﹙ 五条 悟 : Gojo Satoru ﹚

satoru is the kind of husband who’s often absent. between missions, meetings, jujutsu high, and let’s not forget his clan, he spends his time running around instead of spending time with you — his wife.

it’s a routine. though sometimes, not seeing him can get really frustrating (not to mention the number of tears you’ve shed because of his absence). he’s well aware of it. poor guy feels guilty every second he’s away from you.

one evening, after spending the whole time of it crying over his absence, curled up like a caterpillar in the soft, cottony white duvet, you finally found sleep. a deep sleep, to be precise.

but apparently not deep enough, because in the middle of the night, the moonlight filtering through the windows wakes you up. you quickly realize something heavy is resting on your body. a warm, steady breath brushes against the skin of your neck, sending shivers across your whole body.

you squirm slightly under your husband, who’s lying on top of you as if you were his mattress. “satoru, get off me…”

“hmmm,” he hums, pouting and furrowing his brows. instead of freeing you, he shifts lazily on top of you, trapping you further in his arms. and you’re still wrapped in your duvet, too.

“satoru, i can’t move anymore.” but that doesn’t seem to matter. he clings to you like a koala to a tree. you sigh.

“i missed you.” he plants a soft kiss on your cheek, instantly melting your heart. “i love you.” he chuckles softly, eyes still closed, because he knows you don’t really hold it against him. “i’ll make it up to you tomorrow.” a promise he kept, to your delight.

Baby gojo reacts to: megumi!🖤🐺

“just for three hours, can you do it?”

“…yeah.”

megumi stares at the blinking miniature of his sensei quietly, as the baby looks back at him too in silence.

“well then!” gojo claps his hands before turning to you. “let’s go, sweets! we have a willing, trusty babysitter to take care of him!”

you shoot your husband a glare before turning to megumi. “sorry, megumi. we have to go to school and investigate the recent cursed spirits outbreak, and it doesn’t feel right to bring him there.”

“i don’t mind, nee-san,” megumi replies to you almost nonchalantly, throwing a glance at your baby in his hold. “i’ll keep an eye on him.”

that’s what megumi said, but even he doesn’t know what he’ll do with a baby in his apartment. at first, he puts the kid on his bed and he immediately sits up straight and turns to him.

“what?” he questions the baby as if he could answer him. “do you feel cold?”

the munchkin is dressed in a frog onesie with two round eyes on the hoodie, so maybe he doesn’t feel cold, megumi thinks. in the next half an hour, he and the baby are in staring match, as he doesn’t even squeak once.

“you must be bored here,” megumi sighs, starting to feel bad that he can’t entertain him. “maybe i should ask her to accompany me next time…” his thoughts flit to the chirpy girl in his class, whom he knows will have many ideas to humor a baby.

maybe it can also be an excuse to spend time with her too.

suddenly, baby scoots closer to his side and leans to him, closing his eyes— and megumi feels warm inside.

“ah,” a small smile lights his face at the sight of this cute creature depending on him so trustingly. he pulls him closer and pats his back, before wrapping his arms around him to keep him in place.

“okay, let’s sleep together then.”

katsuki is the type of guy to always want you nestled against him, which includes having you seated on his lap, a warm hand heavy on your thigh.

he’s constantly pulling you onto his lap, hands reaching out to drag your hips forward almost by reflex at this point. it doesn’t matter what you’re doing—if you’re anywhere near him and he’s seated, his hands will automatically settle around your waist to drag you towards him. once you’re seated, he drags a hand to the thick expanse of your thigh.

(it’s borderline possessive, the way his warm hand settles on the expanse of your skin, fingers unconsciously tapping out a beat)

and for a while, his warm hands are always silently reminding you where to sit, but the first time you automatically sit without being pulled, he nearly purrs in delight. he nestles his face into the junction between your shoulder and neck, pressing a searing kiss there before lifting your hair out of the way to press a long line of open-mouthed kisses along the column of your neck.

Bakugou Katsuki feels love with his eyes. 

It’s no longer summer, this much is obvious. The whole world gets dark around 7 now, and the trees are that shade of yellow that don’t look quite right. It’s colder than it is hot. The world is going to sleep, that tired feeling soaking into everyones bones. It’s coming to a soft close. 

He doesn’t remember the last time he’s gotten time alone with you, but you caught him just after his shift. He’s still in his costume, minus his gauntlets. His mask is pulled back over his forehead and his makeup is smudged around the corners and you’re wearing a jacket two sizes too big. It swallows you, and your hands are in your pockets. You haven’t really said a word to each other. 

“I missed you,” you tell him, quiet. A gust of wind passes as if to carry your words a little farther than you intend. His eyes go wide and he’s unsure of what to say or do. He stops a little, then walks again. His eyes go soft. A carmine glow that gets lost when he blinks. You think he looks lonely when he blinks. 

“..Missed you too, dipshit,” 

You laugh, but it comes out like a snort. The sound makes his chest ache, just a little. In the same way that autumn does. 

“Wow.. how romantic,” 

He blushes a little, and there’s a smile again. It’s uncontrollable, makes the muscles in his face stiff when he tries to suppress. He’s afraid of what’ll happen when you see how happy you always make him, so he turns away. 

“Shut up,” 

You reach for his hand, and he takes it - his fingers thread with yours and blushes even more red. The sky goes golden and it lands on him. He’s all warm. All October colors and hometown memories and heroism, your hero. He grabs your hand and tugs you a little closer but can’t meet your eyes. You wonder why he won’t look at you for a moment but get caught up in the way his thumb draws circles in the back of your palms. 

The air between the two of you gets caught in this sticky web and you can hear him clear his throat. It’s quiet for a moment too long, and you think he’s gonna say something. You really don’t know what. 

“…..I was hoping..you’d see me again.. or whatever,” he coughs a little afterwards and you pause. He turns to you, unsure and you see it when you see his face. That little look in his eyes. All pointy edges and sharp gazes gone sugar sweet. All soft blinks. All the love he feels for you, he must keep in his eyes. Everytime he blinks you can feel it as clear as the wind on your skin. How many time can he say i love you just by looking. 

You lean forward, wrapping your hand around his neck, and dragging him to you. You kiss him slow and he tastes like a work-day, like exhaustion. He tastes like home and he’s stiff at first but not for long. Not long until gloved hands wrap around your waist and drag you to him. 

“I was hoping to see you again, too,” 

CUPID’S CORNER : UMEMIYA HAJIME

[☆] you’re a pampered girl from a wealthy background, with everything handed to you on a silver platter—private school, designer clothes, the latest gadgets, and more. meanwhile, umemiya hajime is an ordinary boy raised in an orphanage, leading a life completely different from yours. here’s a glimpse into what it’s like being his girlfriend.

BEWARE: this content might contain [n]sfw, mention of blood, injuries, public place sex, cunnilingus, fluff, light/heavy angst, nineteen! umemiya hajime, fighting, fingering, unprotected/raw sex, suggestive conversation, gangsters, spoiled! fem-reader, etc. . ..

p.s template and diveder credit to the owner.

SPOILED SO ROTTEN

you hate— no, you fucking love it— how umemiya hajime always gives you attention, especially when he gives you that bento lunch box you love so much that you have to throw it at him, so in return for you to ruined his plant, he has to fuck you in furin rooftop.

OH, SADLY?

your boyfriend ignoring you for a whole day only for you to find out that he's fighting against choji from shishitoren and come to your room all beaten up— not really.

MY CUTE LITTLE FAIRY GARDENER

you’ve been nothing but a princess in your entire life, never doing anything for yourself, always having anyone to do things for you. with that information your boyfriend, umemiya asks you— forces you more likely— to garden with him.

NASTY FEVER

you’ve been mia since yesterday, making your boyfriend worried. when umemiya comes to your bedroom, he finds you unable to move from your nasty fever.

SOON !!!

TAGLISTS :

Bakugou, whose stamina is unbeatable. Who has just finished fucking you in any place necessary of the bedroom—the bed, the mini-couch, the floor—and still can’t keep his hands off you.

After laying on the bed for rejuvenating moments (at least for him), his large hand slides up your shoulder with a few coaxing kisses.

“Shower,” is all he says, his gruff voice strained and warm breath perceptible against your neck. You just nod weakly and attempt to ignore the mess between your legs.

In fact, he has to carry you to the bathroom. When you’re both in the shower, he still acts as support: your back is to his chest so he bears most of your weight, and his fingers span your lower stomach while you attempt to wash yourself.

You can barely keep your eyes open, so relaxed by the water, but he can see all of you just by where his chin rests on your shoulder. The water and soap sliding past the peaks of your breasts, the souvenirs that you not-so-sternly asked him not to leave on your skin.

Where you rest in front of him, he can’t help but feel aroused all over again, especially rubbing his hands over your supple skin that he couldn’t appreciate the first few rounds, clouded by the roughness you love.

Unable to just watch, he gently spins you around. Your eyes are half-closed, so you pay it no mind. You just continue your slow, leisure washing, completely unaware of the fact that he’s completely hard again, even if you wouldn’t be surprised.

Your eyes open back to reality when he gently takes the loofah from you and hangs it up on the little hook. His muscles casually ripple when he does literally anything, and if you weren’t so attracted to it, you’d be jealous.

“C’mere,” he orders, his voice in that soft tone reserved for you. His hands follow, crossing at your lower back and pulling you toward him even more. The atmosphere is hot and slow with the exhaustion settled into both of you.

You do something of a hum in question, but don’t resist when he leans down and slowly captures your lips in his. Your longing for each other is evident simply in the sigh that follows when you connect.

There’s water dripping everywhere, mostly on you, but the kiss is everything Bakugou usually isn’t: patient, slow, and needy. Actually, no. He was always pretty needy.

“Kat,” you whisper, and he groans in response, stretching his hands up your wet skin until he crosses your ribs, his thumbs move past the side of your breasts, and your arms are naturally guided to his neck.

You weren’t entirely sure what you were asking, to be honest, but you didn’t care. Not when you could feel the length of him pressed against your stomach.

Bakugou moves a few strands of drenched hair back behind your ear, and then strokes the rest at your nape to keep your head up to him. It was admirable, really, how he could be literally twitching in arousal, and still move like it doesn’t bother him at all.

Although, he is getting closer at hinting to it, because somewhere in the heat, your right leg is being lifted to his hip. When you find an escape from his kiss (he doesn’t allow you many), you glance down to what he’s doing.

He interprets your brows slightly furrowing and the low, tired droop of your eyes, already knowing what you’re going to say.

Voice still soft and practically gone even in distress, you begin, “I can’t go another round. There’s no way I’ll—”

“Shh,” he places a kiss on your forehead, then another at your temple. His head dips to lick and kiss in the crook of your neck, and your fingers either run through his wet, blonde hair or span the muscles of his back. He’s completely gone.

The left hand that upholds your leg starts to massage your thigh and inch up to your ass. “I talk to this pretty pussy almost every night, and you don’t think I know what you can handle?”

A whimper leaves your mouth and your hold tightens around him. Despite your lower body being completely stretched and at ease, he can still feel the tension elsewhere.

He continues, his voice dripping with reassurance, “Slide it in yourself. Then you tell me how it feels.”

And after a few moments and a sigh, you carefully reach down and wrap your fingers around him the best you can. You can feel him react to the movement alone, and with a prayer, you guide his head right to your entrance so you can sink when you’re ready.

When you descend, an immediate whine feels the air. He still fit perfectly from earlier and the sensitivity had tripled.

“Fuck,” you curse, wrapping yourself around him again. He holds you close.

“Feel good?”

You nod, and he throbs inside at the same time. He kisses you again, making sure to uphold you through your fatigue. Helping those in need was his job after all.

His right hand that covers your lower back loosens so that your weight inches backwards, then it pulls you right back in until you’re pressed against each other.

He groans with pleasure. The vibrations move to your lips that kiss him like he’s the last man on Earth.

And then he does it again, and again, until your head is simply resting on your own shoulder with your arms encircling his neck, water rushing down your hair and back. Your eyes are completely closed as he cradles you, erotic whines, whimpers, and moans falling from your lips into his ear.

Your slick walls drag up and down his skin. He moves so easily in and out that he can feel the outline of where his head usually reaches—the little space left. He was nowhere near as deep right now, but he is sure with the slight bend of his knees, he could have you screaming how you were for the hours before this.

And funnily enough, he doesn’t want you screaming at the moment. It’s something previous Bakugou would never say; not rock hard and needing to be balls deep in you quick Bakugou, at least.

You were worn out and tired, your body unable to take his usual pace. He’s almost 90% sure if he lifted you off the ground, you’d comply and hold on tighter, but he’s not going to push you that far. Not when he’s content like this, caressing your beautiful, dripping figure as you cry his name.

“Mmghn, that feels s-so good.” You speak, just above a whisper. And somehow, he can still hear you over the water and small splash of you both meeting in the middle. It’s like his brain is wired. No matter what, he’ll always be able to hear you.

He nods and kisses the side of your head again, keeping stable and consistently moving with minimal effort. The underside of your right knee is now resting in his elbow, so his hand can hold your waist and pull most of your weight that way instead of trying to push your whole body with just your thigh. At some point, you began helping him out.

“Keep moving your hips just like that, I got you.”

You groan at the instruction, and he chuckles heartily. Love poured from him and into you, making you feel more safe and secure than ever.

It didn’t take long until warmth gathered in your core with your clit dragging back and forth along his cock. He occasionally grunts and has to fix position to keep himself from spilling inside, not before you do first.

He can’t explain the relief he has when you insist that you’re gonna come soon in the form of a warning. It builds with each “thrust” and being so close to him as he carries you to climax.

“I’mna come,” you say again, more rushed this time, but muffled by his shoulder.

“I can feel it.” He responds, keeping pace. “Do you know what it feels like having you pulsing around me? Knowing you’re going straight into your sleep after?”

You shake your head.

“Hell, baby. Hell.”

And he wouldn’t have it any other way: the only option you have on sleepless nights being him. When you tap his shoulder or rub yourself against him, knowing he’ll never say no. Hope could he? He takes great pride in being your melatonin.

And, without fail, you fall into a perfect deep sleep, his cum still dripping into or out of you. It’s never there in the morning, and he loves that the only way it will happen is if he wears you out.

“Kattt…” You toss your head back, a low rumble in your throat that you only make when you’re on the verge of completely losing it. He attacks your neck again, letting your body naturally bounce off him and come back.

“Let yourself feel it. Let me take you there,” he encourages gruffly, nipping at your ear.

“Agh, fuck,” you nearly sob, digging yourself further into him somehow.

His eyes shut, a wave of clarity rushing over him. It’s you, his woman, his everything, needing him. He thought he knew what he wanted early in life. He knew he wanted to be desired by others in multiple ways, the best at everything. God, how wrong he was.

Now he wants to be the best at everything for you. Because you deserve nothing less. He doesn’t want to be desired by anyone else but you, because you carry all the validation he could possibly gain dopamine from. Nothing compares to you being completely and utterly dependent on him, clinging to him for dear life.

“You’re so goddamn beautiful,” he spouts, not bothering to stop or care about being sappy. He loves to hear you whine in response, only to finally come up with a few words. Clearly you got the cheesy feeling too.

“L-Love you, Kats.”

He bushels the hair at the bottom of your head with a grunt, tilting your nose up to him. He lets his lips kiss you passionately first, then he pulls away, but obviously not too far since you’re still nose to nose. Your eyebrows are upturned in that sensual expression he loves.

His deep, crimson eyes flicker to your puffy lips, a sign of the night, and land on your pretty damp eyelashes. He was breathless and stern.

“Don’t look away. Keep your eyes on me, or I’ll stop.”

You blink, registering his words with the shake of your head. “Don’t stop,” you plead.

He calls your name, and it’s enough to know he’s being dead serious. Both his grips tighten, mainly the one in your hair, and you don’t know if it’s water dripping down your cheeks or a tear or two.

You can feel your bottom leg beginning to shake, and the heat get to your head.

You shut your eyes instinctively, “K—”

“I’ve got you, don’t even think about it. Look at me.”

Your eyes shoot open in remembrance of his words as he leaves and reenters you again with increased speed, the sound when you slap together even louder. He holds your head in place. “I love you more, baby. More than you can ever dream.”

You watch his eyes and they say everything you can’t, everything he can’t, and that alone is enough to send you over the edge.

Your jaw drops and you literally begin shaking, not caring that all the strength you had left went into your orgasm. Your head pounds with the stream of the shower and fatigue, and your hands begin to slip at his neck, but you don’t even care. You know he’s got you. He said it himself.

“Shit,” he hisses, your orgasm expected, but the power of it not. He almost missed the fact that you were gushing around him by mistaking it as the water, the countless times you’d done this before catching up to you. He keeps thrusting his hips forward and whispering you praises. “Atta fuckin’ girl.”

You are sobbing now, real tears as he stills and twitches inside. He holds the promise he made to you since you did the same. He keeps his eyes focused on you, even as white spurts paint your insides, and puts his swollen lips on yours. Through your gasps, you couldn’t kiss him back, so he bites your bottom one instead.

It isn’t until you lose your footing and go limp against him that he bends to pick you up and lower your leg gently. You’re still jerking slightly, your muscles overworked, and the last of his release lands somewhere on your thighs as your back is arched away from him.

Before you can say anything or even think about it, he holds you upright and bends down to kiss you with all he has left, now that you’re somewhat here. When it’s over, you fall against him completely.

The rest is a blur, and the next time you know what’s happening, you’re tangled together in the unused guest bedroom.

©️ hxltic

reader who can’t stand satoru but then he gets hit by a curse that turns him into a cat. you find him, to his dismay, and take him home, only for him to realize how different you are when he isn’t around to pester you.

at first, he causes a lot of trouble. breaking things in your house, tearing up the pillows. he just wants to be a human again, but nobody can understand him! but you still take care of him and coddle him no matter how much trouble he causes, so different from how people treat him normally, as if he were a nuisance (which he kind of was on purpose). and he finds himself falling for you without realizing it.

so he stops being a bad cat, steadily losing hope that he’ll ever be human again. and satoru would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t enjoy how you stroked him while you read a book or let him sleep beside you at night. maybe it wasn’t so bad? so he decided then if he was going to be just a cat, he was fine with being your cat.

the higher-ups had taken note of his absence, obviously, and he only knows cause you’ve mentioned it to him. you had this endearingweird quirk where you’d talk to him as if he were a real person.

throughout his stay in your home as a house pet, satoru finds out a lot about you. you’ve always kept to yourself, but you vent your frustrations out to him while he’s like this, and he offers his comfort the best he can. which you appreciate, rewarding him with kisses that he secretly enjoys.

once he turns human again, by some miracle, his first thought is to go and find you. and when he does, you give him the cold shoulder like you used to, and it surprises him. before he realizes that, ah, he wasn’t your pet anymore. he was gojo satoru.

satoru realizes his feelings for you in that moment. when he feels the ache in his chest from your dismissive behavior, it leads him to starting his most important mission yet—winning your heart once more.

but this time, it’ll be as a person, not a damn cat.

stubbles 'n wrinkles – gojo blurb!

old!gojo 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

satoru's wife hates it when he shaves.

when he spends time in front of their dirty bathroom mirror with shaving cream all over his face, making absurd faces that accentuate the wrinkles on his cheeks just to get into the nooks and crannies of his sun-kissed skin.

when he washes his face off to reveal the little freckles and moles that have shown themselves throughout the gift of time. also revealing the wrinkles that have come through countless missions and curses fought.

when he puts walks out of the bathroom, turning off the light behind him, and joins his wife on the bed. his wife touches his cheek with a small frown after feeling the patches of stubble have disappeared.

"you shaved again?" she would ask, her voice phasing between a soft speak and a whisper.

"i did." and he kisses her palm with his glossed lips. no matter the time or the age, his lips were still a pretty pink that shined through even dim lighting.

"oh. i miss the stubble." she kisses his cheek, lips ghosting upon the newly shaven skin right where his cheekbone met his jawline. it wasn't exactly smooth; bumps and wrinkles revealed themselves, but it lacked the prickly bits that she loved to graze her hands on.

so, he doesn't shave for a while after. it doesn't take long until the thorn-like patches of stubble grow back, and his wife is happy about it. and when she smiles, her eyes wrinkle in a way that makes him feel butterflies in his tummy.

"y'like it, honey?" he smiles, adding a small wink like how they did when they were first dating. and yet these actions still made her giggle like it used to.

"i do. its nice."

she proves her point by grabbing his face, with both hands, and gives him a kiss. his stubble scratches against her palms and face. and she giggles like its a feather tickling her.

"you look so handsome with it." she whispers, looking at him so up-close like she's inspecting each little freckle on his face.

"maybe ill grow a full on beard. that reaches the floor."

"please don't."

10.15.24 - masterlist

“take your kid to work” day

gojo satoru and you who agreed on not letting his baby daughter be forced into the world of jujutsu and tried to shield her from it

but gojo satoru who had to take his daughter with him to teach the first years because he booked you a surprise spa day and apparently doesn’t trust anyone alone with his daughter

gojo satoru who shows his daughter around to everyone mainly nanami in the teacher’s room—nanami enjoys seeing your little ball of sunshine although considering her gojo’s spawn

gojo satoru who lets his students hold his precious daughter—they all adore her

gojo satoru who also has to take her on a mission along with the first years

gojo satoru who couldn’t help but show off to his precious girl blasting a curse away with blue

gojo satoru’s little baby girl who claps happily every time he uses his technique—she’s officially his important ego booster

gojo satoru’s precious baby girl who gets fussy if the mission took too long

gojo satoru who of course didn’t let his toddler’s fussy behavior slide, promises her on getting ice cream after the mission

gojo satoru and his daughter who had a father-daughter bonding moment none other family could ever have (he literally took her sightseeing while he fights curses on missions)

katsuki who traps you into a tight bear hug whenever he comes back from a long mission, shoves his head into your shoulder and takes a big, looong, hard whiff.

"wah—katsuki !! don't, i—don't smell good !" you whine, like that would stop him. you were unfortunately already used to his antics. you'd come to pick him up early at the airport and hadn't bothered putting on any perfume or anything.

and of course, it doesn't stop him. he growls, arms tightening around you threatening to melt into your ribs. he even nudges his nose even harder, moving into your pulse point and his hair tickling your ear.

"shush, stop squirming—don't move. i wanna smell you."

you groan at his lack of shame. "you're way too blunt about this."

"don't know why i'd have anything to be embarrassed about. wanna smell mine. missed you." he says, mumbling the last time just a little bit quieter. but since he's like, pressed to you you had no problem hearing his words and sigh. "y'smell good.." he adds.

you run your fingers through his hair, fondly rolling your eyes at his weak reassurance. "yeah, thanks.." and he has the nerve to grunt in agreement for succeeding in helping you.