meel

“oh, you poor thing…” you murmur, stroking megumi’s hair. he’d been caught in the rain during the walk home yesterday, and had come down with a bit of a cold. the seven year old is curled up next to you on the couch, his head resting in your lap.

you glare at satoru when he scoffs from his end of the couch, the tip of his nose rosy and dripping with snot. “i was caught in the rain too, you know.”

“take some nyquil.”

you don’t even bother to spare his suffering a glance.

“can i have hot chocolate?” the little brat asks, his request followed by a weak cough. “my throat hurts.”

it’s almost ten in the evening, and the kid’s already brushed his teeth. there’s no way you’d say yes—

“of course! i’ll make some for your sister too.”

satoru’s mouth falls open - because he can’t breathe through his nose and because he’s shocked. “can i have some too?”

“i’ll make you tea with lemon and ginger,” you reply, carefully adjusting megumi on the couch as you get up. you even steal his blanket, draping it over the kid’s curled up form.

megumi peeks one eye open as soon as you leave, and satoru swears the smirk that follows is directed to him.

that is the cuttest shit ever 😭😭

broody, traumatized anime men with black hair are my weakness

even — ryomen sukuna x f!reader

a/n: ohoho? an argument with husband sukuna? i wonder how that will go ;) fluff ending btw so don't worry

your life as the wife of the king of curses is far from the normal married life. your husband is not like most. you knew that. he is different, rougher than your childhood tales of a prince charming.

he is sharper, grumpier, and grouchier. it was all part of the package and you knew all of that.

but, you can’t help but wish for a moment of tenderness between you and him. and while you know that sukuna shows his care differently, you also want to feel the softer side of his affecton.

that’s why when you overheard the maids talking and gossiping about your marriage, your heart was filled with fury, but most importantly sadness.

“i don’t like it”, satoru growls.

he’s sitting next to you, legs crossed, the upper one bouncing nervously in sync with his finger tapping on his knee. the frown on his face is so serious and intense that you’re pretty sure if he relaxed his features a bit you could still see the line marks between his eyebrows from furrowing too hard.

“you don’t like what?”

“the way he looks at you”

“and how does he look at me?”

“dunno. . . like he owns you or something. it’s like the way i look at you. and i don’t like it”

the audacity, he thinks. to stare at you like that while he is sitting right next to you.

“satoru.. it’s just a cat”, you sigh and keep petting the little purring beastie on your lap.

A sketch of my baby boy, I love Genya so much lmao.💜💜💜

Happy Birthday Taiju Shiba 💖🦈

cws for fem reader.

-

You would have thought that Taiju, a man nearly reaching a staggering seven foot even, and weighing well over two hundred pounds would have been better at handling his liquor, but alas.

He’s only had two mimosas and three shots, and yet he’s sprawled on the seats in the back of the car, legs sticking out of the open door as you and his younger brother try to persuade him to fully enter it so he can get in a bed to sleep off the alcohol.

“‘M no...not leavin’ yet.” He slurs, and when he makes an attempt to climb back out, Hakkai plants a hand on his chest and pushes him back down against the seats. He vocalizes a complaint in the form of an angry string of curses.

“You are. You’re pissy drunk, man.” Hakkai heaves a sigh, and you feel a tad bit guilty for him having to step out of the reception early to help with this, but it’s not as if you could have gotten the ox of a man out of there yourself.

Taiju paws at his crotch, seemingly checking if he was literally pissy drunk, and he lets out a loud sigh of relief when his fingers meet the dry material of his slacks. You can’t help the snort of laughter that leaves you, and dilated pupils dart to you at the sound.

He blinks, inhales, exhales, blinks again, and then a hard to come by smile is forming on his face, whites of his teeth showing as he lets out a low chuckle. “I like your dress.”

“I’d hope so.” Your hands smooth down the sides of it, the material fitted to your shape, and a heat settles in your cheeks at his intense stare. “It’s my wedding dress.”

“You’re married?” He sits up now, and Hakkai is too occupied with a phone call he had gotten just a few seconds ago to bother with him. Taiju’s morphs into an annoyed look, wisps of black hair falling down into his eyes that he doesn’t bother to push back.

“Yes, Taiju, for the umpteenth time, I’m married—just married.. We are literally still at the reception.” You gesture back to the building he had just been practically dragged out of, the building that hosts a slew of still partying people who were there to celebrate the newlywed couple.

Your hand is snagged, and you don’t have time to reprimand him for the roughness before he’s examining the ring on your finger. “He,” he cuts off with a pained expression and rubs at his chest with his free hand, “must be a cheap bastard with this tiny ass diamond. Leave him.” It’s not tiny in the slightest, and you had received many stares and compliments on it throughout your engagement, but you don’t bother to correct him, only raising an eyebrow at his words.

“For you?”

“Mhm,” he hums, and then he’s falling back into the car, his hand that’s still clasped around yours forcing you to fall with him. You land on his chest, a surprised yelp leaving you and an amused laugh leaving him. “Yeah, for me. Marry me.” You go to lift yourself up, but thick, muscled arms lock around your waist and keep you pinned on top of him. “Stay right here. I want you here.” He looks up at you, and the both of your gazes soften as they meet.

“I don’t think my husband would like that...he can get really jealous sometimes, and he doesn’t handle jealousy well. He might try to fight you.” Taiju looks almost offended, and you have to fight hard to keep your giggles contained when he lists off all the things he’d do to your husband if the man so much as glanced at him with anything but admiration. “Even still, I’m a married woman, Mr. Shiba, and I have to go and take care of my husband, so if you’d be so kind as to let me go that’d be fantasti—”

His lips crash against yours in a sloppy kiss, large hands moving to cup your cheeks with a gentleness that you seldom see him use, and you melt in his grasp, lashes brushing against the apples of your cheeks as your eyes close.

He pulls back enough to mumble out a request, lips brushing against yours as he speaks, and when you don’t answer due to not being able to make it out, he says it louder, clearer, with a hint of urgency laced into the words. “Marry me.”

“You want to marry me, Taiju?” He kisses you again, breathy pants exchanged between your mouths with every lock of your lips, and then he’s pulling away again to confirm.

“Yes.”

Your lips twist into a smile, the bigness of it making your cheeks begin to ache, and you peck his lips before resting your chin on his chest.

“Good, because according to your watch,” you pull his hand free from where it’s been trying to slip under your dress and check the watch on his wrist, “we’ve been officially married for a total of three hours and forty seven minutes, you absolute doofus.”