All Mine｡°✩ Bakugou Katsuki

Masterlist ୨ৎ

is it normal for a tinder hookup to invite you to his birthday party? only one way to find out.

.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒

Glitter 𐔌 𐦯 : happy birthday Katsuki!! you guys voted for this on the poll (Sorry if you were expecting smut... but I cringe at myself attempting to write it so suggestive is all you get), enjoy!

Warnings : VERY SUGGESTIVNESS so minors beware (nothing explict but still), Female!Reader, modernAU, aged-up, drinking, mention of drugs, classic Bakugou warnings

W/C : 3k

.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊

[10:37 PM] B: you got plans tmrw

B is Bakugou Katsuki. The guy you've been enjoying lately. To say the least.

You met in the classic way—late-night Tinder, you feeling lonely and a little reckless. He had only one picture—a sharp jawline, messy blond hair, and not much else to go off. But he looked good. Really good. So, feeling lucky, you swiped right.

Match. Instantly.

He messaged first. You messaged back. Five minutes later, you were making plans to meet at a bar downtown. All you could hope for was that he wasn’t a catfish, and that getting dressed up wouldn’t be for nothing.

It definitely wasn’t.

You barely spent time at the bar. Most of the night was spent tangled up at your place. And that’s kind of how it went from there—he’d text, you’d text back. He’d come over, he’d leave. That was the thing. Sometimes you’d text first—on the nights you were feeling extra needy, craving hot hands and hungry lips.

You didn’t even know much about him. Just his name, his major, and the sounds he makes when he’s close. You didn’t think of him as much else. Didn’t let your mind drift into soft little daydreams about who he might be outside of your bedroom. What he was like with friends, what music he listened to, what kind of kid he was in high school.

Because Bakugou Katsuki didn’t seem like that kinda guy. There was nothing lovey-dovey about him. Just low curses and hard thrusts.

So this message? Felt different.

For one—you never made plans. That wasn’t how this thing worked.Just heat-of-the-moment, spur-of-the-night kind of energy.

And two—it wasn’t even his usual type of text. He didn’t ask. He told. Normally, it was a blunt little “im comin over”—not a question, but something close to a courtesy. A way of saying: I’m giving you the out, if you want it.

You scroll back at your texts these past few months and see the same pattern over and over, this one sticking out like a sore thumb from the rest.

[10:40 PM] You : idk.

[10:40 PM] You : why

Does he notice the difference, too? The pause in your rhythm. The hesitation. Why does it matter if he does?

[10:42 PM] B : im having a party tmrw

[10:42 PM] B : or my flatmate is

[10:42 PM] B : u should come

You stare at the screen for a second, not sure if you’re more confused or just… surprised. Not that it matters.

The read receipt doesn’t faze him. He doesn’t even wait for a response. Just sends the address, followed by a quick “starts at 7. let me know if ur coming and il order an uber.”

You don’t reply.

You don’t reply, because this isn’t part of the unspoken deal that you are familiar with. And maybe he just wants a pretty girl to stand near the drinks, someone to make the party pictures look good. Because Bakugou Katsuki is probably nothing more than an asshole. Probably.

~~~

Maybe curiosity really does kill the cat. Because somehow, you decide to go.

You never reply to him, leave him to conclude that the silence means no, you idiot, I only want you for one thing. But against your better judgement, you pull something skimpy on and brace yourself for what's to come, because you are curious.

You want to see where he lives. Who he likes. What he looks like when he’s out of his element. You want to see if it all matches the version you've been playing in your head. The version you’ve carefully constructed while you’ve kept things simple, kept it just about the physical.

But you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of thinking you’re actually going to show up. So, you leave him hanging, go radio silent, and step out at 10 PM. Plus a glass of wine or two before you leave—just enough to make the shyness a little easier to ignore.

The alcohol burns nice in your veins… for a bit, until you’re standing outside the apartment door and the cold air cuts right through you, sobering you up fast.

At least you know it’s the right address, because you can hear the light thumping of bass and loud voices from out here (Not Bakugou’s though, but what would he even sound like loud, all you know is the low rough murmurs as he-). No turning back now. Not because you feel good about this decision, but because it’s freezing and your dress is doing absolutely nothing. So, you knock. Lightly.

And no one answers. Obviously. It’s a party, and half the people inside are probably too drunk or too distracted to notice. And none of them know who the hell you are anyway, so it’s not like anyone’s waiting at the door.

You check the handle. It turns. It’s open.

So, you step inside.

And it hits—hard. Like sensory overload dialed to ten. The place is decked out top to bottom, barely recognizable as a regular apartment. Streamers, lights, drinks in every corner. And before you can even take it all in, your eyes land on the handmade banner slapped across the wall: Happy Birthday Katsuki!

You don’t even need to ask. A quick glance around says it all—loud and clear.

There are old photos strung up along the walls, clipped to fairy lights that flicker unevenly. Most of the pictures are clearly from childhood—blond hair, scowling even as a toddler, surrounded by messy frosting and crooked party hats. One’s shows him mid-scream, cake all over his face. It’s kind of cute. Kind of surreal. Because this is his party.

It’s Bakugou’s birthday.

And he invited you to his birthday party?

You scan the room again, sharper this time. The place is crowded, but not enough to lose someone like him. And he’s not here. That heavy, sinking feeling creeps into your chest.

Maybe he invited someone else.

Maybe when you didn’t text back, he moved on, picked another warm body to fill the space. It wouldn’t be crazy. It wouldn’t be wrong. You don’t owe each other anything, and that’s the whole point of this thing—or at least it was. But still, the thought lands heavy, makes something sour churn low in your gut. Makes your throat go tight in that way you hate.

You swallow it down, hard.

You’re already halfway through turning around, ready to slip back out before you embarrass yourself any further, when a voice cuts through the noise. One you don’t recognize, but it says your name like it knows you.

It’s coming from a big, beefy redhead, cheeks flushed pink from alcohol, smile wide and boyish like he’s genuinely thrilled to see you. There’s this urgent sparkle in his eyes, and for a second you’re stuck wondering how the hell does he know your name.

“You’re here! Oh my god, I can’t believe you’re actually here,” he laughs, loud and booming and way too happy.

Before you can say anything, he’s placing a warm, heavy hand on your shoulder, “Hey, let me take your jacket. I’m Kirishima, by the way! Don’t think we’ve met yet.”

And you just… let him. Because honestly, you can’t think of anything else to do. You shrug your jacket off, hand it over, and he somehow manages to wedge it onto an already overflowing coat rack like it’s no big deal.

“Katsuki is…” he glances around, squinting into the crowd, “—well, I think he already snuck off somewhere. Classic. Gets sick of his own birthday halfway through every year.”

He laughs again, easy and fond, like that’s something everyone should know. Like you’re part of the group that gets Bakugou Katsuki.

And when it’s clear you’re not going to laugh with him—that you’re not in on the joke—he shifts, scratching the back of his neck, the flush on his cheeks deepening.

“Let’s get you a drink, yeah? Before Katsuki finds out you’re here and steals you away.”

Then he’s already turning, guiding you through the tangle of bodies toward the kitchen. You follow, trying not to overthink that last part. Steals you away. Like you’re some prize Bakugou might casually claim.

Does everyone think you’re just a body to him? And would that really be so bad… if it meant he’d picked you?

Fuck you need that drink. You toss the first one back the second it’s in your hand—barely tastes like anything, just cold and sharp. Kirishima lets out a loud laugh, already reaching to pour you another like it’s a challenge. As he talks, he’s all bright chatter—rambling about how annoying the setup was, how they almost didn’t get enough booze. He asks when your birthday is like it’s just part of the conversation, like none of this is weird.

He’s mid-sentence when someone interrupts—a blond, all pretty eyes and glazed-over smile, leaning in over Kirishima’s shoulder like he’s got zero sense of personal space. Drunk, maybe high. Definitely nosy, not that Kirishima seems to mind anyway.

“Who’s the pretty girl, Ei?” he slurs, trying for a smirk that doesn’t quite land.

Kirishima just laughs, easily wrapping an arm around the guy to steady him. “This is Bakugou’s girl, bro. Back off.”

The blond seems as thrown by that as you are. Bakugou’s girl? Since when?

“Wait… I thought she wasn’t coming,” he frowns, looking a little too disappointed. “That’s why Bakubro was being extra mean to me today…”

You expect Kirishima to jump in with something. But instead, he just gives you this look—his brows raised slightly, an expectant glint in his eyes, like he's silently nudging you to explain yourself too.

“Oh, um…” You twist uncomfortably under their gazes, feeling the weight of the attention. “I didn’t think I’d be able to, but… I am here now, so…” You shrug, the words feeling clumsy even to you.

Kirishima just watches you, his expression blank, and you get the sense that he’s not exactly thrilled with your answer—or with your whole last-minute appearance. Blondie, on the other hand, pouts deeper, his voice laced with a hint of teasing frustration. “Well, I would’ve preferred if you came before the beer pong… He was so aggressive with it…”. Kirishima gives the guy a playful pat on the head in response, a silent gesture that seems to acknowledge the comment without words.

This whole interaction has you itching to find Bakugou, to see why everyone’s been expecting you, why his flatmate seems annoyed by your absence. And, of course, to catch a glimpse of his handsome face too. “Where’s the birthday boy? I haven’t been here before, so…”

At the mention of Bakugou, Kirishima’s energy shifts, his enthusiasm returning like flipping a switch. “Let me show you,” he says, peeling Denki off his shoulder with a gentle but firm hand. “Denks, drink some water, okay?” Kirishima adds, his tone casual but with a hint of concern, before turning back to you to lead you back through the crowd.

Eventually, Kirishima stops in front of a hallway door, turning back to give you a quick grin. “He’s probably hiding out in there,” he says, giving the door a casual knock. “Don’t be too shocked, though. He’s a little… cranky tonight.” He flashes you one last smile before turning and walking away, leaving you standing there at the door.

You push the door open, silently wishing you will either find him inside alone, or not at all.

The room is dimly lit, the faint glow of string lights hanging lazily in the corners, old posters covering the walls. The scent of cigarette smoke lingers in the air, mixing with the faint buzz of the party from down the hall. Your eyes scan the room, searching for him, and that's when you see him: Bakugou, slouched in a chair by the window, arms crossed over his chest.

He doesn’t seem to notice you at first, too caught up in his own world. You can’t help but watch him for a moment, noticing the tension in his shoulders, the way his jaw tightens slightly as he breathes in. You hesitate for a moment, but before you can second-guess yourself, his voice breaks the silence.

"Didn't think you'd actually show," he mutters, his gaze still locked on the window, his tone rougher than usual.

"You didn’t tell me it was your birthday," you say, unmoving from your place at the door.

He doesn’t respond right away, his silence thick in the air between you. The seconds stretch on, but then, slowly, he turns to face you. His brow furrows, lips curling into something between a frown and a smirk, but it’s his eyes that catch you off guard. They’re wide, not shy, but hungry, tracing your frame with an intensity that makes the space between you feel smaller than it is.

"Come closer," he demands, voice low, almost challenging. "I want a better look at you."

You hate how easily you obey, the words pulling you forward like a magnet. Until finally, you’re close enough that the air between you feels thick, charged. His legs caging your own as you stand between them.

He doesn't move, not yet, but you feel the weight of his gaze, steady and intense. And when his hands finally find your waist, it’s almost a relief. Almost. They tug you forward, pulling you down onto his lap with a quiet but unmistakable force.

You try to steady yourself, to regain control, but his grip tightens just enough to remind you who’s in charge here. You swallow hard, your pulse quickening at the feel of his body so close to yours.

"Is this how you like it?" His voice is rougher now, darker, a question more than anything else.

“You know how I like it.”

He lets out a dry chuckle, the sound rough. "Damn right," he mutters, his hands sliding through your hair, fingers pulling roughly at your scalp, forcing your eyes to meet his. You hold in the quiet noise already threatening to come out from the treatment.

"I was pissed when you didn’t reply," he says, his gaze burning into yours. “Told everyone my girl was coming, even helped Shitty hair with putting the decks up, got the good drinks too. But you didn’t show.”

His grip on your waist tightens, pulling you in just a little closer, the light scent of alcohol on his breath. "Do you always keep people waiting?" he asks, his voice rougher now, low and almost a growl. "Or was this just for me?"

You hate how his words vibrate through you, how you have to resist the temptation to press your legs together while spread out on his lap, refusing to let him feel the impact of his own words. “But what is it you want from me, Katsuki?” You breathe out, close enough now to see his eyes flash at the name change. “I thought this was just sex, and now you’re inviting me to your birthday party and getting pissy when I don’t show... Is meeting your friends part of the deal now, too?”

“You think this is just sex?” he says, voice rougher now, like he’s testing the words himself. “You think I don’t hate walking away every time? That I haven’t thought about just… staying? Not leaving for once. Keeping you.” A beat. “Keeping you as mine?”

Your breath catches.

“Katsuki… then why didn’t you just ask?” you whisper. “Instead of always running off.”

“Never the right fuckin’ time,” he mutters, his fingers brushing the side of your face, his touch unexpectedly gentle. “You were always either sleeping or too fucked out to hold a conversation. And you... you sure know how to make a guy nervous Angel.”

You blink. “I make you nervous?”

His hand moves to the back of your neck, his grip tightening just enough to pull you closer, “You think I do this often?” His laugh is low, a little dry, but there’s a sincerity to it that catches you off guard. “I downloaded Tinder as a fuckin’ joke. But when I saw your face... couldn’t resist. And the second I had you? Casual was never gonna work for me.”

The weight of his words settles in your chest. You can’t look away, not when he’s watching you like that, like he’s been starving for this moment.

“But hey,” he says, voice dipping low, almost a murmur now. “If you don’t want more, that’s fine. I’ll still give you what you need.” His thumb traces your lower lip, a delicate contrast to everything else about him. “But I want all of it, Angel. I want everything you’ll give me.”

You stare at him, your voice steady despite the heat flooding your veins. “You think I’d be here if you hadn’t caught me too?” you say quietly. “I don’t get this pretty for just anyone.”

His expression shifts. The hunger softens into something warmer, heavier. Something like possession. “You better not,” he says, almost reverently. “You’re mine now.”

And then his mouth is on yours.

Your lips crash together, like they have a million times before, and then he’s picking you up and caging you on the bed underneath you. He dives into your neck, his lips trailing fire across your skin, a low, satisfied groan vibrating from his chest as he kisses you like a man starved. You gasp, trying to hold onto the moment, but you can barely keep your thoughts straight.

You laugh, a little tipsy on him more than the alcohol now. “Katsuki, wait—” You reach up to gently tug at his hair, trying to pull him back. “There’s like a million people in your apartment.”

He barely registers the comment, his hands already at your waist, pulling you closer. “Don’t care,” he mutters, ripping off his shirt with frustration, exposing his toned chest as he leans down to kiss you again.

“I care,” you protest weakly, though the excitement burning in you is undeniable. “I just met them… I want to leave a good impression.”

His eyes darken, a smirk tugging at his lips as he stares down at you. “Fuck that,” he growls, his hands tracing the curves of your body possessively. “The only person you need to be good for is me.”

You roll your eyes, trying to bite back a grin. “Yeah, sure, but I’d prefer not to be that girl at your party—”

“Angel,” he interrupts, voice full of mischief, “I’m the birthday boy.”

His breath ghosts over your ear, sending a shiver straight down your spine.

“Now…” he murmurs, lips brushing your skin, “let me open my present.”

.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊

general taglist 🏷️ : @cristy-101 @cielito--lindo @waterfal-ling

જ⁀♡⊹｡° he got that boyish look that i like in a man ;)

♡ a/n — first bsd post in a longggg while!!! enjoy this drabble!

♡ word count — 571

♡ content — ranpo edogawa x gn! reader, secret relationship, fluff, not much else to say tbh, not proofread

♡ synopsis — Wrapped in golden sunlight and the shared knowledge of something no one else in the world knows...this is how you and ranpo edogawa like to spend your time.

Ranpo has his head in your lap again.

The blinds in the agency office are tilted just enough to let the late afternoon sunlight spill across the floor, warm and honey-colored. Everyone else has gone — Atsushi and Kunikida wrapped up their case earlier, and even Dazai made his usual theatrical exit an hour ago. You’d stayed behind to finish reports, and Ranpo…

Well, Ranpo had declared he was “on break from being brilliant.”

Which, in Ranpo terms, meant crawling into the couch, eating two lollipops, and then making himself comfortable with his head in your lap.

Your fingers move instinctively to his hair, brushing through the dark strands, careful not to dislodge his ever-present cap. He hums softly, not quite asleep, not quite awake, utterly content in that lazy, boyish way he always is when it's just the two of you.

“Someone’s going to walk in one day,” you say, voice low and amused. “You’re not exactly subtle.”

Ranpo’s eyes stay closed, but his lips curl into a smirk. “They won’t. I locked the door.”

You raise an eyebrow. “You locked the—Ranpo.”

“Relax,” he mumbles, patting your knee like you’re the one that’s overreacting. “They all think I went home. Besides… it’s more fun this way, right?”

You exhale through a small laugh, shaking your head. “You and your secrets.”

He peeks up at you, one green eye glittering with mischief. “You like it.”

And he’s not wrong.

There’s no real reason your relationship is a secret. It isn’t forbidden, or complicated, or shameful.

But there’s something intoxicating about having this quiet little world that belongs to only the two of you — something about the way his hand brushes yours in the hallway when no one’s looking, the way he’ll pass you notes folded into candy wrappers, or catch your eye in a meeting and wink like you’re sharing a joke no one else is in on.

It’s private.

It’s safe.

And it’s yours.

Ranpo stretches like a cat, limbs long and lazy. “You know, if I were anyone else, I’d get tired of hiding,” he muses. “But I’m the greatest detective in the world. I know how to cover my tracks.”

“Mm. Impressive.”

“And I know,” he adds, voice softening, “that you like keeping secrets.”

You glance down. He’s watching you now, gaze open and sharp despite how relaxed he looks. He’s infuriatingly perceptive sometimes, catching emotions you didn’t even realize you were feeling.

You wonder if he knows how your heart stutters when he looks at you like that — like you’re not just someone he likes, but someone he chooses, again and again.

Your fingers brush along his cheek. “You make it hard not to.”

His grin widens. “Because I’m cute?”

You laugh under your breath. “Because you’re you.”

It’s a simple answer, but it’s the truth.

You could list a thousand reasons: his genius, his ridiculous sweet tooth, the way he somehow always finds the softest parts of you without even trying.

But in the end, it’s just… him. All of him.

The boyish charm, the childlike laziness, the startling flashes of brilliance — you love it all.

Ranpo hums again, content. He pulls your hand into his, weaving your fingers together and resting them on his chest.

And for a little while, you both just stay like that.

Quiet.

Hidden.

Safe.

Wrapped in golden sunlight and the shared knowledge of something no one else in the world knows.

is the bsd fandom still alive?

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated

⋆.˚✮ 2025 ©airybcby ✮˚.⋆

366 notes View Post

katsukijo

1 month ago

Gojo who...

—comes back from a mission only to get spoiled rotten by you, and it only makes him fall deeper in love with you.

He’d come home at a random 2:43 in the afternoon. Opening the door with a tired grunt, before dropping everything in the living room and making a bee line for the bedroom.

Gojo stood in the doorway for a few seconds, watching as you organized all the shit on your dresser for the nth time since Gojo had left.

He just groaned and wrapped his arms around you from behind. Exhausted. His infinity down and his body completely melted against yours, almost as if trying to mold into you.

“Fuck,” he groaned against your neck, inhaling your scent— your scent that he hadn’t had around him for an entire seven and a half days. “missed you so much, pretty.”

You smiled, leaning against him. Your hands overlapped the tops of his as he wrapped his arms around your waist. “Welcome home, handsome.” Tilting your face to the side, you pressed a sweet kiss to his lips.

Slowly, and reluctantly letting go, Gojo finally pulled away and immediately began to strip his clothes off. His back was tense, rigid with knots. “Baby?”

He didn’t have to say anything else. Because once he was just in a pair of grey sweats, and laid stomach down on the bed, you were climbing up with him.

Standing on the bed, you used the wall to help balance as you stepped onto Gojo’s back. You took little steps up and down his back, smiling and giggling when he’d groan like one of those Great Danes relaxing.

And by the time you finished walking on his back, you were quick to move to the bathroom to run him a bath. You wanted to spoil your boyfriend after his week long mission, and by golly you would do just that.

Running the water till it was steaming, you stopped up the drain so the water would stay in the tub before getting your tired lover.

“Toru, come on. A bath will feel good,” he knew you were right. You always were, but damn he just wanted to sleep. However, he let you tug him off the bed and guide him into the bathroom. Wear he slowly sunk into the hot water, hissing at the initial burn before sighing in relief as his body relaxed. All the tension leaving his body, as the scent of lavender epson salt and a vanilla cupcake candle lighting up in the corner— his favorite Yankee candle scent.

And to add onto the billion reasons he’s head over heels for you— your hands immediately begin to gently massage his scalp. Your nails raking from his hair line to the back of his head. His eyes fluttered shut as he leaned back against your touch. “Love you so fucking much.” He mumbled, he couldn’t be more content and loved.

You smiled and leaned down, pressing a sweet kiss to his forehead. “Love you more. Now just relax and let me take care of you.”

Your pampering of him didn’t stop there. No no, you would be spoiling him rotten. Because not only did you bath him, wash his hair, and do his skin care for him, but you fixed him dinner, AND gave him those little chocolates he said he wanted before he’d left for the mission.

“I’m going to impregnate you and lock you away so your mine forever.” Gojo mumbled as he tiredly ate the chocolates, a happy, dopey smile on his lips.

“I’m sure you’d try.” You snort, a grin taking on your lips as you push his back with your fingers.

“Mm…” Gojo just hummed in delight. “When you were cooking, I called and said I’d be m.i.a for a few weeks.” Gojo blurted out, your nails on his scalp were his biggest weakness.

Your grin stretched to an ecstatic smile, “wait really?”

“Yeah, so that means I’ll have you all to myself.” Gojo opened his eyes again, locking them with yours as his smile turned to a shit eating grin. “Your mine ‘n mine alone for the next three and a half weeks. Better get ready, pretty.”

943 notes View Post

katsukijo

1 month ago

Best friend!Gojo always called you by cute lil’ nicknames - always. Everything from “pipsqueak” to “loser” to “sweetheart”, and if they made you all flustered then even better.

Best friend!Gojo doesn’t correct anyone who assumes you two are dating because of that- he would absolutely nod at the old lady at the supermarket who playfully told him it was rude to call his girlfriend a loser. “So true, ma’am, but my sweetheart is so cute when she gets mad at me so I simply must.”

Best friend!Gojo almost doesn’t even ask you out - he just calls you his one day. In the most casual, domestic setting - a little “can you pass me the napkin, my girl?” And that was that, you could be called any nickname in the world; but most importantly it was his.

2K notes View Post

katsukijo

1 month ago

𝜗𝜚 bakugou katsuki | random texts

❕sfw + nsfw, fluff, swear.

— this is my first texted submission and uhm so i hope it was okay. also if i could write katsuki in his character please tell me and i can continue.

────────────────────────

• your boyfie suki <33

────────────────────────

641 notes View Post

katsukijo

1 month ago

BUTTERFLY EFFECT ୨ৎ ryomen sukuna - satoru gojo.

YOU WOULD SLEEP WITH ME, IF YOU COULD DO IT COMFORTABLY — red bull's pit lane? total mayhem, especially with sukuna's temper constantly flaring. so, yeah, things got stressful. and, okay, hooking up with gojo, ferrari's golden boy, wasn't exactly the smartest way to unwind. but, honestly, one tiny slip-up at one tiny party? little did you know, the butterfly effect was inconceivable.

ᡣ𐭩 ferrari-racer!gojo x redbull-racer!sukuna x redbull-manager!reader.

warnings — inaccuracies. (so. many. inaccuracies. i apologize in advance for all of them, especially to the people who watch formula one.) polyamorous relationships. slow burn. angst. eventual smut. use of alcohol/drugs. specific content warnings will be added at the beginning of each chapter. again, the ending will be polyamorous.

(呪術廻戦) : note — layout ib: @nanamiskentos. whoops, spilled some ink, and started a new series. i was planning on making this a full-length piece, but that just would've been far too long. enjoy!

✦ track one. | damage control. ✦ track two. | soon! ✦ track three. | soon!

series taglist (27/50): @jeonwiixard, @paradisestarfishh, @seizecherry, @shinycrybaby, @n1vi, @gojosoups, @poopooindamouf, @susususukanana, @sukubusss, @beereadzzz, @mia-can-yap-too, @indiewritesxoxo, @yenayaps, @swoozleee, @monacipher, @chosos-prettyprincess, @hyori2, @aldebrana, @your-mum3000, @unabletonotlovesatoru, @kazuuhali, @river-vixenn, @daisy-01-blog, @linny-bloggs, @cosmotoic, @pousivuitton, @carnalcrows. ask to be added!

442 notes View Post

katsukijo

4 months ago

christmas eve

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katsukijo

1 week ago

Nerdjo!! he's such a cutie

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katsukijo

1 month ago

✿❀○ KUSURIYA NO HITORIGOTO E29 ❃ MAOMAO ○❀✿

✿❀○ KUSURIYA NO HITORIGOTO E29 ❃ MAOMAO ○❀✿

1K notes View Post

katsukijo

1 month ago

Not Just Anybody | baby daddy!sukuna x f!reader

summary: sukuna's been a father for over a month now and seems to be getting the hang of things, or at least he looks like he is. he's no stranger to mental turmoil and it seems to have only gotten worse for him when ever he finds himself alone.

genre: hidden child trope, toxic relationships, ex-fwb to co-parents to lovers, angst, fluff, smut

part two | part three | part four

notes: taglist is closed!!! also this isn't proofread, I'll be doing that right after posting bc im an impatient pos.

The first time you meet him is a blur. You just so happened to be staying at the same hotel that night— you were on your first business trip while he was away for the nth time for a game. You wanted to enjoy the last night of your trip and treated yourself to a drink at the hotel’s bar. It doesn’t take long until Sayomi’s father spots you, goes to sit obnoxiously close to you, and proceeds to ask you what you were drinking, even though he already knew what a martini was.

You’d think he couldn’t get any more cocky than he already is now, but that’s all what Sukuna was when he was 24 years old. He just couldn’t wait to tell you what he did for a living, and accused you of staring at his thighs to get that conversation rolling.

“I don’t mind you staring at ‘em, just means I’ve been training right.”

You didn’t ask him to elaborate on that like he thought you would, so he eventually just told you.

He also eventually convinced you to come back up to his hotel room with him, where he also couldn’t wait to show you how big his dick was and how good he could make you feel with it.

You really don’t remember much except for the way he kept pulling your hips back to meet each thrust and how that alone made you cum more times than you ever have in a single night. And the way he moaned— god it was sexy. So low, so smooth. He’d stare at you with half-lidded eyes, watching his cock split you open and disappear inside of you, in a complete trance over how you took every inch he gave you.

That was the night he realized he’d fuck you forever if he could, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel that way anymore.

It obviously didn’t last forever because that’s just not possible, but he did want your number. One could imagine his disappointment when he woke up the next morning and realized it was a fucking pillow that he had his leg thrown over, not the woman who’s guts he spent hours rearranging the night before.

Fate decided to do its thing though when he spots you on the same plane back home, where you happened to be sitting right next to him in first class.

No, you never met him in the bathroom for round 2. He tried, believe him, but he understood why you rejected him when he noticed you walking with a slight limp as you got off the plane. He did get your number though, which will always be worth so much more than just a quick fuck in a cramped bathroom of an airplane.

He especially feels that way whenever he looks at his little girl that he’s known for over a month now— should be 10 months, but it seems to be just him that’s counting with how normal everyone is about this.

Everyone except for the woman that’s been blowing up his phone, despite upping the number of date nights they have every week.

He’s been wondering what his 24 year old self would think about all of this.

Probably happy at first, after finding out the kid he has is with you, then confused after finding out you two weren’t together. Maybe even hurt after finding out how things ended.

“What did we even do to her?”

“I don’t fuckin’ know.”

He gets a knot in his stomach whenever he thinks about it long enough. This strange feeling of impending doom begins to wash over him, even when the worst has already happened. He’s constantly having to remind himself that he’s okay and everything will be fine, then he sees you and realizes that you’d slap his hand away if he ever tried to reach out to you.

Gone is the girl who’d happily lean into his touch— she literally vanished into thin air for him.

His phone vibrates after letting a call go to voicemail, and finally checks it.

Yor: Are you sure you can’t leave early? We’ve been wanting to go to the concert for a while now.

Sukuna: I really can’t, I already told you Yomi’s got an appointment. She’ll probably be in a bad ass mood after, you know how sensitive she is.

No, she doesn’t know, she’s never met the kid.

He didn’t specify what kind of an appointment it’d be, but he’s sure getting an ear piercing would be a worse experience than getting flu shots or whatever they give to babies.

Truth be told, he just doesn’t wanna be away from her. He spends more time at your house than he has at his own and will probably stay with you both up until her bedtime tonight—ingraining it into his daughter's head that he’ll be there for her every time she feels pain.

She won’t remember it, but it’ll become a subconscious thing. She’ll eventually just know that he’s someone she can go to if she’s not okay.

You two decided to go in the same car and meet your mom at the fancy piercing shop she suggested, more than ready to spend a fortune on her granddaughter's first pair of earrings.

“Are you excited, sweetie?” She turns to you and asks

“I’m just worried about how long she’ll be sore for.”

“Just give her some Tylenol.” Your mother simply says, waving off your concerns.

“Fuck, I should’ve called her pediatrician and asked if that was okay.”

“Honey, we used to line your gums with vodka whenever you were in pain from teething, a little bit of baby Tylenol isn’t going to hurt her.” Your mother reveals and Sukuna immediately steps away from her, to which she immediately scoffs at. “It was a different time, okay? I’m sure your parents did the same to you.”

He ignores her and turns to you, “call them and double check.”

He met your parents a couple weeks ago and so far it’s been good. Their relationship is very relaxed. You weren’t sure what to expect since it was you that decided to be a single mother, but they were pleasantly surprised to find out who exactly it was, with your father muttering “I fucking knew it” under his breath.

You ignored that comment.

They’re just glad their grandchild’s father isn’t a bum, which also confused them more as to why you did what you did.

“I kinda wanna get mine pierced with her.” Sukuna mentions while rubbing her little earlobe between his fingers.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. I feel like she’d cry less if she saw me getting it done first.” He explains his little last minute theory. There’s also no doubt in his mind that they’d look good on him, but that’s something he keeps to himself.

“Guess it won’t hurt for you to try.”

He turns to your mother with a shit eating grin. “You tryna buy me a pair of earrings too?”

“Never in my life would I do such a thing,” she laughs a little too hard. “We all know you could buy this whole store and it wouldn’t put the slightest dent in your pocket.”

“Rude.” He complains boyishly while looking at which diamond studs he wants. “It’s the thought that counts y’know.”

“I’ll try to keep that in mind during christmas time. Let’s hope I forget how much Google said your net worth was by then.” Your mother quips.

“Tch– whatever.” He clicks his tongue and chuckles, then turns to you. “Do you want anything?”

“No, I don’t see anything I like that I don’t already have. Thank you though.” You say after taking a brief look at what they had to offer. In the end you decided it’s probably best if he doesn’t buy you anything, even though there was a necklace in the corner of the glass display that you really liked.

One that he was more than capable of buying.

Soon enough, it’s you holding Yomi while you both wave at her father who’s sitting across from you too. For once, you find yourself appreciative of Sukuna and the lengths he is willing to go to in order to make your daughter's life slightly easier.

It was a smart idea, you could see why he thought that her seeing him getting it done would help the process.

Except when the gun goes off, she flinches and her eyes grow wide in horror as she sees the diamond stud that the little device left on his ear.

She started crying before the piercer got to Sukuna’s second ear and cried even harder when he actually got the second piercing. You both ultimately decided that today just wasn’t the day you’d get them done— you might not get them done ever given how traumatized the experience of just watching her dad getting piercings has left her.

The three of you were supposed to go out for lunch with your mother right after, but you also decided that it was best to go straight home. She’s having one of those meltdowns where it’s best to go home and put her to sleep, scheduling the appointment at noon probably wasn’t the best thing to do since it clashed with her nap time. At least she’ll sleep well, you know you do whenever you sob as hard as she is right now.

You ended up having to sit in the backseat to comfort her, which was fine until she decided that she was going to string out the tears, because getting attention from mommy is nice.

“oohuhuhu,” she whimpered in her little voice, it was so forced— barely any emotion behind it and Sukuna bursts out laughing because of it.

You end up having to look away too, not wanting her to think you were making fun of her. But it was already too late as tears started to well in her eyes again from feeling embarrassed.

Lately, it’s been him who’s been trying to coddle her whenever she’s in one of her moods. It actually works half the time— something that’s even surprised your parents when they came over the other week and watched him successfully calm her down.

Today’s not one of those days, she keeps turning around and looking at you— wanting for you to come get her. Sukuna tried turning around so she couldn’t see you and she just stuck her little hand out to the side of him, reaching out for help. At that point you started to feel bad and ended up taking her, not missing the slight pout on Sukuna’s face when you did.

“Sukuna.”

“Hm?”

“Can you look away?”

“Oh right, my bad.” He doesn’t mean it. You throw the baby blanket over you and let him know his eyes were free to roam again.

His eyes go straight to Yomi’s little feet that were sticking out of the blanket and joyously kicking around because she finally got what she wanted, once again reminding him how much of a brat she is. “Are you sure she didn’t get her attitude from you?”

“No, my parents said I was the easiest child ever.” You laugh at how in denial he is of being the one to pass down the ‘tude to her. “Even Jin said she gets it from you, you just didn’t hear him because you were too busy arguing with Yuji.”

“Don’t believe a word Jin says,” he says, taking a seat on the sofa across from the one you were sitting on. “He was a thousand times more sensitive than this one.”

“I’m sure.” You say and leave it at that. After hearing about their parents dying when they were just 18, you try not to talk about anything that would lead to a conversation about them. You’re only cautious about it since Sukuna’s never brought it up before. And aside from sharing a child together, you two just aren't that close.

“How long are you planning on breastfeeding her for?” He nods at Yomi when he asks, or your tits, you’re not sure anymore.

“I wanted to be done by the time she turns one, but that’s a month away and I just don’t see that happening.” You sigh, starting to get literal war flashbacks of when you tried to stop. “I tried weaning her off right before you came into the picture and I lost so much sleep that I started seeing shadow figures.”

“What the fuck?” His face twists in disbelief.

“Yeah.” You wish you were kidding, that was the worst week of your life. “She’d take her normal naps during the day, then she’d cry all night. I had to have my parents come help. I slept for like 16 hours and went back to breastfeeding her.”

“I can always watch her for the night if you wanna try to stop again.” He suggests, it doesn’t surprise you, he’s been like that one guy from the movie Holes.

I cAn hELp wiTh thAt.

Very sweet, but you can’t help but feel like he has an underlying motive sometimes.

“Maybe. I thought about trying again when she’s 18 months old.”

“You mean a year and a half?” He tries to correct you. He thinks he might actually lose it if you say she’s 24 months old when she turns 2.

“Same shit.” You roll your eyes at the man.

“Okay.” He says sarcastically. “The season starts again around that time though, so it’d probably be better if you do that before then.”

“Oh yeah huh?” He’s been around so much that you almost forgot that he travels half of the year.

He used to fly you out a lot when you two were messing around with each other. This was back when you had the energy to hop on a flight right after work on Fridays, then get ready for work at 3 am on monday so you could go straight from the airport to work.

You’d never do that for anyone, ever again. It was so much work now that you’re looking back. There was one point where you did that for nearly a month straight. You just had to stop, but by then he only had a couple weeks of the season left, so he didn’t seem to mind when you tapped out on him.

“Do you think you two can travel with me for a bit once the season starts?” He asks in a low tone, it’s almost as if he’s nervous to ask.

“I’m not sure. It's doable since I work from home, but it’s hard traveling with kids.” You hesitantly say. You don’t really travel all that much with her anyways, the thought of being far away from home almost makes you nervous.

“Well, think about it. Some of the guys on the team are married with children and they bring ‘em along for at least half the time. I’m sure accommodations can be made for you two, maybe even pay for a nanny if you need the help.”

“I will, I’ll let you know in a couple months or something.” You say, before you both are interrupted by his phone ringing again for the third time since you’ve gotten back to the house.

“You can take phone calls in front of me.” You let out a light laugh. He thinks you don’t know, but you are very aware of how much his girlfriend calls and texts him.

He lets out a deep sigh while looking at the phone screen, it ends up going to voicemail again, but at that point he’d rather not keep her waiting and calling and waiting and calling.

“It’s probably something important, so I’ll just take it outside.” He mutters before excusing himself and stepping into the backyard.

By that point, Sayomi’s fast asleep, so you end up sending Sukuna a little text letting him know you’re going to be in the nursery with her. You try not to think about the fact that you heard a couple yells coming out of the backyard as you walk up the stairs. You shut the door too so you don’t have to listen to him fighting with his girlfriend for like the hundredth time that week.

You set Yomi down in her crib and take a seat in the rocking chair next to it, letting out a little yawn and rubbing the day away from your eyes. Sucks that Sukuna had to take a phone call, you were just about to ask him if he could watch her while you take a little power nap, you don’t get to do much of that anymore.

Your own phone buzzes, but instead of a call, it’s a text from Suguru.

[11:05 a.m] Suguru G: How’s your morning going?

[01:11 p.m] Suguru G: Just remembered your daughter was getting her ears pierced today, just wanted to ask how it went!

[01:11 p.m] You: Oh my god I never even saw your text from this morning! Sorry about that. And she didn’t even get them pierced. Her dad thought it might’ve helped if she watched him get his ears pierced beforehand, but it ended up scaring her lol

[01:12 p.m] Suguru: LMAO

[01:12 p.m] Suguru: You guys traumatized her

[01:13 p.m] You: I know, I felt so bad! But I think she was just tired too, she woke up kind of early this morning.

[01:14 p.m] Suguru: Probably. Is everything okay now?

[01:14 p.m] You: Yeah, she’s finally taking a nap, she needed it lol

You hear a little knock at the door and Sukuna comes in right after, walking up to the crib. Except instead of looking at his daughter, he was looking at your phone in your hands— looking like he was about to ask who you were texting.

And he was extremely close to asking, mainly because he has a habit of starting more fights when he’s in a bad mood, but this time he practices some self control. He already knows it was fucking Suguru anyways and he’d rather not get into all of that when he’s already got other shit to deal with right now.

“I gotta go,” he whispers to you. His hairs slightly disheveled, looks like he’s been pulling on it or something. He leans over the crib and gives Yomi a couple forehead kisses before standing back up at full height. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Okay.” You whisper back and do a little wave before he gently closes the door.

Even with the door shut and him trying to keep his voice down, you can still hear him suddenly snap and say something along the lines of “I already said I was fuckin’ coming” after picking up the phone, again.

notes: i'm hoping you guys are enjoying the story so far!! seeing the theories and thoughts make me giggle and kick my feet like a little slut, i'm hoping to get back to them very soon!!

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katsukijo

2 months ago