Nanami Would Never Ignore You. But Sometimes He Likes To Pretend He Didnt Hear You Call His Name Just

nanami would never ignore you. but sometimes he likes to pretend he didn’t hear you call his name just so he can hear your sweet chirp one more time.

which actually shocked him when he first realized it because he usually hates when people say his name. it’s like nails on a chalkboard when gojo calls for him. he merely tolerates it when yuuji says his name because he knows the boy means no harm. hates when anyone else says his name because he knows 9 times out of 10 they’re going to have an annoying request of him.

however, when you’re in the other room & let out that sweet “keeennnn”, he doesn’t feel the irritation bubbling in him like it does with everyone else. it’s the opposite- he gets butterflies. all giddy, excited to see what it is you need. whether it’s help for something, his opinion, or just his presence, he loves to hear his name tumble off your tongue.

“ken?” you repeat, ending in a higher tone wondering if you weren’t loud enough the first time. but he heard you. & he thinks about not responding once more just to hear you again, but decides his desire to actually go find you is much more powerful. he smiles lightly to himself, putting his book on the coffee table before getting up and following the sound of your voice to the bedroom. he walks in, hands in his pockets and smile still plastered, leaning against the doorframe to find you sitting criss-cross in fronr of your shared body mirror. you see him in your reflection & match his smile, whipping your head around before asking

“wanna do face masks with me?”

as if he would ever say no to you.

thinking about…

satoru as a husband ᡣ𐭩

words: 1.3k

lazily, he slots himself on the couch, laying across the long piece of furniture, his feet dangling off the edge. he thought about how you would get upset that he dirtied the couch, but he would brush it off by telling you he’d buy you a whole new set.

just a minute.

he swore he closed his eyes for one second, only for 45 minutes to have passed by. when he had finally opened his eyes he remained on the couch, except you had weaseled your way to move his heavy head onto your lap, running your fingers through his snow-like hair.

“hi handsome” you smile down at him. he blinks and yawns. “i thought i heard the door open and when i finally came down to investigate here you are asleep” you giggle and slightly pinch his nose.

he crinkles it slightly and sends you a small smile. “ ‘m sorry baby, i could’ve sworn i closed my eyes for one second. but there’s nothing better than to wake up and see your pretty face” he reaches for the hand that's in his hair and lays gentle kisses from your wrist to your palm. internally you frowned, he looked exhausted and your heart ached a little when he winced from adjustung his head so he could look at you better. he worked so hard to provide, he worked so hard for you.

you smile brightly and place a kiss on his forehead, “you’re so sappy” and he chuckles, bringing your hand to cup his cheek.

“why don't we get you cleaned up, yeah?” he stares into your eyes, tender and warm but fatigue laced in his icy blue orbs, your gaze lingering on each other for just a second too long. he sighs and reluctantly gets up, leaving you and your warmth to make his way to the bathroom.

the tension in his muscles melts away when he feels the pelt of hot water grace his supple skin. he sighs, his head turned down with eyes close. he feels the ache in his body fade away until it resides as a slight ebb. it made him even more sleepy. after shampooing and lathering his body in soap, he turns the shower off, and steps in front of the steamy mirror.

he notices the growing dark under eye circles and slight stubble he's been neglecting recently. he notices the slight wrinkles that are growing prominent from the frequency of his frowning lately. he grimaces, turning around to flip off the light and closes the door.

his eyes are met with dim candle lights and incense burning, you're sitting prettily on your knees with a silky pink gown. “what's all this for pretty?” he feels his heart tightening, making his way towards you, his knees touching the edge of your bed.

“i wanted to do some skin care on you, you never take care of yourself toru” you look into his azure eyes as you pout.

how did he ever end up finding you.

he brings his hand to your face, gently thumbing your cheek, “i don’t focus on such frivolous things, i have to keep my girl safe and happy. you didn’t have to do all this for me baby.”

you stand up from the bed, grabbing both of satoru’s hands and speak to him, “i want to take care of you toru, you’re so good to me i need to return the gesture, it’s what my husband deserves.” he chuckles and brings his forehead to yours, “you don’t need to do anything for me. you don’t owe me anything either, everything i do for you is purely because i want to do it. all i do for you is the bare minimum, i should be doing more in fact!”

you pout again upset at how he discredits his actions. as if making you quit your job so you can stay at home stress free and spoiling you with love and thousand dollar shopping sprees is bare minimum. not to mention all the traveling you guys do when he spontaneously mentions that he’s taking you on vacation. “you do so much more than that and you know it. all i’m asking you for is to lay in bed and relax!” you shove his shoulder.

he finally flops on the bed with his hands behind his head, waiting for you to move. he wiggles his eyebrows at you which makes your eyes roll but makes you smile nonetheless.

“i like where this is going” he whistles at you as you straddle his lap, you lightly slap his arm. “get your mind out of the gutter. nothing is happening tonight just so we’re clear” he rolls his eyes and mumbles a ‘yeah yeah’.

you place a headband to hold his hair back and softly say, “okay close your eyes.” he complies, his white eyelashes fluttering shut. you carefully place 2 cool cucumbers on his eyes and he sighs. he feels like a puddle, your soft touch and home-like scent invading his senses sending him into a plane of euphoria. next you grab a clay mask and a brush, gently painting his face with the gray liquid.

“how’s it feel lovey?” he hums and sighs, leaning further into the fluffy feather filled pillows beneath his head. “feels wonderful baby” you giggle and continue putting on the mask. “okay toru, gonna leave that on for 15 minutes kay?” he nods but then his eyebrows furrow.

“what am i supposed to do?” he had never been able to take a moment and put everything on pause before, the thought of having to lay still and do nothing made him a bit antsy. after placing the container that held the liquid mask in, you turn to him, “just relax baby, would you like some water kind sir?” he hears the clink of glassware and the swish of water grow closer and he smiles.

gojo satoru had never ever been pampered. spoiled rotten maybe, but no one had ever taken care of him the way you are now. sure he was praised in the highest degree in the clan, and sure he was fawned over by a broad sea of girls, both young and old. but no one had ever cared about him so deeply that his well being was always a priority. he was amazed by the thought of you caring about him so much that you would go out of your way to take care of him in a way no one else had ever done. all he could think of at the moment was how incredibly kind your heart is and how he was so fortunate enough to have ever stumbled upon your life. he was so grateful that you let him into your life. he was so grateful for you.

“i would love some m’lady” you bring the straw to his puckered lips and he smiles.

after doing 2 face masks, eye patches, your own night time routine and plucking his eyebrows, satoru finally snuggled up to you, his face buried in your chest with his arms wrapped around your torso.

“thank you for taking care of me baby, you’re the best wife a man could have ever asked for” you giggle as he peppers kisses on your chest. “of course, i love loving you. it's so easy, like breathing.”

“i love being your husband. i love loving you.” you can hear the tiredness in his voice grow with each word he says. a couple seconds later his soft snores could be heard throughout the silence of your home.

a slight continuation of this

no caller ID pops on your screen, pulling your attention away from your previous task at hand: not fucking up your eyeliner. you typically wouldn’t care if it was a little uneven, but you’re going on a date tonight, for the first time in so long, and you want everything to go as smoothly as possible.

which is why you groan when you end the call, and that same no caller ID pops right back up seconds later. you know who it is—who else would it be? you figured he’s already seen your story of being excited for going on your first date in a while, on the only app you hadn’t blocked him on. petty? perhaps, but it’s on him to be keeping up with you despite you cursing him out for wasting your time and then blocking him right after.

you watch it ring though, contemplating for a while longer than you should. you blocked him for a reason. no need to entertain his same shit that he always spews to you when he realizes that he might be losing you once more?

….but it doesn’t hurt to hear the hero beg for you.

“What do you want, Bakugou?” You sigh irritably as you finally answer his call, putting him on speaker as you go back to even out your eyeliner. You hear him huff on the other side of the phone at the use of his surname, but he doesn’t say anything about it, instead, quickly telling you what he’s been bothering you for.

“Who’s the fuckin’ loser that’s gonna drool over how good your tits look in that stupid green dress you love so much?” Bakugou grunts, and you instantly feel your face heating at his crude words. You glance over with a frown at that same green dress that makes your tits look good, where it hangs on your closet.

“None of your damn business, Bakugou.” You snap at him, wondering if it’s too late to find something else to wear. “Not like you ever took me out in my stupid green dress.” Your voice holds a level of bitterness that only he can bring out of you, and you hear his sigh through the speakers.

“I told you this before, I’m always—”

“Busy.” You cut him off, voice suddenly thick as you think back on the countless rejections he’s splattered at your feet every time you tried to further your relationship with him. “You reminded me of how busy you’ve been since you first started this whole situationship.”

“Situation—? Huh? We were dating!” Bakugou protests with a huff, and you can hear how he paces the floor quickly. You glare at your phone, setting down your liner to instead pick of your (his) favorite lipgloss.

“You’d have to ask me out to be dating, Bakugou. You’d have to court me to be dating, Bakugou. You’d have to make time for me and take me out on dates and not hide me to fucking date me, Bakugou.” You spit at him, venom dripping off of your lips in waves. You don’t know why you answered, why you even entertained him. You shake your head with a huff when the line goes quiet, eyebrows quirking up when your date sends you a text to make sure you’re still on for tonight.

“I’m sorry.” Bakugou mutters pathetically, his voice suddenly soft. You hesitate, for some reason, when it comes to texting your date back. Why do you always hesitate when Bakugou is around?

“Let me make it up to you, court you, and shit. I can take you to one of my favorite places, you can wear that pretty green dress and that gloss you know I love.” His voice is pleading, thickening and sweet and suffocating. You shouldn’t respond, should reply back a yes to your date.

“Please? You know how much you mean to me.” Bakugou mumbles, and you can hear the earnestness in his voice. Why haven’t you said yes to your date yet?

“I’ll do better this time. Just one more chance, sweetheart.” Bakugou’s voice is so soft, you’ve never heard him this vulnerable before. You sigh with a shake of your head, slumping back into your seat in defeat.

…

Sorry, I can’t make it tonight. Something came up. Maybe we can reschedule for another time?

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katsuki is king of aftercare - especially after he’s fucked his princess into quivering mess, whimpering like the overstimulated whore you are. he’ll massage your exhausted body and pat a damp cloth against your forehead before cleaning the sticky mess between your legs. all the while he’s pressing soft kisses over your warm skin, gruff praises being whispered into the sex-heavy air. carrying you around, taking baths, brushing your hair, cuddles, and lazy kisses.

but you’re also his queen of aftercare. Because it doesn’t start after sex, it starts the minute he walks through your door after a long day of Hero work. you’re at the entryway, kissing his lips and carefully taking off his mask. after he removes his gauntlets, his arms are wrapped tightly around you. your nails lightly scratch his scalp as you push his blonde spikes through your fingers and he’s practically purring.

sometimes you’d join him in the shower, taking the time to wash his hair and his body, talking to him about his day, yours, and everything in between. and when you didn’t , you make sure his towel has been freshly pulled from the dryer. you take the time to comb his hair and massage lotion into his still damp skin.

you cook in the kitchen together and share the duty of clean up before settling in on the sofa, his scarred, coarse hand resting on your lap. his favorite part of you taking care of him. you pick up the large hand and slowly begin to massage. working from the wrist, down the edge of his tough fingertips. your thumbs are ridiculously small compared to his wide palm but still you knead out the tension and take time to trace the veins on the back of his hand, knuckle to wrist. only to spoil the other one just the same. and katsuki - well your big, strong hero is putty. sunk into the couch, the quiet chatter of the latest show you’re watching together running while you shower the blonde with attention. once you’re satisfied, he shifts his head either to your breasts, finding comfort in the soft flesh, or your plush thighs. either way, he’d nuzzle against you until your started to play with his hair and scratch his scalp again. no one ever sees him like this, no one knows him like you.

but of course, this only lasts until he’s ready to fuck you into the mattress and turn you, his pretty little house wife, into a whimpering, slut.

and the cycle continues.