Daizzzy

cat hybrid!gojo x female owner!reader

⋮⋮ fluff ⋮⋮ cat hybrid au ⋮⋮ jealous catoru ⋮⋮ sweeeeeet! ⋮⋮ scenting ⋮⋮

more hybrid aus?

The door clicks shut behind you. Your feet halt for a second as you drop your bag from your sore shoulder and bend down to rid yourself of you shoes.

"Im back!" You call, dragging the bag by its straps, tossing it aside in the livingroom.

Looking up, youre met with an unhappy looking satoru, his tail thumping softly against the couch. Back and forth, it swings. Slow and controlled, one might mistake it for calmness were he not to wear that scowl on his face, his arms crossed over his chest.

You tilt your head at him, eyebrows bunching up a little at the inner corners. "Did i forget to buy you your favorite snacks?" Your tone goes up at the end as you try to guess why hes looking at you like you just insulted his favorite monkey plush.

"No. Worse" he uncrosses his arms, pressing his palms into the couch cushions underneath him. Leaning forward, with his head tipped slightly back, his eyes land on yours and hold.

"I...." you guess again "i forgot to wash your favorite blanket?" You step slowly closer, till youre standing right infront of him - between his spread legs.

"No, that i can do myself. You know that" your pampered and spoiled cat hybird isnt immune to chores, it seems. Hes grown more usefull around the house than just a warm, fluffy blanket of some sorts youve grown to adore.

"Then...?"

Satoru sucks in a deep, long, breath, his eyes closing for a moment as he leans back into the couch. "You really think you could play with an outdoor dirty cat on the street and fool all my six senses?" His eyes land back on yours, darker than what they were a few seconds ago.

"Come on, thats insulting" he pushes the words out like a heavy breath before his expression morphs into something more pouty - more like the usual toru.

"Was he cuter than me?" The 'you have a cat at home' speach is braught back up to the surface once again. His eyes are screaming 'you cheater :('

"Toru" you drag out, leaning your face closer to his, eyes glued to his bright ones. "Are you seriously comparing yourself with the neighbours kitten?"

The way his buttom lip juts out a little more than before has your heart squeezing. His droopy eyes arent helping your case either.

Hes serious. And hurt :(

Slowly, you gently rake your fingers through the sides of his hair, letting your fingers travel down to the soft hairs at his nape. "I favor my big, outgrown cat over any other house cat"

you lean closer, pressing your nose into the warmth of his neck, feeling him exhale a shuddering breath thats been coiling up inside of him since you stepped in with someone elses scent on you.

"O-oh?" He whispers, half broken as you stay this close to him. "If so, then stay close to me till i tell you otherwise" his hands snake around your waist, pulling you gently in. Propped up onto his lap with your knees on each side of him, he wastes no time to rub his face into your neck, his soft ears twitches, tickeling your skin there.

Giggling, you tilt your head the other way, giving him more access. "We both know youd never actually tell me to get off of you, let alone let me."

He hums into your warm skin, his lips pressing a small, slow kiss to that soft, warm, sensitive spot right underneath your ear - savouring and sealing it as his.

As if to further prove your point, his warm, fluffy tail wraps around one of your calfs on each side of him, hugging tight.

"Mhmm" he nuzzles the side of your head with his. "I need my scent back on you" one of his hands secured around your waist travels up to gently move your hair out of the way - gentle as ever.

Youre left sitting there, perched comfortably onto his lap, your thighs hugging his sides - held close by his warm, large hands on your waist and equally warm tail swiping up your leg.

Youre melting into him as he keeps 'cleaning up your crime'. All warm and giddy, fitting together like puzzle pieces.

what color does catoru radiate in vibe in your opinion?

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

Trueform!sukuna, who asks you, a sorcerer, to marry him in the middle of a battle. So mesmerized by the cleverness and the challenge you bring, he can’t help but to throw it out there, a maniacal grin on his face and blood running down his chest as the unexpected question makes you falter. 

Trueform!sukuna, who doesn’t show his surprise on his face when you agree, even though he was most definitely expecting you to stab him again. Maybe it was the adrenaline from the fight, maybe it was the way his muscles rippled along his shirtless torso, but something told you the only other marriage offers you would receive would be lackluster in comparison. 

Trueform!sukuna, who takes you back to his estate and watches as you gawk at how clean it is. He only scowls at your expression. 

“What?”

“I didn’t expect it to be so…shiny.”

“You think because I shed blood, I live in it, too?”

“Nevermind,” you mutter, noting all the poetry he had around the place. 

Trueform!sukuna, who doesn’t surprise you with his lack of gentlemanliness and devotion. He shows you around your new home (which, you note, has not a single cobweb) and invites you for dinner. He doesn’t tell you to be quiet or how to dress, but he also makes it clear he doesn’t want you to be in his vicinity constantly. You don’t expect it any other way. 

Trueform!sukuna, who doesn’t go easy on you just because you’re his wife. The first time you sleep together it’s more like fighting than making love, both of you waking up the next morning covered head to toe in scratches and bruises. 

Trueform!sukuna, who laughs as you try to cover some of the marks he left on you with long enough sleeves. He grins when you ask why he’s not covering the marks you left. 

“Don’t you think people will think you’re weak? Letting me do all that to you?”

“No,” he answers firmly. “It will only show people how strong my wife is.”

Trueform!sukuna, who doesn’t show his affection through gifts of flowers or sweets that most husbands present to their wives. Your husband presents his love by fighting side by side with you, training late at night in the courtyard and debating with you on philosophy and politics.

Trueform!sukuna, who doesn't act like he owns you. When an arrogant politician makes a comment about how Sukuna needs to keep you in check, he watches smugly as you cooly berate and outwit the man. Of course, he'll jump to defend you if you ask him to (or when you're not around), but he thinks he prefers the astounded look on the dumb man's face when a woman stands up to him.

When he doesn’t jump to speak for you or doll you up in bows and ribbons, you don’t worry about him not loving you like a proper husband should. Trueform!sukuna makes it clear he married you because of your wit and strength, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

(spoiler alert— it doesn’t work)

“please don’t go. please? i’ll be so good…”

choso’s needy pleading went in one ear and out the other. maybe this would’ve worked in the early stages of your relationship, but a year in? really?

“babe, i made these plans a week ago, and you knew about them.” you reminded him, ignoring his whines as you fixed your hair in the mirror.

“i know…” he mumbled sadly, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. he buried his face in your neck, planting a series of slow kisses along your throat.

you sighed. “this isn’t gonna work.” you muttered, glaring at him in the mirror reflection.

he pouted, his hands traveling lower and slipping under your skirt. “are you sure…?” he whispered against the shell of your ear.

“choso.” you say flatly, pushing his hands off of your thighs. “i’m leaving. you’re not making me late.”

he frowned as you turned around to face him, his expression like a kicked puppy. “will you be home late?”

“mm.. probably not too long after midnight.” you lean up to press a little kiss on his jaw, smiling sweetly.

“and you’ll call me?”

“mhm.”

“if anything happens?”

“yes baby.”

“you won’t go anywhere alone, right?”

“nope, i’ll stay with my friends.”

he just stares at you for a few moments, blinking down at you.

“… be safe.”

you nodded, leaning up to press a few more kisses around his face, making him blush.

“see you later, baby. i love you.”

“i love you too.”

~

and then he waited…

and waited…

and waited.

until he knew that you had finally come home safe.

pairing: Husband!Dazai x pregnant!reader

summary: you’re 4 months pregnant, tired, and cold, aaanndddd the baby is heavy. Sweet husband Dazai suggests a warm bath together!

tags/warnings: fluff, pregnancy, married couple, teasing, sweeeet

wc: 450

a/n: my very first fic!!! YAYYYYYYYY i finally have something i deem worth sharing hehe. enjoy! Thanks for reading in advance!

“I’m emotional and pregnant, leave me alone” you stomp your way over to the stove, aggressively stirring the liquid in the small pot.

“And cold” you add, tone defeated, sighing quietly to yourself.

Dazai chuckles, the amused lilt to his melodic tone carrying from behind you. Heat from his chest radiates against your back, his hands snaking loosely around you. “And that’s why I won’t be leaving you alone, sweet thing”

yeah no that’s pretty accurate

thank u for da taggg

yeeeey tagging

@1mlostnow @fatherpo @fangirlshipper @deanbane

sure what the hell :P

Yippee thnks fr the tag!



Wait thats actually accurate i like ittt! Thanks for the tag!!☺️

Dazai is a lazy slacker. And annoying at that. News, right?

“Would you rather be deaf or blind?” Dazai asks, laying upside down on the office couch. His long legs are resting against the wall, his hair dangling down in a soft fluff, a lollipop between his fingers.

“Deaf” The deadpan can be heard through your flat tone, fingers tapping away at your keyboard at an efficient speed – quick and loud to drown out Dazais voice.

“Deaf so I don’t have to hear your bullshit” Dazais smile is clear as day in his teasing, pleased lilt to his tone, prompting you to send a tiny glare his way over your work computer.

He brings the blue lollipop to his lips again, smile widening behind it. “You love seeing me, that’s why” He closes his eyes, looking like he’s in pure bliss. “I get it”

You ignore him, your keyboard tapping growing harsher and louder.

“Do you think whales get cold?” He tries again, and you can see him from the corner of your eyes. Still smiling.

He doubles down once he gets no response out of you. “Don’t you think its weird that clouds float when they are evaporated water? Shouldn’t they fall down if they hold water?” He tries again

Sighing, you drop your head into your hands, massaging at your sore temple. “Why do you use this type of mental abuse on me, Dazai”

He sticks his blue stained tongue out for you, grinning widely with his forehead in full view.

Dazai is like a sleep paralysis you cant shake off or wake up from.

a/n: quick something i wrote before bed. writing is consuming all of the time from my other hobbies lately. im not entierly unhappy about that, just a little >-<

“cmon suguru, open up!” you knocked on the door for the fourth time. “i know you hear me.”

it’s been two weeks since gojo and suguru took on the star plasma vessel mission and failed. you were in kyoto on your mission, only hearing bits and pieces of the aftermath. from what you hear, suguru isn’t taking it well.

now it wasn’t often suguru and gojo failed a mission. now that you think about it, they never have. until now.

“you’re giving me a headache.” you heard him mumble through the door, but then you heard his feet dragging towards the door.

“missed me?” you smiled as he opened the door. a hum is all you got in response before he moved aside to let you enter.

suguru wasn’t a neat freak. he always had some sort of clutter in some corner. but he always maintained his room to keep it in good condition. yet, it looks like a tornado ran through it. old ramen containers on the floor, trash and dust everywhere, garbage bags sitting in the corner.

has he been living like this since the mission?

“sorry about the mess. i’ll clean it later.” he says softly, heading back into bed.

“suguru…” but you didn’t know what to say. he was worse than what you thought. you’ve experienced failed missions and death before. it was a tragic thing to face but suguru and gojo were always above that. they were untouchable. unstoppable. special grades.

you took off your shoes at the door and placed your bags on the floor before crawling into bed with him. his eyes were closed but you could see the dark bags under them. you wrapped your arm around him and he felt… smaller than before.

“sug… are you losing weight?”

“it’s just summer stress.” he mumbled, eyes still closed.

“suguru.”

“don’t.” his voice was clear now.

so you don’t. now isn’t the time to pressure him into talking. he’ll talk eventually, if he chooses to. you lay there next to him for a while. arm still wrapped around him. still, quiet, just watching his face.

but eventually, you got hungry. you intended to cook his favorite for dinner because that always cheers him up, but a meal can’t fix this. not this time.

doesn’t hurt to try anyway.

“sug, you hungry? i’m gonna cook dinner, okay?”

another hum. you kissed his forehead before getting up. he always did that to comfort you, maybe returning the favor will bring him some comfort.

you took the ingredients out of the bags you brought with you. you chopped up some vegetables and started boiling some water on the stove. while waiting on the water to boil, you decided to clean up. wiping down the table and counters. picking up trash. emptying the garage bin. organizing shoes by the door.

you continued to balance cooking and cleaning until you were done with both. a nice homemade meal and a clean space. even if it doesn’t make him feel better, at least his space is clean now.

carefully bringing the hot bowls to the table, you called out to him softly. “sug, i made your favorite ramen. it’s just how you like it.” you couldn’t help but smile at the fact. you spent weeks trying to perfect the recipe from his favorite ramen place.

“not hungry.”

your smile faltered. his back was turned towards you, but that didn’t deter you. “how about just a little? just enough to have something warm in your stomach.”

“later.”

you sat on the bed next to him. “suguru, you have to eat something.”

“i said later.”

you let out a soft huff of breath. you hated how helpless you felt. you sat on the floor and ate your dinner alone. food never was as good as when suguru ate with you. it was always better with him.

you cleaned up your dishes and put his bowl on the counter, in case he later got up to eat it. there was still plenty left over for him to eat throughout the week if he chose to.

you laid back in bed with him, this time you didn’t wrap an arm around him. you laid on your back and stared up at the ceiling. you watched the ceiling fan spin endlessly.

“suguru, i’m worried about you. i wish you would talk to me but i know you don’t want to so i won’t ask. but i love you and it hurts to see you like this. you don’t have to keep everything inside, im here for you.” you spoke softly, but you meant it all.

you couldn’t see but he had finally opened his eyes.

“if you do ever want to talk, i’ll listen. i won’t even pick at my hands.” you couldn’t help but let out an amused laugh. he hated when you picked at your hands during emotional conversations. “but if you want me to go, i’ll respect that, just tell me what you want.”

you were met with silence. for a moment, you almost thought he truly was asleep, but you hadn’t heard a soft snore from him all day. he always did, despite his refusal of the fact. you stayed still, waiting for him to decide, but nothing ever came.

you got up from the bed and was going to give him space, but you felt a tug on your wrist. suguru’s hand had wrapped gently around your wrist. he had turned to face you now. a quiet, almost hesitant, “stay.” is all he said.

you got back into the bed and wrapped your arm around him again. it wasn’t often you would be the big spoon, but you never minded when you were. especially now.

you wonder if he feels as safe as you do when you’re the little spoon.

you’d ask him one day. just not now. now was meant for quiet and presence. you couldn’t fix what he was going through but you could be present. and maybe that’s all he needs.

a/n: heres the second top vote for the headcanon poll! can you tell i LOVE silly, TOUCHY gojo? (˶˃⤙˂˶) and how did this reach 1k words...

……...

“Tighten your core”

A warm, large hand settles between your shoulder blades. Another rests on the small of your back, his hands pressing forward softly, maneuvering your positioning to his will.

“Its all in your stance. That’s your foundation” His breath fans your ear, hot and targeted – with him looming over you from behind.

Slowly, his hands glide over you till both settle on each sides of your waist; large hands consuming you.  

“Are you following along?” His fingers grip your waist slightly tighter, tapping his fingers twice over where he’s holding – a second reminder to activate your core.

You nod, not trusting yourself enough to use your voice. It doesn’t take much for you to easily complying to all of his instructions and orders.

Slowly, to help you engage your body-to-mind connection, he pulls you ever so slightly back by your waist, closer into him. His hands mold your body to his touch, till his bodyheat starts tickling your back.

“Its all in the foundation, pretty. A bad foundation leads to a collapsing structure, mhm?” he hums into your ear, his hands slowly disappearing around you, returning to his side.

“Now, show me what I just taught you” He steps back, hands slipping into his pockets, movements too calm and casual and you're left to act like you too are equally as unaffected.

……...

He wears his blindfolds the least around you, preferring to train you with his bright, watchful eyes on you, tracking your every movement to spot all your mistakes easier; or so he claims.

You pout. “That’s unfair. You’re already unbeatable as is.” You suggest a handicap. Just to make things a little more even and fair.                   

“Oh? And what would it be?” he tilts his head slightly to the side, that same infuriating teasing smile playing on his face.

“Your blindfolds” he quirks a brow at you, one side of his lips curling further upwards.

“Sure, knock your self out.” He doesn’t turn around for you himself, just stands there, hips thrusted to one side, waiting for you to come to him.

Slowly, reluctantly, you step closer, surprised he agreed to your request this fast. Rounding him, you take the blindfold from his hand, fingers brushing his oddly warm ones before you hastily wrap it around his wrists behind his back.

Going back to your spot, you adjust your stance – setting yourself.

The sight of him with his hands tied up behind his back brings a spark of satisfaction to you. He catches it, of course; smirking that slightly mock-amusement smirk of his.

“You think this will slow me down or something? Cute”

……...

His movements are too quick. Too cruel. His feet move far too fast for you to keep up.

His bright smile reaching his pretty eyes makes you think he’s doing it on purpose – outperforming you at a lever way above yours to get off on it.

He plays dirty and unfair.

“Focus” in a siwft motion, he’s suddenly standing behind you, speaking directly into your ear, glee threaded and intertwined in his tone. Soft and cruel, like poison in honey.

His hands are pushing you, and by the way his push lands you softly onto your stomach, you know he isn’t even breaking a sweat, going easy on you.

“If you lose, you'll have to fulfill your end of the deal and do as i say” His voice rings behind you, his footsteps approaching slowly as you groan, pushing yourself onto your elbows.

“No no, stay” Gojo sing-songs, looms over you. Slowly, he drops down until his knees hit the ground around you, caging you in under him. Leaning down with his hands still behind his back, he whispers “Im not done with you yet”

……...

“Come on, fight me back” he grits out between his teeth, pushing you harsher into the wall. You’re inside his indoor training room he uses for one-on-one spars – usually with either you or Megumi. The lights are starting to feel too bright, and the air clammier between you two.

He has his long fingers wrapped around both of your wrists, giving them one quick squeeze when he notices your mind is elsewhere.

“The curses won’t wait for you to get back on track. Now, fight me.” He repeats, huffing softly under his breath.

But you’re not complying. At least, not in his eyes.

You’re squirming too much, barely able to push him off you, still stuck against the wall when he isn’t even gripping you as hard as he could.

You’ve seen that man split curses in half with his bare hands before – you know he’s holding back.

You give a small, weak tug on your wrists, doing little to nothing.

He only presses closer, pushing himself further into you until you're flush against the wall.

“If you want to break free, then prove it. Fight back.”

“…”

 You’re too quiet, your eyes flickering between the two light oceans staring back at you this closely.

He mirrors your actions, his own gaze mapping out your expression. His jaw ticks.

With one swift motion, he pushes himself off of you, leaving you leaning against the wall, his back to you.

“You’re too comfortable with getting stuck. I won’t go easy on you next time” He huffs out, practically growling at you. Pushing the sliding doors open, he steps out without looking back at you once.

……...

He usually takes you for ice cream after training you till your body aches – a small motivation to move forward.

He only grants you this after being too harsh on you, his hands being too fast to grip you, sending you blow after blow while he watches comfortably.

He enjoys that, pushing you to your limits and beyond.

The ice cream is there to compensate for it so you don’t hate him for eternity.

……...

He takes you shopping with Nobara as well, holding both of your hands like you’re kindergarten students on a school trip with your teacher.

However, the way his hand gripps yours – long fingers wrapping around yours, hot skin pressing into your palm – is not childish, per say.

……...