✰ Gn!reader X Gojo ✰ Fluff, Reader Is A Teacher At JJT ++ Idk How Else To Describe This One Except

okay that kuroo piece is still coming but have this small sakusa x MSBY!manager blurb that I just thought up and got so excited about!! I’m marking this down as fem!reader just for this specific little ramble. it can be read separately from the series !!

warnings: none, but probably a bit of a disconnect from what really happens at charity galas lmao

sakusa kiyoomi has a certain reputation for being very stoic and stand-offish in public- always polite but rather blunt in interviews. he’s tall, intimidating and not very personable around those who don’t know him, so it’s not a surprise people perceive him this way. his preference for wearing his mask most of the time only adds to this reputation, and he couldn’t care less. in fact, you would argue that he finds comfort in being perceived as unapproachable by strangers.

but when MSBY fans realize how horrifically down bad their favourite wing spiker is for the team manager, they have a field day with this absolutely drastic personality shift.

it starts with little jokes made by fan accounts about how much nicer he is to you in comparison to his teammates. they latch onto passing comments made by bokuto or atsumu about how when you’re at practice they feel at ease because they’re less likely to get obliterated by his sarcastic remarks.

no one has clued into the fact that you’re together yet, just that there’s some serious chemistry between you two.

it doesn’t go much further than that until the night of some charity event a lot of different teams are attending. of course managers are there, as well as coaches and trainers and JVA employees.

you’re doing the press/carpet walk before entering the event and in between photos and walking between journalists, one of the straps of your heels has come undone.

you frown a little and inspect it before realizing your dress restricts your ability to fix it yourself, so you nudge your boyfriend and stick your foot out to draw his attention to your predicament.

you don’t think twice about how there are no words are spoken. just a simple action and understanding between two lovers.

so people watch on as sakusa kiyoomi drops to his knees right then and there without protest and fixes your shoe. you take the opportunity to adjust the neckline of your dress (a deep, silky forest green to match his tie) and look around while you wait for him to finish.

you don’t realize the uproar this is bound to create, and you definitely don’t think twice about the fact that your boyfriend isn’t wearing a mask to this event.

…which means everyone is able to see the blush on his face and the tiny yet extremely lovesick smile on his face as he gets up. you grin and pat sakusa on the cheek in thanks before walking to the next reporter, him trailing behind you dutifully.

you check twitter the next morning and your timeline is flooded with videos of that moment, captions gushing about how sweet and happy he looks. some fans go as far as to say he looks like a lost puppy following you around.

he doesn’t regret it one bit, but you have to comfort him when he loses his stand-offish reputation after that because he dreads the idea of more people possibly coming up to him in public.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I literally sprinted here to write this lmao

not edited!!

tagging: @dira333 @emmyrosee

Ex-boyfriend Bakugou is heavy on the mind this evening.

Imagine you’ve been broken up with Bakugou for a few years now, and outside smalltalk between mutual friends, awkward gatherings and the photographs you see of each other on social media you’ve had barely any contact with each other.

So imagine your surprise when you get a call from Dynamight’s agency— and you hate yourself for the way your heart pulses at the thought that it could be Bakugou calling you. Instantly deflated when you hear the solumn voice of someone at his agency on the other end of the line, the realisation dawns on you that he’d forgotten to change his emergency contact as they begin to describe what had happened to him.

And even though you’re not together and it’s practically been years, you find yourself rushing across Musutafu to find him. Blurting your name across the desk to the poor lady at the hospital as she guides you towards his room— already imagining all these macabre scenarios in your head about what you’ll find.

Dating Bakugou over the years meant you’d definitely seen the man at his worst, from broken bones, comas, life saving operations, and even the after affects of some quirks that were more hindrances than anything else (one in particular which had his quirk coming out as little flowers for the next twenty four hours— you’d managed to make some floral arrangements for the entire house using them. Something that Bakugou hadn’t been too happy about.) but nothing could’ve prepared you for this.

Your boyfriend, ex-boyfriend. Sitting on the edge of the bed looking perfectly fine, save for a few cuts and bruises against his sooty skin. Crimson eyes widening in surprise when he noticed you lingering in the doorway, your feet not brave enough to step over the boundary.

And it takes everything in his power to stop himself from tearing out the IV drip that’s coursing through his veins and bounding over to wrap you in a fierce hug.

“They shouldn’ta called you.” He grumbles, obviously realising why you’re here. Knowing that it’s more from obligation than anything else.

nevermind i’m done being emo instead i’m thinking ab fucking retired army sergeant bakugou and how his dog tags bounce when he first cants his hips to sink into you

My thighs are huge cuz they’re full of secrets

Very long Sukuna

I really have no idea what came over me to draw these but I had to do it, and now you have to suffer the consequences He heard Uraume unwrap food packages

obsessed with this tweet

Insomnia

You had always had trouble sleeping.

As a child, you would wander the house in search of something to do, as a teenager you utilized it for spending countless nights painting the town red with your childhood best friend Yuji, but, as an adult, you find yourself spending more and more nights sitting in front of the window, waiting for the sun to rise in a peaceful quiet. 

The view was always better from your partner Sukuna’s apartment. Tucked into the very top of a complex that scraped against the sky, the city stretched out before his ceiling length windows like an endless mirage of glittering light. Looking out of them, you would never know it was three o’clock in the morning. The city still bustled, people the size of ants crossed the main streets below you in swathes of different walks of life; business men lost to highballs with too much whiskey, friends on their way to the next nightclub, shop workers calling to anyone with a pulse on the sidewalk. It was a perfect people-watching spot and a perfect distraction from the nightmare replaying in your head like a broken record. 

You’re sitting on the cold tile floors of his living room, curled up in a blanket you had taken from the arm of the couch. You’re positive Sukuna had never used it before and that it’s always been a decoration before you had arrived. Now, it was part of your nightly routine when Sukuna had you over to unfold it and curl in, while you spent countless hours drifting off in your own mind waiting for morning. 

It wouldn’t be long before Sukuna was up now, he had a meeting at seven o’clock in the morning that day. The two of you hadn’t gone to sleep until around midnight, naked and content. You wished you could sleep as deeply as he had been when you carefully crawled out of his bed half an hour ago, but you had accepted your insomnia by now. You found ways to live with the burden of it, and you had long since made friends with the silence and peace of nightfall. 

You always did feel guilty when Sukuna was affected by it. Like tonight, when your ears catch the door to his bedroom clicking open and you hear his bare feet against the tile approaching the living room. 

Your heart momentarily skips a beat. You think about hiding- sprinting into the bathroom as an excuse for your late night absence from his bed, but he makes it into the threshold of the living room before you get a chance to decide. 

Despite the guilt washing over you like a bucket of cold water, your heart still warms at the sight of him. He’s slipped into a pair of sweats to come find you and is still in the middle of putting on a tank top when he appears, sleepy and squinting against the light of the city signs glaring in. His hair is still a mess from your fingers pulling on it before bed, which somehow makes him even more heart wrenching to look at. Even when his eyes find you on the floor, and he immediately frowns you’re still starstruck by his sleep drunk appearance. 

“Why are you so good at that?” His voice is thick with sleep, but he talks to you as though you were just in the middle of a conversation. 

You tilt your head at him, peering over your shoulder in confusion. “Good at what?” 

“Leaving without waking me.” He scratches at the back of his head, yawning as he makes his way across the room to come stand beside you. One of his hands sweeps down his face, like he’s trying to wipe away his clear exhaustion. 

“It’s no easy task.” You admit, hoping your innocent smile is enough for him not to push any further. He stares down at you for a moment, searching your eyes reflecting in the neon of the city line. 

He huffs through his nose when he doesn’t find what he’s looking for, muttering to himself as he plops down beside you and folds his legs into a cross-legged position. He’s close enough that his side is flush against yours, his knee resting over top of your own, grounding you. “So stubborn.” You hear him say. 

As if it were second nature, you immediately rest your head against his shoulder and his arm comes around your waist in turn, scooting you even closer to him. The two of you fit together perfectly by now. Constantly trading off between who was yin and who was yang, but always in equilibrium when you were side by side.

“I need to get you a bell.” He murmurs against the shadows of his living room.

You chuckle, “Yeah? Gonna collar me?” You’re just poking fun, but when you peek up at him expecting him to be chuckling too, you find his eyes honed in on your neck, like he’s considering it. 

He doesn’t give you an answer to that one, but you can see it in his eyes that your joke has been taken as a suggestion to be logged away for future use. You bury your face into his shoulder, feeling your cheeks burning in embarrassment. 

You don’t take it back.

 The two of you sit like that for a while, allowing Sukuna’s presence to diffuse the unease from your haunting dreams. He doesn’t have to do much to comfort you. When Sukuna was beside you, comfort was a given. He joins you in silent people-watching, his hand protectively curled over your backside as though he can feel the nightmares lingering just out of his sight. 

After a while, he squeezes you to catch your attention, but doesn’t ask you to pull away from your resting place against him. 

He turns his head to press his lips into your temple, and the way he whispers your name then has you convinced you’d tell him any secret you promised you’d take straight to the grave.  “Why are we awake?” He asks.  

“I couldn’t sleep.” You whisper back,  as though you were afraid that the nightmares would hear you and realize they had won. 

Sukuna takes a few seconds breathing in your scent, patiently waiting for you to give him more information. He hums in disappointment when it’s clear that that’s all you were willing to share at the moment. 

“Suppose I didn’t work you hard enough last night.” 

It’s a joke. Such an obvious one that you can’t help but let out a laugh despite your thoughts weighing heavily. 

“Please,” You plead in a groan, “I barely made it to the living room without crawling on my hands and knees.” This was not a joke. Your legs shook like jello the moment you were on your feet and they ache with the memory of overexertion even when you're sitting. 

“I do love you on your hands and knees.” Another suggestion that you can tell he’s logged away for future use. At this point you were doing it to yourself.

 You still don’t take it back, though. 

“Let’s see,” He clears his throat and his voice takes a different cadence now, no longer conscientious of the time of night… or day rather. “The last time you had a nightmare and I caught you out here, you asked me to make you pancakes. I think I still have the mix in the cupboard…” 

You freeze up against him, your head moving mechanically upwards until you’re face to face with him. The man who reads you like a book. When you’ve tried so hard to stay shut up. When you’ve worked your entire life at achieving the perfect poker face. Time and time again he proves to you that it’s useless when he’s got your soul tucked away in his hold, yet, it never stops surprising you. 

Sukuna tilts his head, smiling like you’ve confirmed his suspicions with just one glance. “What? You think I don’t know that much, at the very least? How aloof you are~” 

He takes the opportunity to scoop your hair away from your shoulder and tuck a few strands behind your ears so that he can see your sleep deprived face clearly. At the same moment, his free hand reaches over and finds yours in the blankets.

He's smug with your shock.

“How long are you going to try to hide from me?” 

“I’m not hiding…” You whisper, even your own voice cannot bear to lie to him. He makes a warning noise, leaning closer like he can tell. 

“One day I’ll know it all. Every secret you want to keep from me. Every dream you’re too shy to tell me.” His mere proximity is enough to scramble your mind. The way his lips play just out of your reach, the way his nose brushes yours ever so slightly, the way his thumb presses into your ring finger, all of it has your focus split into too many incapacitating directions. “Your burdens. Your nightmares. All mine to bear.” 

You don’t doubt him. It’s yourself that you find apprehensive to trust. Convinced that your own mind was going to torture you with him there or not. You had spent years battling insomnia alone, and while you hated to deny him, you hated to get your own hopes up too.

“You can’t scare away all my nightmares, my love.” 

"Hmm, is that right?” Sukuna lifts your hand to his face, presses it against his lips, and places a kiss to the very center of your palm. It's almost as sweet as his next words, “Sounds like I'll just have to give you so many good dreams you’ll forget about the bad ones, then.” 

You wonder if you looked as awestruck as you felt in that moment.

He’s won. He knows he’s won. You can tell by that prideful toothy grin you feel him hiding behind your hand, the one you can see in the curve of his eyes. 

The way your heart climbs into your throat, like it’s desperate to be home in the palm of his hands, has you instantly knowing that you were truly a hopeless cause at this point. 

“When did you become so soft and sweet?” 

Sukuna laughs under his breath, “When I found out that’s just how you like it.” He answers easily, like he’s asked himself the same question before.  

“Now, do you want the pancakes or not?” 

Before you can remind him that he has a meeting in only a few hours, before you can assure him that you weren’t thinking of food at three o’clock in the morning, your stomach releases a growl that’s begging for Sukuna’s undivided attention. 

He snorts, not even bothering to wait for a verbal answer before he’s maneuvering to his feet, still grasping your hand gently in his own. 

“Come sit pretty on the counter for me.” He tugs you. “It’s cold out here.”

You don't think you've ever felt warmer.

toge inumaki // fic recommendations

note: remember to read the tags! + i do not own any of these works

salmon!

dog-gone it.

intimacy is subjective

the sky, the sun, getting beat up by inumaki

bitter eclipse

puppy love

tongue-tied

be not afraid of my body

sweet dreams and other cursed demands

i leave you

come

our hands

the sun will rise again

1999

transatlanticism

my home is where your heart is

i know when you're around ('cause i know the sound of your heart)

let's talk.

nightmares

paper wings

pull me close

this love

secret admirer

favorite

muse

a coffeeshop phone call

crush

fillings for you

dynamight is clearly trying to go unnoticed in the grocery store, but you recognize him, anyway, despite the mask and low-pulled hat. knowing makes you feel even worse about approaching him—because you'd be too afraid to, otherwise—but you're not sure what else to do at this point.

you lean in close to him as he's standing in front of the produce, poking through the same bin.

"ooh, we need to get an onion, too, remember?"

he startles enough away from you that you can feel the foundation of your last ditch efforts crumbling. even beneath his hat, his light eyebrows pull down hard, gaze narrowing, and on the other end of such a fiery glare, you're reminded exactly why you've never wanted to meet him before: he's terrifying, handsome as he is.

"hah—"

you smile at him and hope it looks real, squishing into the space he's created even though your hands are shaking. "the guy by the juice followed me all around the store from the parking lot and i don't know what else to do." you widen your eyes, and you want to look, you do, but your facade is hanging on by a thread. "please help me."

dynamight swallows, and you hope his expression only seems so guarded because you're so close; enough to smell his subtle yet sharp cologne, to see the dark blonde wisps of his eyelashes. when he blinks, they brush against his mask, feather-light.

"okay," he nods once, and the gravel of his voice makes your stomach turn in some teenage way, that has your cheeks flaring.

(this is really not the time to be getting shy.)

he doesn't look towards the juice either, thankfully, and instead adjusts his stance, leaning into you in return, large and wide and formidable enough to nearly shield you from view. "an onion, huh? think we got one at home."

you can feel the warm press of his body against your own and it has you releasing a breath that had been trapped deep in your chest, has tears stinging behind your eyes. the sharp pain in your sternum lessens, and when you feel his hand come up to sit, carefully, against your lower back, dynamight murmurs,

"y'r alright,"

and you are.

HOT TO GO !

" I could be the one or your new addiction ! "

pairing : i. matsukawa x f!reader

content : smau, tinder au, everyone thank @sandwhitches for the brainrot of this idea, chappell roan is carrying this fic, college au, idiots to lovers, timeskipped characters, probably ooc/borderline crack

series content warning : MDNI, mostly sfw but hookup culture so, language, drinking, smoking, college party culture, no smut but allusions to and implications to sex/hooking up, suggestive as hell, crude humor [more will be added, check each chapter for warnings]

taglist : open , send an ASK!

introductions : arsonists and an idiot | go to hell mattsun one : swipe right! two : poetry three : pending message. . .