tetsuski

[tetsuski]

triple trouble, atsumu miya

pairing atsumu miya x f!reader word count 1.6k synopsis atsumu steals every reporters' attention as he introduces the media to his triplets during a post-game interview; or, more accurately, his triplets steal all the attention. like father, like sons. content contains domestic fluff, dad!atsumu, atsumu & reader are married and so in love, babies, mention of pregnancy more in this collection!

The flashes of cameras going off, the constant exclamations of “Miya! Miya!” coming from the crowd of journalists and reporters all vying for his attention, the fact that the foldout chairs they use for all these post-game interviews are harder on your ass than falling on asphalt — all of this is being handled with ease by a smug Atsumu Miya.

Or, normally all of this would be handled with ease by a smug Atsumu Miya.

But right now, the Atsumu Miya struggling to take a seat in the most uncomfortable chair known to man, dyed hair a mess, his usual trademark smirk replaced by furrowed brows and a look of concentration, doesn’t appear to be the godlike adversary on the court. In fact, he looks oddly human. 

The cause of what has humbled this cocky athlete and reduced him to mere mortal man are the three chubby toddlers he’s cradling in his arms. 

All of them are identical, from their chubby cheeks to their little grubby hands. Heads full of thick, dark brown hair (reminiscent of their father’s natural color) poke out from Atsumu’s hold, and the eighteen-month-olds’ eyes are all full of childlike wonder as they watch the crowd, confused as to who all these people are. 

After finally getting settled into his seat, Atsumu addresses the crowd casually, as if he didn’t spend the last two minutes ensuring that his baby boys weren’t going to slip from his arms while he tried to prepare for this interview. Akimitsu is secured in his left arm, Akihiko in the right, leaving poor Akinari to cling onto Atsumu’s neck. 

While athletes have been getting more comfortable with bringing their kids up on stage with them, no one has ever seen a professional athlete haul his three babies with him. 

A fact that one reporter is more than happy to point out.

“Miya, wife put you on babysitting duty?” A male journalist calls out from the crowd. A few chuckles follow, but Atsumu just smiles at the mention of you.

“Nah. It’s not babysittin’ if they’re your damn kids, right? Besides, she deserves a break.” A few appreciative murmurs flutter through the crowd. 

After the initial surprise of seeing identical triplets being carried in the MSBY Black Jackals’ setter’s arms, the reporters are back to business as usual. They’re all professionals — even if hearing Atsumu give them a great quote to use as a hook (“I respect Nakamura as a human bein’ but calling him a setter for a professional league volleyball team is an insult to setters everywhere.”) is followed by him cooing sweet words of affirmation to whichever of his sons happens to be babbling in his ears. 

“Nakamura isn’t a very good player, is he, Akihiko?” No one outside of your family and his teammates have ever heard Atsumu sound so affectionate. His words are practically coated in sugar, and it’s hard to remember that he’s insulting another player in the league whenever he’s practically bumping noses with his toddler son when he says it. 

Akihiko, most likely due to his father’s influence, lets out a stream of enthusiastic gurgles that Atsumu automatically translates to him being in complete agreement with him. 

“Write that down.” He says to the crowd. “Even my baby knows he’s shit at the game.” 

There’s a few more minutes of Atsumu answering the usual post-game questions, but halfway through one of his responses, Akinari loses his grip on Atsumu’s neck and is about to tumble to the floor before Atsumu’s reflexes kick in. You’ve made a joke once that you think Atsumu’s reflexes have become heightened after becoming a father; his athletic instincts have merged with the famous “dad reflexes” all fathers seem to be gifted with. (Atsumu tells reporters that this is why he keeps on becoming a better player; people think his family would hold him back, but once again, family is his greatest blessing.)

“Ya gotta hang onto me, buddy.” Atsumu can’t even pretend to be stern when he tells this to Akinari, who only smiles at him and exclaims something unintelligible. He shifts Akinari to his left arm, relaxes back in his seat, and is even excited to answer a question concerning his play style compared to Tobio Kageyama’s, but as he readjusts the two boys in his arms, Atsumu can’t help but startle at the fact that he has three kids. Not just two. 

Momentarily panicked, he almost wants to ask why the hell no one told him one of his kids jumped ship but then he feels a tug on the bottom hem of his volleyball shorts. 

Peering under the table, Atsumu is greeted with the sight of Akimitsu’s mischievous little face. He’s the oldest of the three and takes after Atsumu the most — meaning, he’s the cutest little nightmare there could ever be. 

“Whatcha doin’ under the table, Mitsu?” Atsumu asks, and Akimitsu gives out a happy, gleeful shriek. He’s clapping his grubby hands together and cheering. 

“Dada found me!” 

“I did find ya, buddy.” Atsumu coos. “Now why don’t you come sit on daddy’s lap?” 

After wrangling up all his kids once more, Atsumu sighs and looks up at the timer in front of him. 

“I have enough time for one more question.” He tells the crowd.

“Are you excited to get out of here and get back home to the wife?” 

“I’m always happy to come home to [Name]. If there’s a professional league for motherhood, she’s going into the hall of fame. I don’t know how she handles these fools by herself all day.” 

Akihiko takes a tiny, chubby hand and smacks Atsumu in the face. Repeatedly. 

“Home! Home!” His slaps get slightly more aggressive, but Atsumu’s received some serves with his face before, so it doesn’t really phase him. “Home! Mama!” 

“Well, you heard the man.” Atsumu actually gives a genuine smile for the cameras. “We gotta head home.”

You’re applying your moisturizer in the bathroom despite the mirror being fogged up from the hot shower. It’s probably why you don’t anticipate strong arms wrapping themselves around your body, and you gasp before your muscle memory recognizes him. Your body easily relaxes against his, and you’re smiling as you ask your husband, 

“Had a good day today?”

“We took ‘em in two straight sets. Slaughtered the other team to the point where it wasn’t even fair.” He angles his head just right so he can kiss you on the cheek, but you gently slap him away.

“I’m putting on moisturizer right now.”

“Great. My lips are dry.” He goes in for another kiss, and even though you’re giggling, trying to pull away from him, he still plants a peck on your soft skin. “Should I go for seconds, just for good measure?” He teases.

“Hmm, I guess so.” 

“Oh? What’s with the change? Realize how much you can’t live without my touch?” He pulls you in closer to him, your back pressed firmly against his chest. He’s fresh out the shower, stray droplets of water greedily clinging onto his skin. 

“Maybe.” You tilt your head back on the front of his shoulder so that you can see him. “You know your interview is trending on Twitter, right?” 

“Oh, yeah? Bet Nakamura’s pissed.” Atsumu sounds too happy at the concept. 

“No. There’s actually an interesting clip that keeps going around. Someone already used it as an intro for a thirst edit of you.” 

You like it when Atsumu is thinking. There’s an adorable crease in between his furrowed brows, and you can practically see him going through the memory files in his brain, trying to figure out what could possibly be worthy of inspiring an edit of him. 

“You seriously don’t know?” You’re laughing at him, and it’s the sweetest sound in the world. Atsumu doesn’t take kindly to being the butt of a joke, but from the moment he saw you, he knew he’d do anything to stay by your side, even becoming a fucking court jester if that’s what it took. 

You reach for your phone on the counter, taking a few seconds to load up the fan edit you have favorited. 

He’s burying his face in your hair, hiding away as he hears the audio of him going now why don’t you come sit on daddy’s lap playing on a loop. He groans when you let it replay, uncharacteristically shy as you keep telling him to watch it. 

“The comments are the best part, though, baby!” You haven’t been able to stop giggling at jackingthejackalsoff’s very bold and very true statement of yeah, if i were [name], i’d pop out triplets for him too tf 😭🙏.  

As Atsumu’s hands travel to rest against the growing swell of your belly, you tease him. “So, when the twins are born, do you think you’ll have enough space in your arms to haul all five of our kids, or should we finally use that baby chest carrier Shoyo gifted us?” 

“I can carry all of ‘em and you onto that stage.” He regrets making this smug remark whenever you slightly drop your teasing tone and use what he dubs The Mom Voice on him.

“Oh? If that’s true, then why did it take you so long to realize Akimitsu crawled out of your arms while you were busy calling your opponents scrubs?” 

“Have I ever told you what a wonderful mother you are? And this moisturizer! Wow, I don’t know what you’ve been doing with your skin, baby, but keep it up.” He’s peppering your face with more kisses, hurriedly trying to change the subject, and you gladly let him.

#SO CUTTTTTTEEEEEE

[tetsuski]

Pay it no mind

Part XVIII

In which reader confesses their feelings to Gojo, but it seems these are not returned (maybe?).

Warnings: reader is on the receiving end of rejection (kinda), and the fact that I'm obsessed with unrequited love is a warning itself, and... idk, I didn't mean to put anything warning worthy here, but if you think of something I guess let me know. <3

Previous: Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII, Part VIII, Part IX, Part X, Part XI, Part XII, Part XIII, Part IV, Part XV, Part XVI, Part XVII

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

The days that followed after Satoru told you he liked you, it seemed that everything had gone back to normal and you two were slowly falling back into your usual routine: meeting up early in the mornings, bantering in between classes and missions, and eating lunch with Shoko when all of you were at the school. It was comforting to have things return to how they used to be, or that was what you thought.

“What’s up with him?” Shoko asked across from you.

Satoru had business to attend so he had just left you and Shoko at the table in the cafeteria.

“What do you mean?” you looked in the direction he had gone but could no longer see him.

From your perspective, Satoru had not changed much since that day he walked through the school holding your hand; he had not pressed the subject of whether you liked him back still any further either, and since he appeared to be okay in this grey zone where you two were sitting, you had not brought it up either. However, Shoko, as perceptive as ever, had noticed how Gojo, who always seemed to like your personal space, was moving into it almost permanently these days; how he was not even bothering to be discreet with the way he looked at you or remained by your side when you were in the same room, and how, if he was not careful, it would be evident to everyone pretty soon.

At first, Shoko had believed it was all in her head; since that day, years ago, when she first considered that Gojo could have some kind of crush on you, the notion had prevailed. In fact, she had thought she was looking into her friends’ relationship too much, maybe because none of them seem to pay any mind to how they were perceived, so it was not entirely impossible her eyes were just making her believe what she had accepted as true for so long was finally materializing.

Gojo’s laid-back attitude had been one of the reasons why Shoko doubted he cared seriously about whatever feelings he could have for you. Other than that rocky season in high school and a few other occurrences through the years that followed, Satoru had never taken any steps towards an actual relationship with you. Hence, Shoko thought it's a harmless crush.

But as of lately, he looked more... intent. Or maybe...

He’s losing his grip.

“You’ve never found him annoying, have you?” Your friend looked at her almost empty plate and it somehow reminded you of a similar talk you had had months ago.

“A bunch of times, but I guess I don’t find him too annoying,” you answered.

“Isn’t that all love is about?” Ieiri’s eyes connected with yours.

Her comment caught you off guard, and she might have noticed the way your smile froze because her gaze did not leave yours.

You did the only thing that could think of: laugh it off. “Yeah, I guess, if love is annoying, that is.”

Are you finally annoyed by it, Gojo?

“You tell me.” Shoko smiled and put the last bite of her food in her mouth.

***

“Why won’t she just admit she likes him?” Satoru asked while looking at the movie playing in front of him.

Maybe it was a rhetorical question, but you did not look at him before replying “Because there would have been no movie if they were that direct.”

It was a Friday night and Satoru had made an impromptu proposal to you to have a movie marathon at his place. You had accepted but now, into your first movie of the night, you were having trouble to stay focused on the story, which was supposed to be some sort of romantic comedy, not half as bad as many, but the romantic scenes were making you self-conscious.

You watched the scene where the protagonists had gone from arguing to making out and you felt the need to look somewhere else.

From the corner of your eye, Satoru seemed unimpressed.

He’s unfazed, of course he is.

Actually, Satoru was only calm on the surface. Unbeknownst to you, he had also perceived the change in the air between the two of you when the more intimate scenes started playing. He thought he should have chosen a different film, but suggesting changing it now would only make the unsaid more obvious, so he was sticking it up with the most unexpressive face he could manage as the actors on the screen seemed to melt into each other.

Satoru had not meant anything suggestive by choosing that movie; he had just played the first thing he found as he always did when you had not planned in advance, and under normal circumstances, that would have been fine. You had watched all kinds of films together, including romantic ones, the good and the bad ones, but now…

Satoru was already looking at you when you were about to steal another glance in his direction.

His gaze revealed a question he dared not ask, or rather, a question he had promised himself he would not ask until you were ready.

He was trying to be a good friend, even if he wanted to be more than that. It had took him a while to figure out his feelings, so he had resolved to give you as much time as you needed. Yes, Satoru was convinced he could wait patiently, but…

Is he leaning forward?

At times… His resolve weakened.

“[name]…”

The look he was giving you was that of a kid who wanted to ask for something but did not know how. In his clear eyes, there was need but also fear of being denied.

What is your answer? his eyes were asking.

The winter had also frozen time in your friendship, in this safe spot in Satoru’s place, where you could still be friends and pretend nothing needed to change as it never changed in the years before, not in his apartment nor in your friendship. But time must go on, does it not?

“Satoru...”

His phone rang.

Both of you looked at the phone that was screen-down on the coffee table in front of you, and it seemed to take Satoru a couple of seconds to decide if he wanted to pick it up, but he finally did.

“I’ll be right back.” You got up and went to the kitchen.

Giving him some privacy to take the call was an excuse; part of you just wanted to escape of it all, ask Satoru to take it back, let everything remain as it was, stay in the known, but the other part, the part that had been falling for him all this time wanted to see it through.

Are you in love with him?

For a second, you were back in your living room with Haruki, his question and your answer resonating in your head as you watched the cup of tea travel steady from the table to his lips.

“Some people think knowledge that doesn’t change behavior is worthless,” his eyes did not meet yours, and you did not reply immediately.

“If you knew he liked you, would you act on it?” He had almost finished his cup.

"I don't know," you replied.

Months ago, you had been convinced you wanted to act on your feelings, but now, the idea of change was scary, the idea of trying to later find out it was not what you wanted, was scarier; the idea that you and Satoru would never recover if that happened, was terrifying.

“To change something, you first need to accept the possibility of change, and of course you need to know that those possibilities exist. I guess in that way, that knowledge is not worthless, even if nothing actually comes out of it. We should accept the possibilities.”

His feelings were sudden but if there is a possibility...

“Okay, I can accept that,” you said lowly to yourself.

“You can accept what?” Satoru was looking at you and taking the sodas you had just mindlessly pulled from the fridge from your hands.

The room felt a few degrees warmer with his proximity.

“Nothing, I was just...” Your gaze drifted to the door leading to a small terrace where Satoru had installed a couple chairs to sit on when the weather was nice. He almost never did it though, and you could use some fresh air. “Do you want to go outside?”

A smile played on Satoru’s lips. “Isn’t it cold?”

“Just for a bit.”

That was how you and him needed up outside looking at the city lights. You looked up but it was impossible to see the stars. Satoru mirrored your gesture and then directed his gaze back to the city.

“Do you ever regret it?” he asked.

“Regret what?”

He shrugged. “Staying here, doing what we do, not going somewhere quieter or… somewhere where you could see the stars.” He looked up again and you kept your gaze on him.

Why was he asking that now you did not know, but you answered him honestly.

“I do not regret it.” It was true. Even when you did have the opportunity to do something else or be somewhere else, you chose not to leave. “This is pretty too.”

The lights of a city that never seem to sleep were probably not as fascinating and mystical as the stars that burned millions of light years away, but they had some beauty of their own.

“I guess so,” Satoru agreed, and he wrapped an arm around you, and after some silence he spoke again.

“Aren't you cold?”

You nodded your head. “But can we stay here a little longer?”

And maybe what you really wanted to ask was can we stay like this a little longer?

In any case, Satoru would have given you the same response as he held you tighter.

“Of course.”

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

Note: I'll try to proofread... Oh, and sorry about basically disappearing. Thank you a bunch for the kind messages during my silence. <3

Thank you for reading!

@mavs-stuff @witchbybirth @crookedlyaddictedone-blog @tqd4455 @maybe-a-bi-witch @mo0nforme @maliakealoha @zacatecanaaaa @blushhpeachh @astriarose @missesgojosatoru @ba-ks @sukunasleftkneecap @songbirdlully @cole-silas @heijihattorisgf @chokesonspit @hersheyzzz @smolbeanzzz @luciledreamz @avidreadee123 @moonmalice @ratscandaler @sadmonke @allie-jay @username23345 @spin-garden @ashehateaccount @kayzens @blehtotheblehtothebleh @stellasloth @bloopsstuff @cheesemachine44 @tetsuski

[tetsuski]

athletic trainer Iwaizumi hajime x a catering company owner reader that partnered up together

#iwaizumi x reader

[tetsuski]

[tetsuski]

unseasoned chicken

[tetsuski]

[tetsuski]

rookie f1 racer satoru gojo decides the best way to kick off race weekend is going to a coffee shop

a/n: hi friends ! here is the first one shot for my f1 racer!gojo au :3 i am so beyond excited to start these, they won’t be a cohesive series & can be read alone! i will make an au masterlist though :] please enjoy and let me know what yall think !! if there’s any ideas or requests yall have for this series send them in !! ok that is all bye bye ! <3 also both gojo and reader are early 20s since i have him in his rookie season

word count - 3,444

masterlist

LIGHTS OUT & AWAY WE GO !

there’s not many people out during usual work hours, kids are in school, adults are at work, and the world is a little quieter. it’s something satoru had grown to love. between all the cameras reporters, he just wanted some peace, and no one knew peace quite like coffee shops.

satoru sauntered into the building, it was unassuming enough, a few people scattered throughout the establishment, all too engrossed in their own work to look up. he doubted he’d get recognized by anyone in here.

he orders and gets his drink and pastry fairly quickly, sitting by the window and watching the world pass by him. life seemed to move in slow motion, the leisurely paces of someone walking their dog making him relax a bit.

“hey! is it cool if i use this outlet?” the voice makes him jump a bit, turning around to face whoever it was speaking.

you smile softly at him, hoping he would be kind enough to just let you charge your laptop. you figured he’d be attractive, his hair’s an eye catching bright white color, contrasting to the black shirt and sunglasses he had on. you caught a glimpse of his blue eyes as he looks at you, nodding before clearing his throat.

“yeah go ahead,” he returns the smile, motioning for you to plug in your charger.

“I’ll just leave it here to charge, i don’t wanna bother” you state, quickly plugging in your laptop before moving to walk away.

“you can sit if you wanna, it’s no problem” he rushes out quickly, hoping it was enough to make you stay. his breath caught in his throat as you turned to look at him.

“are you sure?” he nods quickly, “yeah no worries! I’m not doing much of anything right now,” he grins, regaining his composure and taking a sip of his drink.

it’s quiet between the two of you before you speak up, “you like Mercedes?” satoru feels his blood go cold, looking at you with a confused expression. you gesture to his shirt, “you’ve got their merch on” you laugh.

“oh! yeah they’re pretty cool,” he nods, watching as you smile and nod, focusing on your screen again.

“i didn’t know they had merch like that,” you admit, “maybe it’s just ‘cause im not super into cars.” satoru feels relief wash over him, his shoulders subtly relaxing before he’s looking at you again.

“it’s their f1 team merch” he says, “i work for them, actually.” his hearts beating a bit faster as you make eye contact with him, looking up from your laptop.

“oh? that’s so cool! you’re a mechanic or-?” your head cocks a bit to the side, smiling when the man across from you breaks into a wide grin.

satoru debates going along with your idea, but he can’t bring himself to lie to you, not when you’re eyes are shining at him.

“i actually race for them, im a driver” he corrects you gently, your eyes widen a bit and you cover your mouth as it opens.

“oh my god I’m so sorry! i don’t know a thing about formula one” you laugh nervously, “i knew there was something going on with all the extra fuss in the city but i had no idea what.”

he smiles at you and waves off your apology, “don’t worry! it was nice having someone to talk to that’s not yelling at me to sign something” he cringes a bit at the way the words rolled off his tongue, but you still smile at him, going back to working on whatever was it was you were doing on your laptop.

“one of my friends is actually getting into f1 i think, is there someone named,” you trail off as you think of the other mans name, “i think it’s Charlie? charles? one of those two” you laugh nervously, satoru’s ears perk up at the name.

“charles leclerc?” He asks, your eyes light up, “yeah that one! he’s a racer right?” satoru nods at you.

“yeah he races for ferrari,” you nod along to his words, realizing you hadn’t caught his name yet.

“what was your name, just so i know who to root for when people ask my favorite driver” you grin, a twinkle in your eye that makes his stomach flip.

“I’m satoru, satoru gojo” he reaches his hand across the table for you to shake, you can’t stop the soft chuckle that leaves your lips as your hands connect, a firm shake against his much larger, warmer and calloused hands.

a comfortable silence falls between the two of you as satoru finishes his drink off and you continue to focus on your laptop. satoru can’t help but continue to look your way, thinking you were absolutely breathtaking.

you on the other hand, had your heart beating against your rib cage as you pulled up your messaging app on your laptop and quickly texted your best friend.

I HAD TO PLUG IN MY CHARGER BUT THE ONLY OUTLET WAS NEXT TO THIS SUPER HOT GUY AND I ENDED UP SITTING IN THE BOOTH W HIM AND WERE TALKING AND HES AN F1 DRIVER ???? DID I MENTION HES HOT AS FUCK??

you wait a couple minutes, your friend has yet to reply as your leg bounced under the table.

“what are you working on? if i may ask” the question makes you immediately close your messages and go back to your google document, looking blankly at the paper in front of you.

“it’s some busy work for a class im in, required by the university” you shrug, “was getting through it pretty quickly until my laptop died on me” the snowy haired man smiled at you, laughing softly as he pulls his phone out.

satoru scrolls aimlessly on his socials, nothing seemed as interesting as you did, sitting practically across from him engrossed in your work. the two of you made easy conversation for the next hour or so, not realizing how much time had passed since youd sat down.

you’d tried to get up and leave after you turned in your assignment and laptop was charged, giving him privacy you imagined he yearned for. but satoru was quick to tell you to stay, “you don’t have to go! it’s nice talking to you” he says, “like a breath of fresh air.”

and so you sit back down, the two of you falling into place as if you were old friends, people who’d known each other in years past and were catching up. you didn’t ask about his job or his career, asking about him and what his favorite color was, his favorite season and if he actually liked his coffee as sweet as it has smelled.

you kept reminding yourself this was gonna be a one off thing, he’d leave and you’d part ways, never talking again as you inevitably turned on an f1 race, seeing the pretty man on your tv screen and imagining what could’ve been if you were a bit braver.

it had been nearly three hours since you’d sat at his booth when his phone starts buzzing, quickly answering the call from his manager. his small smile turns to a faint pout as they tell him to head to the paddock for free practice in a couple hours, sighing and telling them he’d be on his way shortly.

you feel disappointed as you hear the words, not wanting the bubble you were in to burst, wanting to stay seated across from the attractive man for as long as you could.

“I’m gonna head out, have to go work” he jokes, his smile widens when you laugh, “i hope you pass your exam thursday,” he’s doing everything in his power to linger around, trying to figure out a way to spend more time with you.

you laugh softly and nod your head, “it’s open note so hopefully it’s not too bad, but good luck at your race! I’m sure you’ll do great.”

satoru’s bright blue eyes light up at your words, you could almost see the lightbulb forming atop his head, making you furrow your brows slightly in confusion.

“why don’t you come? to the race this weekend? are you busy?” the words tumble out his mouth in an unorganized jumble of excitement, he’s beaming at you with his bangs in his eyes, sunglasses barely balancing on the tip of his nose.

“oh i couldn’t, those tickets must be so expensive and i don’t wanna bother-” satoru is cutting you off with furrowed brows and a bewildered expression his face.

“you think I’d make you pay? don’t be silly,” he grins, “I’ll get you some good seats and maybe we can meet up after the race?” he can hear his heart beating in his ears. was he being insane? a little bit. did he care? not at all.

you bite your lip for a second, it’s not like you had an insane amount of work, plus the most attractive man you’d ever laid eyes on was asking you out to some crazy sporting event you’d only heard of in passing.

“okay yeah, i think i could squeeze it in my schedule” you grin, watching as the man across from you smile at you. he’s quick to ask for your information, immediately sending it off to whoever it was needed it and was informing you of all you needed to know.

“I told them to give you an extra ticket so you can bring a friend so you’re not too lonely waiting for me” the words make your face and ears heat up, trying to remain composed in front of him.

“well i guess I’ll see you sunday then?” the words make your stomach flip, wondering how he’d look like with his gear on.

“see you sunday” he smiles at you, waving goodbye as his phone buzzes for a second time, hurrying out of the coffee shop with his whole body buzzing from excitement.

you don’t fully process the entire interaction until you’re sitting in your apartment, phone lighting up from a new email.

Mercedes F1 team PR

Good afternoon! We are elated to send you two tickets to invite you to this weekends Grand Prix race! Below you will find all the information…

you open it quickly, reading the entire thing twice before you’re rolling onto your back and giggling uncontrollably, giddy beyond belief to see satoru again. your fingers itch to look him up, deciding against it and locking your phone as you try to continue on with your day.

sunday arrives quicker than you thought it would, your friend following you into the circuit as you try to figure out where to go next, looking around helplessly as you look down at your phone and at the map provided.

“are we supposed to go down there?” your friend points, both of you staring at each other blankly. the two of you wait for a second before looking around once more, taking a leap of faith and walking with confidence where you think you had to be.

your friend is much braver than you are, flagging down someone in a staff shirt and showing them the ticket, they’re quick to lead the two of you in the opposite direction, making you and your friend hold back laughter until you’re finally seated.

satoru was anxiously looking around, he wasn’t exactly sure where they had seated you, but he’d requested you be close to the garage, wanting to say hello before the race.

“you’re a lot more antsy than usual” the deep voice makes him look away from his phone. nanami kento, right hand man to Toto Wolff and next in line to take over the team principal position.

“I’ve got an important guest I’ve gotta impress” satoru replies quickly, putting his phone away and walking towards kento, “I’m gonna rack in some points today” he winks, making the blonde roll his eyes.

soon enough satoru is seated in the car and on the grid, mind completely focused on the race ahead, taking deep breaths as the red lights appear.

you couldn’t help but watch some race clips last night, figuring you should know some basics and not show up completely clueless. the videos, however, didn’t prepare you for how fast the cars truly were, engines sending vibrations to your chest and stands shaking as they raced by.

“and gojo overtakes hamilton! the rookie had a terrible qualifying yesterday, but seems as though he’s back in the game today” the announcers words blare through the speakers, chest blooming with pride as they talked up satoru.

you’re focused on the primarily black car, watching as he zooms past the stands at unbelievable speeds. your heart racing as he passes other drivers, cheering when he successfully overtook them.

satoru continues to climb up the ranks, cinching a position on podium; second place, sandwiched between verstappen and leclerc. he’s hopping out of the car and celebrating with his team, squeezing kento a bit tighter than the rest. his blue eyes are focused on the crowd as he waits his turn for the post race interview, trying to catch sight of you, mind racing as he wonders if you even came.

he smiles at charles as he passes him, walking up to the interviewer and answering the questions with generic answers ‘I’m beyond excited for the rest of the season’ and ‘I’m looking forward to the day i win my first Grand Prix’ along with thanking his support system and team before kindly thanking the interviewer and heading to the winners room before the podium ceremony.

satoru’s messy hair is covered by the Mercedes hat, taking it off and ruffling it a bit, sighing when he scans the crowd one last time and doesn’t make you out, turning around and closing the door behind him.

you only make it to the floor area moments after charles walks out, slightly out of breath as they call out satoru’s name.

the snowy haired racer is waving to the crowd, a semblance of a smile on his face as he stands on the podium, eyes still searching the crowd in one last feeble attempt to spot you.

satoru feels his heart skip a beat and face turn even redder as he locks eyes with you, a much more genuine smile on his face when he gives you a little wave.

you’re heart races as you make eye contact with the driver, adoring the way his cheeks flushed and skin looked honey like under the rays of the sunset. you smile and clap as he raises the trophy, pointing directly at the trophy then at you.

this one’s for you

maybe you’re a hopeless romantic, or maybe he’s just too hot and charming to not fall for, but you feel your heart giving in and walls crumbling as he shakes the large champagne bottle, dousing the other two until all three of them were dripping with champagne.

satoru finds you in the garage after 20 minutes, thanking his manager a hundred times over before walking up to you. his race suit only on from the waist down, black fireproof sticking to his body perfectly and snowy white hair tousled and wet from a mixture of champagne and sweat.

“you came” he says, making you nod and smile at him sweetly.

“why wouldn’t i? my favorite driver invited me” you reply.

satoru rolls his eyes and snickers, “im the only driver you know,” he watched you grin up at him sheepishly, “still you’re my favorite!”

“you did really good out there by the way” the words make him smile wider, biting his lip softly.

“yeah?” he asks, you nod your head, far too nervous to trust your voice as he looks at you, head too scrambled to figure out the emotion painted on his face as he looks at you. “good enough that you’d consider going on a date with me?”

it seems like it’s just the two of you in the busy garage as you smile up at him, tilting your head as you nod, “yeah I’d consider it.”

you think he looks almost angelic under the fluorescent lights in the garage, his white hair looks like a halo as you look up at him, pretty blue eyes a stark contrast against his fair skin and black uniform.

satoru thinks you look unbelievable, hair falling perfectly and voice sweet as honey as you talk to him, a saccharine smile on your lips just for him, the thought makes his knees buckle and brain stutter. he doesn’t care how whipped he looks as he takes you in, relishing in the moment before he speaks up.

“I’ll be off the clock next time,” he jokes, loving the way your giggles sounded. it feels like a relief off his shoulders, grinning widely as the two of you continued to talk.

“I’ve gotta get out of this uniform, but I’ll text you?” he looks down, biting his bottom lip as he fights a smile before looking back up at you, hoping you’d get the hint and give him your number.

you smile at him and tilt your head, “is that your way of asking for my number?” satoru blushes, smiling at you shyly and nodding his head, you can’t help but giggle as you grab a piece of paper and pen from the table besides you, scribbling your number and a smiley face. “here, don’t lose it.”

satoru grins, “i don’t lose.”

the sky is dark by the time you exit the garage, biting your lip and fighting back a smile as you meet up with your friend, finally heading home for the night. gushing about the interaction, reliving every moment and squealing at the memories.

when was the last time you’d felt this way? when was the last time you’d let your guard down so quickly for someone?

it was strange. the way your heart leapt when you saw him, the way your face flushed when he spoke to you and the way you felt so comfortable with him.

“maybe he’s your soulmate” you friend wiggled their brows at you, teasing you as you roll your eyes.

“or he’s putting up a front and he’s like every other guy” you shoot back, biting your lip. he felt, different. genuine.

“you don’t have to be so pessimistic! you never know he could be the man you spend your life with” they shrug their shoulders, smiling when you fall silent and hum.

you’re showered and in bed when your phone vibrates, a new text message from an unknown number.

satoru had spent an hour drafting the text, deleting it and typing it out again, removing and adding emojis until he forgot what he was even trying to say, starting over and groaning. when was the last time he was this nervous to text someone?

he can’t recall ever wanting to spend more time with someone the way he does with you. the though of love at first sight crosses his mind, making his face burn and dimples pop as he smiles.

hi it’s satoru ! thanks for coming to the race tonight , i hope i can see you again :)

his heart pounds against his chest as the three little dots appear on his screen, holding his breath when they disappear and reappear time and time again.

you continued to delete your text, trying to figure out how to word your text before finally biting the bullet and pressing send, heart racing as it says delivered, then read within the minute.

thanks for inviting me ! it was a lot of fun,, I’d love to see you again also :3

satoru squealed at the text, biting his lip before replying back, giggling at your every text and replying as fast as he could. the two of you texting back and forth until your eyes were too heavy to keep open, wishing him a goodnight. satoru was already pinching himself to stay awake, somewhat thankful you were also tired as he wished you goodnight, setting his phone down and falling asleep moment later, the faintest of smiles painted on his lips.

you grinned as you locked your phone, setting it down and biting your lip before squealing into your pillow. he wanted to see you again. you didn’t fight off the smile on your lips as your eyes fluttered shut, slowly falling asleep, then all at once, dreams filled with blue eyes and white hair and expensive, fast cars.

there’s no better place to find a lover than at a coffee shop on race weekend.

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[tetsuski]

happy birthday to the bestest boy (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

[tetsuski]

Wedding Impossible 웨딩 임파서블 (2024) Dir. Kwon Young Il – Ep. 8

[tetsuski]

Pay it no mind

Part XVII

In which reader confesses their feelings to Gojo, but it seems these are not returned (maybe?).

Warnings: reader is on the receiving end of rejection (kinda), and the fact that I'm obsessed with unrequited love is a warning itself.

Previous: Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII, Part VIII, Part IX, Part X, Part XI, Part XII, Part XIII, Part IV, Part XV, Part XVI

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

“If I asked for advice, would you give me some?”

“Only because I have a feeling you wouldn’t leave me alone until I did,” was what Shoko replied to the man in front of her. “As long as it's not love advice, I guess.”

Satoru’s smile seemed to falter, and when he forced a laugh out, Ieiri’s eyebrow quirked. “It’s just advice to… “

How could he frame it without giving himself away? It was not that Satoru wanted to keep his feelings a secret, and he knew Shoko would probably roll her eyes but would not judge him. Still, he did not want to put her in an awkward situation with you if ultimately, nothing came out of this.

“Advice to understand someone,” Satoru said, thinking that should suffice. What he needed at the end was to understand how you were feeling now, was it not?

Shoko blinked slowly and gave Gojo a long, thoughtful look.

“Advice to understand someone,” she repeated. “What would you need that for?”

What is he up to now?

Gojo had never given her the impression of being particularly good at understanding people, that much was true. Of course, he could find his way around them, rather smartly if she dared add, and she knew he could charm people in to take advantage of their strengths, but that did not mean he always understood their feelings, not that he had ever shown much interest in doing it in the first place.

He had always stricken her as the kind of person that cared about people but could not always care for them.

Satoru leaned back in his chair. “If someone told you you are selfish, wouldn’t you like to know why?”

I would, she thought, but it is not like you to mind what people say.

“If it were someone whose opinion matters…” he added, crossing his arms.

He’s not saying any names, but there aren’t many people that could make him care.

“And you don’t want them to think of you like that,” she completed.

He smiled in her direction, but Shoko had the feeling he was avoiding her gaze.

So that’s it.

“So, someone called you selfish, and you want to understand why they did it?” Shoko asked him, sounding as disinterested as ever, but he knew her; the wheels in her head were turning. “I guess it depends on the circumstances.” She leaned back in his chair imitating Satoru’s posture. “If they had a reason for it, something you said or did...”

Gojo seemed to ponder her words for a moment. Was that not the quid of the question?

Satoru himself knew he had done countless things that could be considered selfish. From taking your share of dessert when you were kids to sometimes taking your bed whenever he stayed at your place, to even influencing your decision to stay in Tokyo when you could have left to teach at the school in Kyoto; but not even once had you called him out on it, not seriously at least.

“It might have been something I did,” he admitted.

Ieiri was about to asked what it had been when he spoke again.

“I think… I took something from them.”

Stole… Yeah, I stole that kiss from them.

Is that why you were upset after, because he got carried away and kissed you?

Your hurt and distasteful expression flashed before his eyes.

No, there was more to it.

“You took something? Without permission, I assume.” Ieiri was looking at him.

She knew Gojo had a habit of following that saying: 'Better ask for forgiveness than permission'.

The thing was that even if he did not ask for permission, he rarely asked for forgiveness.

“Can’t you just return it?” she questioned, referring to the ‘something’ Satoru said he had taken.

“No.”

Gojo allowed himself to smile a little as he remembered how you had kissed him back. As bitter as the aftermath had been, for a fleeting moment when your lips moved with his, he thought all pieces were falling into place.

Shoko looked at him suspiciously and sighed. “I guess if you can’t return it, apologize and pay up.”

He hummed.

If only it were that easy.

“And just maybe give it some more thought,” Ieiri continued. “If someone calls you selfish, I think it’s more about your feelings than theirs…. Or to how they think you feel.” She gestured vaguely with her hand. “I guess one or the other.”

“My feelings?” Gojo felt confused by his friend’s words. He knew Shoko was not great at explaining stuff, but what did his feelings have to do with anything? You had not even wanted to hear them.

Ieiri was already standing up and had to looked down at him when she asked him “What you did, did you really do it out of selfishness?”

Satoru knew he could be a selfish man sometimes if the situation called for it, but that night he had just been… impatient. He did not want to spend one more second without knowing how you felt now, without you knowing how he felt.

Was that what you were thinking when you confessed? Had been your heart burning like his?

“No, not really,” he answered honestly.

“Then tell them that,” she said. “People don’t know how you truly feel about whatever you do until you tell them.”

He stood up. “That’s not a bad piece of advice.”

Shoko shrugged. “Whatever helps.” She turned around on her heels but stopped to look back at Gojo. “I guess it is also a piece of love advice.”

He looked at her, but she could not tell his eyes reflected surprise.

“Whatever you have to say, you don’t want to wait until it’s too late.” The closed lip smile she gave him, made Satoru think she was talking from experience, but her demeanor changed in a second. “It’s just a thought. What do I know anyway?” and she left.

Satoru smiled for himself.

Thanks, Shoko.

***

“Under what motive?” the oldest of the three men in the dimly light room asked the other two. “Seems to be a personal revenge. If they want to kill them, let them settle it themselves. Why meddle?”

“They probably do not want to become a target to the Gojo clan,” the man on his left replied.

He had referred to them as the Gojo clan, but they all knew they were thinking of one man in particular.

“Is the [your family name] that strongly connected to the Gojo clan? Is there some kind of contract between families?”

“None there are records of, but there are rumors they are...”

“That would explain it,” the third man, who had been silent all along, finally intervened. “Their attitude about the incident with Geto Suguru; their reluctance to reason with Gojo Satoru when he proclaimed himself the tutor of that kid of the Zenin, and now this; it is obvious where their loyalty lies.”

“A most uncooperative attitude, indeed, but is it necessary to do anything about it?” the first man asked.

“Weeds must be pulled out on time. We learned that the hard way” the second man finished.

***

'I’m alive. Can we meet when you have time?'

That had been Satoru’s message to you.

You had told him you were getting back to work today, and you could meet there. If you had told him he could come to your place yesterday, he would have known at first sight that you had gotten hurt in your last mission.

He does not need to know I got beaten up like that.

And now you were resting your back against a tree despite the cold weather around you. That was yours and Satoru’s usual reunion spot most mornings before work. It was not official, but you always stood there for a few minutes before walking the rest of the pathway and clocking in. At first, it had just been a good spot to finish your morning coffee, but at some point, it became the spot where you waited for Satoru.

Right, it was also not far from here.

You looked around for the spot where you had confessed. Unsurprisingly, you did not feel like having any morning coffee for a few days after that.

Maybe it’s not as bad as I remember it. Maybe I could ask Satoru if it was.

You closed your eyes and sighed.

No, I can’t do that. I’m not even sure of how I’m going to face him today.

When Satoru saw you, a smiled formed on his lips, but it quickly faltered when he realized he was not sure of how to approach you.

You two had gone back to texting each other just the day before, after a long period of complete silence, and furthermore, after that fight, or miscommunication, or “biggest screw-up so far”, as Satoru had been referring to the incident of that day in his head. What should be the first thing he tells you now?

He did not regret kissing you, but after giving it more thought, he had reached the conclusion that Ieiri was right, he should have made his feelings clearer.

He needed to be direct now, but what if you did not take it kindly if he just spitted that he was in love with you on your face? Jeez, he should have at least brought flowers or candy. Would that not have been more romantic?

“Satoru?”

Or coffee, he should have at least brought you something to drink.

“Satoru?”

You had opened your eyes and were looking at him.

I love you.

He wanted to just say it, but what came out instead was “Coffee.”

“Coffee?” you asked.

Idiot, Satoru told himself.

“No! I mean, I should have brought you coffee.” Why was he so nervous?

“Okay? We can have some in the teachers’ room,” you told him. You straighten up and looked ahead; you were technically in the school grounds, but you still had to walk some more before making it to the main building. “Shall we?”

Satoru gave you a silent nod and you both started walking.

You had asked him how his mission had been, and he said it went all right, but he had forgotten your souvenir at home. Then he asked how you had been, and you told him you were fine. Then you were out of subjects to discuss, and the silence felt uncomfortable. Had this path always been this long?

Suddenly, Satoru touched your arm and both of you halted.

When you turned your head to him, it seemed he had his eyes on the spot where his hand was touching you, right above your elbow.

You could feel the wam of his hand even through your clothes.

“About the other night…”

So he was going to address the elephant in the room.

You bit your tongue. Whatever he had to say, you had to hear it.

“I am sorry. I did not mean to…” he was still not meeting your gaze, but his hand was sliding down to yours. “I did not mean to upset you.”

“I’m sorry too, for kicking you out and...”

“I like you.” His hand squeezed yours as he pronounced those words.

“As in…”

What did he mean? You knew he liked you as a person and as his friend, but if he was saying what you were thinking…

His free hand removed a loose stand of hair off your face. “As in I like you.”

If anyone looked at you two, there would be no more mistaking it; all rumors would automatically be considered true: the strongest sorcerer had a thing for his childhood friend.

“You don’t need to say anything now,” he continued when he saw a hint of hesitation on your face. “Just say you will think about it, okay?”

When had he started liking you? If he rejected you months ago, was it not kind of recent?

When he kissed you, was it because he liked you or because he believed you were leaving him alone?

You liked him as much as ever, and more than once you had wished his answer had been different months ago when your feelings came out of the bag, but those awkward days after, and the turbulence that followed had taught you that you did not want him out of your life. What would happen if things did not work out? None of you could probably revert to how they had been before. Was it worth risking your friendship after all?

You nodded to Satoru's question, and he gently pulled you to resume your walk.

You eyed your hand enclosed in his. “Shouldn’t we…?”

He kept looking ahead with a light smile. “Just a little longer, can we?”

Satoru rubbed the back of your hand with his thumb and finally let go of it when you reached your destination and parted ways to go to your respective students.

He felt satisfied believing he had made his feelings clear this time, while you could only think of how cold your hand had felt without his, and how if you broke each other’s hearts, he might never want to hold your hand again.

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

Note: I'm alive!

Thank you for reading!

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[tetsuski]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬

Satoru Gojo

[Chapter 22] Upset

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Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader

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You’re not exactly on the best terms with Satoru when your vacation comes to an end. You try to act like you’re fine, but you can’t stand even looking at him. Perhaps you shouldn’t have asked for the reason why he left if you knew you couldn’t handle the truth. Everything with Satoru was doing great until you decided to ask that question. You knew you should’ve left it alone, but curiosity got the best of you.

Satoru knows that he messed up, he knew so long before but now you’re… Even colder towards him. He never really thought that was possible, but you’ve proved him wrong. Maybe it’s because now that he knows that you have a son together, you should communicate more, yet, you don’t talk about anything that doesn’t involve Ren. 

Lately that’s the only topic of conversation that he can have with you without you outright ignoring him– And about work of course. Satoru can’t even be mad at you for ignoring him because he knows that he fucked up badly. He thinks that maybe he shouldn’t have told you the truth, but if he keeps hiding stuff then your relationship will end up nonexistent.

“Hey.” He grabs your arm when you’re about to walk past him without saying a word. You glare at him, your look giving him a warning to let go of you. He does just as your eyes tell him. “My mom… Invited you to dinner.”

“Are you crazy? Why would I?” You don’t hold back on giving him attitude, he deserves it and you know he won’t do anything about it. You click your tongue, “You’ve lost your mind.”

“She just wants to see Ren.” He says, but it doesn’t change your mind about anything. You don’t care what she wants to do, she has to learn that she’s not entitled to your child.

“I love how you forgive her so easily. I know that if I was in your situation…” You begin but you end up biting your tongue. He made the right decision. “What does she even want? She can stop by the apartment if she wants to see Ren so badly. The woman is unemployed, she has time.”

“I think she wants to talk about getting a tutor for Ren.” Satoru shares, and you sigh. She’s brought up getting a tutor for your son and you’ve turned her down. Ren is going to start school soon, you just want him to enjoy the time he has left before going to school daily. He knows everything that’s necessary, at least from what you’ve seen.

“Can you tell her to drop it?” You respond, and Satoru takes a deep breath. He doesn’t really want to get in between your issues. He also doesn’t see a downside to a tutor so he can’t really agree with you.

“Why shouldn’t Ren have a tutor? I mean, since you didn’t send him to preschool then–” He says, and you have to cut him off. He’s irritating you more than ever.

“Ren is fine without one, Satoru. I’ve made my decision. This conversation is over.” You tell him, and he clenches his jaw. You walk away, and the man curses under his breath. You hear it though, and you just tell yourself that if he dares stop by, you’ll slam the door in his face.

“Daddy!” You hear Ren yell. A sigh escapes your lips as you stand in the kitchen. The plan was to not let him in, but you forget that this is his mother’s apartment and he obviously can get entrance easily. You shouldn’t be upset, Ren is happy to see his father… But you really don’t want to spend more time with Satoru.

Perhaps you should consider having split custody but the thought of not having Ren by your side at all times hurts. It’s selfish, but you think you have the right to be selfish after everything. Satoru can’t be the only selfish one here.

You turn off the stove and wipe your hands before walking out of the kitchen. You glare at Satoru as he picks up Ren from the floor, and he begins to talk to his son. Satoru looks at you briefly before looking away. For a man that wants your forgiveness, he sure loves to piss you off, at least that’s what it seems.

“It’s nice to see you, Satoru. Next time send a message.” You say to the man, who smiles at you. You roll your eyes at him, and Satoru bites down his bottom lip. He mutters an apology, but you pretend not to hear it. “I made dinner for two, seems like you’ll have to sit this one out.”

“It’s fine. I’m not hungry.” He lies. He hears his stomach growl but it’s not like he was expecting to have dinner with you and Ren. You do usually make extra though. He doesn’t know why he was expecting differently since he’s not in your good graces right now.

“Are you hungry?” Ren asks, and Satoru shakes his head. However, Ren hears Satoru’s stomach growl again. When you walk away, Ren puts his ear around Satoru’s ear, bringing his little lips to Satoru’s ear, “We can share my dinner.”

“It’s okay, baby. You’re a growing boy, you need it more than me.” Satoru grins. His son really is an angel sent from heaven– Well maybe not that, but he’s certainly sweet. “I’ll just order something, and get you a dessert too.”

“Can it be ice cream?” Ren looks at his father with puppy eyes but Satoru isn’t too sure that getting ice cream delivered is a good idea.

“We’ll see.” Satoru says before putting Ren down on the floor. Satoru puts his hands in his pockets, awkwardly watching as Ren goes to your side. The food you’re making smells so good, and his mouth is salivating. 

“Ren, take a seat, baby. I’ll give you your plate.” You tell the boy, and Ren nods in response. He makes sure to grab Satoru’s hand and drag him to the dinner table. Satoru can’t help but notice how Ren grew an inch. That almost brings a tear to Satoru’s eye because the kid is growing up too fast. 

It’s awkward to have Satoru sit at the dinner table while you and Ren eat. But Satoru wasn’t invited so he shouldn’t expect to have a plate. Especially when you’re mad at him.

“Can daddy sleep over?” Ren asks you, and you shake your head. There’s no space for Satoru in your home.

“He has his own home, and he has to say hello to his mom and his wi–” Satoru cuts you off before you can get the last word out.

“Yeah, I have to go back home before my own mommy gets worried about me.” Satoru chuckles, and he can’t even believe the words that leave his lips. He doubts his mother would get too worried about him. Only God knows how badly he wants to stay the night, he misses staying under the same roof as his son, but he knows you’d be too uncomfortable. He wishes he could go back to your vacation. 

Ren pouts, and you take a deep breath, knowing what’s about to come. However, you’re proven wrong when Ren decides to stay quiet. Instead, he asks for something different a few minutes later, “Can I stay with daddy?”

“As in?” You respond. You have an idea of what he means, but you don’t really want it to be what you’re thinking.

“Can I go to his home and sleep over?” His words hurt your heart but you can’t say no. You don’t feel like you have the right to say no. In the end, Satoru is still his dad and Satoru should be able to have him spend the night.

“If Satoru wants.” You respond, putting down your utensils because your appetite dies down. Satoru smiles at his son and nods, making you take a sip of your drink. You clear your throat and say, “I’ll go pack your bag.”

“I can help–” Satoru begins, but you don’t want nor need his help.

“I’m fine. Just watch Ren.” Your voice is a bit harsher than you mean it to be. You don’t mean to sound mad or upset, yet, that’s what your voice emits. Ren looks at his father, about to ask if you’re upset but he decides to stay quiet. 

“Are you excited?” Satoru rubs Ren’s back, smiling big at his son. Ren nods in response. He wonders where his dad lives, and how he lives. He’s not remember his grandmother’s big mansion, plus his father is a grown man, he ought to live separately from his grandmother.

“I don’t want mommy to be upset.” Ren comments, and Satoru sighs. 

“She’s not upset, if she was, she wouldn’t have let you go with me.” Satoru claims, and that makes a lot of sense in Ren’s mind so he allows himself to be happy about it. Ren stands up on his chair, looking at the hallway where his bedroom door is. When he knows the coast is clear, he gives his plate to Satoru.

“Since you’re hungry, you can have my leftovers.” Ren says when he sits back down. Satoru laughs before kissing the top of Ren’s head. He really can’t thank you enough for Ren. You’re not even talking to him though, and he has to think of how to fix that because showing up unannounced at your apartment isn’t going to.

“Ren… What’s a gift your mommy would really like?” Satoru can’t believe he’s asking his four-year-old (who keeps reminding everyone that he’s almost five) what to get for you. A couple of years ago Satoru would’ve known immediately, but you’ve changed. The person that knows you better than anyone is your son.

“A puppy.” Ren doesn’t waste a second. Now, Satoru doesn’t know you as well as he did, but what Ren answered sounds like something that Ren wants and not you. Satoru crosses his arms and raises his brows.

“Really? Is that something mommy wants or something Ren wants?” Satoru says, and Ren purses his lips together. How the hell is he supposed to know what you like? Satoru ends up sighing. He’ll figure it out.

He makes sure to finish the food quickly before you get back, putting the plate back on Ren’s side. Satoru ruffles Ren’s hair and stands up to go to the kitchen to get himself a glass of water. Satoru hears,

“Here’s your bag, Ren. Listen to whatever your daddy says.” And Satoru almost laughs at how stoic you sound.

“We’re not leaving yet!” Satoru yells from the kitchen before walking back. Satoru doesn’t really like being in his home for too long, why would he immediately leave? He’s still going to pester you, even if you’re mad at him. “How about we watch a movie here?”

“I mean, it’s not like I can kick you out. You have a key to the place.” You answer. “Knock yourselves out– Hold on, Ren’s plate is too clean.”

“The boy was hungry, what can I say?” Satoru and Ren have been caught red-handed. 

“Yeah, little Ren that barely touches his carrots finished them all?” You click your tongue, and Satoru scratches the back of his neck. 

“We’ve got a growing boy…” Satoru chuckles, and you roll your eyes.

[tetsuski]

camp

ii; good different

｡･ﾟﾟ･atsumu x fem! reader

｡･ﾟﾟ･college and 90s au

description...

atsumu miya was the bane of your existence growing up. always making it his job to tease and taunt you daily. as time went on you detached yourself from the neighborhood kids, your frequent, unwanted presence merely becoming a thing of the past. however, the summer of '98 causes you and atsumu to face the past.

warnings!

2.1k words

none!

"get him out of here," your hands slammed down on the wooden desk, shaking the small handmade frames and shitty trinkets that littered the surface. "i just wasted forty-five minutes of my day because he couldn't take a normal picture without staring at me with this dumb expression he gets on his face," a dry laugh left your lips as an exasperated expression overtook your features. tiredly, you sink back into the wobbly plastic chair littered with mysterious stains--most likely filled with kiddy germs, "why'd you have to hire him?"

"we're short-staffed--and he had a good application," the older woman leaned forward, resting her weight on her crossed arms. "why? ya have a bad fling with him--"

"NO! god no!" your eyes screwed shut, cringing at the nauseating thought. your face burned as if it was the surface of the sun, you shoved your face into your hands as if your palms could soothe the humiliating burn.

she let out an amused chuckle as she rested back into her spinny chair, causing the faux leather to peel off even further. "i just assumed," she put her arms up as a way to signal her surrender, "considerin' yall were from the same neighborhood and good lookin'."

you groan as you shake your head in your hands. "it's just playground stuff," you mutter, "it shouldn't have even come here--this is all very unprofessional--i apologize-" you ramble as you quickly begin to get up and out of your seat.

"wait, wait, if something is botherin' ya, ya are more than welcome ta tell me about it--i barely know miya-"

"no, no, no," you dismiss with a shake of your hand as begin to open up the office door, "I'll figure it out on my own! but thank you." with a smile you close the door behind you and let out a sigh. you quickly scurry out of the building, only slowing once you make it down the rotting steps--feet on steady ground.

you hunch over suddenly--violently--as you let out a callous but silent scream. hoarse fragments leave your mouth as you jump up and down stomping your feet erratically on the damp dirt. whispered curses bellow as you pull at your hair. your movements were so unsettling that if there was any chance of an ax murderer hiding out in the surrounding forest you definitely scared them away.

"stupid fucking bitch!" your grating curses fell upon deaf ears as you fell to your knees, repeatedly pounding at the ground as you panted. your forehead grew sweaty as you finally began to run out of energy, shallow breaths were the only sounds flowing through your head.

as you steadied your breath you looked down at your fingernails, covered in chipped nail polish, gripping onto your denim shorts. the blurriness in your vision began to dissipate as a pair of dirty sneakers snuck into your view.

your eyes trailed up the figure, making you let out a vexed whine as you landed on the familiar hazel eyes. you rolled your eyes, "what do you want?" a displeased sigh left your lips as he looked down at you in your weary state.

as he crouched down, you huffed at how he still towered over you. "ya were rollin' aroun' on the floor--the dirt," he let out a nervous chuckle as you only glared up at him making the climate even more suffocating in the beastly humididty. he let out a breath that he had been holding as he looked at anything but your figure underneath him, "jus' wanted ta check on ya-"

"i didn't need you to check on me," your tone was sharp as you pushed yourself off of the ground, shaking off any dirt left upon your converse. "why were you looking for me?'

it was now your turn to tower over him. and for one of the few times in his life, atsumu felt small compared to someone else...and he couldn't figure out why. maybe it was the way you looked down at him like he was dog shit on your shoe; or maybe it was his newfound attraction that made you look like a gift sent down from god; possibly a third thing--the fact that you had something over his head--the fact that he alienated and treated you like secondary when you were younger.

he snapped out of his thoughts as your hand began to wave in front of his face, "hello? what do you want from me?-"

"are ya gonna tell everyone?"

your expression softened, as confusion began to appear, "what are you-"

"are ya gonna tell everyone about how...about how i treated ya?"

a short, bitter laugh leaves your lips as you look down at him. atsumu looks up at you like a kicked puppy that doesn't want to look like he's been hurt. "no, i don't care to let everyone know about sandbox drama," his expression begins to lift with hope, "but i can hold a grudge," and then it drops. "so if that's all you had to ask then i think we're done here," you begin to turn on your heels.

"um the guys wanted me ta ask ya'd go into town ta get everyone pizza.."

you blink, "sure... i guess, what did they want?"

"they gave me a piece of paper with it on it."

"..." you look at him expectantly.

"..."

"...are you going to give it to me?"

the faux blond begins to get off of the ground, "nah, 'm gonna come with ya!" he smiles as he waves the slip of yellow notepad paper in front of your face, quickly pulling it back as you jump for it, "i don't believe in grudges, so we're gonna squash this, this summer!"

"no," you say through gritted teeth as your fists clench at your sides, "you're going to give the paper to me, so i can get in my car and get it by myself."

"well...no," he smiles down at you, "if i can't come, i guess you'll just disappoint everyone, and ya wouldn't like that now would ya?" he leans forward, "they speak so highly of ya," he tsks as he backs up, hands behind his back.

you looked as if cartoon-like smoke would come from your ears at any moment, "give me the paper atsumu!" you spit as you tried to grab it from behind his back. you lunge forward but he's quicker as he stuffs the paper into the front of his shorts.

your eyebrows furrow as he shrugs with a half smile, "ya can have it if ya get it yerself," he smirks as you suck in a frustrated breath through your nostrils.

you shove your keys into the ignition of the 1996 lexus gs 300, as atsumu slides into the passenger seat with the obnoxiously goofy smile on his face that you hated. it was as if the red hand-shaped mark adorning the side of it meant nothing!

as you began to pull out of the dirt driveway, he spotted your case holding your CDs. he began to plunder through it--much to your dismay as you maneuvered onto the road. a sound of excitement left the opposite side of the car as he pulled out a cd that caught his eye.

"i love hall and oates!" he smiled as he began to put it into the cd player, but you quickly slapped his hand making him flinch back. "why don't ya wanna listen to a cd that ya bought?" an incredulous look overtook his face as he glanced over at you.

"if you like it, i don't want to hear it," you give him a tight-lipped smile before facing the road again. "put on the blue cd," you instruct prompting him to dig through the bag.

he pulls out the cd only to make his face scrunch up in disgust, "weezer...?" he looks over at you, the displeased look unable to leave his face.

"i love weezer," you spare him a quick look as your eyebrows furrow, a small pout on your lips.

"well 'm not puttin' that on," he stuffs the cd back into the bag and tosses it into the backseat. ignoring your protests, he slides the compilation album, looking back, into the player. he picks up the piece of plastic as he skims the back, looking for the song he wanted to skip to.

after ten nosiy clicks of the forward button, "maneater" begins to blare through the car stereo system. he sticks his arm out of the car window and begins to tap his hand on the door to the beat.

you sigh and pull your sunglasses down over your eyes as your hair whips in the wind. atsumu begins to hum along, testing the waters. as you continue to ignore him he begins to sing along quietly, "oh here she's comes," he looks over at you as he sings along, "she's a maneater..." you tap your finger on the steering wheel to the song.

as he continues to sing, he notices you silently lip-syncing to the song, "just sing," he urges making you hum and raise an eyebrow, "ya know ya want to...and this is basically yer song."

your head snaps to face him, "what's that supposed to mean?'

"ya clearly get a lot more attention from guys now because ya look so...different," he says matter of factly making you reach over and tug on a piece of his hair forcing him to wince. "a good different! yer hot now! like totally smokin'!" you shoot him a lethal glare from above your glasses.

"ok, ok..." he sinks back into his seat, the hot seatbelt burning into his chest.

the rest of the ride is in silence--well partial silence as hall and oates plays softly. the sun has begun to set, painting the sky in hues of pink, orange, and yellow. you look over to your side to see atsumu looking out the window as you turn into the parking lot.

you switch off the car with a sigh.

"all i did was get contacts and my braces off..." you mutter under your breath catching his attention.

"hmm?"

"you're obviously curious--i just always looked like this i guess-"

"no...something else looks different too..." his eyebrows furrow in thought. his eyes start from the top of your head: a new haircut, obviously--maybe even some color; the glasses have been ditched, but you have more piercings now--four in each ear and a silver nose ring; your teeth are straight and you've ditched that overbite thanks to the braces. his eyes begin to drift further down...down to your-

"boobs!"

your eyes quickly follow his line of vision, arms flying up to cover your chest, "you want another mark on the other side of your face to match?" you sneer as you feel your face heat up with agitation.

"you have boobs now, that's what i couldn't figure out!"

"atsumu! i'm going to kick your stupid teeth in!" you seethe as you wish the earth would sink in and swallow you whole. his gaze is unmoving as he looks at you with a dopey grin and matching red ears.

"i'm sorry, i'm sorry!" he exclaims as he finally looks away. your arms slowly begin to drop from your chest as you unfasten your seat belt, gaze following astumu's movements as he unbuckled his seat belt as well.

a breath that you felt you'd been holding in for centuries falls from your lips as you close your eyes for a moment. a small moment of peace as you'd not only been running around setting up camp for the past three days but you'd been forced to face your unruly neighbor head-on after avoiding him for years. with your head titled back onto the seat rest, your eyes flutter open at the sound of uneasy rustling coming from the passenger seat. the slow turn of your head aids in no halt of his movements.

the sight of him fitfully digging in the front of his shorts, makes your eyes go wide and cheeks heat up as you yell to grab his attention. why'd you yell? it was a rash decision!

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?" the guttural sound makes him jump in his seat, hands still stuck in his pants as he tries to quickly fumble around to get them out.

two deers in a set of headlights stare at each other across the gear shift, as the inside of the car gets unbearably hot. as he stumbles over his words your eyes constantly flicker between his incredibly red face and his hands groping in the front of his shorts.

"TAKE YOUR HAND OUT OF YOUR PANTS?"

'THE PIZZA ORDER!"

notes !

☆ i totally just watched lisa frankenstein and the freakout part is totally inspired by that.

☆ atsumu is having a hard time talking to y/n--not just because she's his type now, and intimidatingly pretty, but because he's only ever had mean things to say about her.

☆ surprisingly--to atsumu at least--y/n's pretty into rock music ie. weezer, nirvana, green day, radiohead, the cranberries, etc. whereas, atsumu is rather nostalgic and listens to music from when he was a kid ie. hall and oates, david bowie, michael jackson, al green, etc.

☆ when atsumu finally got the list out of his pants, it was crumpled, full of penis sweat, and unreadable. luckliy, y/n was able to make an educated guess on what they wanted because she's worked with them so long (and she was spot on).

taglist ! open

@bakugoswaif @luvly-writer @littlemiyastars @tvhsleb3ww @yachi-luvr @rosieandthethorns @lzaj19 @kaymarnun

if your name is bolded i couldn't tag you :(

dividers by @plutism

[tetsuski]

𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐙𝐘

≡ miya osamu x reader

↳ you think he hasn’t figured you out, rather he thinks he’s got you almost figured out. but one things for sure, is that... he is in fact crazy for you. 

tw/cw: nothing !! just fluffy lovely ‘samu and food ˃ᴗ˂ 

✉ : this is a re-edit !! i changed somethings about this fic from before heh but i love this man. I truly believe he'll be such an acts of service type of lover and he'll love sooooo well sighhh but i hope you enjoy !!

“Babe, you sure don’t want anything? ‘m gonna place in my order right now.” 

Leaning against the ledge of the door, looking casual and comfortable, with nothing but a loose fitting shirt that still outlined his toned chests with his arms crossed with a pair of gray sweats, despite the comfortable leisure Osamu still looked good — perfect, exquisite, charming, handsome.

Though he would never understand, nor will he ever see it for himself, why your eyes would scan his body for a couple seconds before giving him an answer.

Why your hands would linger around his waists, where the soft padding of your fingers would teasingly graze inside his shirt, just at the waistband, whenever he donned on these simple gray sweats.

“Yer drooling princess,” lowly chuckling as he shook his head with a grin, “what do you want?” he questioned again. 

“Hmm…” rubbing your chin, giving it some thought to appease your waiting boyfriend.

“Yea, just let me know, I’ll order.”

 “you.” 

“I-...” letting out a sigh, “YN, hurry.”

“I don't know why you would think I’m joking,” you teased whilst crawling over to your boyfriend, softly grunting as your knees planted into the mattress. “You, I want you,” emphasizing while making your way over, your shorts softly crawling up your thighs, pooling at your hips, showing off a plump of fat teasing at your ass and despite knowing his buttons were being pushed, you still pushed… 

“... you’re so annoying,” Osamu grumbled under his breath, yet his chest leaned closer into you.

“I would like a large portion of you right now,” you stated with a hint of a tease in your voice as you firmly locked gazes with your boyfriend. 

“I’m not joking, YN…” softly sighing as he pulled your shorts down, his calloused fingers accidentally brushing against the warmth of your skin, soft mutters leaving his lips unattainable to you. 

And lowly groaning as your fingers held onto the string of his waistband, pulling closer to your smaller frame as your palm glid past his toned abdomen, causing him to softly growl as he quickly grabbed your wrists to stop your teasing, looking straight into your innocent eyes as you whisped your lashes, “do you want anything or not?”

Wrapping your arms around his neck, tugging his face inches close to yours, lips brushing against each other, you felt his hands immediately station at your waist, the padding of his fingers softly gripping onto your bare skin, “Why would I want anything else when my boyfriend’s been looking like a total snack?” you purred.

Slowly inching one of your hands down his back, down to his waists only to grope one of his firm cheeks, causing your boyfriend to unintentionally flinch at your flirty aggression. 

“You’re a tease, you know that?” Osamu growled as he pushed his face further into yours, only for you to lean back and dodge his attempt in actually matching lips with yours. 

“Then don’t be so sexy?” You cocked back, softly cupping his face in your hands and planting a kiss on his forehead, to his thickly defined eyebrows, to his beautiful set of mildly hooded eyes, to the tip of his nose, and eventually to the place he’s been craving for the most, his lips. 

Smiling in between kisses but not sacrificing the fervor and passion behind the movements of his lips with yours — the knowing of each other in between the chasm of still the unknowing — Osamu smirked as he gave his last kiss before brushing the padding of his thumb against yours, cutting the thin line of saliva connecting you both, 

“I’m not going to share, so don't get mad when I tell you no,” he brushed his lips against your forehead, planting a soft kiss. 

“Yea yea whatever,” you brushed him off.

….

You and Osamu weren’t necessarily the type to go out for a date, both genuinely appreciating the intimacy and closeness that comes with having a leisure date at home. It was more often than not that you both would find yourself entangled in the bedsheets during the soft hues of the morning, watching a movie with a pizza or icecream in hand as you rounded down your day, doing facemasks together while he painted your nails on a normal friday evening, or him making a meal as you helped him prep every sundays.

If there was one word that could define his love, a mere adjective that could measly contain what it means to be loved by Miya Osamu would be sacrificial — without thought, without hesitance, simply embedding into his bones, that was his love. 

Truly he adored, yes he splendored you with words of affirmation, covering you in his love as he gifted you with small tokens of his heart to the grand gestures he displayed on anniversaries. But in all knowing, Miya Osamu was most sacrificial. 

And today, today was movie night. 

Setting up the movie as he sat on the carpeted floor in front of the coffee table, with your arms around his waist, latching onto him like a koala with your cheeks squished against his firm back, your fingers softly playing with the crevice of fat on his stomach as he slouched forward, you inhaled a strong measure of his scent, his fragrance coating inside your nostrils as you further sank into this comfort. 

Home, Osamu smelled like home. 

The smell of sweetness that brought you excitement yet meshed with the comfort of your heart slowly beating. 

The smell of rest — the type of rest where you can fall asleep and wake up feeling actually rejuvenated, energerized, and complete. 

The smell of rest where nothing seems to be in your way, dare manage to cross your path, simply knowing that you were safe. 

The smell that’s been deeply ingrained into your brain, the scent that comes with a euphoria of emotions and thoughts of knowing the small glimmers of love as you searched its depths for what it means to continually love, and love well.

And when he wasn’t drenched in sweat — albeit still fragrant and lovely, and mindfully sexy — after his workout or when he was coming back from work, Osamu’s scent was a mixture of a faint hue of shampoo, tenderly mixed in with the fragrance of his light cologne and his body wash. A smell you’ve grown used to over the years of being with him. A familiar smell that you now can’t live without… a smell that eases your anxious bone, yet still tenses up your core — for you to feel safe, seen, and … loved. 

“You’re a pervert,” Osamu hummed as he looked straight ahead while picking out a movie, voiced unfazed as he repeatedly clicked on the remote button, where the palm of his other hand purely and mindlessly massaged your legs, humming softly as he made his way through the list of recommended movies. 

Snuggling even deeper into his frame, tightening your grip onto his waist, scooting closer into his back as your legs wrapped around his front, as you brushed your nose against the soft fabric of his shirt, feeling the indents and textures of his muscular physique,

“I’m not… you just smell so good Samu, it’s your fault,” you murmured.

“Yea, sure… pervert,” chuckling as his palms softly massaged your legs, taking a short glance back at you, before refocusing to pick a movie. 

…. 

Around thirty minutes into the movie, both settled into the couch as your legs were wrapped around his body, his fingers tapping against the plush of your thighs over his stomach, the other arm resting behind the back end of the couch with his thighs split open, feet planted to the ground. And sitting comfortably with your head laid on his chest, fingers playing with the string of his sweats, hearing the subtle beats of his heart, you heard a ring on your doorbell.

“It’s probably mine, I’ll go get it,” softly gripping on your thigh for you to move, lowly chuckling, “baby, I’ll be back soon…”

“I’ll give you one minute.”

Leaving with a gentle kiss to the crown of your forehead, he whispered, “You underestimate me,” gently pulling on your cheeks, “I’ll be back in less than that.”

Tightly bundling yourself with a blanket, feeling unmotivated to continue watching without the feeling of his deep breathing, and the small vibrations of his chest when he chuckled at a scene or when he whispered short ‘I love yous’ as he mindlessly showered your forehead with gentle kisses, pulling you even closer to his chest, cradling you in to his body. 

Osamu spoiled you rotten. 

Because to you, to the bone, and to his core, Osamu was love. He showed love through his action, and he mirrored love through his words. He was the one that pivoted the way for you to understand that it didn’t take much to actually love. And he made it absolutely clear that in no way or form should you be treated less than what you deserved. 

You wanted more of him, more of his little snorts that at first caught you off guard but now sound loveable to your ears. 

Moments when he scrunches his eyes when he laughs a bit too hard. Or when he pulls you in, gazing deep into your eyes as his face shows nothing but peace — a channel to his heart — swaying you back and forth in silence as he simply holds you in his arms. 

You already missed him. 

Twenty nine

Thirty

Thirty one seconds

And hearing the footsteps of his heavy bare feet, thumping as it hit the tiles of the cold floor, you knew he was coming back to you.

Thirty two

Thirty three seconds

And plopping onto the floor as he shimmied to a place of comfort right in front of you, just close enough so that you could tend your fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp as he happily ate just like always. 

In thirty four seconds, he was back.

“How’d I do on time babe,” he cheekily asked.

“You failed, you took too long.”

“Yea?” Turning back to softly run his hands against your thighs, “‘m sorry,” placing a kiss to your knee cap, “I’ll do better next time," he muttered before turning away with a loose smile on his face, Osamu stationed his plate and unwrapped his meal. 

“What did I miss?” he murmured while alternating his gaze from preparing his food and looking at the screen.

“I don’t know,” you muttered out, the aroma of your boyfriend’s food causing your mouth to salivate, “I didn’t pay attention,” you gulped down. 

He was just about to start eating, looking so excited to indulge, just so ready to pick up a spoonful of his rice to happily chow down for the next couple of seconds thereafter…but you didn’t mean to — especially when you get a whiff of his food...well, you never purposely mean to. 

You regretted not getting your own. 

You always regretted not getting your own. 

The moment you got a sniff of the savory fragrance of his meal as he passed by, the moment he opened the container and the whiff of heat spewed out with the droplets of hot perspiration on the sides, the moment he took a bite without even asking if you cared for some…  so you waited just because… he should just know. 

You knew you were being somewhat manipulative, but he’s been through this with you way too many times for him to not know. 

He should know… if he loved you, then he should know, you thought.

Totally forgetting about him asking if you wanted your own plate not even an hour before, and with Osamu seemingly unaware or in what you believed as him deliberately choosing to be blissfully ignorant, you nudge him a bit with your foot to get his attention. 

“Yea?” Osamu mumbled with cheeks full.

Yea? Mouth full of food, eyes innocent as he chewed, mouth jammed packed — a habit of his he’s countered since growing up fighting against his brother for the last piece — that his cheeks bulged from the content, his muffled voice ringing through your head like an annoying little echo telling you he was right, and in fact that you were wrong to say no, the guilt running deep inside your brain making your eyes twitch in anger.

‘Yea’ was all your foolish, insensitive, ignorant boyfriend had to say. 

So you nudged his side again, now with a more aggressive approach.

You also knew you were being unfair, especially since he asked if you wanted anything, and it was you who thought teasing him would be more fun than giving him a proper answer. You had no one else to blame, yet the victim of your impending fury as you watched him salvage his meal as he happily enjoyed the movie was none other than Osamu.

But, he should know.

Hearing you huff and sigh, spewing out curses under your breath as you glared at his peaceful state, being deliberately loud to get his attention, and taking a sip of his water to clear out the contents in his mouth, he turned around to look at you.

Osamu already knew what’s been causing your distress, he knew it the moment you decided to be a tease.

He knew it the moment he heard your small grunts, and he heard every sliver of sweet curses you spewed from your pretty mouth.

It’s not that he played ignorant on purpose, all he wants is for you to beg a little and admit that you were wrong. It’s never his intent to ridicule you or ignore you, never in his mind to strip you from what you want — rather he would commit his all to give you everything. But if you were going to play dirty, he wasn’t going to miss out on the chance to do the same. He’s gone through this too many times with his brother, having the same DNA as his heinous twin, Osamu wasn't afraid of getting dirty — Osamu was no man to lose, nor did he understand the concept of losing.

But for you, things started to change. 

So looking at you with one of his eyebrows raised, a look you knew that he knew, you gave him a little pout as your brows furrowed deep into your forehead, quietly muttering, “I hate you.” 

Did you mean it? Hell no. 

But did your stomach? Yes, most likely so. 

Seeing that you weren’t going to let go of your pride, but unable to mask the smirk that threatened to impose on his lips, he raised his arms as he signaled you over with his chin for you to settle in between his legs. 

For Osamu its not that he’ll lose for any given purpose, hell he’ll fight tooth and nail if it was any other person, its that he simply chose to lose, and most willingly so, just like the many other times he put you before himself. Because to him, that was love.   

Hoping that he would be merciful to share his food with you, despite knowing it wouldn’t fulfill his hunger if he shared, you still quickly fell into his warm presence, getting ready to ask the usual, ‘one bite, please Samu?’ as you snuggled your back against his chest, ending the story with him sharing, him losing to you. 

But before you could even ask, your boyfriend cut you off.

“Nope. ‘m not sharing YN… I already told ya,” with his chin on your shoulder, using his arms to wrap around your frame to get access to his utensils. 

“And if I clearly remember, you were the one that said no,” and taking a bite of his food, twirling his spoon, “and said something like that I was the snack?” gulping down and taking a whisk of his water, “so here, you said you wanted me, no?”

“I hate you, you're being mean.” You glared back while pinching his thigh.

“You should know —” and before you could finish your sentence, you felt his tender yet calloused hand softly grasp your jaw, moving your face to the side as his lips met contact with your cheeks.

“I’m joking, I do know, babe… you’ll kill me if I didn’t know,” he stated while littering soft kisses, lips slowly racing to your neck, mixed in with the gentle breaths of his chuckle as he felt you slightly ease into his embrace, “Look inside the bag.” 

“Huh?” you questioned, peering to the side to see something within the plastic. 

“Ya still hate me or what?”

…

And... there you were happy as ever with a bit of rice sticking to the side of your inflated cheeks filled to the brim with food just like your boyfriend’s — except it was your usual dish, with sides different from his. You sat in front of the coffee table with your boyfriend close behind with his arms wrapped around you as he reached over for his food, enjoying the separate plate that he ordered just for you. 

He already knew you would say no, he knew you would regret saying no, and he knew that you would get mad at him if he didn’t share even though he clearly asked if you wanted any.

To be fairly honest, at first, your tendencies confused the hell out of him. He would ponder in the shower, or during his break at work wondering what he did wrong. He would question what he did to fuck things up, and self reflect on areas that he could better himself in for you. He would hesitantly ask his friends — Atsumu when absolutely desperate — only to end up with one conclusion, that you were crazy. 

But now, he knows… he’s got you almost figured out. 

You weren’t crazy, just a bit stubborn. The type of stubbornness that confused him, that made him a little frustrated at first, but now is simply nothing but cute as you bickered at him with the little attitude that you gave him, chuckling whenever you would counter and threat, 

“‘Samu you want to fight? I’m sure I can beat you,” you would confidently threaten whenever you were in the wrong, and didn’t want to say sorry.

“Yer cute,” he’ll respond as he pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms around your frame, “we can, if you can come out of this,” he’ll threaten back with a chuckle as he tightens his grip when he feels you thrash in his arms, only for you to silently mutter a couple seconds after in defeat, “‘m sorry… ”

Yes you stressed him out at times but you never failed to leave a smile on his face at the end of it all.

Was he a masochist? He wouldn’t like to think so… but if it came to you, he would gladly bear it because to him… that was love.

So there you were, unable to notice your boyfriend’s good merits as he watched you laugh while enjoying your dish, reaching over to wipe the remnant of rice left on your lips with his softly padded thumb with a smile etched on his face. 

Osamu never once regretted his decision to pursue you. Sure, dating was difficult. Loving someone imperfect was that much more challenging, but it was never a regret. 

It was through events like these that made him desperately desire and yearn for a domestic life with you, where he felt the need in his core and the electricity running through his body as he thought of life completely with you. To have a family if you would allow, maybe have a dog or two he wouldn't mind, to grow old together as he dedicated himself in loving you increasingly more as each day passed. To watch your hair turn gray, to witness your plump skin start to wrinkle and beautifully crease at your eyes, to age in grace — together. 

To be able to see, to be the one that makes you smile, for him to be the one that reaches over to kiss you good morning, and be the last one to tell you goodnight, that’s when he… remembers, ah, he’s just waiting for the perfect time to pop the question, that you would hopefully be merciful to his honest heart and accept his request because, in his conclusion, he is in fact truly crazy about you.

[tetsuski]

I’ve been seeing so many people write long fics, like 10k+ words and that makes me SO happy

I’m seeing so many people starting a series and whatnot, and I’m SCREAMINGGGG

I just love seeing people create long writing projects because you can tell they really love to write and as the reader we get to spend so much time in the writer’s version of their world, their take on the characters, etc. AHHH

Ik shorter fics typically dominate note wise but to everyone writing fics that are 8K+ words, you’re killing it and you deserve the world and thank you for creating content!

OH and when people who are writing an entire series create cute masterlists for it? I LOVE IT

Anyway, don’t let anyone make you guys feel bad for writing long fics! Don’t feel the need to apologize for your word count! If you’re writing long fics or a series, that just means you love your story and don’t let anyone take that away from you or feel guilty about it OKAY? OKAY

[tetsuski]

NOW PRESENTING… POPSTAR!GOJO the series.

DO YOU WANT LOVE OR YOU WANT FAME? ARE YOU IN THE GAME?

now who told you sleeping with your client of a popstar, the gojo satoru was a good idea? but there’s nothing wrong with having a little fun when the cameras aren’t rolling. after all, what happens in vegas stays in vegas.

beware. this contains nsfw. intended for audiences eighteen & up! popstar! gojo/modern au, fem! reader, unprotected s*x, exhibitionism, angst, love triangle (lol) and more !! some plots may change. can be read as standalones….or not! not in order

note. hi thank u smm for 6.6k that’s insane!! this is my first (mini) series so it’ll be semi slow updates. inspired off gaga’s 'THE FAME' album. enjoy the show!

DID U HEAR? TORU’S GOIN’ ON WORLD TOUR. SEE WHERE HE’S SHOWIN’ NEAR YOU…

AUSTIN, TX. (7:00 PM) 15 SECONDS OF FAME.

fucking your client wasn’t on your bucket list. the famous popstar 'toru' says he can’t perform because of issues he’s having with his voice. but he finds another way to warm up his vocal cords—it involves being between your legs. 4.2k wc

LOS ANGELES, CA. (6:10 PM) POKERFACE.

gojo gets nominated for his fifth grammy. you being his special plus one, he takes you—yet right before he’s prompted to go on stage, he gets a…boner. 5.0k wc

PHILADELPHIA, PA. (6:30 PM) BAD ROMANCE.

being sandwiched between a popstar and geto, his bassist best friend was almost like a fever dream. what happens when they start fighting over who can make you moan the highest note? sharing is caring right? 5.8k wc

MANHATTAN, NY. (7:15 PM) ALEJANDRO.

after an argument regarding gojo’s career, you two take a break and it hurts. you aren’t together, so why should you care? maybe the fame is getting to gojo’s head after all. because you see him get a new assistant the very next day.

ATLANTA, GA. (9:00 PM) LOVEGAME.

is it love or just a game? after months of being on tour with the popstar, you and him contemplate going exclusive. yet of course, that’s when gojo’s old producer, your ex boyfriend comes back into the picture, mr. toji fushiguro.

LAS VEGAS, NV. (6:40 PM) CLOSING….

JUST DANCE.

under rehearsal, coming soon…

© all rights reserved to SCREAMPIED 2024. do not copy or plagiarize. also lmao i dont own the song choices at all so lady gaga pls don’t sue me (i love you queen!)

[tetsuski]

“seek help!” being an insult but u know what, it’s oddly romantic that u would notice stuff about be to the point of knowing that something is wrong, not to mention that you have to care to some extent to bring it to my attention and advise me to do something beneficial (seek help). u just confessed ur love to me in the heat of an argument if u say this to me

[tetsuski]

Megan Thee Stallion Presenting Anime Of The Year Award At 2024 Crunchyroll Anime Awards