from your lips, and satoru tries not to burst into a fit of giggles. suguru just watches, silently, smiling lightly as he pours hot coffee into two ceramic cups. steam wafting up to the ceiling, a cat jumping down from the couch to curl up in his lap. he places one in front of you, not taking a single sip of his own until he hears you hum blissfully at the taste — pink lips against white ceramic. a bitter taste on his tongue, sweetened by your approval.

then he starts peeling three satsumas, absentmindedly, and satoru swallows down the love-ridden honey choking up the back of his throat. pretending the domesticity of such a simple action doesn’t melt his heart down to the marrow. 

he turns his attention towards the window. frost sticking to the glass like spider-woven webs, soon to be melted by the glow of the mellow winter sunrays. flitting in through the curtains, cascading over the room, splattering across the floorboards. framing the hue of your hair, the smile on suguru’s lips.

and a memory comes to him. sudden, hazy, faded at the edges. ghosting his subconscious.

he remembers the frost, the biting wind, the frightening majesty of the snow that fell that day. breaking into his world through a rift in the stratosphere. he remembers the contrasting warmth of the person who held him, who cradled him close; the soft lull of a woman’s voice. 

for a moment, satoru thinks he can almost, almost see it before him. hear those gentle words, see her tired smile. why was she always so tired?

(look, satoru. isn’t it pretty?)

— he can’t recall how it sounded. if it was melodic and soft, or raspy and broken, happy or sad. but he does recall that it made him feel safe. safe enough to find comfort in a sight so other-worldly, so very foreign.

it should’ve been frightening, but it wasn’t. the first snowfall satoru ever saw knocked the breath from out his lungs, stole his heart with cold hands, left him with a suffocating nostalgia. but the memory is precious.

and now, he feels that sense of other-worldliness in this; a kotatsu for three, a warm house, peeled satsumas and promises of a christmas cake soon to be baked. one lovely spouse in his lap, the other gazing at him with that fond look he always assumes goes unnoticed. a cocoon of safety — a ghost he doesn’t need to chase anymore.

warmth. enough warmth to make up for the snow and frost outside your home, all the experiences he missed out on as a child. warmth, warmth, warmth. funny, how that happens to be satoru’s favorite thing about winter. 

he looks at the two of you, hoping you won’t pay any mind to his silence. for once, he hopes you’ll stay wrapped up in your awful, awful coffee, so bitter that just looking at it makes his throat feel dry. just so he can get away with admiring you for a little longer. from the contours of suguru’s face, to the skin of your collarbone, to the rings on your fingers. ones he put there himself. 

and ah, satoru thinks, there it is again. again and again, as always, forever. that warm, warm feeling flourishing in the depths of his chest. 

he hopes it never goes away.

[wonderthor]

breeding kinks are great yeah but they’re even greater when yall already have kids

probably already have more than you thought you would and content with the kids you have now, but your husband is keen in giving you just one million more

so you’re being pressed gently into the mattress with his body, laying on your stomach while his hand is under your throat so he can be cheek to cheek with you and he rocks into you over and over

and your head’s in the clouds, but you can still hear everything he says

“you’ve been such a good mommy, always so good to our beautiful babies, sweetheart. i think we should have another one. how about it honey, you wanna be good and give me another baby? another beautiful baby that me and you and their beautiful siblings will love on? come on, be good and give us another”

when you shudder and moan against him, telling him your answer, he gets a bit more serious. making sure to pound and pound into you, getting you ready to accept the copious amount of seed he’s going to give you. because he’s putting that baby in you right now.

[jellinuy]

taking a nap with suguru. soft blankets and softer words, sweet nothings mumbled into his ear after he’s had a hard day. his silky black hair brushed from his face by your gentle, loving hands, tossed over his shoulder lightly so it doesn’t catch on any of his earrings while he snoozes. “i’m so proud of you” while he rests, his thick lashes closed against his cheeks, and a smile curled into his lips. he covers the expanse of your neck with soft, deliberately-placed kisses, mumbling a “thank you” or a “love you” in between each press of his lips, and you can feel the cold metal of the rings with each warm kiss. his large hands which massage your back whilst his head lays on your chest — he wanted to be held today, be a little selfish with you. the light of the evening sun, setting just outside the window, washing across the two of you, turning suguru’s skin akin to something of melted caramel, and his hair, silken dark chocolate. kissing his forehead and talking about nothing and everything all at once. reassurance. vulnerability. comfort. safety. love. and contentment on his behalf, as he trusted you with everything he was and everything he felt underneath a single fur blanket. watching him fight sleep, yawning over and over again, his nose crinkling and his eyes pricking with tears at the intensity of his tiredness, until the sandman takes hold of him, and with one final kiss to his forehead — so graciously granted by his lover after moving his bangs out of the way— suguru can doze off happy, knowing he will always wake up to you.

[hqkalon]

he knows how big he is and he loves hearing you whine as he slides his length through your wet folds. watching you squirm as his teases you before actually inserting his cock into your greedy cunt. "p-please." your pretty pleas fall in vain as he continues his through his action, "you gotta beg better than that pretty." greed trailed throughout his sinful tone as his hands ravished your body— fondling your breast before caressing your cheek. "can you please give it to me." your starry eyes found his, watching the corner of his lips curve into a taunting grin. "give what to you pretty girl?" his hips began stroking through the slick of your aching folds as he watched you come undone underneath him— groaning by the sudden action of you subconsciously grinding against him. "please f-uck me." your eyes glanced in the other direction, feeling his eye bore into yours— making you fully aware of what just spewed from your lips as embarrassment took over your face. "that's a good girl." your tummy flooded with warmth hearing such praise as he lined himself against your entrance of your wet hole. "here's your reward princess." his hips snapped against the plush of your ass, stretching you out so perfectly as your nails clawed into the back of his shoulders, "nghh fuck." you whined, body rocking back and forth as he pounded into you relentlessly— stuffing your cunt full. "this is what you wanted yeah?" he hummed against your ear. “hope you can handle it.”

geto, miya twins, toji, simon, eren, gojo

[subbmissivesuccubus]

Just had an idea of Gojo and Geto being your bullies and they are a menace to your life and one day, they take your phone and find that you listen to erotic audios with very specific themes of degradation and humiliation.

Cut to you being their personal sex toy they use on a daily basis to get off. Putting you in a miniskirt with no panties and recording you as they let you fight a curse by yourself. Spanking your ass and pussy for no reason. Creampieing you and then taking selfies with your stuffed pussy. Leisurly slapping your face with their cocks. Groping you in public. Taking you away to Gojos beach house and just keeping you naked and fucking you 24/7. Always recording your fuck sessions. Geto putting you in costumes. Stuffing you with toys before taking you out to complete a mission. Blurring your face and any noticable features before showing off your nudes to their other classmates, specifically Nanami who can't help but admit that the woman on screen is hot. Making a group chat with the three of you where Gojo and Geto just send pictures and videos of you to each other. Gojo constant taking upskirt photos of you. Geto making sure the coast is clear before lifting your shirt up in the middle on the hallway so he can suck your nipples. Both of them obsessed with eating out your pussy and will hold your still as they take turns, not letting you run away as they force you to cum on their tongues. The three of you cuddling underneath a blanket during a movie night with your classmates and unknown to everyone, their fingers are inside your pussy and ass. Gojo loves spanking your ass while Geto isn't happy until he makes your pussy swollen and red. They don't even greet you anymore, preferring to just come upto you and either spank you or grope you as their way of saying hello. Will steal your panties and will lift your skirt up so you flash strangers. Following you into the showers and washing every inch of your body because "you're to stupid and slutty to do it right." But it's just them touching your tits and the area between your legs.

Just Gojo and Geto being mean and nasty and filthy bullies ❤️ taking full advantage of your shamefull kinks ❤️

[merakidoll]

nails clawing into the deep red sofa trying to get away from the large cock that fucked through your walls harshly. chants of his name could be heard, crowd waiting for their favorite performer to come out and serenade them, but unluckily for them - geto was in like with the cunt he was currently fucking to just stop. “getogetogeto just l-like uh! that bunny” he mumble chanting his name alongside with them, bucking his hips roughly making you clench, tightening around him. bitting his lips his hands pulled even tighter on the long braids that were in your head slapping your ass, and grunting loudly over your whines. “b-break! breakkkk” you cried feeling your pussy clench down without stopping a beat. you dug your teeth into the fabric of the couch, mascara tears and damp eyelash sticking together while your eyes rolled over, body convulsing as the overstimulation took over your body. “thata girl” he whispered pulling his dick out and jerking himself off over you. his long dark hair glued to his face, and smudged mascara adding on perfectly to his look. pulling the leather pants back up, heeled boots clacked against the floor, while he made his way to the loud crowd that screamed as soon as he came into view.

[ddarker-dreams]

Lock I need you to share something about Gojo. Jjk is getting worse with no hope in the future. Plis just a tiny part is god. 🙏🙏🙏🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

Detour.

Gojo Satoru x F Reader x Geto Suguru.

Warnings: Mild not SFW implications, Gojo and Geto are Not normal about you, exhibiting possessive behavior. Word count: 1.2k.

-Index-

"—Excuse me, miss!" 

The exclamation barely registers amidst the crowded street's ambiance. Everyone has a destination they're eager to reach, and you're no different. Unlike those native to the area, however, you're more likely to get lost; hence your current conundrum. 

You examine the mess of squiggly lines, blocks, and patterns intended to function as a map. 

Kagurazaka, Kagurazaka... c'mon, I know this one... it starts with the kanji for god or something, right? 

While you scrutinize the map, the same voice from earlier calls out again, this time beside you. You glance around, not wanting to respond if he’s trying to flag down someone else. In doing so, it becomes increasingly obvious that you’re who he’s been trying to grab the attention of. 

From the looks of it, he’s a man in his late thirties, wearing a suit that could use a good ironing. You can’t recall meeting him before. Then again, you’re not privy to everything that happens back on campus. Meetings with influential figures frequently occur without your knowledge. You only ever find out about them later when Satoru loudly voices his critical view on everyone who attended. You are wearing your uniform, it’s recognizable to those in Jujutsu circles. 

You’d rather not stir up a scandal by unintentionally snubbing a Zenin or someone equally important. With this in mind, you politely inquire, “Can I help you?” 

“That uniform… you’re a high schooler, right?” 

You nod, figuring that this confirms your hypothesis. 

“What year?” 

This question makes less sense. Maybe he wants to know your proximity to Suguru, or, far likelier, Satoru. These types always have their own designs for the pride of the Gojo clan. 

“I’m a second-year.” 

“I see, I see,” he begins rummaging through his blazer’s inner pocket. He procures a business card and holds it out. “How about a job? From the looks of it, you’d make a good fit.” 

You blink. 

Are you… allowed to do freelance work? You’ve heard of specific sorcerers being requested for jobs, but that’s always been through the school. Besides, as a Grade Three, you don’t think you can go on unsupervised jobs. Not wanting to seem rude, you reach out to accept the card— 

—Only for it to be intercepted. 

“Sorry, she’s completely booked,” a voice that sounds the furthest thing from apologetic chimes in. 

Gojo Satoru stands to your right, adorned with his circular sunglasses and trademark grin. He rips the card in half without so much as a second thought. You stare at him, incredulous. Questions swarm around your head. When did he get here? How didn’t you notice him until now? Why does his cursed energy have such an unnerving quality to it? 

He bends down and hangs his arm around your shoulder. “You’re somethin’ else. Ignoring Suguru and I’s calls, chatting up strange men in Kabukichō… I swear, we can’t take our eyes off you for a second.” 

“Wh— I’m not chatting anyone up!” You whisper yell. His infinity nullifies enough for you to jab a finger at his chest. “Why can’t you give better directions?! ‘West of the Edo Castle’ doesn’t tell me anything, it just sounds like a TV drama!”

Satoru shrugs. “Should’ve just asked an auxiliary manager to drop you off.” 

“You might treat them like a personal taxi service, but I’d rather not. Taking the train’s fine.” 

The man finally overcomes the shock inflicted by Satoru’s audacity, taking a step forward. “What are you, her boyfriend or something?” 

“Bleh, no!” 

“Future husband.” 

Yours and Satoru’s responses come out simultaneously. 

“In that case—” 

“Excuse me,” A new presence interrupts the increasingly irritated man. Suguru wears a friendly smile which somehow comes across as more menacing than Satoru’s wolfish grin. He places a hand on the man’s shoulder. “You are aware that it’s a minor you’re trying to recruit, correct?” 

The man flushes at the accusation. “Listen, I dunno what you’re trying to accuse me of—” 

“I’d hate to see you get in trouble for a mistake like that,” Suguru cuts him off again, raising his voice ever so slightly. This attracts the attention of some bystanders. “Who knows what consequences that’d result in, especially for a married man like yourself…” 

Huh. You hadn’t even noticed the gold band on his ring finger. Suguru’s nothing if not perceptive. 

Nearby commuters whisper amongst themselves while eyeing the scene. The man’s gaze flits between a self-satisfied Satoru and an overly polite Suguru, eventually settling on an escape route. Wordlessly, he departs, although you swear you overhear him muttering ‘crazy kids’ and ‘doomed girl,’ along the way. 

“Yo, Suguru. Took you long enough.” 

“Unfortunately, not all of us can teleport.” 

“Your curse did a better job at tailin’ me than you.” 

Ignoring the jab, Suguru dusts his hands off while honing in on you. “You alright? You weren’t answering our calls.” 

“And you’re late,” Satoru whines. He helps himself to searching through your purse, taking your pink Razr hostage. “Huh. Battery’s dead.” 

Suguru appears content. “What’d I tell you?” 

“If she’s blocked me before, the same could happen to you.” 

“I wouldn’t block Suguru.” 

“She wouldn't block me.” 

This time, it’s you and Suguru who speak concurrently. Satoru pouts, putting his hands up like he’s under attack (which he probably believes himself to be). You snatch your phone back without issue, unlike when he last stole it. He unblocked himself and dangled it above your head until you promised you wouldn’t do that again.

“And here I was, about to treat you both to pastries,” Satoru sighs, melodramatic as ever. 

“While we were waiting for you, I noticed creampuffs and macaroons on the menu; which would you recommend?” Suguru inquires, not bothering to acknowledge Satoru’s complaints. 

“That depends on what you want from the experience,” you mimic his decision. “Creampuffs tend to be one flavor, whereas macaroons come in multiple, so the variety’s nice. When I get a variety pack, I always end up disliking one of the flavors and wishing I’d just gotten my favorites instead.” 

Satoru sighs as loud as he can. “Right, right, I’m just a walking wallet. Let’s get going before someone else solicits [First].” 

“Eh?” You turn your head to face Satoru. “‘Solicits?’ As in…?” 

“Se—” 

Suguru slaps a hand over Satoru’s mouth. “What he means to say is that this isn’t the best area for a high school girl to linger.”

“W-Wait, hold on! I thought he was like a… er, how would you say that… sorcerer employer?” 

They both stare at you. 

“You do know what Kabukichō’s famous for, right?” Suguru tentatively asks. 

“Hm? ‘Kabuki’ is a type of traditional theater, isn’t it?” 

“...” 

“...” 

“Let’s just show her what we mean,” Satoru bends down, picking up two halves of the business card he split in half earlier. “It’ll be a good lesson. I’d rather not have to come fetch her in this place again— oh.” 

Suguru inspects what has the power to shut Gojo Satoru up. You watch as his eyes move back and forth, his face shifting while he does so. His lips narrow into a thin line when he pulls back. Curious, you stand on your tiptoes, hoping to catch a glimpse yourself. Thankfully, there’s yomigana above some of the kanji you don’t recognize. This eliminates any possibility of you misreading the card’s contents. 

‘Oh’ indeed, you think. That poor guy…

It’s a business card for the company that oversees AKB48. 

[ohimsummer]

✎ . . .❝ DO YOU MIND? ❞

— minors dni, suguru x gn! reader (established rs), ft. satoru, voyeurism, oral [ m. receiving ], pining?, some stsg if you squint at the end :3, barely proofread 🫣

gojo tends to show up at the most inopportune moments.

…like now, when suguru is balls-deep in your mouth.

your boyfriend watches, utterly flabbergasted, as gojo settles into the other patio chair and then blinks at him with a casual, blue-eyed stare. it’s nonchalant, careless…as if this is all normal.

you begin to pull off of suguru’s length before he stops you with a steady hand on the crown of your head. your eyes widen, lashes fluttering for a quick second before a strange sense of normality washes over you, and your body relaxes. whatever gojo is up to, you’re confident suguru will handle him with ease, as per usual. after all, this wouldn’t be the first time his best friend has walked in on you two during activities like this, though he usually doesn’t take a seat with the apparent intent on staying throughout.

suguru takes a long, thoughtful drag of his cigarette, eyes narrowing. “…do you mind?”, he asks and quirks a brow.

gojo just smiles at him. “huh? oh, no, i don’t mind.”

a couple seconds pass and suguru has to wonder if he’s actually having this conversation. “are you actually insane—“

“god, what’s the big deal?” gojo groans, interrupting the once-hushed, midnight serenity in his typical, obtrusive fashion. shifts in his seat and suguru finally notices the bulge between his spread legs. his jaw just goes slack in utter disbelief.

suguru is not distracted for long. with a flick of your tongue, you bring forth a grunt from your boyfriend’s lips, back to bobbing along his length in a craving for his creamy release down your throat. suguru can’t and wouldn’t bring himself to stop you. the situation is far past strange but, if you’re determined to continue, and gojo being a fucking weirdo doesn’t bother you, then that’s fine by him.

he sighs. “whatever.”

not even a second passes before there’s a clink of metal, and suguru watches as gojo begins pulling his own cock from his pants.

“satoru, what in the f—“

“shhh.”, gojo hisses at him, and suguru raises two astonished brows. “i’m trying to enjoy the show.“

the dark-haired man is genuinely stunned into silence. it takes a moment before he catches his bearings, tossing gojo an unamused look and leaning back to rest in his own chair. “fine, whatever, just shut up while you do it.”

suguru rolls his eyes at gojo’s victorious grin, before pulling his dying cigarette back up to his lips and billowing out another cloud of smoke. whatever. with everything going on, it’s easy for him to block out any trace of gojo, anyway, and just focus on you.

a bold smell of tobacco wafts through the air, filling suguru’s nostrils as the nicotine finishes off any remnants of stress in his body. the sloppy, wet noises of spit and pre, of you eagerly sucking him down your throat. the curious feel of your hand massaging his balls while the other twists and jerks off whatever can’t fit in your mouth. yeah, it doesn’t take a single drop of effort for suguru to forget that his best friend is jerking off to the sight of you.

someone else is properly taking the time to admire every detail of the view before him. the moonlight rays gleaming off of you and his best friend, casting a gentle glow on the lewd scene. suguru’s head tossed back with locks of black framing his face, a red blush visible across his handsome features even with the limited lighting. and you, god, you. gojo eyes the hand on the back of your head, threading through your hair. suguru has a gentle grasp for the most part, sometimes shoving you down to his base, and gojo’s cock throbs longingly at the gags you let out before being released again. so cute, so pretty, doing your best to take his friend’s fat cock all the way in, only to come up a few inches short every time. it’s obviously a struggle, and yet you still try your best, so keen to swallow every inch. so eager to please.

globs of clear precum dribble out and over gojo’s tip, making for slippery strokes as he gives his bobbing cock a squeeze. though it’s hard, difficult, excruciating—especially with suguru’s own grunts and moans calling out into the night—gojo doesn’t want to risk interrupting this moment. it feels improper and rude, akin to shouting during a performance.

as he admires you both, gojo begins to feel this abrupt sense of jealousy. whether it comes from wanting to be in your place or suguru’s, he cannot decide.

💜: @anthoosies @staryukis @teddybeartoji @lxnarphase @satoruxx @hellkaiserinphoenix @astral-hydromancy @bookswillfindyouaway @rosso-seta @sugurubabe @soraya-daydreams @bubblez-blop @arthurschneider @venzlenes @khaothick @haruchiy0 @sillysushi @risuola @hobarihope @crocodilethesir @starlightanyaaa @reodiaries @spicana @lovley212 @katharinasdiaryy @ninikrumbs @imaniitheoneee @luvr-exe @snackeyalleyjuice @apatauaia @trafalgarrattata @sataraxia @elleflying07 @toptierbunny @purplegemadventures @whokilledvivi @getouolgy @exinqiu @flvffybunny @leilalilox @babytoshiii @idkluvv @froggkat @princ3ss-juicy @starsharkz @zzzlevislothzzz @sugu-love @peachyaone @squishies0102 @ivy-vivii @mynahx3 @ratedrrrr @ha-zel-art @hongsxn @tryn-ity @rubyredish @higuchislut @mochi-islive @shhinigamii @insanebiitch @shinninglightning

[teddybeartoji]

imagine walking out of your room while trying to rid of the remaining sleep from your eyes when you see him.

roomie!suguru – in a baggy tank top and a pair of shorts, his hair in a low messy bun with sweat trickling from his temple. you're stopped in your tracks, lips parted at the glorious sight.

his eyes are closed, his breathing controlled as he sits in a deep stretch. you can see his biceps and his thigh muscles and his calves and... his ass. his hands are placed together in front of his chest and he looks so peaceful.

yoga.

he's doing yoga and you feel like you're about to faint.

you clear your throat and his purple eyes snap open; his lips tug into a sly smile, his canines flashing at you in the sunlight.

"morning."

his voice is syrupy, maybe way too so for the early hour. he moves his hands to his hips as he lowers himself deeper into the stretch, gaze glued onto you. he makes you nervous and you hate it – he's not even really doing anything! you feel small as he observes you, as he takes you apart. suguru thinks you look adorable; still sleepy with multiple pillow lines running over your cheek. you're fiddling with your own fingers, eyes flicking all over his body – from his exposed thigh to his hands to his face. you're not slick and he loves it.

"hi." suguru's smile stretches wider at your soft tone. "i'm gonna make coffee, do you– do you want some?"

he gives you a small nod, always amused by your desire to take care of others. he has seen it with others too; you always have extra sweets for whenever satoru comes by and you've started carrying around a small lighter just in case shoko ever forgets hers.

suguru takes in your faint little smile, your head cocking to the side as you mouth "ok" before disappearing into the kitchen. he switches his legs and sinks back into the stretch; he closes his eyes and focuses on his breathing again. he thinks about you in the kitchen, he thinks about you grabbing your mug and then his. he thinks about you placing them side by side. he hears your quiet steps and he hears you yawn. it's a perfect morning.

when he's finally done, he saunters into the kitchen while raising his shirt to wipe the sweat from his forehead. you have to do a double take, his dark happy trail making you choke on your own saliva. he chuckles at your reaction, but makes no comment, focusing on the freshly brewed coffee instead. his shoulder bumps into yours as he leans over you, the warmth of his body engulfing you. he still smells so good and you want to be mad.

you take a second to admire him and the flush on his cheeks but almost jump when his eyes suddenly meet yours. he's so close. sharp teeth and a sweet smile, he gives your hip a squeeze; his touch burns and you're about to melt, but he doesn't let you. he doesn't let go when he leans even closer, his breath fanning your face as he whispers.

"thank you, sweetheart. smells so good."

you give him a little high-pitched sound as a reply and he tongues the side of his cheek. you're so fucking cute. he grabs the mugs with a small grin and places them on the table behind you before taking a seat. he taps on the wood, telling you to come and join him.

the sun swallows him with ease, illuminating his beautiful sweaty, tanned skin; his piercings flicker at you and the thought of kissing them settles in the back of your mind. birds continue chirping lovesongs (for you, they're singing for you) while trees dance against the blue cloudy background, the smell of coffee fills the peaceful air around you and it's comfortable. this is your new routine - he makes your heart tremble and you make his grow in size.

suguru hasn't felt like this in a long, long time – your attention is addicting; he loves it more than he wants to admit. satoru would never let him live it down but he just cannot stop thinking about you. warm hugs and silly jokes, he's grateful for choosing you as his roommate.

[mrsoharaa]

Lol imagining waking up in your shared bed, naked and deeply cozy in the over basking warmth and comfort of freshly washed linen and extensive, strong limbs caging you in securely. a small smile perks at the corners of your lips, embracing the welcoming extorting heat resonating from behind you. little huffs of warm breaths fanning across your ear and cheek, soft snoring following behind each breath.

You hum softly, extending and patting out your free hand to the space in front of you, which should have occupied with another lengthy body. your lips quickly swivel into a disappointed frown, heavy eyes slowly peeping open to see nothing but an empty vast space before you.

You grumble to the distraught sight, wasn't your adoring boyfriend Suguru suppose to be there? entrapping you with his radiating, lulling body heat?

You blink rapidly, shuffling away from the adoring embrace of the limbs lacing over you comfortably. a dragged out, gruffed whine following your sudden adjustment, a large palm nestling onto your bare upper right thigh.

Your head stays on the empty space next to you, now gleaming around the open bedroom for the missing body.

"Lookin' for Suguru love?" you can hear the tiredness in Satoru's gruff morning voice, your attention whipping over and down at the pouting snowy haired man laying next to you, his arm pulling around your hips to bring you back to his towering, burly stature. he croons his face deep into your neck, jesting just beneath the juncture of your jaw, inhaling your sweet, intoxicating scent.

"Mm, do you know where he went?" you'd comb through Satoru's messy, mangled bed head, giggling to his silly, childish groans and whines craning out from his throat.

"Said something about getting us breakfast or something from that new cafe you liked so much down the street" Satoru raises his hazy head up and rest it onto your soft shoulder, soaking in the comfort and softness your skin embellished onto his. rubbing his hands up and down the subtlety of your tender flesh, giving it loving, slow chaste kisses.

his lidded cerulean irises glances up at you, carefully studying your breath taking features. noting the rays of the sun peeking through the shades of your windows cascade beautifully against your complexion. hinting out all of the notable and enchanting little details that drew him (and Suguru) to you with much attentive adoration. the soft orange and yellow hues of the awakening sun decorating your flawless beauty. stirring the boundless love and dire affection he had felt for you, only making him fall even harder for you.

a gentle smile seeps into your cheeks, your hand engulfed into the silky thin tresses of frost, slowly trailing down to the flush of his warm cheek. noting that familiar pondering look start to graze his gorgeous features, earning him a low chuckle from you, brushing away the little straying strands from his contorting, pout growing on his face.

"What's wrong Toru'?" your kindred smile stays on your face, listening to his deep grumble bellow against his chest, his brows knitting in a silly manner, matching his ridiculous pout. he kneads in closer into your soften skin.

"...Why do you always look for Suguru in the morning but never me?" he whips with a slouched look, which only insinuates a genuine giggle from you. the look on his face warming your heart and soul, cupping his face with your hand you'd lean down to kiss his forehead, brushing his hair from his face to do so.

"Toru', I only ask because he wasn't in bed..." you tilt your head slightly, watching the puffing grown man roll his eyes.

"And if I wasn't in bed?! would you ask or look for ME?!" he flushes his face onto your side thigh, puffing out heavy breaths and holding onto you tighter. you laugh again, with more joy and amusement gracing your tone.

"Of course you dummy! why wouldn't I?! wait, don't tell me...are you...are you jealous Toru'?" you trace the tip of your finger tip along to the back of his ear, shuffling with the wavy strands of his fluff hair.

"...Of course not! don't be ridiculous, I don't get jealous" he gruffs out, fishing out another chuckle from you.

"That's debatable" the sound of Suguru's silk voice chimes in, the scent of strong coffee, freshly baked bagels and a hint of cinnamon wafts through the air. Invading through your nose, as pure delight throttles all through your body.

"Oh my god, that smells amazing!" you chirp with enlightenment and excitement, the mixed aromas of deliciousness stirring your body fully awake to it's delicious allure.

A humble smile stretches across Suguru's face, walks over towards the bed and carefully hands you the delectable hot coffee and a napkin filled with a warm bagel tucked inside.

"For you, my dear" he leans forward to give you a tender kiss on to your forehead, earning himself a glowing, grateful smile in return from you.

"Ah, Sugu you're the best! what have we done to deserve you?" you kiss his jaw softly, feeling the snug of Satoru's grasp around you tighten, abruptly tugging you closer over to his side of the bed.

"Oh my god, Satoru...really? he brought us breakfast, stop being ridiculous" you roll your eyes, taking a careful sip of your coffee feeling the graze of his plush lips press into the lush of your skin.

Suguru simply tilts his head in concern, but relishes in Satoru's childishness and selfishness with you. scoffing playfully, Suguru pulls out a steamy freshly baked cinnamon bun from around him, holding it out to Satoru as a peace offering.

Satoru's eyes nearly popped out from their sockets, the pure glimmer and joy that swelled in his brighten eyes, filled Suguru's heart with such adoration and amusement.

"...Alright, you have been forgiven Suguru!" Satoru practically licks away the descending drool dripping down the side of his lips, quickly consuming the delectable cinnamon treat within seconds. a satisfied hum purring against his chest, spiking the sheer glee and elation rising in Suguru's chest. a subtle smile homing onto his face.

[nuumbie]

Trust Fall

Prompt: An elite member of the organization Fractsidius… Scar appears before you in order to explain his beliefs… so you may understand all you have to gain by joining forces and hands and to change the world with them all.

You’re weirdly open to the idea.

Author’s Note: Crack Territory. Surprisingly Wholesome? As wholesome as a Scar Fic can be. He’s a weirdo. This is the kindest fic I currently have. Technically, can be read platonic or romantic adjacent... ( He is flirting with you. You don’t exactly return it. ) Please send me Scar Fics. Otherwise I’ll need to make them all myself. Carry the weight of the world on my shoulders.

The face of the legendary resonator, his fellow black sheep, his fellow revolutionary in the new world if they had merely opened their heart enough to let them all inside. Well, you could have worn a more dynamic expression. You eyebrows are knit together, their mouth is curved into a frown. In all honesty? A little underwhelming of a reaction especially considering he's sent their little friend. ( A girl. You’re surrounded by girls! It's scary how every time he blinks it's like another one surrounds you. You're too popular! ) Where was he?

Oh, right.

He sent them to The Shadow Realm. Not like he actually hurt her! Well, he could have! To be honest a part of him wished to. Already planting ideas into your head. Getting you on their side. But he chose not to. First Impressions matter a lot. He even wore his nice pair of pants instead of the easy access ones he usually wears just for this moment. The others all gave him all this time so he even had a moment alone! With you. So of course it had to be special! Even though he was sure you'd share many moments. Just like this. "Well, well, well... we finally meet."

"You're... Scar, right?" It's such a coincidence she bought up his name! You don't know a thing. But everything falls into place so you're exactly where you need to be-- you truly are lucky. While Scar? Well, the fact you already know of his name means you know of all the foul, horrible, nicknames she's called him. An already dirty image in your head with his name attached. "Where did you put her?"

You have your hand on your sword. Pointed directly at his neck. He goes to tap it to the side. Away from his face. He already has plenty of stories for how he got all of these scars. Well, maybe he can get another. One specially made by you. Permanent proof of you.

Not bad at all. He casually goes to play with the sword in your hands, putting it back where you planned on threatening him and he leans just close enough so that if you wished you could drive it into his skull. Like a trust-fall! A trust-exercise between you both to see if you'd behave or try to crack him open like an egg. Smiling through the gap between you and the steel edge of your blade. "She's irrelevant. If she were here. She'd add a lot of meaningless dialogue. Right now I wish for your full, undivided, attention."

"Allow me to share with you my side of the story."

He raises his neck for your eyes. It isn't like he covers it up. But it's rare for him to brandish this mark so callously for others. It’s for you! It’s special for you. "I've been watching over you... to think you've forgotten everything."

"They're all fighting for you." He looks through his fingers-- undeniably you're you. Your confused expression gazes back at him. He winks at it. You squint your eyes even harder. He takes it as a win. ( He’s gained lots and lots of personal multiple little wins while watching you. ) "Wishing to use you and drain you of all of your worth. Despite being a human person, they've used you the moment they found you had an inch of worth. While we are no different..."

"We wished to be honest with you." He smiles as he steps closer. He notices how your hold on the blade tightens. You hold it still. It does not stutter or tremble. He leans in close enough that the outline of his neck is at the knife of the blade. "To allow you to understand us. We've been granted precious alone time. I'm here to show you we are not the villains...—“

He expected that if you did fight back. You'd hit him with your blade. Then he'd know to go to the next phase of the plan -- i.e. beat you up. Show you why they’re stronger. So the human, more basal part of you, would understand why not to resist and prove their worth through overtaking you. Offer to join the winning side.

It seems that's not what you're going to do.

"Let me stop you there." You step back and sheathe your blade. You've been exceptionally quiet. Mouth closed in a thin line. Eyebrows furrowed. Handsome. Beautiful. An odd mix of both words.. As he watched over you-- the most you said had to do with what that red-headed girl ( Chia? Chilichuck? What was her name? God. He basically ignored every word of theirs besides your dialogues.. your friends really did talk a lot.. The red-headed one with the gun especially annoyed him. ) And food. This is by all means a pleasant surprise. "Does everyone in this god-forsaken world speak in riddles?"

"Oh, but we have so much time! To explain it all would be no fun. It'd ruin the game." He widens his arms and shrugs his shoulders, showcasing the sight of the destruction behind him. "Besides, you wouldn't believe it if I told you. Would you? You have to come to conclusions on your own for them to matter. It's just me and you. No need to rush. Just trust the process."

You laugh at that for some reason. Scar clocks it. But, the fact you stop glaring seems like a good sign. Your smile is nice. So it does have the ability to be his way. Though, it appears you're laughing at him. He cherishes his victories however small and frames it on his mind-wall. "A town on the brink of destruction... if it wasn't us... how did it fall? A story of false devotion, fleeting kindness, senseless killings and the worst humanity has to offer... of course... there is only one truth. But history can take many different meanings dependent on the person. This is a world filled with oppressors and victims and..."

"That's not what I mean." Hm? Hmm? Hmmm...? "You're playing around. You wish to show me how sick this world is. You wish to understand how I'm being manipulated... that was your point from earlier... right? Stick with that. Are you trying to get me on your side or what? I'm tired of being dragged around."

Scar... has to take a moment... to process your words. Not really expecting... that. "Oh...? So you are listening! I’m glad! Well... inevitably. Yes, that is the point I wished to make. You and I are the same you see... both of us are outcasts... a story of a shepherd, it’s flock, and a black sheep—“ he does have a point to make, he thought really hard about the symbolism before coming here so it was easy to digest and everything.

"I'll join you." You hold out your hand towards his. "Scar, that's your name right? I'll join you right now. I'm not in the mood to play any more mind-games. If I join you. You don’t have reason to not tell me, right? You promised.”

Scar's world lights up.

He stares at your hand. It’s the one with your resonator mark no less— offered out to him. A sign of trust. An offer of companionship. You wiggle your fingers and ahem rather loudly. He immediately takes your hand with both of his own. Maybe a bit too frantically. Maybe a touch too desperately. The closeness is surprising to even him.

He studies your hand. He doesn’t remember the last time anyone’s offered their to his. And you did so unprompted. He feels the weight of your hand in his own. And he almost forgets what he’s here for—

"..." "Seriously?"

"Why are you acting surprised? Why did you even bother to meet me here if you weren't even open to the possibility of me joining you? Was it to sow the seeds? Slow-burn me? I'm not nearly as patient as you all seem to think I am." You cross your arms and huff. "Are you suddenly questioning whether or not I'm the resonator you're looking for? You're right. I don't remember anything. I'm not the hero anyone expects me to be. I'm not what you want from me either." “I want you to prove yourselves to me. You said you’re the ones in the right… that the others are just trying to use me.” You linger on those words. “If that’s true… well… you’re clearly suspicious, mentally deranged, to be honest I was tempted to hit you really bad just now... but... I don't exactly doubt your words. Every single person I've met has been..."

"Reliant on me." You gaze at the mark on the back of your wrist. "This is an equation of my worth. I can't disagree. No matter how hard I try to. That in itself is proof you have a point. So… it’s an avenue worth exploring.”

"..." "....." "Aha... ahahahaa... ahaaa... seriously?!" Scar doesn’t remember to use his indoor voice. He remembers after you jump a little. Doing his best to whisper. "Wait, no, that's bad. Oh, I'm so sorry... I was right... they... did use you as a pawn... and they made it so obvious… That you immediately..."

"You chose me." Scar is giddy. He couldn’t stop himself from smiling even if he wanted to. Each word. He falls a little deeper. "You weren't even forced into a corner. I didn't even have to make you do it.”

“You’re already understanding of how alone we are in this world…!”

"You're not really different from them. You just admit to it." You sigh. "You're worse in a way. I'd doubt they'd force me to help them."

You're insulting him but he's still on cloud nine-- you're joining them aren’t you? Purposefully reaching in to touch the filth you apparently so despise! Ah, they're hardly ready! They'd thought this take much longer... it's true. He doubted you would believe him. Believe any of them. Maybe the villainous appearance and rumors of sociopathy, psychopathy, and all of that doesn't quite help.

Whoopsies. ( He isn't very sorry. You chose him regardless and you would have anyway because he knows at the end of the road you would’ve realized the hopelessness and that you had no choice and all. But you chose him over them and saw through their deceit. Him. Him. Him. He’s the one who got you to change your mind— ) He really can’t find it in himself to care about how menacing he seems. His smile’s just too hard to wipe off…

"I want to understand the world you're fighting for." You sigh. "You see yourself in me, right? You were projecting pretty hard on me earlier... So the world you're trying to make..."

"It's a world which is better for me. And... I can't help but to wonder if you're not wholly in the wrong." You rub your wrist. Like the mark of skin burns. "I want to see.. how worse it gets... I want to see what you've seen. I'm just opening myself for understanding. Isn't that what you wanted? An open, honest, discussion.”

"You do have purpose behind the evil, right? I'm not going to join and you make me blow up an orphanage or something… you're morally-grey bad at worst." You pause to consider. "I don't really have a point of reference for the terrible things you've done actually. Maybe we can put this on hold until I get one-"

"No, no, no! Noooo orphanages! We're not monsters." Scar pouts. "You'll see, okay? I’m going to show you all the horrors! Then you’ll get it. We’re ultimately in the right.”

“You knocked out Yangyang.” You sigh. Detached. But the sentiment behind the words is there.

"So they did get you to care." Scar hums. "Shed your worries. Such useless feelings do little good... she'll be fine... see? We are willing to reason! This whole talk was to prove we can communicate. She wouldn’t listen to me. She wouldn’t even look at me. She’d keep us apart and spread her little lies.”

Okay, maybe he’s a bit jealous. Why was she so exceptionally close to you? He doesn’t even mind the gossip. Everyone talks to him like that. Looks at him in that way without ever understanding.

He’s the one who should have been offering free dinners, doing small little romanticisms, giving you small yearning gestures with you, not her. And he will from this point onward! And he will be the one to do it. Even if he has to pry you from the others…

( Seriously, why are you so popular? It just isn’t fair! He’s going to be fighting for crumbs when he brings you back to the base. He just can’t win. )

“If I shed all my worries then won’t I just be the same as any other sheep? It’s the wool that makes them look different.” You sigh while rubbing your arm. “What even is that metaphor about…?”

“Oh. I did use that metaphor, didn’t I? Yes, with fur so black! It was obvious against the rest of the flock… for black sheep are the outsiders! Those who go against the grain—“ Scar responds dumbly. Rambling, because he really is so happy! He's got you right where he wants you! You're not struggling, nor running away, you've walked right into his arms! And he didn’t plan this far at all. So, his mind’s a bit fumbled. This is the best first date likely in the history of ever. Though, he notices your unimpressed look. Thus, he straightens his back and smiles as gentlemanly he can muster pounding his fist against his own chest considering you’ve made it a point that you hate long-talk. “— anyway, yes, shepherd evil, white sheep stupid, black sheep good.“

He looks at you to see how well you’ve taken his shortened explanation. You use your other hand to facepalm. ( He hasn’t let go of your arm. He realizes. You haven’t pulled your arm back. This sparks joy. This sparks incredible joy. He holds it even tighter. And you don’t even struggle. )

“I should have done the puzzle first. Lacking lots of subtext.” Is what you put together from his explanation. “Just explain on the way. Come on. I’ll lose brain cells if I’m here for any longer.”

Right.

He’s taking you home. You’re still not gone. You’re here with him.

You’re with him.

"Ahaha.” he rambles, graining traction as his grin grows more manic, he can feel his skin getting hotter, the urge to hold you tightly within his hands and explain growing stronger with each passing moment, every second, every millisecond. It’s a feeling you wish to feel forever. “You want to listen to me.”

And he will feel it forever. He’ll make it so. He doesn’t have to wait any longer.

"There’s so much to tell you. About this world.” he cackles, loudly, his voice crackling throughout the air with a reinvigorated passion as he leans close to your ear to whisper with as much love as his dried up little heart has. Putting it all for you. “And I’ll tell you about all of it.”

"Okay. I seriously don’t know how the hell you expected me to trust you." You whisper. Tired? Yes. Terribly so. You so hope Yangyang can't hear him. From wherever he's put her. Shadow Realm or whatever. "You’re making me regret this already—“

"NO!" he rushes forward and leap-hugs you. "Noooo take-backs. You already said it! So you can’t take it back. That’s how it works. When you say it. It’s forever.”

“That’s not how it works-“

"You're all mine, forever.”

"Agh-- hey!" You yelp... a touch high-pitched. He squeezes you tightly and you see the flash of smoke-- Yangyang's passed out body on the ground. You shut your eyes, awkwardly looking away. You’ll know she’ll be saved soon. “I’m coming. I’m coming, okay?”

Perhaps you're even better than his wildest dreams. Well, he'd love you as much regardless. Whether or not you came now or later. This is a drastic changes of plans. But a pleasant one.

His cards fly through the air and they capture you both-- you hold onto him. His laugher resonating loudly, a wicked sound which is proof of the choice you’ve made. A choice you’ve made which you certainly can’t entirely turn back from no matter how hard you try to reverse you’re being taken along.

More like dragged. He’s holding your hand like you’ll run if you don’t. ( He’s not exactly wrong. ) You just awkwardly hold back. Unaware you don’t even need to be touching him to get warp-jumped.

He doesn’t exactly tell you either or warn you or do anything to stop you. Instead encouraging it by opening his arms out so you can hold on properly.

As you’re flashed away through a red door… the person you’ve decided to trust manically laughing as you phase through that door. “There’s so much… to tell you! Well let’s start at the very beginning…!”

No matter where you are you’re susceptible to lore dumps. At least he’s excited about it. You wonder how long he’s been holding this in.

You close your eyes tight and just hold on tight as you embrace your new life.

Again.

[ayyy-pee]

Center Stage

suguru whimpers as he pounds into you, folds your legs until there’s a knee on each side of your head. you're so good he has to bite back a gasp when your walls squeeze down on him, gripping his cock so fucking hard he sees stars. his eyes roll back when he reaches a hand down to your clit, swollen and sensitive and he feels the sudden gush of your arousal drip down between your bodies. suguru loves how your tight little cunt always takes him so well, how it makes room for him and holds him like it never wants to let go.

every thrust, every roll of his hips, every slap of your skin meeting has suguru leaning down to groan into the crook of your neck. he doesn’t let up, pounding into you like a man possessed. and he is. your pussy makes him insane, makes him want to scream, makes him want to fucking cry.

it feels like heaven in your walls.

suguru loves to look between you, where your bodies connect and see the creamy mess you’ve made on him. fuck he loves how your pussy always makes a mess. it’s one of his favorite things about you.

that and the way your lips part when he pistons his hips a certain way, touches that sweet spot you love. how your head falls back and your back arches when he wraps his thick fingers around your neck, makes you hold his weight as he fucks into you with reckless abandon. the way your little moans fall from that pretty mouth he loves to bury his cock in. he loves all of that.

he loves the way your hands find his hair and you pull. not gentle at all, just the way he likes. you’re as a desperate and fucking needy as he is.

“come on baby. tell me how much you love my cock.” he pleads. he knows you love it. you've told him plenty of times. but suguru also loves to get his ego stroked.

“i love it, ah- fuck, fuck i love your cock!” you whimper beneath him like the good girl you always are. all he ever has to do is ask and you’ll deliver every time. so obedient. it’s why you’re his favorite.

suguru can feel your walls softly convulsing around him. you’re so close. but while your words were good, they’re weren’t good enough. so suguru slows his pace, staring down at you with half lidded eyes. he wants you to do it right.

“pretty girl forgot her manners,” he chides, clicking his tongue. “i love your cock, what?”

he bottoms out with a particularly harsh thrust that has you crying out, your fingers tightening in his tresses and he chuckles, his dick twitching within the confines of your cunt.

“oh fuck! i love your cock master geto”

there it is.

you peer up through your lashes at the man above you and the smug smile on suguru’s lips sends you spiraling over the edge, your orgasm rushing over you, your body shivering as wave after wave hits you. and your sweet lips muttering his formal title, it has him burying his face in your neck again, whining as his hips stutter with every sloppy thrust until his balls tighten.

he grips your thigh hard, high pitched whimpers falling freely from his mouth as his cock stiffens and his hot, white seed fills your twitching pussy. the release has suguru shaking, struggling to hold his weight as your pussy milks him of every fucking drop.

you’re both panting, both catching your breath as suguru kisses you desperately, pressing kisses to your face, to your lips. and he’s still cumming

“m-master geto,” you mutter between kisses. he hasn’t pulled out of you, just keeps rolling his hips into your slowly, softly as he continues to litter your lips and face with kisses.

suguru hums in acknowledgment.

“you’ll be late to session tonight,” you warn him. “you know there will be big donors there. you don’t want to be late.”

ah yes, the work never stops for suguru. he would love to stay here, on the floor of his stage but it wouldn’t be a good look to have his donors and worshippers walk in on you both in the middle of such a salacious act.

and you, his most favorite follower. there's no way in hell allow anyone to leave the room alive if they saw you this way. no, you're meant to be seen by him this way and him alone. even with your current situation, he knows you are loyal to him. so with a hiss, suguru pulls out of you, smirking when he sees the way you pout at the loss of fullness.

cute.

“come and see me after session” he tells you with one last press of his lips to yours. he crawls off of you carefully and fixes his robe. you nod, watching as he exits the room.

he knows where to find you.

suguru always finds you the moment he enters the room, packed with worshippers ready to give themselves to him. and you’re among them, loyal as ever to him, even as you bow politely and pledge yourself to the organization alongside your husband.

[hayakawalove]

Survival Skills

Summary: Suguru has to go on a business trip, leaving you and Satoru to fend for yourselves. Will you be able to? A/N: I really really like this fic. I thought the idea of you and Gojo trying to figure out how to manage without Suguru would be very funny. I doubt Suguru minds caring for either of you, my whole thing about him is that he needs to be needed. Comments always appreciated!

CW: SFW, Fluff, Polyamory, Food, Teasing, Humor, Comfort, Light Angst, Suggestive Joke, Very Mild Infidelity Joke, Gender Neutral Reader, They/Them Reader W/C: 6,697

Credit to Benkeibear for the banner

“Alright, I made some garden pasta for the both of you. It’s in the fridge. I also left out some recipes in case you guys go through that fast.” 

You stand next to the door, staring up at Suguru as he lists off the food he had left for you and Satoru. He was such a worrier, if you didn’t know any better you would think Suguru thought the both of you might starve the second he left. 

On second thought, you might. 

“Thank you Suguru-“ you start. 

“And I left some chicken in the fridge for tonight’s dinner. It just needs to be cooked, I already marinated it, it's that one you liked from-“ He interrupts you, his lips twisted in a frown. 

“-Thank you, Suguru.” You grab him by the arms, holding him firmly as you cut him off. 

Suguru stops talking, no doubt getting the message. You had been trying to get him out the door for thirty minutes now, you were certain the taxi driver outside was nearly losing his mind. 

Suguru peeks over your head, sliding past you to walk towards Satoru. He was laying on the couch, his long limbs hanging over the edge. You really should get a bigger couch. 

Suguru leans down and places a kiss on Satoru’s lips, almost melting down when Satoru lifts a hand up to hold the back of his head. The sight almost brings you to your knees. 

“Do you really have to go?” Satoru asks when Suguru peels himself off. 

Suguru hums before squeezing Satoru’s shoulder, turning around to face you once more. 

“Are you sure you guys are going to be okay?” Worry is etched into his face. 

“Yes, mom. We'll be fine.” You reassure him, even though the words feel hollow. 

Would you be fine? You and Satoru were grown adults, fully capable of handling yourselves. 

“If Satoru got an extra kiss, I want one too.” 

Suguru’s face relaxes into a smile as he leans down, placing a gentle hand on your cheek. His lips slip perfectly between yours. You have to fight the urge to drag him back inside. 

A horn sounds out, breaking the tender moment.The cab was still waiting. 

“Okay. Text me if you need anything.” Suguru speaks, punctuating each word with a kiss. 

The overt signs of affection soothe your nerves the slightest bit. Everything would be fine. And you wouldn’t be completely alone. Satoru would be here with you.

Your fingers tremble as you close the door behind Suguru, and an unnerving silence begins to take hold of your residence. It wouldn’t be silent for long though, not when you had Satoru in the house. 

“So what do you wanna do now? We could throw a rager and party till the cops show up.” Satoru proposes. 

You snort and drag your feet away from the door, bringing yourself to the couch. 

“We would need to have friends to do that, Satoru.” 

“Wh- I have friends, don’t know about you though.” 

You roll your eyes while he snickers to himself. Your foot nudges his leg, and he clicks his tongue. You wouldn’t throw a party, although the noise and commotion would have been greatly appreciated. 

“Come on, why don’t we eat some of the leftovers Suguru made and put something on.” 

Satoru sighs dramatically at your denial of a party before sitting up. 

You dish out two bowls of garden pasta for the two of you, your stomach rumbling at the mere sight of Suguru’s cooking. Satoru puts on your favorite show while the two of you start to eat. The food tasted amazing, like always. When Suguru first entered your life, you were sure that eventually you would get used to his cooking, but no. It amazed you every single time you had it. 

At first, it was sort of nice having some extra personal time with Satoru. Being in a polyamorous relationship could be difficult at times, trying to navigate the best way to divide your attention. With Suguru on a business trip, the two of you were able to spend some much needed time together. You even noticed that Satoru clung onto you a little more when you slept, no longer having to share you with Suguru. 

When you wake up in the morning, the bed is decidedly more cold than it was the previous day. You turn your head to the right, Suguru’s designated spot, only to be met with air. You feel a heavy weight against you, long limbs tangled in yours. Satoru. His arm is thrown across your body while his bottom half is laying on top of you, his legs on yours. It was suffocating. But it was just what you needed with the lack of Suguru. 

You close your eyes and focus on Satoru’s breathing. It's a steady pattern, one that could lull you back to sleep if you weren’t careful. It was the weekend so realistically, you and Satoru could stay in bed all day if you wanted to. The idea sounded nice, but you needed something first. 

You jostle your legs, causing Satoru to grumble. You pinch his arm and he yelps, squeezing you tighter. 

“I know you’re awake, Satoru.” 

“No I'm not.” He responds, voice devoid of any sleepiness. 

“I'm hungry,” you whine “you should make us crepes. Suguru left the recipe.” 

Satoru’s eyes flick open and you’re almost startled by the blue looking at you. His hair was ruffled, an adorable look on him. 

“Why don't you make it?” 

The two of you could go back and forth for hours; this was why it was good to have Suguru there to cook. 

“Because I just woke up, I’ll make dinner when we run out of leftovers.” 

Satoru thinks for a moment, before dramatically groaning, pushing himself up. He’s wearing a loose white shirt with black pants, and he looks so cozy you almost felt bad for making him get up. You did need to eat though, and so did he. 

You trudge after him, plopping on a stool at the bar as you watch him navigate the kitchen. He looks confident, like he belongs there, even though you know damn well he hasn’t cooked a thing since Suguru walked into his life. 

You're telling him about your dream as he holds a mixing bowl, leaning his back against the counter as he listens to you while stirring the crepe batter. You decide on Nutella and strawberries for the fillings, the mere thought of it making your mouth water. 

“And then when we left the house, you got struck by lightning-“ you’re talking before he interrupts you. 

“Hah? You killed me off in your dream?” His eyebrows are touching his hairline, looking the slightest bit offended. 

“I can't control my dreams! You can't either. Remember when you had that spicy dream about-“ 

He rushes to cut you off, not wanting to be reminded of it. You weren’t sure why he told you stuff, he knew you would just tease him after. It wasn’t like he was any better. 

“Okay okay, point taken. Kill off Suguru next time though, yeah?” He turns around, and starts to pour the batter into a pan to cook. 

“Duly noted.” You remark, picking up a strawberry to pop into your mouth. 

Satoru faces you again as the crepe cooks, his fingers tapping his arm. He looked impatient. He usually was. You drag your eyes down his body before bringing them back up to his face, where you notice he's already staring at you. 

“See something you like?” He comments, a cocky grin on his face. 

“I do, you wanna go out some time? My boyfriends not home.” 

Satoru chuckles and walks towards the bar, leaning over in front of you. 

He reaches across it and grabs your hand, turning it over until your palm is facing up. He looks calculated as he stares down, running his thumb over the skin, light enough it almost tickles. A small smirk appears on his lips once he sees you squirming out of the corner of his eyes. 

“Wanna play rock paper scissors on who has to do the dishes?” You ask. 

He flicks his blue eyes up to you. 

“I’m cooking, why don’t you do dishes?” 

“Oh, so you’re afraid of losing.” You prod, knowing you’ll get a reaction. 

Satoru sneers and stands up straight with his hand out. You reach out too, noticing the size difference of your fists. 

“Ready?” You wait a moment. “Rock, paper, scissors, shoot-“ 

You lay your hand flat while he keeps his in a fist. Satoru’s brows furrow while you grin. His lips twitch while he looks up at you and pouts, always a sore loser. 

“Two out of three?” He proposes, already getting his hand ready for the next round.

You jokingly roll your eyes and set your hand out again. Satoru’s looking at you intently, his tongue poking out the side of his mouth, eyes wide as if he could predict your next move. 

He was able to, apparently. 

“Rock, paper, scissors, shoot-“ 

You put down scissors, and his hand is formed into a rock. Satoru cackles and taps your scissors, happy with himself. 

“Don’t get ahead of yourself pretty boy, there’s still one round left.” 

The two of you get into position for the final game. There’s a distinct smell floating over to your nose, and you crinkle it as you look over Satoru’s shoulder. 

“Satoru, I think it’s burning-“ 

“Yeah yeah hold on, let’s go.” Satoru’s in the zone. 

You shrug and straighten in your seat. 

“Rock, paper, scissors, shoot-“ you recite. 

You put down scissors and he puts down paper. You chuckle as you snip at his hand. He juts his lip out as he grieves his loss, and you almost feel bad. The smell is getting stronger now, and Satoru’s finally picking up on it. 

“Oh, shit- why didn’t you tell me it was burning?” He turns around and fumbles, rushing over to the burner. 

You give him a deadpan stare, shoving another strawberry in your mouth. 

“Gotta cook, gotta clean, gotta do everything around here.” Satoru’s mumbling under his breath. 

“I know, you’re like Suguru.” 

Satoru dumps the burnt crepe in the trash before turning around, pouring more batter in the pan. You watch him from behind as he cooks, his hip popping to the side as he rests a hand on it, tapping his foot as he waits for the crepe. The sight was borderline mouthwatering. 

Once the crepes are finished, Satoru sits next to you as the two of you decorate them, slathering the chocolate spread on and placing strawberries neatly down. While he burned the first one, all the others turned out perfect. Leave it to Satoru to be good at something. He groans in satisfaction as he takes a bite of his. 

Breakfast was good, decidedly so, but there was something missing as you ate. Or rather, someone was missing. 

~~~

You lay on your stomach on your bed as you gaze at your phone. You were calling Suguru, hoping to catch a glimpse of him before you went to bed. 

The phone flashes the second he answers and your head perks up. 

“Suguru!” 

“Hey baby.”

Your heart falters at the sound of his silky tone. 

“How was your day?” He asks. 

He’s lying in a hotel bed, dark circles beneath his eyes as he watches your face. The sight hurts you. He’s made an off-handed comment before that he didn’t sleep well without you and Satoru. Your fingers twitch with the need to reach through the screen to grab him. 

“It was okay, how was yours?” 

“It was alright. Nothing interesting has happened yet,” he pauses and his eyes flick down before he brings them back up to you. “Wish I was home though.” 

“Do you?” You tease, your teeth digging into your cheek. 

“I do. It's a bit weird. I haven’t had this much alone time since Satoru got the stomach flu in school, and even then he was calling me every hour to baby him.” 

You let out a laugh. 

Suguru gets up from his bed and carries the phone with him. It looks like he’s in the bathroom now, you can tell with the shower curtains behind him. He’s shirtless with a pair of pajama pants on, they were red plaid that hung low on his waist. It was a Christmas gift you had gotten him several years ago. Even though he was far away, there was still evidence of your love on his body. 

Suguru sets you on the counter, digging his teeth in the hair tie around his wrist. It hangs from his mouth as his hands comb through his hair, putting it into a bun. You’re mesmerized as you watch the action. 

“Satoru tried making your crepes earlier.” You comment, watching Suguru. 

He hums to prove he’s listening, as he stares into the mirror. You watch his tight stomach as he washes his hands, leaning forward to pull out his contacts. 

“They turned out okay. The second batch anyway. The first batch he got distracted and almost burnt the house down.” 

Suguru blinks a couple times before looking down at you, his eyes squinting. 

“I’m kidding! Well, kind of. We were playing rock paper scissors and he was losing, so he was distracted and the first one burnt. I won by the way.” 

Suguru lifts up his phone and carries you back to the bed, sitting down and sliding on his glasses. He always thought he looked the worst at bedtime, unpresentable he said, but you always thought it was when he looked best. 

“Oh hey, you talking to Suguru?” Satoru enters the bedroom and asks, flopping down. 

He inches up the bed, and lays on top of you, pushing his weight on your back while he grabs the phone, pointing it towards him. 

“You miss us so much you just had to call?” Satoru says lightly. 

“Sure, Satoru.” Suguru’s face softens as he watches him. 

“Did they tell you that I won rock paper scissors?” Satoru goes on. 

You wiggle beneath him, trying to distribute his weight. Fruitless effort. 

“No, they didn’t. They did tell me that they won, though.” 

Satoru plasters on a shocked face and uses his other hand to push your face down towards the bed. You chuckle beneath him, poking your head up again. 

“I’m being bullied in your absence, you know.” Satoru tells Suguru. 

“Well, someone has to keep you in line.” 

You giggle beneath Satoru. It was true. Someone had to manage Satoru while Suguru was gone. 

“I have to head to bed, got an early day tomorrow. I love you both.” Suguru says, and you can tell he really doesn’t want to hang up. 

“Okay… I love you!” You try to make your voice cheery. 

“I love you more!” Satoru almost yells. 

The two of you smile at the camera until Suguru clicks off. You try not to let the silence get to you. 

~~~

The next several days were relatively harmless. Suguru called every day, sometimes multiple times if he had the time. You finally ran out of the garden pasta and chicken leftovers, much to your chagrin. Satoru had eaten more than you thought he would. It was because he told you he thought the two tupperware were his, and that there were two others in the fridge for you. When he overheard Suguru saying he put leftovers for the both of you in the fridge, he took that as there was a container for each of you. 

There wasn’t. 

So here you are. 

You end up driving to the store as Satoru was a self proclaimed Passenger Princess. He talked to you the whole time while shuffling through his playlist. 

When the two of you arrive, Satoru makes a beeline to the carts. His lanky figure hunches over as he pushes it, walking at a much slower pace to keep up with you. Satoru and Suguru usually walked extremely fast, given their freakishly long legs. 

And they made fun of you for being slow. 

Satoru always offered to give you piggy back rides, but you only made that mistake once. You were green in the face once he finished, sick for the rest of the day. 

“What’s on the list?” Satoru asks, eyes trailing over the shelves.

You look down at the paper in front of you, carefully reading Suguru’s neat handwriting. 

“Beef, noodles, broccoli, ginger, and green onion.” You read off. 

You link your arm around Satoru’s (he wasn’t the only one who was feeling extra needy while Suguru was gone). Satoru’s arm is thick and hard underneath yours, the result of working out daily for years. Calling it mere eye candy would be gross negligence. 

The two of you had gotten everything on the list, save for the noodles. You were debating in the middle of the aisle between two different packs. 

“Why can’t we just get that one? Comes with more.” Satoru says, pointing to the package in your right hand. It was twice the size of the other one. 

“Cause it’s not the brand Suguru wrote down.” You respond, eyes flicking back and forth. 

It would be nice to have extra, but still… 

“They’re both noodles.” Satoru remarks. 

“Do you want it to taste like Suguru’s?” 

You take Satoru’s silence as an answer, stuffing the larger package back on the shelf. Honestly, you didn’t really see the need to get the specific brand either. But Suguru was meticulous, and you decided you would be too, in his stead. 

You throw the noodles in the cart, feeling a deep sense of satisfaction flow through you. See? You didn’t need Suguru to function. You normally did shopping with him anyway, but you tended to just talk his ear off the whole time while he picked out what he needed. He liked the company, he said. 

When you turn around, you see Satoru shifting everything in the cart. You raise your brows, waiting for him to explain. 

“Get in.” He lifts his head up, signaling for you to hop in. 

You dart your eyes back and forth between the cart and him. 

“I’m not- we could get in trouble-“

“Oh, so you’re a scaredy cat.” Satoru has a shit eating grin as he leans against the cart. 

Now that was something you couldn’t have. You grumble to him and take his hand as he helps you crawl into the cart. It’s a bit fun, you feel joy sparking in your body the second he moves the cart. He pushes it fast before jumping on the back with both feet, letting the momentum carry the two of you. Your laughter fills the air and Satoru’s grinning at you. You felt so carefree, momentarily forgetting the sadness that lurked beneath. 

What feels like an earthquake shocks you from your moment of joy. You whip your head around to the front of the cart, eyes popping out once you see the cause. Your cart had knocked into someone else’s, the older woman scowling at you. 

“You need to watch where you're-“ she starts, her gaze moving from you to Satoru, “-going.” Her words sound light as she stares up at Satoru, clearly in awe of his beauty. 

“I’m sorry, that was my bad.” Satoru says with a chuckle, scratching the back of his head. 

The woman sputters as she stares up at him. Lucky bastard. He could start a war, and apologize right after and get away with it. Pretty privileges. 

“It’s-it’s okay. Just try to be careful? You wouldn't want to get hurt.” She says, aiming her words at Satoru, even though you were in the one in the cart. 

The audacity. 

“Yes! Thank you!” Satoru is smooth as he waves her off. He doesn’t stop smiling until she’s out of sight. 

“You’re unbelievable.” You murmur under your breath, looking up at him. 

Satoru drops his head to look down at you, and you’re almost startled at the intensity of his eyes. You weren’t immune to his beauty either. 

“It’s not my fault old women love me.” 

“Everyone loves you.” 

Satoru grins, shoving the cart before jumping on it again. He didn’t learn anything. You can’t be mad though, not with the way you start to laugh in fun again. The two of you travel down the aisles, slipping different treats into the cart, shoving them on your lap. 

Satoru pays and the two of you head out, the daunting task of cooking dinner resting on your shoulders. 

~~~

You stand in the kitchen feeling completely out of place as you stare at the ingredients before you. It wasn’t a hard recipe by any means, Suguru picked it for its ease. But it was still incredibly daunting. With a sigh, you begin to start cooking the meat, trying to shove the nerves from your mind. You kicked Satoru out of the kitchen, banishing him to your bedroom while you cooked so he wouldn't distract you. 

It was going okay, it really was, it smelled and even looked delicious. That was until you added the garlic powder. You swear it came out faster than it normally did, probably intent on ruining your night if you had to guess. Your eyes stare at the lump of powder in the pan before you rush to mix it, hoping by some miracle that it would dilute. 

You turn the stove off with a dissatisfied expression, glaring at the meal as if it personally did you wrong. A heavy garlic smell hangs in the air, permeating in the small kitchen, as if to shove your face in the failure. 

“Satoru! It’s… done.” You mumble the last part. 

Satoru comes bounding out of the bedroom, a large grin on his face that twitches the second he reaches you before he forces it back. 

“Smells great!” He comments. 

Your lip wobbles into a frown as you stare up at him. 

“Satoru.” 

“Whaatt? I’m serious. Smells fantastic.” He puts an emphasis on the last word. 

You have to keep a sob from bubbling up your throat. You knew there was no way you could compete with Suguru. Turning around, you mope while grabbing bowls, dishing out the dinner for you two. A dinner that would kill any vampire, even if they just looked at it. 

Hanging your head in shame you nudge Satoru’s bowl over to him. Honestly, you were debating if it would have just been better to starve for the night. Satoru grabs his chopsticks and immediately dives in, shoving the utensils in his mouth once he has a hefty amount of food piled on. 

“Wait-!” You try to stop him, although you're not even sure what you’d say. 

Satoru bounces his head side to side as if he’s thinking, his pale cheeks puffed out from the amount of noodles he had. Your eyes are wide open as you stare at him, unsure if you would need to grab water or google how to do the Heimlich maneuver. 

“It’s good!” Satoru says, chopsticks snapping as he picks even more. 

Your mouth is hung open as you witness him chowing down on the food. He can’t be serious. It’s bad. You know it’s bad. 

Why is he lying? 

“Satoru- it’s okay, you don’t, you don’t have to keep eating it, we can order something.” You move to grab his bowl from him. 

Satoru slaps your hand and flicks his lashes up to you. His face is incredibly serious, and for the life of you, you can’t figure out why. 

“I want this.” He maintains eye contact as he grabs more, slipping it past his pink lips. 

You feel exposed under his gaze so you look away, crossing your chest. Is he trying to prove something to you? 

“We should tell Suguru he’s kicked out of the kitchen once he comes back, since you can cook.” 

“Okay, now that feels like you’re making fun of me.” 

“I’m serious! How’d you get the meat so tender?” He’s speaking around mouthfuls of food. 

The meat was tender. You were actually really proud of it, even snapping a picture to send to Suguru. The food was going good until the incident. 

You poke and prod at your food, taking several bites before you nudge the bowl away. Satoru may be able to put on a brave face as he eats it, but you’re much weaker than him. 

Not only does Satoru eat his bowl, he gets seconds, leaving next to nothing in the pan once he finishes. The first couple bites amazed you, how could he pretend it wasn’t bad? Then he had more, and more, and you were starting to worry the copious amounts of garlic had killed his taste buds. 

You were still hungry so once he finishes, he stands up to make you instant ramen. It wasn’t the healthiest of meals, sure, but at least you weren’t going to go hungry. Satoru sits next to you and watches as you dive in, much more eager to eat this than the monstrosity you created. He has love in his eyes as he stares, opening his mouth wide when you offer him a bite. 

Just where did all that food go? 

“All done?” He asks, standing up to grab your bowl. 

You aren’t even feeling upset anymore. Satoru was good at that, though. He always knew how to cheer you up, using his ridiculousness to his advantage. 

“Thank you, Satoru.” You murmur and wrap your arms around him. 

He uses his free hand to pull you in closer. When you look up at him you feel like you’re floating; you had so much love in your heart for him. Satoru leans down, lips pushed out in an attempt to kiss you. 

You could smell the garlic from where you’re sitting. 

You press your hand against his mouth and attempt to push him away. 

“N-no! I don’t wanna kiss your garlic lips.”

“Baby, you’re so mean to me!” He presses against your hand, face inching closer to yours. 

“Get away from me!” You screech with a laugh, running to your bedroom. 

Satoru cackles behind you, pushing the dirty dishes in the sink to clean later, before he chases after you. 

~~~

Several days had passed since the night you cooked for Satoru. Suguru would be coming home today, you think. It was hard to remember. The days had blended together in a conglomeration of time without Suguru. You were excited to see him again. You hadn’t slept well the past couple of days. You hadn’t slept at all for the past two, really. No matter how warm Satoru felt hogging you at night, his limbs wrapping around you like an octopus, your right side still felt remarkably cold. There was a hole in your bed, a Suguru shaped one. 

He’d be home today. He’d be home. 

When Suguru arrives home, he feels something like excitement and relief wash over him. He was able to come home way earlier than anticipated. The sun was barely starting to peek over the clouds, he wasn’t supposed to be back until dinner time. Suguru digs into his pocket once he’s stopped at the door, rummaging around until he grabs hold of his keys. He carefully pushes them in the door, not wanting to wake you. 

The house is silent when he walks in, almost eerily so. Is this what Satoru was used to? He was always the early bird out of the three of you, waking up hours before you and Suguru even thought to. Suguru keeps his steps light as he walks into the house, leaving his bags by the door. The first thing he notices is a bump of hair poking out above the couch. Your hair. 

Why were you out here? 

Kicking Satoru out, he would understand. But you? 

Suguru makes his way closer to you, standing behind the couch. He leans over and places a hand on your shoulder, trying to catch a glimpse of your face. You jump in your seat and screech, your phone flying from your hands. Suguru winces once it makes impact with the floor, and brings his eyes back to you. 

You looked… awful. 

There are dark circles underneath your frenzied eyes, your chest heaving as you stare at Suguru. Once you’re able to comprehend that it’s just him, you twirl around and jump over the couch at him. 

Suguru instantly wraps his arms around you so you won’t drop. 

Are you… lighter? 

“Suguru!” Your words are muffled into his neck, your breathing tickling the side of his throat. 

He feels relief at the weight of you against him. He missed being crushed by the presence of you and Satoru. Suguru lifts a hand up and holds the back of your head, shifting his fingers into your hair. The two of you stand like this until he begrudgingly sets you down. 

Your eyes are lit up as you stare at him, your body practically jumping up and down. 

“You’re here early! Right? What time is it? What day is it?” You ask. 

Suguru’s brow lifts up as he watches you, only tearing his eyes away to stare at his watch. It was very early. 

“Why are you awake?” He asks, looking at you. 

The definition of guilt pinches up on your face. You look away, suddenly finding everything else in the room much more interesting than him, even though you were attached to him moments ago. 

Suguru waits for an answer that doesn’t come. 

“How long have you been awake?” His voice is deeper this time. 

He knows he found the sore spot by the way you wince. Suguru says your name in a reprimanding tone. 

“I am willfully choosing not to answer.” You murmur. 

Suguru grabs your chin, forcing you to look up at him. His heart breaks at the sight. Sure, he probably also looked like he hadn’t slept well in awhile. But that was him, and you are you. And you’re his baby. 

Suguru repeats your name a second time, voice much softer. Your face relaxes as you sag in his hold. 

“Two… days.” You respond quietly, Suguru has to strain his ears to hear the end of it. 

Suguru normally tries not to overreact. That was left to Satoru. But he can’t stop the way his eyes bulge from his head, his lips parting in shock. 

“Huh?” He feels the sudden urge to wrap you up and tuck you away. 

“It’s not my fault! The bed was just so cold… and then I got distracted by my phone, which-” you look over your shoulder at your phone on the floor “-shouldn’t be a problem anymore.” 

Suguru’s heart tugs into guilt. He knew that wasn’t what you were intending. You would never want to make him feel bad. 

You couldn’t sleep without him? 

Suguru sighs and pulls you into a warm hug. You nestle into his embrace, your face smooshing against his broad chest. Suguru swears he can feel himself drifting off to dreamland, but he forces himself out. 

He pulls away and reaches over the couch to grab a blanket. He wraps it tightly around your body, including the back of your head. You look a bit like you’re in a cocoon by the time he’s done. He pulls it tight around your chest, and grabs your face with both hands. 

“Go lay down.” His voice is soft but commanding. “I’m gonna cook something, I’ll get you when it’s ready.” 

You look to the ground like a scolded child as you nod, dragging your feet towards the bedroom. Suguru feels a renewed sense of responsibility as he watches you trudge away. He takes a deep breath and looks around. 

Where was Satoru? 

Suguru knew he would be up. At least, he should be up. Suguru walks into the house, going towards the kitchen. He finds Satoru sitting at the table facing away from him, looking down. 

“Satoru?” Suguru says to announce his presence, learning from his mistake. 

Satoru’s head whips around, tossing his phone on the table while he bounces up to his feet. He charges toward Suguru, jumping up until he’s latched around him. Suguru doesn’t have to hold him in place, he can feel Satoru’s legs wrapped tightly against his back. Suguru sways in place and smoothes a hand down Satoru’s back. He peers over Satoru’s shoulder to the table where he notices a bowl of something. Ice cream. 

A wave of smell coming from Satoru’s shampoo washes over Suguru, and he buries his face into the side of Satoru’s neck even more. He missed that smell. 

Suguru pulls Satoru away, reaching behind to unlatch Satoru’s limbs from his body. He sets him down and looks at him, able to maintain eye contact without looking down. 

Satoru looked good. He thought so, at least. He looked wide awake, probably having been awake for at least thirty minutes. Suguru adjusts one of Satoru’s stray white hairs, before looking him up and down. 

“When’s the last time you ate something green?” Suguru asks, knowing that would be Satoru’s issue once Suguru was gone. 

Satoru looks over his own shoulder to the table at his bowl of ice cream. His bowl of mint chocolate chip ice cream. 

“Uh, now?” Satoru responds, looking back at Suguru. 

Suguru squints at Satoru, clearly unimpressed. 

“Have I told you how handsome you are lately?” Satoru goes on. 

“Finish what you have, but I’m making something for everyone. I’m gonna make sure to put lots of vegetables in it, just for you.” 

Satoru whines as Suguru turns around, tying his hair up and shoving his sleeves out of the way. 

You’re nestled in the sheets of your bed when Suguru’s voice pulls you from the deep sleep you managed to find yourself in. It was like just knowing Suguru was in the house was enough to calm your nerves to grant you rest. You twist and turn in the bed, debating on whether or not to bring the blanket with you. You hadn’t realized how exhausted you were until Suguru woke you up, and you found yourself wanting to go back to sleep. 

A delicious smell carries over to the bedroom, snapping you out of your haze. The one thing you missed more than sleep was Suguru’s cooking. 

You jump out of bed and make your way to the kitchen. Suguru’s standing next to the stove, a spatula in hand as he looks down. He isn’t wearing his sweater anymore, instead he was wearing a loose white shirt. Satoru is sitting on the counter next to him with a bowl held firmly in his hands, a spoon in his mouth. He’s wearing Suguru’s sweater now, and you don’t doubt for a second that he begged Suguru for it. 

You didn’t blame him. You wanted to drown in Suguru just as much. 

“Is it ready?” You ask, lifting a fist up to wipe the sleep from your eyes. 

Suguru turns around and a soft smile grows on his face as he watches you. You really were his baby. 

“Just about, will you take Satoru’s dishes? He won’t let me have them.” 

“I’m not done yet!” Satoru complains, gripping the bowl closer to him. 

“Satoru, the bowl is empty.” Suguru says, as if he’s already repeated that. 

Satoru digs his spoon back into the bowl, lifting it up to his lips again. The bowl was empty. There were only melted remains of the ice cream clinging to the glass, Satoru scooping it up and easing it past his lips. 

You walk up to him and try to tug the bowl from his hands. On the second tug Satoru finally relents, letting you take the dish to the sink. That was one thing you did right. There were no dirty dishes, the house was in relatively clean condition in general. You refused to let Suguru come home to a messy house. 

Suguru dishes out three bowls for you all, evenly distributing the food. Your mouth is watering by the time he’s done, and you’re diving in the second he gives you yours. 

The food all but melts in your mouth. It was so good. And it didn’t reek of garlic. Suguru stands in the kitchen as he eats, watching you and Satoru sit at the bar. There’s an easy smile on his face as he watches you both, only looking away to shovel more food into his mouth. 

“I’m sorry for making you cook.” You mumble around the food, guilt tugging at your chest. 

You really were pathetic, you could hardly survive with him out of the house. He just got back from his trip, yet he dropped everything to take care of you. 

Suguru picks up on the sadness on your face. 

“I don’t mind, really. I was craving a home cooked meal anyway.” 

Satoru’s lips twitch into a smile. He’s up to something. 

“If you wanted a home cooked meal you should have just said so. They made beef noodles while you were gone, we actually saved the leftovers.” 

Your face heats up, and you kick Satoru’s leg besides yours. 

“Shut up! No I didn’t, Suguru!” 

Suguru’s brow is raised as he watches the two of you bicker. 

“Did you? I didn’t see it.” He talks under his breath as he turns around, opening the fridge to look into it. 

“Suguru!” You whine. 

“It’s in the-“ Satoru’s voice is muffled as he speaks through your hand, “-the front in the container.” 

Suguru reaches to grab it, turning around to set it on the counter. They were the leftovers you hadn’t eaten, as Satoru had consumed everything else. Your face is scrunched up as you watch Suguru open the lid. 

A strong smell of garlic fills the area and you sob, covering your face with your hands. Embarrassed didn’t even cover the half of it. 

Suguru’s face is curious as he peers down, using his utensil to dig into the container, not bothering to heat it up. If he can tell how overpowering the garlic is, he doesn’t show it. Suguru bites into the food, chewing for a moment while the room quiets down. 

“You put a unique spin on it.” He finally says. 

You sob even louder, dropping your head. Satoru is chuckling beside you, taking a sip from his cup. 

“I didn’t say it was bad! It’s just, a choice.” Suguru tilts his head as he takes a second bite. 

“Please stop.” You whine. 

The two boys were ruthless together. Sometimes you forgot, but it didn’t take them long to remind you. It was hard to tell which was worse, the upfront bullying of Satoru or the teasing Suguru took up, that often left you wondering if he was being mean at all. 

Suguru closes the container, and for reasons unknown slips it back into the fridge. Personally, you would have preferred if he threw the whole damn thing away, container included. Or lit it on fire. 

“I hate you.” You murmur to Satoru. 

He side hugs you, pulling you close to him; as close as he can without yanking you from your seat. 

“Did you guys have some good bonding time together?” Suguru asks, picking up all your dirty dishes before dropping them in the sink. 

“We did!” Satoru says proudly. 

You did, and that was nice. You just couldn’t announce it right now, you were too busy showing your displeasure. 

Suguru steps out of the kitchen and makes his way to you both. He presses a kiss to Satoru’s forehead, and grabs your jaw. He bites back a coo at the scowl resting on your face. So damn cute. He presses his lips against yours and you nearly melt. Suguru pulls back and lets his eyes float between you two. He really missed you guys. 

“You wanna go back to sleep?” He offers. 

You grin excitedly and hop off the stool, pulling Satoru with you. The two of you trip over your feet as you run to the bedroom, Suguru trailing behind with a smile on his face. 

Tag List: @tojislittleprincesss, @dinolvrrr, @kimi01985, @mikisspeak

Please let me know if you would like to be added to my taglist for whenever I post something