More Dad!shouto Content To Cleanse My Soul.

Bakugou Katsuki, who absentmindedly starts touching you at random.

Like, you’ll be lounging on your bed, mindlessly scrolling through TikTok while Katsuki watches a game on TV, and suddenly, you feel his hands gently massaging your feet. And honestly, this man is incredible with his hands. (😉)

Or imagine this: you're standing in front of the mirror in your closet, calmly putting on your jewelry when he walks up from behind, already finished. His eyes lock onto yours, and before you know it, you feel his hands slide onto your hips. You smile as you feel him squeezing the softness of them, and jokingly push him back so you can grab your shoes. He still follows you around tho with his hands still firmly resting on your hips.

Or maybe you’re just lying on the couch with him, your head resting on his chest as you slowly drift off to sleep. You don’t remember when you fell asleep, but you wake up to the sound of Katsuki's phone as he scrolls through it, and the feeling of his hands gently cradling the back of your neck. His fingers slowly move upward, absentmindedly massaging your scalp and nape while he watches boxing matches.

Ugggghhhh, or what about when you’re cooking dinner for the two of you? You’re standing at the stove, switching between seasoning one pot and checking on another, when you hear Katsuki walk up behind you. He asks if you need help, but you shake your head and smile at him, reassuring him he can just relax. Instead of walking away, though, he sighs dramatically and leans his whole weight onto your back, his hands wrapping around your waist.

"Kats careful I'm gonna burn myself."

"My bad mama."

So, he leans back and rests his head on your shoulder, just watching you cook. His hands move up and down your arms, and whenever you shift to do something, he starts rubbing your side instead.

Katsuki has a degree in being touch-starved, and he doesn't even realise it. But you? You absolutely love it.

"kiss me."

"what-"

You're head shot up, eyes now focusing on the white-haired man in front of you, mouth agape and eyes taking in his sunkissed figure.

He leaned his head closer to you, head resting on his palm, his arm on your desk, observing your reaction with a subtle smug look on face.

"what?" furrowing your brows, looking down on him with a hint of disgust.

"You're beautiful."

You scoffed.

"No need for the flattery. I'm doing this so you can shut the fuck up during class." You ignored him and returned to explaining the physics lesson he asked you to tutor him with.

You complied to this silly situation because you figured this would be a way for him to finally stop poking your side and whispering dumb questions to you during classes.

It's been an hour of explaining, and Satorou Gojo seems to have been quiet the whole time. You were happy because you assumed he was really listening and understanding the topic.

Unbeknownst to you, he, instead, was listening to your soft voice, and how you kept trying to make yourself sound strict and scary by making your voice sound deeper, how you brush your hair when you're thinking, how your fingers fidget with your ballpen when you're impatient, how your eyebrows lift up when you're anticipating his answer to a question he didn't even process.

Satrou adored you. This stupid physics tutoring was just a pathetic excuse to spend more time with you.

He reached his hand out towards you, and brushed your hair away from your face.

Pupils dialated, heartbeat quickened, eyes yearning. You watched him be like that, entertained by the sight of him.

The lovestruck man uttered.

"You wanna grab coffee?"

"No, Gojo. I wanna go home."

Swatting his hand away, and bluntly shooting down his offer, closing your books and tidying your stuff. Yet the man still persists.

"But we haven't even finished studying yet, haven't we, sweetheart?"

He holds both of your hands, and fiddles them up and down, treating you like a baby.

"You weren't even listening to me, '"sweetheart." " mocking him, trying to detangle your hands from his big, slender ones, though, failing miserably.

"I soooo listened to you! "

Tightening his grip with you intertwined fingers, and motioning them in the air.

"Yeah? What's the speed of light in a vacuum?"

"..."

"The only thing that matters is the speed of my heartbeat when I'm with you. "

He shoots you a wink.

"Wait- where'ya goin? "

"I'll walk you home!!" Quickly grabbing his backpack and chasing you down the halls.

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

Satorou Gojo's plan Q has failed, but, no worries, he'll figure out more ways to make you fall for him. Today, he's just happy he got to be with you for an extra hour, and be able to walk you home... after chasing you down the road, of course.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Feel good?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You shake your head.

“Hell, baby. Hell.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“L-Love you, Kats.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You shut your eyes instinctively, “K—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

©️ hxltic

“take your kid to work” day

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

teacher teacher teacher i have a sad hokucanon about how, since hoku honey thinks sabo is dead, she makes little dolls of him with his clothes and stuff, and then leaves them in places with good views, especially of the sky or sea. she even makes an openable pocket in the back wear she writes short letters to him since she thinks. you know, that he’s dead. there’s at least one mini-sabo in every place she’s been,

ah, anon, you have good taste

If possible though, since Hoku isn’t the best with needles and things, I’d say that she instead draws/paints/graffitis his hat onto different places following what you said, where she thinks he’d like it the most. Places that remind her of being free because it’s what he wanted more than anything else. Then she’ll leave small memos behind in the cracks and places beside them with the written lines hoping he’s getting it from up there too.

. . . . .

“Hoku, what are you drawing over there?”

Hoku hummed, finishing up the little bit of black to the edge of his hat, making sure it finished nice and clean against the brick wall over looking the ocean’s harbor. Nami came to stand beside her, arms daintily full with her latest purchases with Sanji carrying the rest several feet behind.

“Hoku Honeyyyy! There you are!”

“Just finishing up here,” Hoku said. She pulled a small paper from her pocket, slipping it into the cracks of the brick wall. She pressed her fingers to her lips and then to her heart and then placed it onto the painted hat, offering it a small smile before she sat back up.

“Did you find anything good?” Hoku said, tucking her brush behind her ear. Nami reached out, tucking some of Hoku’s hair behind that and giving her a bit of a thoughtful look before she simply smiled.

“Plenty. I’ll tell you all about how I bartered with the cashier,” Nami slung her arm through hers and Hoku didn’t complain, letting her pull her along as Sanji sang praises behind them. “I even picked some things out for you for the right price.”

“Well, I gotta like them first before I pay.”

“Well, you’ll just have to try them on first then, won’t you?”

Hoku grinned carelessly while Nami offered her a cheeky smirk in return, tugging Hoku closer to her side.

A small black top hat sat in the corner of the brick wall, painted in permanently overlooking the sea. A pair of goggles etched around its brim. Unhindered by anything else.

Free as a bird.

Ahhh, student!Satoru, who's leaning into the palm of his hand, mouth concealed behind his pale hand, eyes stuck on you. And they've been stuck on you ever since he saw you first walk up the steps into Jujutsu Tech. Bright blue. Heart quivering. Fixed gaze.

He takes any excuse to be near you, even though he knows that you're annoyed by him — he's so cocky and full of himself. But don't you see that he's also just a lovesick boy? Look at the way he follows after you down the halls, long striding legs effortlessly meeting your quick pace.

You're just trying to get a cold soda from the vending machine after a long two hours of practicing martial arts with Satoru, Suguru and Shoko. And since Shoko promptly left with Suguru for a cigarette break, that left an overjoyed Satoru alone with you.

"Which flavor do you usually get?" he asks, grasping at any conversation starter he can think of. He just wants to talk to you, even if it's about something so dumb... even if it's while stood next to a vending machine.

"Uh, strawberry... it's my favorite."

He takes a mental note of that.

He's always trying to get your attention, even if he has to become a fool in order to earn a glance from you. Walking away, looking dumb, even his best friend shakes his head at him and tells him that he's way too downbad for a girl that doesn't even like him back.

But Satoru doesn't listen to anyone when they say that you don't like him back. He knows the chemistry is there, as awkward as it may be sometimes. He knows there's something connecting him and you, like an invisible thread.

He still brings you gifts on V-day. He still pesters you in class. He still shares one earbud with you on train rides. He still gets that accelerated heart beat when you so much as graze your hand over his while walking side-by-side.

So eagerly looking at your lips, Satoru pulls out lip balm and makes eye contact with you while applying it. He's always got chapped lips, he knows because someone made exactly 1 comment about it and now he's never forgotten to put a lip balm in his pocket.

"Whatchya starin' at my lips for? You wanna have a taste of strawberry?" he winks, puckering his kissable lips at you.

"Ough..." you cringe at him, "Satoru, it's no wonder you're single."

Okay, he has zero flirting skills. But he earns a smile out of you right then, so even if he's cringe, he's surely doing something right. Are the cogs turning in your head? Do you think he's cute? Do you want to kiss him should he lean into a kiss oh he's leaning into a kiss now aaand he nearly falls flat on his face, because you didn't notice that he was leaning in for a kiss and now he just has to play it off and look like a dumbass once again.

His feelings grow exponentially as the years pass.

You're always catching him staring and he doesn't even feel ashamed.

Though it's been on his mind all the time, it's not until after three years of knowing you that Satoru kisses you.

It happens one day during heavy rainfall. He runs to you with a grin, no umbrella, totally soaked, and like a bright-eyed bunny he bounces at your side.

He's unzipping his uniform jacket, hanging it over the two of you. The proximity has his heart thumping. Before he knows it, he's leaning down to kiss you, right there as the two of you are concealed from the world in your own little bubble — in reality, everyone knows that you two are liplocking under Satoru's jacket. Duh. His shoes click on the ground as he repositions himself, bending his knees and arching down to meet your lips, 'till his spine gets angry at him for falling for a short girl.

This isn’t the first time Iwaizumi’s heard the team talking about you.

“Just seems ta not wanna be here an’ doesn’t even like us…” Miya reflects after practice as Bokuto fervently nods. “Never comes out with us, even ta eat…”

Kageyama grumbles “doesn’t stay late when we’re doing extra practice.”

“Hasn’t shared any social media with us,” Hoshiumi adds.

He thinks about it a lot, what the guys said.

What they’ve been saying.

You’re a different kind of manager than most of them have had and from the outside it would seem like you’re not particularly invested in the job, in the team.

Everything the guys say is true.

You’re not overly enthusiastic, you don’t spend any time with anyone on the team outside of practice, you don’t show up early and don’t stay late, no one’s been able to find you on social media, and no one’s been given your cellphone number. You have a work phone through which they can reach you but it’s not yours.

And then they find out.

“Completely makes sense now…Uncle Hibarida’s the one we hafta thank fer our manager,” Miya complains. “A bit’a nepotism an’ we’re denied a key asset.”

There’s a round of shared sentiments and you’re suddenly even more out-of-the loop than before.

Iwaizumi hates that he’s starting to feel the same way. “I just…I’m trying to understand the hiring decision…” he offers after asking Hibarida about you and why you’re so…apathetic.

The coach measures Iwaizumi with a look but he doesn’t offer an explanation; he just pats Iwaizumi on the shoulder and walks away. Without a satisfying explanation, or any explanation at all, Iwaizumi wonders if you’re going to make it as their manager.

   Suna’s off his game.

He knows it and he’s doing everything he can but it’s not working. No matter how much extra time he puts in on the court or in the weight room he just can’t get out of this slump and he’s internally panicking that he’s going to get benched.

When practice gets out he feels lost. Everyone’s got a place to be and he lingers in the locker room, dragging his feet to go home wondering if he should stay and keep trying.

“Suna?”

He’s surprised that you of all people call him out of the locker room. “Yeah?”

You search his expression for a long moment and deeply inhale, like you’re hyping yourself up to face a big obstacle. “Come on.”

“Huh?” His expression scrunches up. “Where?”

“Conbini.” You’re almost frowning.

“Ookaay…” Suna awkwardly tags along curious and confused as to what’s happening. You don’t try to make any small talk along the way and when you lead him to the candy section you just stop and point to the “chuupets?”

You nod inscrutably. “They’re your favorite, right?”

His narrow eyes flick to you, taken aback. “Yeah…so?”

“So,” you sternly reply, “pick some out. My treat.”

“But…why?” His eyes narrow even more at you. “We’re not even allowed to have treats. Iwaizumi’s gonna flip.”

You cross your arms. “If he has a problem with it, he can take it up with me.” When Suna doesn’t make any move your arms fall back to your sides. “Okay, look…I know we’re not…friends…but I do care. You’ve been having a hard time recently and need a…well…I don’t know,” you admit self-consciously and shift your weight. “I just thought…” You sigh in defeat. “Let’s just forget this…Sorry.”

You step past him to leave-

“Green Apple.”

You freeze.

He tentatively picks up a package, avoiding your gaze.

“When I was little my favorite flavor was green apple…” the plastic crinkles in his hand. “I don’t like it anymore…Hate it, actually…But sometimes I eat it anyway…just to see if I can feel all those good things about being a kid again.”

“What’s your favorite now?” you ask quietly, looking at the assortments with him.

“Pineapple.”

“Then we’ll get both,” you offer without hesitation and take the biggest variety pack, the only one with both flavors and bring it to the counter.

Suna’s still by the candy section when you’re done paying.

“You coming?” you call. Though he gives you a mystified look, he nods and follows.

       Iwaizumi’s on the bus when he sees you and Suna sitting on a bench together. He only has a glimpse as the bus drives by–are those candy wrappers between you?! There’s no doubt candy isn’t allowed on the diet plan but for the first time the two of you are smiling and the next day at practice Suna’s in top form.

He doesn’t bring it up but ever so slightly

something shifts.

    Bokuto’s next.

The owl disappears during practice one day after a hearty round of laughter that wasn’t necessarily directed at him but it was definitely because of him.

“He’s done this since high school,” laments Yaku.

Miya sighs “he’s a sensitive boy.”

From the corner of his eye Iwaizumi sees you slip out of the gym while the others debate sending someone to find him.

“Seriously,” Yaku assures them, “he’ll hide somewhere for a little while and come moping back around.”

“You guys keep practicing. I’ll take a look,” Iwaizumi offers to a round of gratitude. 

He doesn’t have to wander far until he hears your low voice.

“Is that better?”

“Yeah.” Bokuto sounds unnaturally small. Iwaizumi stays out-of-sight, waiting for something else to happen but Bokuto asks “what are you doing?”

“Keeping you company,” you simply reply.

“But…why?”

Iwaizumi imagines–tries to imagine–you shrugging your shoulders. “I don’t like being alone when I’m upset…” You consider something for a long moment. “It’s hard…because usually people want to do something…like they can fix it…When all I really want is to not be alone.”

You’re both quiet for a while before Bokuto softly admits “usually everyone just tells me to cheer up.” You wait quietly as he adds “but it just makes me feel worse…I just want to be sad!” 

“Sometimes people can’t handle seeing someone act in a way that doesn’t fit the person they think they are.”

“Huh?”

Iwaizumi smirks at Bokuto’s confusion but there’s no trace of humor in your response, only patience as you rephrase it. “Everyone sees you as the ball-of-energy Bokuto. And they’re too fragile to understand you get sad, too. You have every right to your feelings Bokuto for however long you need to feel them.”

Iwaizumi’s heart aches when he hears the emotion in Bokuto’s voice. “Thank you.”

    After that it’s Kageyama who’s having trouble with his nails and nail file. Iwaizumi catches a glimpse of you giving him something after practice and the next day Kageyama’s meticulously caring for his nails with a glass-crystal file.

Then Sakusa who states displeasure about the lack of hand sanitation throughout the facility and finds new stations set up a few days later.

Ushijima who stares at his phone for a long time until you sit with him and help write a reply to something.

Finally Kiryu who goes out for a run after practice. Iwaizumi doesn’t think anything of it until you dash out; he follows and gets to the lobby in time to see you speeding off on a bike after Kiryu. On his way home he catches sight of you, the two of you, sitting on the same bench you shared with Suna as you listen intently, patiently to the over-thinker who’s clearly venting. 

It becomes clear that you care for them, just in your own way.

Sure you don’t stay late or arrive early every time one of them does but there are too many monsters to keep up with and if you tried, you’d never leave. So you’re not here extra but when you’re here, you’re here. You’re not the out-going or bubbly manager many of them are used to but you go above-and-beyond for them.

It’s clear you want to be here as much as they do.

So when they have their first press conference of the Olympics and someone from the crowd insults the vertically challenged members of your team?

You have to be contained.

With walls of muscle like Ushijima, Ojiro, and Hyakuzawa, it’s laughably easy for the team to hold you back. It doesn’t stop you from spitting venomous challenges for the coward to show themselves so you can properly insult them back, though,

“Seriously? You think that was bad?” Hoshiumi comments. “Do you even see what people say on twitter?” 

“No, I don’t have one,” you reply. “What do they say?”

In his shock he misses your question. “You don’t have one? What do you have, then? Instagram?”

“No.”

“Tik Tok? Facebook? Discord? Tumblr?” He gags “myspace?”

You laugh “no! I don’t use any social media.” A moment of realization comes over you and you ask “wait…what do to they say about you guys on those sites?”

If there was any doubt left in how you felt about the team, it’s gone after your reaction.

“I was wrong about ya,” Miya admits as the team moves into the dorms for the Olympics and he sees the special attention given to everyone’s needs, put into the specific accommodations for each athlete. “Fer a grumpy little scrub…yer a good manager.”

Iwaizumi sees the small and private but glowing smile as the setter walks away.

In the way you defend them from negativity, intervene when reporters are being unprofessional or fans too intense, and support them from start to finish more than anyone else, you’re their champion.

Their heart and soul.

bakugou being a dad who’s completely smitten with his babygirl…. LORDDDDDDD GIMME STRENGTH

the day satoru gojo finds out that megumi, his sweet little megumi, is dating you, he goes down on his knees and starts crying, head in hands with his blindfold thrown to the side. he has this whole fit that only further embarrasses fushiguro to the point where he kinda regrets introducing you to the sorcerer. megumis right eye twitches as gojo grabs him by his shoulders and shakes him back and forth with tears shining in his eyes, pinching his cheeks as he babbles words neither of you can understand, acting like a desperate parent who is just over the moon for his son to finally be dating someone. “thank you for choosing megumi !” he sobs out to you, poking his head out to the side from your boyfriends shoulder to show his red, puffy eyes before snapping his head back to face megs, staring him down to the bone with an attempt of making a serious face. “if you guys break up i might lose my fucking shit.”

everlasting.

new dad!katsuki bakugo x fem reader.

a/n: aaaAH! i know i might have mistyped his personality a little bit but i got so excited.

despite the pain you were in, this was heaven. it was a dream come true when you saw your husband holding your little baby, when he carried her carseat out, and how tender he was with her.

she was perfect. she had the prettiest blonde hair, thick and curly which hadn't been expected. your eyes were practically glued to her during the hospital stay. though katsuki already kicked in protectiveness into gear, not allowing her to leave the room unless he accompanied them. he's heard too many stories about babies being switched or just taken.

it was a week after and you two were so, very confused. she had slept through every. single. night. without an issue. the doctor you guys had visited to check on both you and her found nothing to be wrong. she was perfectly healthy, she just found her perfect rhythm. of course you had to make a bottle up and feed her every few hours, though not being extremely sleep deprived was really beneficial.

katsuki took wonderful care of both you and hayami. he was terribly stubborn in everything, especially with you getting up. he wanted to make sure you were as comfortable as you could be. he would pick you up half the time you needed anything, grumbling something about 'don't be an idiot'.

some of your favorite moments of the day are when the three of you woke up a little earlier than normal. it had been cloudy the past 3 days so you guys would spend the morning outside. this morning was no different.

katsuki had brought out a cup of tea and a bottle for hayami, quickly going inside to grab what remained. he returned with two plates of food, the smell absolutely divine. he set them on the table infront of you, motioning to give him the baby. with a small rag settled against his shoulder, he sat down carefully with the little one in his hands.

"eat before it gets cold, baby." he mumbled, giving you a look before his attention shifted. he looked down at the small baby nestled in the crook of his arm, nothing but love in his eyes.

he grabbed the bottle, giving it a quick shake before angling it into her mouth. once she took to it, he nodded and hummed.

"look, great eater like her mama." he said proudly, nodding at your already half eaten plate. he chuckled as you swatted a hand at him, knowing he was right.

"she gets it from you too. you cook great and eat just as good." you hummed, trying to defend yourself playfully. he simply rolled his eyes at you and focused back on the baby.

once the little one had finished, he held her again his chest, patting her back gently. as he did this, he leaned forward slightly, looking between you and his food. you got the idea as you started to feed him, quiet thanks coming through each bite.

eventually everybody had eaten, katsuki holding your hand as he leaned back. he held hayami against his chest, his right hand settled on her back. she slept peacefully as you two talked quietly. the sight before you was one the would be everlasting.