I Wanna Eat Him

milf (motivation i’d like to find)

Gojo " I wanna have a platoinc relationship with them , I wanna support them , I wanna be there for them , I wanna be their best friend, I wanna be the shoulder they would cry on, I want a spot in their heart , I won't allow for any one else in their heart , I will love them with all my being , I will hug them so tight daily, I wanna kiss them til they are melting, I wanna make sure they are safe with me , I wanna bite those cheeks , I want them to myself , I want me to be theirs and theirs only , I wanna them under me " satoru

request shit yall im bored and i gotta get my 2023 writer juices flowing before they freeze

think about your first time driving a car

shouldn't Palestinian children live to experience that?

think about your first kiss

shouldn't Palestinian children live to experience that?

think about your first time falling in love

shouldn't Palestinian children live to experience that?

think about your first sleepover

shouldn't Palestinian children live to experience that?

think about your first playdate

shouldn't Palestinian children live to experience that?

its always “wyd” and not “I'm in love with you, and I'm not in the business of denying myself the simple pleasure of saying true things. I'm in love with you, and I know that love is just a shout into the void, and that oblivion is inevitable, and that we're all doomed and that there will come a day when all our labor has been returned to dust, and I know the sun will swallow the only earth we'll ever have, and I am in love with you.”

wouldn't it be nice? - suna rintarou/f!reader (haikyuu!): fluff but suggestive at times, established relationship, talk of babies/families/pregnancy, committing to the bit is all fun and games until the bit commits to you, tw: light miscommunication since some of u guys hate that, let the record show this was NOT written for his birthday, i didn't even KNOW it was today ok, i will not be taking questions at this time (or ever)

You know exactly what started it.

The problem.

It was some sappy commercial you saw on TV one lazy Sunday afternoon.

You rarely even watch television—not proper cable television anyway—preferring the simplicity of streaming services in this modern day and age. It's a complete fluke that you happen across it at all while you and Rintarou rest sprawled across his couch in the afternoon sun, your feet tucked underneath his thigh. You wouldn't even go on to remember what the commercial was for; all you remember is the perfect, cherubic little baby at the centre of it, and the way that it made your heart melt.

You let out a long, wistful sigh once the advertisement transitions into the next. "I want to hold a baby."

It piques his interest. That stupid, completely unremarkable comment that you'd come soon to regret.

Rintarou pulls himself a little more upright at his end of the sofa, shooting you a mischievous look. His expression might seem placid to most people, impassive even, but you know it, and him, and all his minute eccentricities too well to be fooled.

"I'll give you a baby," he muses, angling his body over yours on the sofa with his arms caging your waist. You draw your legs back instinctively—hips perpendicular to your thighs and heels to the bottom of your bum—at the first sign of trouble.

Your lip curls, and you lift your sock-clad feet so they press flat against his chest, pushing him back with all the strength you can. He hardly budges, but you expect as much.

"Ew, Rin," you snort, head lolling to the side to idly watch the next useless commercial on TV as it unfolds, “gross."

Suna pauses, a hand loosely circling your ankle, and you glance at him from the corner of your eye. There's a look that you don't recognize that flitters across his face. His grip tightens a little, his thumb sweeping down over the round protrusion of your joint and back again.

"Gross?" he asks softly.

"Yeah, gross," you say, pulling your foot out of his hold. It takes a bit of effort, because he doesn’t seem to want to move, but you roll over onto your side and wiggle out from under him to rise up off the sofa. You shuffle into the kitchen for a snack, and you feel his eyes on you as you go.

But that was just the start.

You’re not sure if you just never noticed, or if the universe has a deeply perverse sense of cosmic humour, but after that Sunday afternoon, it seems like there are babies everywhere you go. 

And if not actual living, breathing babies, then it's all matter of things that are decidedly baby-adjacent. Itty bitty onesies on display at the store you two are shopping at. Sweet souvenir plushies at the Aquarium that are meant for little ones to hold. Diapers, formula, and various other baby necessities are advertised in the posters mounted on bus stops, on train stations platforms, and on flashing digital billboards. 

And every single time, without fail, you see them when you’re with Suna. 

And every single time, without fail, he looks at you and waits for you to meet his gaze. 

You’ve gotten pretty good at avoiding it, honestly. But then he’ll always make some comment. Point it out. Make it obvious.

“Look at that baby’s tiny hand. I bet our baby will have my hands.”

“Can you believe that babies are really this little? Do you think ours will be this small?” 

“If you were buying these for our baby would you get the yellow or the—“

“Trick question,” you cut Suna off, snagging the yellow pair of training chopsticks (complete with a little ducky on top) out from his hands and shoving them back onto the display he’d just plucked them off of. You don’t allow yourself to linger for too long on how cute they really are. “Babies don’t use chopsticks, and also we’re not having a baby.”

You continue down the aisle of the market, a familiar pain throbbing just behind your eyes that Rintarou seems so uniquely skilled at eliciting. Your face is hot too, but that’s probably just from the frustration. After a moment you hear his feet shuffling along after you, and the two of you finish your grocery shopping in relative silence.

You’re used to putting up with all of your boyfriend’s other annoyances and oddities, so this is just another one to add to the ever-growing list. But this time, something feels a bit… different. 

The two of you stop at a vending machine for coffee on your walk home since it’s cold out. Suna has the largest of your two reusable grocery bags looped over one of his arms, and somehow while you’re digging for change in your wallet he manages to weasel the other one off of your arm and onto his own, too. 

“There’s a coffee shop right around the corner, why are you stopping here?” he asks, watching as you carefully make your selection from the humming machine in front of you. You press the button of your choice, and a can of cafe au lait clunks down into the waiting chute below. 

“The metal can keeps my hands warmer,” you explain, sticking a few more yen into the machine and choosing Rintarou’s favourite, too. His choice makes the same descent yours had, and you crouch down to retrieve it for him, holding it out to him in offering as you stand. 

He blinks at you.

“Nah, I’m good,” he says, shaking his head a little. “Hands are full, anyway.”

You balk at him soundlessly for a moment. “Give the other bag back, then!”

“Nope,” he replies, making a point to enunciate it clearly in a way that you know he knows drives you crazy. He takes a step in the direction of your apartment, and you have no choice but to stick the can of coffee he’d declined into your coat pocket and chase after him.

It does a great job of keeping your hand—tucked into your pocket and wrapped around it—warm as you walk, though.

Nearly back at your apartment, your can of coffee drained and properly disposed of, a little ball of fluff waddles past you on the sidewalk, heading towards the entrance of a nearby park. You and Rintarou both pause, equally confused by what you’ve just spotted.

Behind the amorphous little thing is a couple, maybe a few years older than you two are, trailing not even a metre away. You watch as they coo and fawn over it as is wobbles unsteadily towards the open stretch of grass ahead. They call it pet-names, and try to convince it to turn around for mom and dad so they can take a picture.

Oh.

A baby.

Probably a little older than a baby given the whole… walking thing. But it’s still so tiny, even in its big, puffy coat, so they can’t be very old. The hood is pulled up over the child’s head, and you realize upon closer inspection that it has—

“Teddy-bear ears,” Rintarou says, cupping his fingers over his mouth and blowing warm air into his hands. “That’s so cute.”

“Yeah,” you say with a soft smile, watching as the child toddles along in their fluffy little teddy jacket.

Suna must have put the grocery bags down at his feet at some point when the two of you stopped walking, and when he pulls his hands back from his face, you see how the tip of his nose has gone pink from the cold. He dips down in front of you, his eyes narrowed, scrutinizing you up-close. 

“What?” you ask him nervously, a hand fluttering self consciously to your face. 

His breath leaves his mouth in wispy clouds as he tilts his head to the side. He’s so close that the warmth brushes against your lips like an airy, indirect kiss. You wonder if he can taste the coffee that clings to yours.

“What?” you repeat yourself again, a little more insistently this time. You reach up and pinch either of his cheeks between your thumbs and forefingers—stretching the pliable flesh outwards in an attempt to get him to back off a bit. His rosy cheeks are cool under your warm touch.

“Do you think we’d make a cute baby?” Rintarou asks, though the question is a little garbled thanks to your grip, and your stomach clenches involuntarily. His hands, and his frigid fingertips, reach up and rest over your own where you’re still pinching his cheeks—though your vice has eased slightly.

“You can barely even make an omelet,” you huff out as heat rises in your cheeks, pulling your hands out from under his and looking away. “Like I’d ever trust you to make a baby.”

“People make them all the time by accident, you know,” he remarks, rubbing at his stinging cheeks where you’d been pinching him. “I’m sure I could do it on purpose if I really set my mind to it.”

You dip down and grab the grocery bag he’d taken off your hands earlier, hiking it up onto your shoulder.

“Why are you so obsessed with this stupid baby joke?” you ask him exasperatedly, following it with a long, aggrieved sigh that you can see as you breathe it out.

He looks at you for a moment, his brow pinching in the middle. His nose is still so pink, and it makes the green in his eyes stand out more. 

You watch how Suna’s lips part, like he’s going to say something, but then they press together in a thin line again without uttering a word. He picks up his grocery bag with one hand and sets off in the direction of home, and this time you feel a little sheepish as you follow after him.

The apartment is quiet when you return home, and it stays that way as the two of you unpack the groceries in your kitchen side by side. You bought more than you usually would on a weekly grocery trip, all because Suna’s been staying over more than he usually does. But there’s a sudden frostiness that seems to have creeped in from outside, as if clinging to your coattails, and the chill has now settled between the two of you. 

It makes a strange sort of anxiety prickle under the surface of your skin, tender like a bruise. It makes you wonder if half of these groceries are going to go to waste.

“I’ll shower first,” Rintarou mutters without turning towards you after he puts the last pantry item away and closes the cabinet.

Stress sits heavy in the pit of your stomach when he doesn’t look at you. It’s intentional, you know it is. Suna’s favourite hobby is staring at you—he’s told you that himself many, many times. But he doesn’t even spare you a glance before he shuffles off towards your bedroom. 

You stand in silence in the kitchen, as though that weight in your gut keeps you anchored in place. You can hear the rustle of Rintarou’s clothes hitting the hamper. You hear the bathroom door close. You hear the spray of the shower turn on. 

You hear your heartbeat. Loud and wet in your ears.

You’re being ridiculous. You know that. You’re all worked up over nothing. 

This was all just some stupid joke that he was being annoying about in the first place. That he found every possible opportunity to bring up. 

You aren’t even sure what’s upset him so much; uncertain as to why you being annoyed about one of his blatant attempts to annoy you seems to have caused him offence.

You curl up on your sofa as Rintarou showers, picking at the fraying cuff of your hoodie as you similarly pull apart every second of your memory from the walk home from the market in an attempt to identify what could possibly have gone wrong. You’re thinking about the can of coffee—left sitting, unopened and room-temperature now, on your kitchen counter—when you hear the shower turn off.

The seconds tick by agonizingly slowly as you wait for your sullen boyfriend to emerge, but when he does he still seems resolved to avoid you. You wait on the sofa, your fingers stilled in the motion of fiddling with your sleeve, anticipating that he’ll come ask you to blow-dry his hair, just like he always does.

He doesn’t. 

The hairdryer clicks on in the other room, and the sound makes you feel sick. 

“Rin!” your voice leaves you involuntarily, without an ounce of conscious effort. You sound panicked.

The hairdryer clicks off immediately, and Rintarou appears in the doorway to your bedroom—half-dressed and hair half-dried—in an instant. His eyes are alight with concern.

Your hand had flown to your mouth as soon as you called out for him, too late to actually muffle the sound. But it stays there as you look at him with shocked, notably-guilty eyes.

“What’s wrong?” he asks you, eying you suspiciously.

“Nothing,” you murmur, your fingers still resting lightly over your lips, you avert your eyes. “It’s nothing, sorry.”

He hesitates in the doorway for a moment, and then turns to head back to the hairdryer.

“It’s just—“

He pauses when you speak again, one of his hands resting on the doorframe he’s lingering beneath—neither in nor fully out. 

“—you’re mad at me.”

You watch his shoulder blades as your words hang in the air between the two of you. The chill in your apartment, unlike it had been outside, is only proverbial—but you half expect to see wisps of vapour slipping out on the edge of your breaths.

“I can’t figure out what I did wrong.”

Suna looks at you over his shoulder, his already vulpine eyes narrowing a little further. Not in irritation, but consideration. For all the strangeness between the two of you today, you can still recognize that much in his expression. 

“I’m not mad at you,” he finally says, and you hate how relieved you feel at so few words. Hate even more how him turning back to face you makes the weight in your stomach lessen. That as he approaches you on the sofa you feel the air warm with every step.

Rintarou perches on the edge of your couch, a full cushion between the two of you as you sit there quietly. Both of his feet are on the ground, but yours are drawn up onto the sofa with you, facing him. Slowly your feet creep forward, slipping your toes under his sweat-pant clad thigh.

Suna’s head droops forward, and he lets out a breathy, wry laugh.

“What are your theories so far?” he asks quietly. 

Your head tilts to the side in confusion.

He peeks over at you, peering up at you from the corner of his eye.

“What do you think you might have done wrong?”

You hum quietly, pursing your lips slightly.

“Well, I… I thought maybe I got you the wrong coffee. I didn’t ask, but you always choose that one, so I just thought…”

Suna clicks his tongue.

“Nope.”

You huff a bit, staring at your hands in your lap. “Well… there was that baby at the park.”

You feel Suna’s eyes on you, but you’re suddenly too wary to meet them. He doesn’t tell you you’re wrong though, so you continue. 

“And I said you can’t make an omelet.”

He laughs a bit again, and you know that wasn’t it either.

“Are you upset because I said that I didn’t think you could make a baby?” you ask, peeking up at him. “Rin, I’m borderline militant about taking my birth control. I obviously don’t think you’re impo—“

Rintarou tips his head up a little further, meeting your gaze. Caught in his stare, it’s suddenly like your words die before you can get them off the tip of your tongue. Slowly, he reaches out towards you, taking one of your fidgeting hands and holding it in his. His touch is warm now, in contrast to what it had been at the park. He lifts your hand up to his mouth.

Delicately, he kisses your fingertips. His lips brush against the digits, over your knuckles and up to your palms. He presses your hand to his cheek and looks at you with the most pitiful gaze. It makes your chest ache. 

“I don’t like it when you say that,” he says reticently. And for all Rintarou’s height and weight and sheer breadth, he sounds so impossibly small.

“Say what?” you ask him, and your voice is quiet too. Vulnerable.

He leans his flushing cheek into your hand, holding it to his face and closing his eyes as he nuzzles into your touch.

“That you wouldn’t have my baby,” he whispers, “that you don’t want it.”

You resist the urge to pull away. It’s an instinct you can’t explain: a desire to keep him at a distance, to always laugh things off, to make a joke out of very real feelings. 

“Because I do.”

You blink.

Suna opens his eyes and looks at you, and for the first time you see the very real, very not joking pain in his eyes.

“I want that with you.”

Your mouth is dry and you’re frozen. You stare at him, completely still, stunned by his sincere confession.

“What?” you manage to squeak out. 

Rintarou closes his eyes again, breathing out a little sigh. He pulls your hand from his cheek, folding your fingers down so they’re hooked in a loose fist around his thumb. He brings your hand to his lips, not quite a kiss but close enough to call it that anyway. 

“Not right now,” he murmurs into your knuckles, lips brushing against you as he speaks the words. “But someday.”

You’re still so shocked that you don’t know how to respond. He peers at you, hand still held to his lips, his eyes more resolved than they are wounded now. 

“And I want you to want that. But I don’t know how to make you want it too.”

Your heartbeat thumps in your chest, resonant and palpable. Heat has crawled all the way up your face now, and you’re fairly certain your hand has gone clammy, but Rintatou passes no comment even if it has.

“Do you think you could?” he asks you quietly. Sheepishly. Earnestly. “Could you want that? With me?” 

You pitch yourself forward suddenly, and Rintarou lets out a little grunt of surprise as the two of you topple back into the sofa. You hide your burning face in the crook of his neck, that smells like your body wash and shampoo but somehow so much better, clutching onto him like your life depends on it. Suna seems shocked for a moment as he finds himself flat on his back with your weight on top of him, and his body is stiff as he processes it. After a few beats of your too-loud, too-telling heart pass, he finally eases. He wraps his arms around your waist and holds you tightly to him.

“You’re so stupid,” you grumble, your eyes squeezing shut tightly.

“Yeah,” he agrees, and you can hear the smile in his voice. The genuine laughter that’s hiding just behind the words. He hugs you a little tighter. “Probably.”

You stay like that for a while, basking in the warmth of Rintarou’s body and the rhythm of his breath.

“You love me though,” he says quietly, “so that reflects pretty badly on you.”

You lift your head to meet his gaze, and find him barely holding in a laugh. You can’t help but laugh with him. Can’t help but enjoy your favourite sound.

Rintarou scoops you up in his arms again, tugging you into his lap. He presses featherlight kisses to the corner of your jaw, and you fiddle with his long, lithe fingers. He sighs, but this time the sound is at ease. His damp hair tickles your face as he rests his forehead against your temple, nosing at your cheek.

“Hey, Rin?” you murmur as you run your thumb over the space between his first and second knuckle on his ring finger. You think about the kid you saw at the park in the fluffy jacket, and the besotted parents trailing along behind it.

He answers you with a content, if not slightly curious, hum. 

You turn your face towards him, and your noses brush. Rintarou’s lashes flutter as his gaze turns a little heavy-lidded. You can feel his breath on your lips, that’s how close he is. You inch forward until the space between you is almost completely gone.

And just before your lips meet, you smile.

“I do think we’ll make a cute baby.”

Ex husband Bakugo who knew marrying his high school sweetheart would just hold him back from his goal of being a top pro hero.

Ex husband Bakugou who would forget to separate personal and work life and bring home his anger and frustration from a days work.

Ex husband Bakugou who fights with you so often that he sees the light in your eyes vanishing every time he yells at you.

Ex husband Bakugou who somehow managed to hold onto what little love you have for him until he’s reached the top three heroes of Japan in just two years from graduating U.A..

Ex husband Bakugou who lets the fame get to his head and suddenly disappears from home for weeks at a time until one day he comes back to see you holding divorce papers.

Ex husband Bakugou who doesn’t realize how much he’s made you suffer since marrying him and reluctantly signs the papers after hearing your voice crack with each reason for wanting the divorce.

Ex husband Bakugou who watches you leave the day the divorce is finalized without another word, desperate pleads stuck in the back of his throat as you vanish from his life all together.

Ex husband Bakugou who goes on to do greater things but realizes too late that it’s lonely at the top, especially when the best person he’d ever had left him for his own negligence.

Ex husband Bakugou who calms down over time, becoming much more bearable and actually scoring someone who he could love for a bit.

Ex husband Bakugou who has the greatest little girl be born as his daughter and coddles her like a porcelain doll.

Ex husband Bakugou that walks in one day to see his woman beneath one of his sidekicks from his agency in their bed. His little girl wailing in the next room for food and a diaper change.

Ex husband Bakugou who’s thoroughly humiliated by the sight before him. His current wife berating him for spoiling her fun and calling his daughter a nuisance.

Ex husband Bakugou who divorces the woman and makes a deal with her, full custody of his daughter and she wouldn’t have to pay him anything, she happily agrees to those terms and vanishes forever.

Ex husband Bakugou who doesn’t waste his time loving another when he has his little girl to focus on. Dotes on her, is overprotective towards her, spoils her like a princess, she’s his everything now.

Ex husband Bakugou who, almost a decade later gets a call from his little girl while she’s in grade school, whispering into the phone that there’s an active shooter on campus.

Ex husband Bakugou, who despite his growing white hairs, rushes to his daughter’s school with the speed that could rival a jet.

Ex husband Bakugou who hears the screams of his daughter and the other children when the gunman breaks into the room and threaten them all with warning shots into the ceiling.

Ex husband Bakugou who rushes to his daughter’s classroom only to see the active shooter kicked into the wall by an ice covered leg he recognized all to well. The man somehow manages to stay conscious and reaches for the gun once he flattens out and drops to the floor, for good measure you swing your leg high above your head and come down hard on the man’s back knocking him out and creating a crater under him from the sheer force of your strength.

Ex husband Bakugou who calls out your name only receiving a glare as acknowledgement, you call out to the other teacher in the room to get her students out, with pleasure she does, counting each one as they pass by and orders them out to the field.

Ex husband Bakugou who notices that your skirt has torn apart at the sides to accommodate the moves that just saved his daughter, who is now crying into his stomach in relief that their all okay.

Ex husband Bakugou who sticks around until police have arrived to take the man in, they take him to the hospital to check his injuries and you’re left huffing and annoyed when a parent scolds you for your torn dress since it’s “inappropriate for a school teacher to look like that!”

Ex husband Bakugou who growls and barks at the woman that you’d just saved her kid from being shot, she flinches at his intimidating stature towering over her and leaves before she gets barked at again.

Ex husband Bakugou who’s little 11 year old daughter notices the way her papa looks at you, lovesick and sad, she likes that look on him and decides to be his Angel of influence.

Ex husband Bakugou who doesn’t know that his daughter is buttering you up so he can ask you on a date. “Hey Papa! Guess what (L/n)-sensei said she wants to go out dancing this weekend but she doesn’t have anyone to take her! You should go!”

Ex husband Bakugou who chokes and spits out his coffee to the news his daughter has suddenly acquired, she slips a piece of paper towards him before leaving to school with her friend. It’s your phone number that she just so happened to steal from her teacher’s contact book.

Ex husband Bakugou who takes the chance to be with you again and invites you out on a date, to his shock you actually say yes and on Friday night he leaves Kirishima and Mina in charge of his smiling little girl.

Ex husband Bakugou who finds you waiting for him at the club in a gorgeous little cocktail dress with laced sleeves and an open back, and simply can’t take his eyes off of you.

Ex husband Bakugou who immediately corrects you for degrading yourself for wearing something fit for someone “younger” and complements your matured form like you were the last Angel on earth.

Ex husband Bakugou who shares a couple of drinks with you at the bar, talking about life and how you’d both been doing since the divorce. You make fun of him for being such a sucker for his daughter but you see how happy the little girl makes him.

Ex husband Bakugou who confesses that he’s missed you so much and admits that he’s been lonely ever since his second divorce, you simply nod and confess that you’ve missed him too.

Ex husband Bakugo who drags you onto the dance floor to gently sway to your old wedding song, getting lost in your eyes as he whispers the words he failed to tell you back when you were still his.

Ex husband Bakugou who doesn’t even notice that he’s kissing you by the end of the song, the taste of your sweet fruity drink still lingering on your sweet colored lips. His eyes are closed shut and he focuses on the fact that you’re still as soft and beautiful as before.

Ex husband Bakugou who spends the whole night with you until you’re both stumbling into his penthouse home, singing and dancing and mocking each other like the good ol days.

Ex husband Bakugou who falls asleep with you in his arms smiling like a love drunk fool, for the first time in years he’s able to share a warm bed with the woman he loves and it feels so right.

Ex husband Bakugou who doesn’t just stop at one date, he takes you out several times before asking you to be his again and to his surprise you tell him yes.

Ex husband Bakugou who smiles when you meet his daughter officially, the little girl smiling with pure glee once she sees how happy you make her sour old Papa.

Ex husband Bakugou who now has a truly loving family with you and his little girl, despite your old age he’s completely bewitched by your kindness and beauty like you were fresh out of High School.

Ex husband Bakugou who now gets home cooked lunches and meals made by you despite being able to do them himself.

Ex husband Bakugou who gets you pregnant just two years after becoming his again, absolutely loses his mind seeing cute you are swollen with his kid.

Ex husband Bakugou who listens when you put him in his place for bringing work troubles home with him or correcting him when he forgets to make time for the family, he won’t make the same mistake twice.

Ex husband Bakugou who is absolutely over the moon when he finds out you’re pregnant with twins, his little girl is so excited by the news she’ll have two little babies that’ll idolize her!

Ex husband Bakugou who does everything in his power to come home to his two special girls every time he goes to work, even when he’s battered or bruised he makes it home to you both so you don’t stress and worry about him.

Ex husband Bakugou who has a happy family with you and will never take you for granted again.

well pee in a can and call me pie

ೀ*: ･ﾟrandom suna texts!

his playlist to you♡