Milk-tea-and-memories - Your Reservations, Fuck 'em

"i find myself running home to your sweet nothings"

summary | it’s always a rough day for katsuki. hero rankings and PR nightmares every time he opens his mouth. but he gets to come home to you

pairing | bakugo katsuki x fem!reader

word count | 840

warning | soft!domestic katsuki, fluff.

a/n | this is very literally based off sweet nothings by taylor swift, so you can listen if you want the full experience. also, i haven't posted in two months, so i'm sorry if this sucks. <3

—

katsuki drops his bracers at the door with a heavy sigh. he's only just got his boots off and tucked in the corner, when he hears your voice calling him from the kitchen.

"'suki?"

he feels the smile pulling at his lips entirely unbidden.

the soft notes of that song that's been stuck in your head (and by extension, his) plays from the speaker in the corner.

"hey honey," you smile, leaning up to give him a kiss when he's in range.

he'll never be able to explain how that title makes his heart clench. he couldn't verbalize how every title he's obtained has not mattered until you gave him that one. pro-hero, number 2, explosive, dynamight.

your title feels so intimate on your lips, reducing him to the man who would fall at his knees for you.

not a pro-hero or number 2. not a ticking time bomb or a hot-head.

just your honey. your husband. yours, yours, yours.

"how was your day?" you ask, still stirring the pot as you turn the stove down.

"it was alright," he mumbles. in truth his day was rough, and he's not ready to talk about it, and he knows you can tell by the way you reach your free hand out to swipe your fingers along his cheek.

you smile up at him, pinching his cheek. "you wanna wash up? dinner's almost done." when he nods slowly, closing his eyes against the feelings of your fingers, you give him a little laugh.

in the bathroom, he works with the skin care products you left on his side of the counter, the dry winter air has been harsh on his quirk and his skin.

he thinks back to the agency, to the hero rankings, to the disapproving stares of civilians when he lets out loud curses and swears. the scolding he received from his manager today. the article comparing his pros and cons against the number 1 pro hero deku.

the water runs over his chest as he tilts his face into the stream, still trying to catch his breath from the incredibly long week he's had.

by the time he's toweled off and dressed in his sweats, the tension has worked it's way up into his back and across his shoulders.

"katsu?" your voice rings out and he's immediately following the sound back to the front door. he snorts when he sees you trying to push his bracers into the corner near his shoes. "how the hell do you put these things on for hours at a time? oh my god."

bakugo only laughs when he picks up both bracers with ease, your shocked gasp ringing out in the hallway.

"you're so strong, katsuki."

and that's it. your praise comes so easy. the fantastic feats that he performs still awe you. even something as simple as his above average strength elicits cheer from you.

it doesn't matter that he does it everyday, or that it's expected of him, you treat every act like it's the most incredible thing you've ever seen. and bakugo tries to fight the blush creeping up on his cheeks when you say these things.

even after all these years, he hasn't gotten used to your praise.

you're quickly setting a plate in front of him, taking the seat right next to him. recounting the events of your day, catching your boyfriend up on your workplace drama, and your recent purchases is enough to take you both through dinner.

by the time you've got him laid on the couch, your favorite candle is lit in the middle of the coffee table, and you two are talking softly.

his head rests on your chest, his ear pressed right over your heart. your fingers work softly against the ache in his shoulder, somehow finding the right spots to touch. these are nights when he needs you to take him down and you always do so with ease. he groans softly at the tender strength in your touch.

"i like the way you sound."

and there you go again. how do you split him open with a just a few words?

"its so pretty. especially when you talk, and when you laugh, i think that's my favorite sound."

you're calling him pretty. like his body isn't a fucking live wire ready to go off when he sweats. like the natural production of his glands don't cause explosions. like people aren't out there wondering if he should be a villain because of the force of his quirk.

of course the power thrumming through his veins is nothing compared to you. to the person he is when he's resting between your legs, letting you pet and coo at him until he's pliant and soft.

you bathe him in compliments, your adoration of him washes the shitty week off his skin and coats him in a thick layer of your love.

his prickly edges become rounded and soft against your gentle touch. refining him to be composed entirely of your sweet nothings.

—

Some summery wave studies! Inspired by Henry Wong’s gorgeous water studies that he did a few months back.

just wrote a whole ass megumi fic and tumblr decided to screw up at that exact moment and not process my post which led to me copying and pasting it I HAD THOUGHT into my notes and deleting the draft since it didn’t post BUT LITTLE DID I KNOW it disappeared and wouldn’t paste and now i HAVE NO MEGUMI FIC THATS LOST ME HOURS OF SLEEP and NO WAY OF GETTING IT BACK

A SIMPLIFIED VIEW OF BRAIN FUNCTION

i hate this country more than myself but watching christian pulisic’s sexy ass put his whole soccerussy into trying to score against england’s astronomically better football team is making me feel vaguely patriotic

“you’re the only one that makes me Powerless tonight”

“and you can devastate my personal space i never liked it anyway.”

synopsis// alone and lonely were two very different things. gojo was never alone but he was tired of being lonely, at least that was until you showed up.

pairing// satoru gojo x gn!reader

word count// 1.4k

contents// angsty gojo?, gojo never turns off his infinity and never lets people touch him in any context!, ooc gojo probably, angst in general if u squint

notes// yep you guessed it! a waterparks song did in fact inspire this! todays inspiration is powerless!!! wooooooo!!!

Gojo Satoru was by no means alone. Whether he was with the higher-ups or other sorcerers or with his students, he was always with someone, around someone. Gojo Satoru was by no means alone, but he was by every means lonely. There was always a wall between him and everyone, metaphorically and quite literally, considering his infinity. only one person had ever been able to get past it, and that was when he was in jujutsu high himself, only one person until you. 

Yaga had called Gojo in one day for what he thought was a meeting, but upon arriving, he was met with you, standing there in all your glory, hands clasped together as you smiled sweetly at Gojo, who could now actively feel his pulse quickening the longer he stared at you. 

“Gojo, meet L/N; they're a new teacher here. In fact, they'll be working with you and your first years," Yaga catches Gojo up as he begins walking toward you two.

“Hi! Nice to meet you,” you say happily as you offer your hand out to him for a handshake. 

Gojo catches himself about to shake your hand but stops himself before he can do so. That’s not Gojo; Gojo doesn't shake hands, and Gojo doesn’t turn off his infinity, so why was he about to? just for you? He clears his throat and smiles smugly. “Sorry, pretty. I don't shake hands.”

Your mouth forms a slight “o” shape as you retract your hand and go back to clasping it together with your other. “Sorry!” you apologize sincerely. 

Yaga quirks up an eyebrow at Gojo in question, having witnessed the whole interaction, and the only thing Gojo can do is flash his signature smile. 

Yaga sighs. “Right well, that’s all. They start tomorrow with you, Gojo. Get them informed on your class, yeah?” He says this before walking out of the room. 

“Nice to meet you!” You call out to Yaga, who is long gone at this point. “So Gojo, what’s our class like?”

Gojo catches himself smiling like an idiot at your use of “our.” He likes the sound of that; he likes it a lot, a little too much, actually.

“Just call me Satoru.”

Everything after that was history. Gojo and you had quickly taken to each other like no other, catching everyone by surprise. Mostly because Gojo hadn't let himself take to anyone since he was in Jujutsu High, so why should you be any different? Nobody knew why, and he certainly didn't know why either, which is what scared him; it’s what’s made him keep you at arm's length; it’s what’s made him keep the quite literal invisible wall between you two.

But none of that stopped you; you were still just as enticed by Gojo as was everybody else, but you were different. You didn't fall for him because he was Gojo, the strongest sorcerer; you fell for him because he was just Satoru to you; you saw him when he was see-through, and maybe that's exactly why he keeps you at arms length. Because being truly known scares Gojo, allowing someone to truly know him again is what keeps Gojo up at night, even if deep down that's all he really wants. 

It’s been about a year at this point of you and Gojo being friends that aren't just friends but also aren't together but also aren't not together. In simpler terms, it's been about a year at this point of you and Gojo being together without actually being together. This isn’t to say you haven't tried; you have, kind of. You’ve never wanted to push too hard, afraid that it would do more harm than good. You would try and plan dates with Gojo, telling him you’d make time for him and that you were waiting on his greenlight, but apparently his light was always red, occasionally yellow, but never green. never.

But now you’re sick of waiting for the right time. You're sick of not being pushy; you're sick of being whatever it is you are with Gojo; you’re either together or you're not. You need answers; you need to know if he needs you like you need him, which is how you found yourself at his front door at midnight. You find yourself hesitating to knock on his door but end up knocking anyway; you didn't come out all this way in the cold only to end up not knocking. After a few moments, you're still out in the cold, so you knock harder, only to end up knocking on Gojo, well—you would have had his infinity been off.

“Y/n?” he asks grogily. 

“Gojo,” you reply back flatly, nodding as a form of greeting.

Gojo’s face scrunches up in confusion and slight disgust at his last name coming from you as he moves out of the way to allow you in. 

“Did I do something?” he asks curiously as he watches you walk into his living room. 

“yes.. no! .. maybe? ugh, I don't know,” you respond vaguely as you stand in front of his couch and turn to look at him. 

Gojo now finds himself a few feet in front of you, every part of him aching to just hold you. “You don't know?” he asks quietly. 

you groan. “What are we, Gojo?”

Gojo winces at you using his last name again. “Can you stop calling me Gojo?”

You frown. “okay fine. What are we, Satoru?” You purposely draw out his first name as if to mock him. 

He matches your frown, his eyebrows scrunching together as he questions, “Where is this coming from?”

You scoff. “You can't even tell me!”

"Y/n no, I'm just confused," Gojo responds sheepishly. 

You sigh. “Satoru, I'm in love with you.”

Gojo goes wide-eyed; he had pretty much already known, but hearing you say it outright still takes him by surprise, and suddenly, with the way his pulse is quickening, he's taken back to the first time he met you. “Y/n-“

You don't give him a chance to speak, raising your finger at him as if telling him to shut up, and he does. “I am so in love with you, but I can’t keep doing whatever we’re doing, Satoru.”

“What are we doing?” he asks with a frown. 

“I don't know!” you exclaim. “That's the problem, Satoru! I need to know if you’re in because I have been in since the moment I met you, Satoru, so now it’s your turn. Do you love me, Satoru?”

Gojo bites the inside of his cheek, and his eyes are stinging; he might just actually cry. He inhales and exhales deeply. “Y/n, I love you so much that it scares me,” he whispers back because he thinks if he talks any louder, his voice will crack. 

Now it's your turn for your eyes to sting, along with your lips starting to tremble. Scratch that—every part of you is beginning to tremble as you watch him step closer to you. “Then prove it,” you reply meekly yet sternly. 

Gojo doesn’t say a word. The way he wants to prove it doesn't involve him speaking; it involves him wrapping you in his embrace, which is exactly what he does, and you go stiff at feeling him touch you for the first time. You blink a few times in disbelief before grabbing whatever part of him you can get your hands on—his back, shoulders, arms, neck, hair, face—everything and anything. You’re trying to memorize his body whole in case this is the first and only chance you’ll get to ever touch him.

He stifles a laugh at how your hands won't stay still on him, and he kisses your forehead, and the two of you stay like that for a few moments, his lips against your forehead, while you try to memorize Gojo whole. Eventually, you finally stop and wrap your arms around him just like his are around you; your heart is about to practically jump out of your chest with how hard it’s beating. 

Gojo is the first to break the silence. “So, I was thinking maybe we could get away? call it a date?” He mumbles against your forehead. 

“Is this real?” you ask breathlessly.

Gojo laughs as he pulls away slightly, arms still around you, in order to look at you face-to-face. “Of course this is real. Am I just that amazing that you can't believe I'm real?” he asks as a smirk tugs at his lips. 

Despite the grin on your face, you roll your eyes at him. "Oh, shut up! It's just... does this mean you're in?" You ask nervously. 

Gojo hums before he leans in and kisses you passionately, yet keeps it short and sweet by breaking the kiss just to mumble.

                                   “Yeah, i'm in.”

© LITTLEXBIMBO

Dragon fruit Plushie

i didn’t know if you’d care if i came back ｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

gojo satoru x reader | wc: 1k | L’s FOLKLORE event

“I can’t believe you.”

You’ve heard these words from him before, but not like this. They usually drip like honey from his silver tongue, with faux and teasing disbelief weaved in and around them. 

But right now, they sound cold, like a knife’s blade clinking against a glass table. He sounds hurt, you think, though you’re not sure what that sounds like coming from him. 

“Well, hello to you too, Gojo.”

“Don’t call me that,” he immediately heaves, as if your words burned him like a child touching a hot stove, “what is going on with you?” 

He stands a mere few feet away from you, but something far creakier than the wooden floorboards separates the space between the two of you, making it feel like lightyears rather than a few measly strides. 

His blindfold is off, it’s the first thing you notice. You can see his eyes—they’re just as beautiful as they were when you left, but something about them now appears weary. Slightly bloodshot, sulking into the bags that weigh beneath his eyelids, he looks exhausted. You can only imagine the headache pounding away behind his flesh. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you were back?” his question is desperate, almost as if he can’t believe he’s actually asking it to you right now. 

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