#geto crack

content. mdni. crack. smut. porn with plot. oviposition. eggpreg obvi. oblivious reader.

WANT TO GET PAID JUST FOR LAYING IN BED?

okay, yeah, maybe you should've realized a vague job posting promising cash in exchange for essentially nothing was definitely sketchy. but, it wasn't like you thought you'd be doing...sex work?

was that what this was?

getting rutted ruthlessly into your bed by a hot snake hybrid you only met ten minutes ago while he murmured something about eggs in your ear. you weren't even hungry, but your brain was so fried from the sheer size of his fat cock stretching you out that you couldn't bring yourself to care about whatever he was planning on making after this.

just mindlessly nodding along, whining under the weight of his firm body, his chest pressing against yours while the edge of his tail wrapped against one of your calves.

"my pretty mate," he purred, his forked tongue dragging up the inside of your throat as your hips tried to arch up, to drive his thick cock inside you deeper until it had bottomed out completely. "gonna look so fuckin' gorgeous stuffed full of my-"

"s-suguru," you whimpered his name, thighs shuddering as one of his palms slid down your stomach, pressing down below your belly button like he could feel himself inside there.

you tried to recall how you ended up here.

attempted to remember what you signed up for.

you hadn't thought anyone would get back to you when you sent out your resume and head shots, but when they immediately accepted you and claimed they found you a match, promising a hefty bonus, you just sorta blindly signed whatever they sent over, skimming over the details once you saw the words 'helping rescues' and 'doing an overlooked community a great service'.

honestly, you sorta figured you'd be taking in a stray animal or something.

not letting a hybrid in heat fuck you through his rut.

but it was hard to mind when you opened your door to him and his stupidly charming smirk, those pretty purple eyes of his practically hypnotizing you when he introduced himself. you only really caught his name, distracted by his bare chiseled chest as you stepped aside to let him in.

and once he was inside, well, it didn't long for him to sink those sharp teeth of his in your throat and tear your clothes off.

his cock certainly wasn't like any of the guys you'd been with before. thicker and longer, reaching every sensitive spot without trying, every rough thrust practically rearranging your guts as he grabbed one of your thighs and pressed it up against your chest.

god, forget the paycheck.

you wanted to keep him.

"gonna be a good girl and take it all for me?" he half-hissed, working his tongue back over the sore spot just above your collarbone he'd bitten earlier.

"mm, mhm," you whimpered.

you weren't.

but it wasn't until you felt him stall, noticed the sudden pressure of something swelling by the base of his cock as it froze at your entrance, that you started to second guess what you signed up for.

a broken gasp of his name was ripped from the back of your throat, half an octave too high as the strange sensation continued up, up, up. it didn't hurt, not exactly, but the intense pressure of this new stretch was tinged with discomfort, the feeling of being molded, remade.

you couldn't even formulate words, just an incoherent string of moans escaping as you suddenly felt his tip swelling where it was firmly lodged at your cervix - and then white-hot pleasure exploding throughout your entire body, too busy trembling to realize what was happening until it was too late.

until he was in too deep.

forcing yourself to look down just to see a distinct bulge in your stomach. feeling an odd, unfamiliar weight settling there as his cock throbbed - and pushed something else through to join it.

"i-is that-"

"only a few more eggs, baby," he muttered, sweat making his dark bangs stick to his forehead as his brows scrunched together in focus. "you can take it."

you watched dumbfounded, body shuddering and shivering as your brain refused to process the fact you were being fucked full of eggs. womb stuffed to the brim as he shoved one after the other in, their soft shells bumping softly into each other as his tail around your leg tightened.

the hand that had been on your stomach shifting to toy with your clit, soothing you through it, coaxing you until you were cumming at the same time as him, thighs trembling as you tried to contain your loud moans, your body on the brink of overstimulation as you felt warm ropes of his cum starting to leak out of you.

he didn't collapse on top of you.

but he kissed your throat, trailed more delicate pecks up to your jaw and across your face. that lopsided smile of satisfaction lulling you back into a sense of security and distracting you from glancing down again.

"are you hungry?" he spoke softly, cocking his head to the side while his intense stare swept back over your body, like you were now something to take care of. "thirsty?"

"a little," you croaked, voice cracking as your lashes fluttered.

maybe you weren't an expert in snake hybrid biology, had no clue if the eggs would like, slip back out or somehow absorb your DNA, but you supposed this meant you really were mates now.

and despite how strange it felt to squirm, to move around and feel something move inside of you, you couldn't even bring yourself to be mad about it.

even if you were pretty sure you'd be stuck in this bed until the eggs came out.

a living incubator.

he ran his hand over your swollen stomach, leaning down to press a kiss to where he deposited his clutch inside you.

"snakes normally don't mate for life," he muttered with a soft hum, dragging his fingers over the outline of one of the eggs. "but i wouldn't mind spending the rest of mine like this."

div cr: @/tsumiinum

reblogs + comments are always greatly appreciated :3 clearing out some of my drafts and thought some of you would appreciate this one

Quick! Go Hide

in which you prank the sleeping jjk men by telling them, 'You need to hide; my boyfriend's home!'...saw it on tiktok heh

Satoru croaks, “Oh, shit. He is?” 

Groggily, he clambers out of bed and hides in the bathroom, bare feet padding. In the dark, he waits. Seconds pass and he shows no sign of realising what games you’re playing. When you go to collect him, you find him asleep, standing with his forehead pressed to the cold tile, drooling. 

“Is he gone?” He asks, voice raspy, shaken awake once again. You nod, biting your lip to keep from laughing. “Good ‘cause I’m too tired to fight anyone…I’d win though.” 

Soon after, in bed, he continues sleeping. And it’s only in the morning that you find him grinning and prodding your puffy cheek. “That was really funny, babe. Ten out of ten. No notes.”

Suguru's brows furrow. Without opening his eyes, he mutters, “Nice try.”

“No, really. You gotta go; he’ll kill you.” A curse emerges, large and foreboding, just watching in the corner of the room. Shivers wrack your body. It doesn’t move, doesn’t blink, nor utter a single sound. Still, the message is clear. You roll your eyes and cuddle into your boyfriend’s side. “You’re no fun.”

He tucks you in close. “Try again in the morning, pretty girl. I’m sure I’ll be more fun when I’m not half asleep.”

Choso startles awake, bloodshot eyes widening. “Oh no. What should we do?”

He lets you shove him into the closet, shirtless and hair a mess. There he stands patiently, shuffling on his feet and holding his breath. Then, when a minute passes, he has a moment of realisation. Creaking open, the closet door widens to reveal him – he looks unimpressed…and pouty. 

“I’m your only boyfriend; why do I need to hide?”

You giggle. “Sorry, Cho. It was just a joke.’

“I don’t really see what’s funny,” he grouches as he gets back into bed with you, wrapping his arms tight around your body and tucking his head in the crook of your neck, quickly forgetting your prank once his senses are overwhelmed with you. 

Toji peeks one eye at your faux panicked face. He shoves it away, grumbling under his breath about how much of a brat you are and shifts into a different position; he’s got his back turned to you now. Undeterred, you shake him one more time. “I’m being serious. You gotta hide, Toji.”

“Leave me alone, woman. I don’t wanna deal with your shit right now.”

You drape your entire body over his. His beefy arm comes around to keep you steady, in case you fall off the bed with your clumsy ass. “Okay, but if he beats you up and takes me away, your loss.”

He grunts. “I’d like to see anyone try.”

Then, to keep your mouth from disturbing his sleep any longer, he suffocates your face in between his pecs, a hand on your ass, groping it for compensation.

Kento jolts, hands grabbing you to push your body behind his. He scans the room, then the door, waits for the intruder, ready to defend. Only when he hears your stifled laughter does he truly process what you told him. He sighs, hand rubbing down his face. “Can’t sleep again, darling?”

“No. The baby keeps kicking me.” You smile when his warm palm caresses your stomach. 

Leaving a kiss on your forehead, he mutters, “I’ll give them a stern talking to; no child of mine hurts my wife. Now, would you like a midnight snack or should we stay up and watch the stars again?”

Lifted out of bed, he carries you in his arms, intent on keeping your bare feet from touching the cold floor. Even as sleep still courses through his veins, he’s determined to meet your every need – Kento couldn’t fall asleep again knowing you’re wide awake anyway. 

Sukuna doesn’t awaken. He’s as still as a corpse. You try again. And again. Nothing. When you pout and smack his chest, one of his four arms snatches your waist and slides you onto his huge body. Your ass is being patted, as is your head, and with another arm, he rubs your back. 

Calmly, his chest rumbles with his words. “All your previous partners are dead. No one will disturb us. Sleep.”

“Okay, Kuna…wait…no, they aren’t.”

He doesn’t reply, leaving you to wonder when he had the time to hunt them down one by one since he spends so much time never leaving your side in the first place. No answer comes to mind; his body can be so persuasive in pulling you to the land of slumber with him. Though, you are certain he whispers, ‘They will be,’ once he thinks you won’t hear. Try and follow up the next day however and he’ll shrug off your concerns with a, ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’

: ̗̀➛ ragebating them again <3

summary: why not try your ragebait tactics on your boyfriend… again! maybe he’s catching onto your methods but it’s worth a shot!

includes: gojo x reader, geto x reader, nanami x reader, ino x reader, megumi x reader, toji x reader

genre: fluff/ crack

a/n: i hope some of these aren’t too mean!!!

part one

all work belongs to @get0sprincess plz do not repost

“you’re joking,” suguru grumbles.

“i’m not joe king,” oh, you little shit, “i’m your baby. your darling. your sweetheart. your insert sappy ass nickname, my dearest.” a pause, before you tilt the camera for a better angle— eyebrows furrowed in that little pinch in the same way they always do when you’re utterly locked in on executing your. . mostly (99.9%) nefarious deeds.

“babe,” you pry again, looking down at your free hand for leverage before very thoughtfully deciding to headbutt him again. “tell me i’m annoying. c’mon.” a poke in his sides. a tap on his forehead.

and yet— here suguru lies half asleep at ass ’o clock on what he believes to be his doomsday, questioning his caffeine-fuelled existence and his ever so dilapidated will to live.

(what a drama queen. he loves you too much.)

it all started when satoru had the smart idea to smack a water balloon against suguru’s back while he was outside training the second years in the burning sun.

suguru had gone stiff from the sudden impact and the water soaking through his clothes. and before he turned around, all he could hear was the white-haired man’s giggles from a distance.

and when he did turn around, he found satoru and a bucket of water balloons.

this is what he was doing instead of teaching the first years?

little did suguru know that it was the first-year students who had filled the balloons with water.

“my students and i will beat yours, you know that, right?” suguru said, challenge evident in his tone and a crooked smile on his lips.

“well, hold on, who said i’m staying out of this? no way. so, obviously, we’ll win,” satoru declared smugly.

to which suguru replied, “no cursed energy use allowed. including infinity.”

and that’s how both of their students got dragged into a water balloon fight. not that they were complaining; it was nice to destress, and getting doused in water wasn’t the worst thing considering the hot weather.

“pffft, what kind of throw was that, inumak-- oof.” satoru was halfway through cackling before two water balloons burst square on his chest by panda and maki with no remorse. it wasn’t often that they were able to hit their teacher after all.

suguru only chuckles, eyes closed with delight and pride directed at his students. and it even earned a quiet, amused laugh from megumi who satoru’s head snapped towards with incredulity and betrayal written all over his face.

“you’re on my team. why are you laughing?” satoru almost whines, very much (not) like the 28-year-old he is.

another loud smack! echoes off satoru. his back this time, and he stumbles forward slightly.

“don’t you know that you shouldn’t turn your back towards your opponent, satoru?” suguru says, voice as sweet as honey, like he didn’t just hurl a water balloon at satoru with all his force.

it only escalates from there.

everyone was practically drenched by the time you came outside to see where everyone was - your husband’s classroom, which was supposed to be occupied by him and his students, was empty when you checked.

he’s wearing his tinted, rectangular glasses, hair down and wet, his skin catching in the sunlight, a halo seemingly appearing around his head. and the most radiant thing out there isn’t the sun. it’s his carefree smile, his laugh floating in the breeze and wiggling into your ear canals, hairs dancing in response.

a smile of your own tilts your lips up affectionately as you walk closer to them.

he’s the first to notice you, of course. and somehow his grin brightens, almost blindingly, competing with the sun.

“hey, baby! wanna join our water balloon fight?” he asks immediately, handing you a water-filled balloon. “i’m getting bullied out here.”

you giggle as you approach satoru’s side, noticing how his clothes are soaked through. you take the balloon from him, shaking your head woefully in a dramatic act. “oh, my poor husband. don’t worry, i’ll save you,” you tease.

“my knight in shining armour. ha! watch out, everyone, my wife’s gonna--” four water balloons hit satoru consecutively, cutting him off once again. “see, i told you! i’m getting bullied. they aren’t even targeting my students as much as they’re targeting me!”

a pout begins to form on his pink lips and you pat his back softly, unable to help the small laugh that tumbles out. seeing the strongest rendered helpless because of a few water balloons.

“don’t worry, we’ll get our revenge, my love.”

it’s safe to say the same thing happens in winter when it begins to snow and satoru makes the first snowball.

"tell me why we're doing this, again?" satoru's annoyed voice rings in your ear as he complains for the zillionth time about having to do this. it's an unexpectedly hot september day and of course, today is the day the furniture needs to be rearranged.

"didn't you hear her," suguru grumbles, also annoyed but trying his hardest to be patient. "the fung shui is off."

their muscular hands grip into both sides of the couch, lifting it into the air like it's nothing. although, satoru seems to exaggerate the laborious nature of it all. he whines about his back aching, about how sweaty he is and so on.

you only roll your eyes, hands crossed over your chest as they get ready to set the couch back down: "you guys are always bragging about how strong you are—no, not there the energy flow isn't right."

both men huff, shuffling over to the left, then to the right, then back to the left again—all in the name of appeasing you. your brows furrow, standing from a distance watching the two—extremely hot, extremely jacked, extremely shirtless—men grunting. maybe you're not ready for the show to be over, but maybe most of all, you need everything to look just right.

"hmm, i don't know." you tap your chin, staring at the sight before you.

"babe, we've been circling the same spot over and over again," suguru finally interjects, moments away from loosing his sanity. he puts his end of the couch down. "the energy flow is fine. perfect, even."

satoru follows suit, "mhm, the best energy flow i've ever felt. the fungi stay is impeccable."

"agreed." suguru chimes in with a snort, not bothering to correct satoru.

they plop down on the couch, legs spreading, leaning back, exhausted. there's a slot between them that's calling your name, and something about their expressions is oh-so-delicious.

content: domestic fluff, non-graphic shower scene, hair brushing, cuddling, breakfast together, romance, mild suggestive themes.

m.list

you wake up to warm arms wrapped around your waist and the soft glow of morning light peeking through the curtains. for a moment, you just lie there, listening to the gentle rhythm of suguru's breathing against your back. his breath is warm on your neck, and you can feel the steady beat of his heart where your back presses against his chest.

"morning, angel," his voice comes, low and sleepy, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. his arms tighten around you briefly, pulling you even closer. "did you sleep well?"

you twist in his embrace to face him, your nose practically touching his. his long hair is loose, cascading around his face and onto the pillow, some of it tickling your cheek. he looks so peaceful like this, all the sharp edges of his expression softened by sleep. you reach up to brush a strand of hair away from his face.

"i always sleep well when you're here," you murmur. "you're like a personal heater."

he chuckles, the sound vibrating in his chest. "good. because i plan on keeping you warm for a very long time." he leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead, lingering there for a moment. "should we get up? i was thinking we could shower together this morning."

your heart flutters at the suggestion. these quiet mornings together are your favorite. "I'd like that."

the bathroom fills with steam as suguru starts the water, adjusting the temperature with characteristic patience. he tests it on his wrist first, making sure it's just right before pulling you closer. you step into the shower, the warm water immediately relaxing your muscles.

"come here," he says softly, guiding you to stand under the stream. his hands are so gentle as he tips your head back, wetting your hair. his long fingers massage your scalp, and you can't help the small sigh of contentment that escapes you.

"that feels amazing," you whisper.

"i know." you can hear the smile in his voice. "i learned from the best. now close your eyes."

you hear him squirt some shampoo onto his palm sandalwood and lavender, his signature scent. he'd gotten you hooked on it too, saying that the smell reminded him of calm mornings just like this one. he works the shampoo into your hair with the same dedication he applies to everything, his fingers never too rough, always perfectly pressureized.

"you're so good at this," you hum, your eyes still closed as he massages your scalp.

"years of practice," he teases. "i had to take very good care of this hair, you know. it's my best feature."

you laugh, opening your eyes to look up at him. "oh, so that's why you spend twenty minutes on it every morning?"

"thirty minutes," he corrects with a smirk, his dark eyes twinkling with amusement. "and worth every second. wouldn't you agree?"

you let your gaze travel down his body — his broad shoulders, his toned chest, his abdomen where the definition from countless workouts is evident even through the steam. you bite your lower lip before meeting his eyes again.

"absolutely," you breathe.

he laughs, a rich, warm sound that fills the bathroom. "pervert," he says lovingly, booping your nose with soapy fingers. "you were staring."

"can you blame me?" you counter, reaching out to trace the curve of his bicep. "look at yourself. you're like a greek statue come to life."

he flexes deliberately, a smug grin spreading across his handsome face. "what you see is all yours, angel. every single inch." he winks. "including the parts you're not seeing yet."

you splutter, face flushing. "sugu!"

he just laughs again, turning you around so you're facing away from him. "okay, okay. let me finish washing your back before we get distracted." his hands are gentle as he lathers up the loofah, running it down your shoulders and along your spine. "you know," he says, his voice dropping lower, "i really do love these mornings with you."

"yeah?"

"yeah." he presses a kiss to your shoulder, then another one higher up on your neck. "just the two of us, no curses, no complications. just you and me and a warm shower."

you lean back against his chest, letting him support your weight. "i love it too. it feels like we have our own little world."

"we do." his arms wrap around your waist, holding you close under the water. "our own little world where i get to love you however i want."

you turn in his embrace, wrapping your arms around his neck. the water streams down both of you, and you have to tilt your face up to meet his eyes. "and how exactly do you want to love me?"

he considers this, his gaze travelling over your face with naked adoration. "with all of me. every single day. for as long as you'll have me."

"that sounds like a lifetime commitment," you whisper.

"it is." he leans down and captures your lips in a kiss that's sweet and tender and speaks volumes without saying a word. when he pulls back, his eyes are soft. "i meant what i said when i married you. you're mine and i'm yours. no take-backs."

"good." you smile against his mouth. "because i wasn't planning on taking you back either."

he hums in approval, then gently pushes you back under the water stream. "okay, angel. time to rinse. i don't want you getting shampoo in your eyes."

"you're so gentle with me," you observe as he carefully pours water over your hair, his long strand-free fingers making sure every suds is gone.

"you're my wife." he says it like it's the simplest truth in the world. "of course i'm gentle with you. you deserve everything soft and good in this world."

after your hair is rinsed, he reaches for his own bottle of shampoo. you stop him with a hand on his chest.

"let me," you say, taking the bottle from him. "my turn to take care of you."

he raises an eyebrow. “you sure? i mean—"

"i know you let nobody else touch your hair." you stand on your tiptoes to kiss his Jaw. "but i'm not nobody. i'm your wife."

his expression softens immediately. "yeah," he says softly. "you are."

you work the shampoo into his hair with the same tenderness he showed you, massaging his scalp in slow, circular motions. his eyes flutter closed, and a soft groan escapes him.

"that feels incredible," he murmurs. "you have no idea how much i love having your hands on me."

"i think i have some idea," you laugh, continuing your task. his hair is so long and thick, and you find yourself enjoying the texture between your fingers. "how do you even manage to take care of this by yourself?"

"lots of practice," he sighs, leaning into your touch. "but i'd much prefer your hands on me than my own."

you spend a few more minutes just reveling in this moment — caring for him the way he cares for you, learning the parts of his body through touch. his shoulders are broad and strong beneath your palms, evidence of years of physical training. you can feel the ripple of muscles in his back as he shifts his weight, and you have to suppress the urge to trace them with your tongue.

"you're distracting yourself," suguru notes, his voice thick with amusement. "i can hear you thinking."

"shut up," you mumble, focusing fiercely on his hair.

he chuckles, the sound low and fond. "it's okay, angel. i like that you're attracted to me. it works out nicely since i find you absolutely irresistible."

"is that so?"

"oh, without a doubt." he turns around in your embrace, and now you're the one looking up at him. his wet hair clings to his shoulders and chest, and the water streams down his face in rivulets. he looks like something out of a fantasy — beautiful and dangerous and entirely yours. "in fact, i'd say we should probably finish this shower before we get carried away."

"probably," you agree, but neither of you makes a move to separate.

he kisses you again, slower this time, more deliberate. his hands settle on your waist, thumbs tracing patterns on your skin. when he finally pulls back, both of you are breathing a little heavier.

"tease," you accuse.

"pot calling the kettle black," he counters, finally reaching for the detachable showerhead. "you started it."

"no, you started it!"

"mm, debatable." he begins rinsing his own hair, his back to you. you take the opportunity to admire the view — the way his muscles move beneath his skin, the way his wet hair clings to his muscular frame. your husband is ridiculously attractive, and you're not afraid to admit it.

"like what you see?" he asks without turning around, clearly having caught you staring.

"absolutely," you don't even try to deny it. "you're stunning."

he turns to face you, a self-satisfied grin on his handsome face. "stunning, huh? that's a new one. usually people go for breathtaking or gorgeous."

"i like to be original," you shrug.

"well, thank you, angel." he pulls you close again, pressing your bodies together under the warm water. "you're pretty stunning yourself. most beautiful woman i've ever seen."

"now you're just being sappy."

"i can be both." he nuzzles his nose against yours. "sappy and in love with my gorgeous wife."

a warmth spreads through your chest at his words, and you wrap your arms around his torso, letting yourself be held. the water streams over both of you, and for a long moment, you just stand there, wrapped in each other's embrace.

finally, suguru speaks. "okay, i really don't want you getting sick from staying in the water too long." he presses a quick kiss to your temple. "come on, angel. let's get out."

"turning into prunes already?" you tease.

"exactly." he turns off the water and steps out, grabbing a towel for himself first before wrapping another one around you. he doesn't even try to dry himself off first — instead, he focuses entirely on you, making sure you're wrapped up snug and warm.

"what about you?" you ask.

"i'll dry off in a minute. you first." he tucks the towel securely around you, his hands lingering on your shoulders. "i like taking care of you. it makes me feel... useful."

you reach up to touch his face, your thumb tracing his cheekbone. "you are useful. you're my husband, my partner, my best friend. you do so much for me already."

"not enough." he turns his head to press a kiss to your palm. "i'll never do enough."

"suguru," you say softy, "you do everything. more than enough. more than i ever dreamed of."

he looks at you for a long moment, and there's something almost reverent in his expression. "how did i get so lucky?" he whispers.

"i ask myself the same thing every day."

he laughs, tucking a strand of wet hair behind your ear. "okay, enough of this emotional stuff. let's go get dressed. i want to spend the day with my beautiful wife."

you follow him to your shared bedroom, the towel still wrapped around you. suguru is already dry he'd done a quick job of it while you were watching him with hearts in your eyes and he's rummaging through the closet for something to wear.

"what are you thinking for today?" he asks, glancing back at you over his shoulder. his long hair is damp, clinging to his back in wet strands.

"something comfortable," you say, sitting down on the edge of the bed. "maybe a lazy day? we don't have any plans, do we?"

"nope." he pulls out a simple black t-shirt and some grey sweatpants, holding them up for your approval. "how about these? i was thinking we could have breakfast together, maybe watch some movies, that documentary series you like—"

"suguru," you interrupt, smiling. "that sounds perfect. whatever you want."

"what i want is to make you happy." he walks over and sits beside you on the bed. "so if lazy day with movies and breakfast sounds good to you, then that's what we'll do."

"it sounds perfect."

he leans over and kisses your cheek, lingering there for a moment. "good. now let me help you get dressed. your hair is still wet, and i don't want you getting cold."

"suguru, i can dress myself," you laugh, but there's warmth in your voice.

"i know." he starts drying your hair with the towel, his touch impossibly gentle. "but i like taking care of you. let me have this."

how could you possibly argue with that? you let him dry your hair, letting out a small hum of contentment at the soft friction of the towel against your scalp. when he's satisfied that you're mostly dry, he reaches for your clothes.

"arms up," he instructs, and you comply, letting him pull your shirt over your head. he dresses you with the same care he demonstrates in everything — making sure the fabric isn't twisted, smoothing it down over your curves.

"there we go," he murmurs, stepping back to admire you. "beautiful."

"you haven't even seen the pants yet."

"i don't need to." he taps your nose. "you're beautiful in everything. or nothing."

"suguru!" you swat at him, but you're laughing.

he grins, grabbing a pair of lounge pants for you. "okay, okay. pants time. lift your feet."

you step into the panties and pants he holds open for you, and he pulls them up your legs with exaggerated care. his hands linger on your thighs, and you catch his expression — soft and fond and entirely smitten.

"what?" you ask.

"nothing." he stands up, adjusting the waistband so it sits perfectly on your hips. "just... i love you."

"i love you too." you reach out and pull him into a hug, burying your face in his chest. "thank you for taking care of me."

"always." he holds you tight, his chin resting on top of your head. "that's my job now."

after a few moments, he steps back, giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze. "okay, your turn to help me."

"oh?" you raise an eyebrow. "i thought you had a strict no-touch policy for your hair."

he sighs, though there's a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "you know you're the exception to every rule i have."

"flattery will get you everywhere, mr. geto."

"i was hoping it would." he sits down on the bed, crossing his legs and facing away from you. "okay, angel. do your worst."

you pick up the hairbrush from the bedside table and settle behind him. his damp hair is a tangled mess, and you can't help but tut softly.

"what happened to all that thirty-minute maintenance you yap about?" you ask, starting at the ends and working your way up.

"that's for dry hair." he winces as you hit a snag. "sorry. i haven't brushed it yet. i was waiting for you."

"you were waiting for me?"

"yeah." his voice is softer now, almost embarrassed. "i like when you brush my hair. it's... intimate. in a good way."

your heart melts. "suguru. you should have said something."

"i know. i just..." he trails off, and you can see the tips of his ears turning red. "i like being taken care of by you. it makes me feel... safe."

you set down the brush and lean forward, wrapping your arms around his neck from behind. you press your chest to his back, your chin resting on his shoulder. "you're safe with me, okay? always. i promise."

he reaches up to cover one of your hands with his own, his fingers curling around your palm. "i know. that's why i married you."

"good." you press a kiss to his cheek before pulling back to resume your task. "now sit still and let me work my magic."

he does, staying surprisingly still as you work through the tangles in his long hair. you take your time, making sure you're not hurting him, being as gentle as possible. when you reach the crown of his head, he practically purrs.

"that feels amazing," he murmurs. "you have magical hands."

"i know," you tease. "i learned from watching you."

"smart woman."

it takes a while, but finally his hair is smooth and detangled, falling in dark waves down his back. you set down the brush and run your fingers through it one more time, just for the sheer pleasure of touching him.

"okay," you say. "it's dry enough now. time for accessories."

he turns to look at you, raising an eyebrow. "accessories?"

"cute clips." you reach into the jar on your dresser and pull out several small hair clips — some with bows, some with flowers, one with a little cartoon cat face. "i found these yesterday and i think they'll look adorable in your hair, can i?”

for a moment, he just looks at the clips in your hand before huffing out a quiet laugh. “angel, mimiko and nanako do this to me all the time,” he says, sounding far more amused than reluctant. “why would i not allow you to? it’s fine.”

he turns his back to you again, dark hair cascading down his shoulders like a silent invitation. “do your worst, angel.”

you let out a squeal of delight that makes him chuckle. you select a few clips carefully a small pink bow, a blue flower, and the cat one because you think it will make him look adorable.

"you look so cute," you announce once you're done, turning his face toward yours to admire your handiwork. "like a little pretty boy."

he lets you turn his face toward yours, the clips catching the light just enough to make it worse. his eyes flick over your expression, then drift away with a slow, exaggerated side-eye.

“pretty boy,” he repeats flatly, like he’s testing how insulting the words are supposed to be.

there’s a beat of silence.

then his mouth twitches.

“you’re lucky i love you,” he says, still giving you that look, but there’s no real heat behind it—just fond resignation. “because that was not the compliment you think it was.”

you gasp softly, placing a hand over your heart like you’ve been wounded. “not a compliment?” you repeat, scandalized. “suguru geto, i just enhanced your natural pretty-boy aura.”

you step closer, squinting at him like you’re appraising a masterpiece. “you should be thanking me, honestly. this is elite styling.”

then your expression softens into a grin. “besides,” you add, voice dropping a little gentler, “you like it. i can tell.”

he holds your gaze for a moment longer, still wearing that faint, unimpressed look like he’s debating whether to argue with you on principle. then he exhales through his nose, a soft sigh that ruins any attempt at seriousness. “yes, i do,” he says simply. no hesitation, no embarrassment just honesty, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

"that's all i needed to hear." you kiss his cheek, leaving a faint lipstick mark. "okay, my turn."

you turn around, presenting your damp hair to him. he picks up the brush and goes to work, his touch feather-light against your scalp. it's silent for a while, both of you just enjoying the intimacy of the moment.

"you know," suguru says eventually, "i never thought i'd have this."

"have what?"

"this. someone to share mornings with. someone who touches my hair without me wanting to flinch." he pauses, carefully working out a tangle. "someone who makes me feel normal."

"you are normal, suguru."

"some days i'm not so sure." his voice is quiet, vulnerable. "but with you... you make me feel like i can be. like i don't have to be the strong one all the time."

you reach back to find his hand, squeezing it gently. "you're always strong for me. but you don't have to be. not with me. i love all of you. the strong parts and the vulnerable parts and everything in between."

he's quiet for a moment, then you feel his lips press to your shoulder. "i love you," he says. "so much it sometimes scares me."

"me too." you turn to look at him over your shoulder. "but in the best way."

he smiles a real smile, soft and warm and completely unguarded. "finish your hair, you romantic sap."

"you started it!"

"nope. i just stated a fact." he resumes brushing, more determined now. "my wife is an romantic sap who makes me feel loved."

"and my husband is a big softie who lets me put clips in his hair."

"keep talking and i'll put all the clips in at once."

"you wouldn't dare."

“try me."

you laugh, turning back around to face forward. "okay, okay. i'm being good."

he finishes brushing your hair, making sure it's smooth and free of tangles. then he reaches into the jar and pulls out a clip a star-shaped one with small gemstones embedded in it.

"this one," he says, fastening it into your hair. "i saw it yesterday and thought of you. you're my guiding star, angel."

your heart flip-flops in your chest. "suguru..."

"too cheesy?"

"never." you turn to face him, cupping his face in your hands. "you're never too cheesy. i love every soft thing you say to me."

"good." he kisses the tip of your nose. "because i have an endless supply."

"good. i have an endless supply of love to receive it with."

he stands up, pulling you with him. he smooths down your hair one more time, adjusting the star clip so it catches the light perfectly.

"perfect," he declares. "my beautiful wife."

"my handsome husband." you reach up to touch the cat clip in his hair. "and his very cute accessories."

he rolls his eyes, but he's smiling. "come on, let's go make breakfast. i'm starving."

you follow him to the kitchen, watching as he moves around with easy familiarity. he pulls out ingredients for pancakes — flour, eggs, milk, sugar and sets them on the counter with the precision of someone who takes cooking seriously.

"you want chocolate chips in yours?" he asks, already reaching for the bag.

"always."

"good choice." he starts mixing the batter, his strong arms working the whisk with practiced ease. you lean against the counter, just watching him. there's something mesmerizing about the way he moves confident and controlled, like everything he does matters.

"you're staring again," he notes without looking up.

"i can't help it. you look good with flour on your nose."

he pauses, reaching up to touch his face. sure enough, there's a dusting of white on the tip of his nose. you take a step closer and brush it away with your thumb, lingering there for a moment.

"there," you murmur. "all clean."

"now you're getting flour on my cheek," he says, but he's leaning into your touch.

"oops." you don't step back. instead, you let your hand trail down to his jaw, tilting his face toward yours. "hi."

"hi." his voice is softer now. "what are you doing?"

"admiring my husband."

"admiring can wait until after breakfast. i don't want the pancakes to burn."

"fine." you drop your hand but don't step back. "but afterwards, i want cuddles."

"cuddles are non-negotiable." he returns to the batter, pouring it onto the hot griddle with practiced skill. "we might also need to rewatch that documentary you like. the one about deep sea creatures."

"really?"

"really." he glances at you, a soft smile on his face. "i remember you saying you wanted to see it again. so we will."

"you remember everything i say?"

"everything important." he flips a pancake with a practiced flick of his wrist. "your happiness is important."

you feel your heart do that familiar flip it does whenever he says something unexpectedly sweet. "you're ridiculous."

"ridiculously in love with you," he corrects. "there's a difference."

"not really."

"there is." he arranges the finished pancakes on a plate, adding whipped cream and strawberries on top for you. "ridiculous implies something negative. my love for you is the most positive thing in my life."

you're quiet for a moment, overwhelmed by the sheer weight of his devotion. then you walk over and wrap your arms around his waist from behind, pressing your face between his shoulder blades.

"thank you," you whisper. "for loving me like this."

he covers your arms with his own, holding you close. "thank you for letting me."

after breakfast, you end up on the couch exactly as suguru promised, a fluffy blanket draped over both of you as the documentary plays on the screen. your head rests on his chest, his arm wrapped around your shoulders, his long hair still adorned with the clips you chose spilling over the armrest.

"this is nice," you sigh.

"this is perfect," he corrects, pressing a kiss to your hair. "exactly how i want to spend every morning."

"you don't get tired of this?"

"never." his fingers trace lazy patterns on your shoulder. "i spent so many years alone. so many years thinking i didn't deserve something like this. and then i met you, and you showed me that i was wrong."

you tilt your head to look at him. "i didn't show you anything. you already knew. you just needed someone to be there."

"yeah." his purple eyes are soft, endless. "you were there. and you kept being there, even when i pushed you away. even when i didn't think i was worth the effort."

"you were always worth the effort."

"i know that now." he smiles, and it's like the sun coming out. "because of you. you're my proof that good things can happen to people like me."

"people like you?"

"people who have done bad things. people who think they don't deserve happiness." he pauses, looking away from the screen to focus entirely on you. "you taught me that i can have both. the good and the bad. they can coexist. and that i don't have to choose between them."

"suguru..." you reach up to touch his face. "you deserve every good thing in this world. and if nobody has told you that lately—"

"you tell me every day," he interrupts softly. "multiple times a day. i never get tired of hearing it."

"good." you settle back against his chest. "because i plan on telling you every day for the rest of our lives."

"i can live with that." he holds you closer, if possible. "in fact, i can't wait."

the documentary drone on in the background, but neither of you are really paying attention. you're too caught up in each other, in the simple joy of being together, of having this moment just for yourselves.

"sugu," you murmur eventually.

"yeah?"

"your hair clips are falling out."

he reaches up, adjusting the cat clip that's slipped slightly. "better?"

"let me fix it."

you sit up, turning him toward you so you can rearrange the clips. the cat one goes back in its proper place, along with the pink bow and the blue flower. you take a moment to just look at him your husband, your bestie, the man who lets you do his hair and feed him pancakes and curl up against him on lazy mornings.

"perfect," you declare, leaning in to kiss his forehead.

"i have the best wife," he says, pulling you back down against him.

"you really do."

he laughs, the sound rumbling through his chest and into yours. "i love you, angel."

"i love you too, sugu. more than you'll ever know."

"i think i'm starting to get an idea." he kisses the top of your head, lingering there. "you show me every day. in everything you do."

you're quiet for a moment, just listening to his heartbeat. then, softly “i'll keep showing you. for as long as you want me."

"forever, then." his arms tighten around you. "i want you forever."

"forever it is." you close your eyes, letting the warmth of his embrace and the sound of his heart lull you into a state of perfect contentment. "you're stuck with me, suguru."

ʚ incl: gojo, geto, nanami, toji, choso, sukuna, higuruma, shiu, ino, shoko, uraume

ʚ cont: crack, fluff

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

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