Little baby drabble to celebrate my sleep-deprived self eating cold chicken nuggets with Chic-fil-a Polynesian sauce eXACTLY like this at 3am
The muted sound of air hissing wakes you from your sleep. Well, it wasn’t only the air; you did have to go pee too. You blink a few times, rubbing your eyes to try and center yourself, wondering if it was just a hallucination. That’s when you hear it again…. And again… and again…
Best to go investigate. Was it a ghost? An appliance? Did you leave the faucet on?
Nope.
When you step outside your bedroom door, the sound got clearer, growing more and more loud until you had reached the kitchen.
There, you saw the faint light of the refrigerator and a figure hunched over it. You were about to jump on their case until you hear the sound again, followed by a hum of approval.
You step closer and closer, bleary eyes and barely conscious. When you reach the foot of the fridge, you realize that the silhouette was none other than your beloved boyfriend.
“Babe, iz 2 in the mornin’,” you slur, causing your beloved to tense. “Why’re you ‘wake?”
He turns around to reveal exactly what he was doing, and a mouthful of what you had just heard. He smiles (well, as much as one can smile with a mouthful of food), plucking a strawberry from its container and shaking the can of whipped cream. “Strbebby?” he asks, voice greatly contorted.
You close your eyes as a smile creeps onto your lips. “I’d love a ‘strbebby’,” you tease, grabbing the fruit from his fingertips.
He swallows and laughs a bit as you take a bite. “Open,” he demands and you obey. He sprays a small amount of whipped cream in your mouth, quickly doing the same for himself.
You both swallow the the food in your mouths, laughing with little exhales through the nose. He pulls you in for a gentle kiss. “Tastes sweet…” he murmurs.
— Satoru Gojo, Yuuji Itadori, Armin Arlert, Ranpo Edogawa, Atsushi Nakajima, Howl Pendragon, Kojiro Nanjo, Kaoru Sakurayashiki, Finral Roulacase (SHUT UPPP I LOVE HIM SO MUCH), Sanji, Usopp (HIM TOO 😍😍), Kaveh, Tighnari, Itto, Thoma—
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no but like could u do a oneshot or something about the reader cussing someone out in spanish (im guessing u speak spanish since ur mexican) n who ever u want getting horny...? idk i had friend tell we it was hot when i spoke on the phone with my sister in spanish n that made me feel... happy ;)
I am absolutely a no sabo kid but WE’RE WORKING ON IT and luckily for you I know enough to answer fairly confidently (though that’s mainly taking from shit my mother has said to me soooo.)
Gone are the days where you can poke fun at him, where you’d cackle like a hyena on the phone with a friend about how you can say anything you want and your boyfriend can’t understand you. Satoru’s a smart man. Even if he hadn’t asked to learn your tongue at all, he would’ve picked up on some things.
You’d be proud of him for learning, if he didn’t immediately abuse what little power he’s gained. Insulting your salsa—“no es tan picoso,” he claims, even as his eyes water—and oh, you’ll show him picoso alright.
What he does notice, however, is the interesting habit of yours to switch languages whenever you’re annoyed in the hopes that he’ll stop attempting communication. This is a barrier he’s at last breached, replying in English or in Japanese whenever you spit a petty insult at him. And to say you aren’t pleased about that is an understatement.
“No entiendes la palabra que no? I really would, pero I’m so busy right now, you don’t even know.”
He may not know every word in the question, but he knows enough to understand it.
“But we can eat later! I’m hungry for something else right now, you can understand that.”
“Satoru, keep this up and you’re making your own food tonight.”
“Come on, you know as much as I do you don’t want to be stuck cooking, not while I’m right here, just begging for you to-“
“No. Quiero comida.” A pause, before you mutter to yourself, “y te ves como un palo.”
He gasps, dramatically slapping a hand to his chest.
“Excuse me?! How? You are all over these muscles in bed, need I remind you, I’m the furthest thing from-“
“It’s the outfit. Doesn’t do you any favors, makes you look skinny.”
“Then take it off me.”
Your lips press into a line, eyes shut and brow furrowed in annoyance, as you turn to face him.
“Y sigues con los pendejadas.”
His hands are, unsurprisingly, already on your ass, his boner pressed hard up against your waist.
“C’mon,” he whispers, and you allow him only a kiss, before whipping your head around to face the source of the slightly burnt smell.
“Satoru! You- ugh, por el amor de dios-“
He’s got a split second notice before he sees you reach downward for a weapon he’s become far too well acquainted with in the time he’s been with you, and he bolts out of the kitchen with a desperation only ever seen on rabbits running from foxes.
“Hijo de puta motherfucker, I’ll gonna wring your little neck como un pollo! Usaré tus seis ojos como joyas!”
Your aim is true, your slipper firm, and your boyfriend likely concussed.
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