#LISTE N

[gcnpeachbeachmoved]

important to me that in the superstar saga remake luigi tied paint buckets to his feet so he looked as tall as the princess

[zipperzoo]

So I made a playlist half delirious on no sleep and I'm sharing it because rn I have no shame

[theshitpostcalligrapher]

Gävlebocken Cross Stitch

hey yall i just fuckin remembered, the only post I've got for the my Gävle Goat cross stitch pattern is that really long one with the wrong pattern originally, so here's the link to the ko-fi listing for pay-what-you-want (no minimum price) download of the pattern

The pattern looks like this:

I've only sewn the initial, less clean version myself but I'm working on getting the new design onto the aida

[kamiversee]

Not So Innocent ꨄ

[ { Synopsis } ] ➤ Your boyfriend Choso was always a freak but, your newly wedded husband Choso is ten times worse.

[ { Need to know } ] ➤This is a What-If scenario that stems from my fic; The F*ck List— A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt.

[ { Content & Warning } ] ➤ f!reader, heavy dirty talk, language, spitting, manhandling, praise, degrading, rough sex, overstim, slight cum play, filth, etc

[ { Paring } ] ➤ Choso Kamo x f!reader.

[ { Word Count } ] ➤ 3.1k

——CHOSO'S SO SWEET. Often did you hear such words during your wedding. Your friends, family-, everyone called Choso sweet and simply perfect for you.

The way his eyes lingered on yours for moments far longer than needed, how he'd find any moment to caress your hand, trace small shapes into your palm or your shoulder when he could-- he was such an attentive man. People praised him all day long for how he acted around you.

Even when you weren't around and Choso talked to the guests about you, people commented that he had such a beautiful way of describing you, how he'd explain that you were his muse and all his success in the world of art stems from you.

Choso felt like without meeting you, he may have never gotten as far in life as he did. It took roughly five years or so of dating for you to even be ready for marriage. And for a long time, Choso didn't know what it was you were so afraid of but he still waited patiently until you started to hint that you were ready.

Through those years of dating, you eventually got the whole truth from Gojo, whom you hardly think much about now but, after getting the truth-- you think that's the day you ran to Choso and started throwing out hints of marriage. Perhaps that's what'd been holding you back for so long, not knowing why things happened the way they did in college.

Hell, even after you found everything out, it took some time for you to really wrap your head around things. Part of your heart, this really small part, still longed for Gojo and for that, you felt like shit for months.

Up until you eventually poured the truth out to Choso one day. The whole truth. Every detail of the list, how it started, how it ended-, everything. Choso had responded to you saying that what you told him explained a few things...

Even so, lots had changed over the course of five years. The truth was out and you were completely free from confusion. Not only that but, not too long after Gojo confessed every detail of his truth, Sukuna released his custody over Yuji. So, of course, you and Choso were at an all-time peak of happiness.

Hence why you date the day of your wedding as the happiest day of your life. You recall every moment, every laugh, every happy tear that was shed-, everything. It was such a beautiful and peaceful day.

And Choso was so sweet— too bad that only lasted until the sunset and the two of you were off to your honeymoon destination.

Okay well, he was still sweet for that day since the two of you were a bit too tired to do much after a draining flight to where you are now. As for the next day, the first day of your honeymoon... well, Choso was...

“C’mere baby,” His deep voice, husked with hours of sleep that'd just barely faded off, filled the air of the room you were in.

Soft sunlight peeping in through the curtains, even softer sheets surrounding the two of you, clothes messily scattered to the floor-- he may not have gotten to you on the night of your wedding due to sheer exhaustion but the next morning? Oh, you couldn't get a second away from him.

You've dated Choso long enough to know that sometimes he just wakes up hard, his cock poking at your ass as you'd shift around in your sleep. It was a natural occurrence you'd gotten used to. Sometimes you both ignored it and sometimes it was taken care of immediately.

But when you just got married to this man less than twenty-four hours ago, there was no way for you to have expected him to just ignore his morning wood. Especially not when Choso's been on cloud nine ever since he saw you stroll down that aisle looking just as beautiful as the first day the two of you ran into each other.

A heavy groan pours out of your husband's mouth whilst his hands run along your body, fingertips dancing against your supple skin before he finds his rightful hold on your hips.

Cheek down against the mattress, back arched sensually, and ass up in the air-- the sudden snap of Choso's hips against your ass rips a moan from your mouth, one of many that's already left you within the past hour or so.

You'd married such a sweet man but in bed, he was an entirely different person, hence why your fingers are curling into the sheets and you're attempting to pull yourself away from him for only a second. Only to earn a grunt from Choso who tugs your hips back to him, “Don’t fuckin' runnn baby,” He sighs, a lazy smile spread across his face at the sight.

You've got a bit of drool slipping down your face, Choso's fingers are stopping you from moving too much and all you can do is take it. "M-Mmgh..." Your eyes began to water a bit as his thick cock drilled into your hole relentlessly, "C-Cho, hahh, you're s-so-"

"Big?" He finishes for you, earning a squeeze from your cunt in response. The sudden tightness makes his brows push together as he tosses his head back, "Yeah baby, you've been tellin' me that for years," He teases, "M'not gettin' any smaller, sorry princess."

His tip was so fat and angry against your insides, leaving you utter mush beneath him with how hard he was fucking his cock into you. "C-Can't stand you-, fuck." You gasp as he lands a hand onto your ass, gripping at the fat and chuckling at your words.

Then he's leaning forward a bit and angling his hips differently, drilling deeper inside you before grunting out a low, "Yeah but you can cum f'me again," Choso comments tauntingly with a smirk on his face.

One of his hands starts to travel to your back, pressing you down into the mattress before he lifts a leg a places his foot onto the bed for better leverage. If you weren't clawing at the sheets before, you damn sure are now as his throbbing cock bottoms you out.

Your jaw went slack and you were tearing up, "Ah, mgh, oh... oh fuck, Choso..." You moan, trying to collect yourself and not get too caught up in how good he was fucking you.

But how could you not? Choso was fucking you deep and hard, grunting and groaning without a care in the world while trying to hold out on painting your insides white too soon.

Then there's the way your pussy narrows around his shaft, letting him know you were close again, "See? There you go-," Choso loses his words for a moment as you start moving your hips backward to meet his thrust. You'd caught him completely off guard and it makes him choke, "Y-Yeahhh, fuck yourself on me, jus’ like that," He moans.

Choso leans up a bit just to watch you, eyes glued down on your pussy lewdly taking his cock over and over again. The sight makes him smile, as always.

"Shiit baby, you've got such a pretty fuckin' pussy," Choso praises as he tilts his head, jaw-dropping a bit at how you part your legs a bit more and arches your back further, "Fuck, princess-, fuuck... so fuckin' pretty," He stammers a bit while he continues to praise you, losing himself in the way you continuously bring yourself back on him.

His cock thrust in to match your movements, both of you fucking each other in sync. Oh how you drove Choso to the brink of insanity-- he was moving to spit down on his cock just before it disappeared inside you without a second thought, watching his saliva mix with the slick from your cunt and releasing another moan afterward.

Then Choso brings his hand to your ass again, "Baby, I complimented you, didn't I?"

You just nod stupidly, not thinking twice about what he's hinting toward, "Mmhhmm-," Choso snaps his hips forward again, pelvis clashing into you and making you whine, "F-Fuck."

Cocking his head to the side, Choso starts picking up his pace again, "What're you supposed t'say when you get compliments, huh?" He asks, tone rough with you.

His swollen cock rutted into your cervix, leading your legs to quake and your breath to escape you, "Choso-,"

"No pretty, c'monnn," He cuts off on purpose, "Where's those manners of yours, hm? Have I been too nice to you lately?" Voice dipping down into something a bit sweeter with you, your stomach churns before he's stretching you open all over again.

"Fuck... Fuck-," You gasp and your eyes squeeze shut before you're panting, "T-Thank you Cho..."

That earns a sexy smile from your husband, "There ya' go, suuch a good fuckin' girl f'me. Smart woman I've married, sayin' thank you after gettin' praised. Y'like it when I tell you how pretty y'are, hm?"

Blindly nodding into the bed, "Uhuh..." Is the most you can babble out.

And of course the sound makes Choso smile. He loves getting you to the point where you can hardly speak. Which is exactly why he’s smiling as he hums to you, "Speak up baby." Just as those words leave his lips, his cock is turning your cunt to mush, leaving you nothing more than a mindless hole beneath him.

Panting and clawing at the mattress, tears slip down your cheeks and your words come out jumbled and whiney, "Yes, Choso-, hhgnn… y-yes."

Choso puts on a pout to mock you before he scoffs and reaches a hand down to your hair, "C'mere, look at me,” He utters surprisingly softly before tugging you up by your hair so he can get a decent look at your face.

He forced your head to angle toward him and you swear he’s fucking you harder than he was before. Your pussy was sloshing all over his thick shaft, leaving where you were connected and slipping down along both of your thighs— you were a wet mess but Choso seemed to love you like that.

"Hi baby,” Your husband whispers, his eyes hanging low as he gazes into yours. Then he pouts at you again, “Aww, you cryin'? Feels that good, huh?" Choso teases. He watches the way your brows furrow and decides to go even further, bringing his free hand around your body and moving two fingers down to your clit.

Your body jumps within his hold once he starts rubbing over your clit, a strangled moan pouring out of your mouth, “C-Choso-, hahhh… fuck-,”

He just smirks, "Does it feel good when I touch you like this too?" He asks gently, as if he can’t see the clear effect his touch has on you.

You couldn’t even answer him verbally just yet— quiet mhm’s leaving your throat was the most you could manage. Your hand went over his and your nails were scratching against his arms, legs trying to draw together and your body nearly falling forward.

"Hm? I can't hear you princess,” Choso has the nerve to taunt you, “C’mon, jus' talk t'me. Tell me what you want me t'do," He instructs before pulling your body back against his.

Your mouth simply hangs open and his fingers won’t stop toying with your clit, his heavy cock resting inside you and leaving you full and lightheaded with pleasure, “…Mmh, k-keep-, nngh, g-go- oh, fuck, fuck… keep goin’ Cho… hahh, don’t stop, don’t fuckin’ stop…”

His cock aches inside you at the sound of your small whimpers in between words and your twisted-up face. Smiling, "Keep goin’, huh? You close?" Choso’s voice is sudden in your ear and you just moan into the air. “Gonna make a mess on me? Hahhh, fuck I guess I married a slut too, huh?”

You manage to meet his eyes and Choso swears he’s never seen you with an expression this lewd before. Well, he definitely has but, it still amazes him every time.

His brows push together and he groans, "I mean, look at that face-, shit,” Choso gasps. Just looking at you with a completely fucked out expression almost made him fold, “So fuckin' perfect. My perfect wife."

Your lower lip pokes out and you whine, “C-Cho…”

“Mhm, y’know you’re mine right?” He coos, leaning in to kiss the side of your neck. You huff out a sigh in response and he starts talking against your skin, “Yeahhh, my wife. My lil’ slut to ruin whenever the fuck I want, right?”

His voice grew rough all of a sudden and he started moving you around again, placing a hand to your back and forcing you back down to the bed. Then both of his hands were on your back, pressing into your arch before his hips picked up in pace.

The veins decorating his cock rubbing against your walls, cockhead digging deep inside you and making you gasp all over again.

Then there’s his voice, “Y’like that Mrs. Kamo?”

Oh you practically lose yourself right then and there— a slick mess of cum coating his dick due to one simple phrase. Choso scoffs loudly at the sight and the feeling of your pussy squeezing him like crazy.

“S-Shit, y’like your new last name, huh?” Choso huffs, sounding a bit more breathless than he did just moments ago.

“M-Mhmm, ah… mmgh-, fuck,” You bite your bottom lip for a second to get yourself together before uttering a sweet, “I love it Cho…”

He really starts to lose himself after that, mindlessly pounding into you with his jaw-dropping a bit. Choso doesn’t think he’s ever been this turned on in his life. You were his. His wife.

Fuck he was seconds from emptying himself inside of you— hell, maybe he should. Fuck you nice and full of his cum… It’s been a while since you’ve let him do so after all.

“Baby,” Choso grunts, heavy pants leaving his wet lips, “F-Fuck, m’gonna cum…” He suddenly heaves out.

So lost in the thought of cumming inside you, Choso hardly realizes how he’s drilling into you right now— the bed had begun to shake and your body was dipping down into the mattress, his cock twitching wildly inside you as it ached for release and heavy balls slapping against you with his every thrust.

The fabric below you is wet from your drool and you could hardly even whisper his name out, the sound leaving in a light squeak, “Choso.”

“Uhuh,” Choso responds mindlessly before he moans, “M-Mhmm, fuck… lemme cum inside you, princess.” He finally manages to blurt out his thoughts and it catches you off guard.

Followed by that is Choso moving a hand under you and rubbing his fingers over your clit yet again— tugging a cry from your throat, “S-Shit-, hahhh,” Your body was practically folding in on itself but his other hand remained firm on your back, keeping you in position, “Choso, fuck, Cho… mmmh-“

“Please?” He whines, “Fuck-, fuuck… baby… I need to,” Choso’s quick to beg you as he’s desperate for his release, “Needa’ stuff this pretty pussy full of me,” He babbles out before throwing his head back and groaning, “Fuuck, I wanna see it drippin’ outta’ you when I’m done. ‘Nd then stuff it right back in, make it nice and sloppy.”

His words had you cumming again before you finally agreed, nodding desperately against the bed, “Okay, mgh, okay, fuck,” You whisper.

His thrusts grow sharper and his body weighs into you a bit, “Okay, what?” Choso grunts lowly.

Just barely, you angle your head back as best you could to look at him and flash the smallest fucked out smile you could manage, “Cum inside me, Cho.”

His reaction is priceless, seed spilling into your pussy seconds after those words hit his ears— or maybe it was the way you’d looked at him, either way, he was fucking his cum into you within seconds.

Babbling as he ruts into you with mindless, almost animalistic-like thrusts, “Fuckin’ love you-, holy shit, I love you,” Is the only thing Choso could repeat as his cum spurted into you, the sound of slick growing louder and messier as he never once slowed the pace of his thrusts.

And he’s just thrusting in and out and in and out over and over again, watching that messy white ring form at his base and letting out a long groan at the sight.

“F-Fuck, say it back pretty, tell me you love me,” He huffs impatiently.

Sure, Choso knows you love him and he can clearly see how difficult speaking is for you but he didn’t care, he needed to hear it back from you anyway.

“Love you, Cho,” You whimper, “Mmmh… I love you s-so much.”

And then he’s fucking you through those very words, his body leaning over yours at this point and a moan of your name leaving his lips— followed by the faintest whimper.

When he finally calms himself, he’s pulling out with small whines escaping him. His face was flushed and he couldn’t stop panting.

Then he was moving a thumb to your sensitive folds, spreading your cunt apart to watch his cum trickle out and angling the tip of his cock against your hole just to watch his cum drip out of you and down onto his skin.

It was messy, nasty even, but didn’t care one bit. A smile was etched onto his face as he did so and you just laid there completely still for a while.

Choso was behind you toying with the mess below, enjoying himself a little too much, “Can’t get enough of this pussy, y’know…”

You scoff, “Choso…”

“I’m jus’ sayin',” He hums before tilting his head, smiling growing, “She’s so messy, I fuckin’ love her.”

You roll your eyes at the man, “Cho… please stop talkin’ about my pussy like it’s a p-person…”

“Shhh baby, I’m trying to listen t’her,” He says, completely disregarding your words as he continues to just rub his tip in between your folds. “Nasty fuckin’ girl. Y'Made such a big mess,” Choso coos. Then he shrugs and you feel him start pressing his tip into you, “S’okay though, you’ll make another one f’me, right?”

You send your husband a look, “Choso.”

“Shhh princess, don’t be rude,” He hums, smiling to himself as he doesn’t even attempt to look away from your cunt, “I haven’t even made my pretty girl squirt yet,” He comments before his smile widens, “Good thing I’ve got all day t’do so.”

Yeah, you definitely weren’t getting any more rest…

tags;

@blognicole @suguruologist @luqueam @ivoryviness @sinaxalui @rxnnie18 @carlacujo @gods-landing @bitchysouljellyfish @miles4hour @sinaxalui @annananamin @heart-snow @kiyomizzx @hanuh @acehyacinth @mccookiemonster @tojis-ball-sack @cartwheel6869 @mariluvsusstuff @addie1010 @slammynics @actualz0mbie @hisbitchhh @kay-xle @cunttee3 @voids-universe @raininglovelyfire @itsbokutosjuicyass @peaceoutbritta @barbielani @gennaray @r3inae @kfmcykdy @camiihutt @tokina @curtin81937 @hopefullydecent @nameless-shade @ureuphoriasworld @forgetfulmachine @legbouk @lilliaannn @clementineee0-0 @divinelseraph @didibxx

[eowynstwin]

i’m drooling at ur older bf price (not much else to say except when/if u ever have more thots abt him please share 🙏)

previous

You curl in on yourself after sex, sometimes. It’s a pattern Price has noticed—you’ll finish, then he will, and in the humid moments after, the shutters in your eyes will close. You won’t meet his gaze.

He’s only asked once about it, and it had been so clear that the question disturbed you that he hadn’t pressed. You’d tell him, he reasoned, when you were ready—

(And he could nudge you in that direction in the meanwhile.)

The sink is put back together, cabinet door closed. Your sundress is wrapped and twisted around your midsection, naked breasts wet with his saliva and compressed against his chest as you lay panting on top of him. His shirt is in some far-off corner, thrown aside, and his jeans are around his knees.

“That was nice,” he murmurs in your ear, kissing your hair. He makes a home for his fingertips between your shoulder blades, walking the trail of your spine, up and down, slow as a tide.

“Mm-hm,” you say, out at sea. Far away.

He can’t deny that it disappoints him. But it isn’t about him, and he shouldn’t make it so. Even if it is about him, it isn’t actually about him—it’s about something else that has attached itself to him. Things are like that more often than not—deeper, older problems with hooks, the barbed kind that sink in and cling and won’t come out of their own accord.

So he keeps kissing your hair, and he keeps stroking your back. His softened cock hasn’t slipped from you yet, and he makes no move to dislodge it. You nestle closer to him; shift your body over his, a little, just for the feeling of it. He waits for the sigh—the long, steady breath you take after the act, after you’ve found yourself again in wherever it is you go after moments like this.

“This is probably weird to talk about after sex,” you say, and Price’s ears perk up.

“Nothing weird between us, dove,” he encourages. “What’s on your mind?”

You play with his chest hair a little, twirling it around with the manicured ends of your nails. (A manicure he happily paid for.)

“You’re the first man who’s ever given a damn about me,” you mumble into his neck.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he says honestly. He kisses you again, because he wants to, and because he wants it to comfort you.

“You don’t make me feel stupid for not being able to do stuff on my own,” you continue. “My step—my mom’s husband. He used to make fun of me for, for getting confused about changing my car’s oil. Or he’d get annoyed at me. Or I’d need him to change my tires because I can’t do it on my own, and I’d call him for help, and he wouldn’t pick up the phone.”

“He sounds like a piece of work,” Price comments.

A younger version of himself would have offered to beat the shit out of the asshole. That self’s anger on your behalf sits radioactive in his chest even now—corrosive, roiling, righteous fury, ready to carve your name on whatever offal is left over after Price gets through with him.

But that would be for his own ego, not for you. That has no place here.

“Do you know—” and your voice breaks a little, “do you know how bad it feels when a man who’s supposed to look out for you treats you like you’re an idiot? Like you’re not smart enough to be worth helping?”

“Some,” he says. “It’s an awful feeling. I wish you didn’t know how it felt, dove. I’m sorry.”

He feels something warm and wet drip onto his chest, and your shoulders begin to shake.

It’s not the full-body, wracking cry of catharsis. Just an episode of something longer, something tired. A problem dealt with, over and over again—a wound that reopens sometimes, if it’s pulled the wrong way.

Price gathers you closer, wraps his arms around you tighter. He cups the back of your neck with one hand and murmurs “shhh” into your hair, soothing and quiet, squeezing you against him.

“I’m okay,” you say, a little watery. “Really, I am.”

“I know you are,” he says.

He tilts your face toward his, and kisses the center of your forehead. You meet his eyes with your own, wide and glistening with your tears.

“I’m always gonna help you, dove,” he promises, catching one that falls with the edge of his thumb. “And you can always ask.”

-

No I don’t have daddy issues why do you ask

[hinamie]

alongside someone like you

[nottsangel]

SEVEN. just the tip — bsf!theo

warnings — smut 18+. vaginal sex. praise kink.

kinkmas mlist. moodboard. more.

“theo… we really shouldn’t be doing this.” you whisper weakly, breaths coming out in uneven bursts, naked bodies pressed closely together with his painfully hard cock poking your thigh, coating your skin with precum. you feel disappointed in yourself for letting things go this far with your best friend, and you can’t help but worry about ruining the friendship.

“baby, please, i need you so bad. wanna feel you.” theo pleads, his lips frantically covering your sensitive neck with quick kisses, breathing heavily against your skin. you feel your cunt pulse at his touch, an undeniable need for him building within you, and you can’t seem to resist any more, your mind fuzzy with desire.

“how about—” theo began, his voice slightly muffled against your skin before pulling back, “how about, you know, just the tip? please? just need to feel you for a bit. that’s all i need.”

you let out a heavy sigh, feeling every last ounce of self control leave your body, before reluctantly nodding your head and slowly opening your legs further, inviting him in. a relieved and thrilled expression appears on his face, almost in disbelief that he finally gets to feel you.

“but just the tip!” you warn him, knowing that feeling him, your best friend, deeper inside of you could lead to irreversible consequences.

“mhm, mhm. just the tip, piccola. that’s all.” you feel the head of his cock nudge at your soaked entrance, his sweaty, muscular body right on top of you with his face buried in the crook of your neck, before slowly pushing the tip in and letting out a deep, guttural groan at the feeling.

“cazzo. so fucking tight.” he growls as he slowly pulls out again. he starts setting a slow but steady rhythm, fucking you as shallowly as possible, your walls desperately trying to suck him in and craving to pull him in deeper, but theo obediently fights against it— for now.

“i— i can’t.” he murmurs against your neck, his hands desperately gripping the sheets next to your head, knuckles turning white. when you part your lips to speak with confusion written all over your face, he unexpectedly pushes in so fucking deep, your eyes widening at the full sensation, until you feel his balls pressed against your skin.

“theo! what the fuck!” you gasp, his teeth now biting down on your skin to keep himself from coming right then and there, before slowly thrusting in and out of you. fuck, fuck, fuck. you know you should push him off you, tell him that this isn’t worth ruining your friendship over— but you can’t. the way his cock drags along your sensitive inner walls so deliciously, hitting all the right spots, leaves you craving for more.

“you just feel so fucking good, bella. taking my cock so well.” you wrap your arms around his neck with your heels digging into his lower back, desperately pushing him deeper into you and moaning his name so loudly, you’re certain the students in the dorm rooms next to his can hear your screams.

theo notices how tightly you squeeze around his cock at his praise, a sly, naughty smirk dancing on his lips. he suddenly pulls back from your neck, lust-filled eyes locking with yours, faces merely inches apart from each other, the cocky expression on his face causing your cheeks to heat up.

“so you have a little praise kink, huh? i’ll remember that.”

“theo! i— i don’t!”

“oh, you don’t? so if i tell you i’ve never fucked a girl this perfect ever before—who feels this good, with such a pretty face, and cazzo, those beautiful tits—you’re not gonna turn into a blabbering mess?”

“i— no, it’s… just, you’re—”

“hm. that’s what i thought. so fucking cute.”

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

reminder: reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated and keep me motivated. ty! ♡

[keferon]

Did you think I was done? Ahahahaha no, I have more.

Because chapter 70 of MOMU gave me the very dynamic between them that I missed so much, I just blacked out and started drawing uncontrollably lmao

Also. ALSO. I noticed a while ago that Prowl has the habit of..like…constantly frowning. So. I did a bit of research and made this graph.

In 70 chapters, Prowl frowns rougly 104 times. And the intensity of this gesture is very clearly correlated with the development of his relationship with Jazz, as you can see ahahahahah It might be wrong tho don’t take me seriously I’m not good with graphs

[temeyes]

answer the question sir

[acid-ixx]

(name) wayne, gagged and tied to a chair:

the villain, untying their gag: hahaha! i have kidnapped you for ransom and your father only has 5 hours left to save you by paying me!!!

(name) wayne: damn bruh my father hasn't spoken to me in 13 and a half years i don't think he's coming for me at all, better if you shoot me instead lmao cause i don't think batman would save me either

villain: ...

yan! villain, untying your ropes: welp, kidnapping is basically illegal adoption, am i right?

(name) wayne: as long as i'm fed three times a day and you read me bed time stories before i sleep then i guess that counts?

yan! villain: sweetheart, you are getting more than that.

[kreepykutieuwu]

Gay ships from video games and other media that have fanbases full of dudebros and 16-year-old boys that would get pissy about said ships are my bread and butter

[spotsupstuff]

day 15

Moon, I need you to develop arachnophobia or smth pronto and do *any*thing about your damn underhang. I can't handle it

[hazzashouse]

Forgotten - Harry Styles one-shot

A/N: Merry Christmas everyone! This one is a bit sad but I hope you’ll like it!

Summary: After Harry forgets an important anniversary, tensions boil over into a heated argument that leaves both of you hurting. Harry is forced to confront his mistakes and the cracks forming in your relationship. Determined to make things right, he sets out to prove that his love for you is stronger than his faults.

Triggers: arguments/raised voices, miscommunication and emotional tension, feelings of neglect/loneliness in a relationship, brief mention of crying and hurt feelings

Pairing: Harry Styles x female reader

Harry stepped into the house, running a hand through his hair as he closed the door behind him. It had been a long day, back-to-back meetings and calls about the tour, and all he could think about was collapsing into bed.

But when he looked up, you were standing in the middle of the room, arms crossed tightly, your expression a mix of anger and something sharper—disappointment.

His brow furrowed. “What’s wrong?”

Your gaze flicked toward the dining table, and his stomach dropped. The candles, the neatly set plates, the untouched food—it all clicked too late.

“It’s our anniversary,” you said quietly, your voice trembling with restrained anger.

“Shit.” The word slipped out before he could stop it. He ran a hand through his hair again, cursing himself. “I—fuck, I forgot. I didn’t mean to, I just—”

“Got busy?” you snapped, cutting him off. “That’s your excuse for everything, isn’t it, Harry?”

“It’s not an excuse,” he shot back, a defensive edge creeping into his tone. “You know how crazy things have been. I’m trying to keep everything together—”

“Everything except us,” you interrupted, your voice rising. “Do you even care anymore? Or am I just supposed to sit here, waiting for you to remember I exist?”

His jaw clenched. “That’s not fair. You know I love you. I’m doing all of this for us—for you.”

“For me?” You laughed, bitter and sharp. “Don’t put this on me. I didn’t ask for your schedule to swallow you whole. I didn’t ask to be forgotten.”

“Forgotten?” he repeated, his frustration bubbling over. “I’m out there working my ass off, trying to balance everything, and you think I’ve just forgotten about you? That’s not how this works!”

“It’s exactly how it feels!���

The words hit him like a punch to the gut, but he didn’t know how to respond. He wanted to explain, to make you understand how much he hated being away, how much he hated this argument. But the words got stuck in his throat, tangled up in his exhaustion.

You shook your head, tears shining in your eyes. “I can’t do this right now.”

Before he could stop you, you grabbed a blanket from the closet and headed for the couch.

“Don’t,” he said, his voice quieter now, tinged with desperation. “Don’t do this.”

But you didn’t look back.

———————

The house was silent, the weight of your argument pressing heavily on Harry’s chest. He lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying every word you’d said. Forgotten. The word echoed in his mind, a sharp reminder of how badly he’d messed up.

Around 2 a.m., he gave up on sleep, his body restless and his guilt gnawing at him. Quietly, he slipped out of bed and padded down the stairs.

There you were, curled up on the couch, your face turned toward the backrest, your body stiff even in sleep. The blanket you’d brought was tangled around your legs, barely covering you.

Harry’s chest tightened at the sight. You looked so small, so vulnerable, and it killed him to think he was the reason you were here instead of beside him in bed.

Carefully, he grabbed another blanket from the chair and draped it over you, tucking it gently around your shoulders. He crouched beside the couch for a moment, watching the slow rise and fall of your chest.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

———————

When Harry woke up the next morning, you were already gone. A note on the counter simply said, At work. See you later.

The pang of guilt in his chest only deepened. He couldn’t leave things like this—not after last night.

When you came home that evening, the house smelled incredible—like garlic, herbs, and something warm and inviting.

You stepped into the kitchen, dropping your bag by the door, and froze. The dining table had been reset, fresh candles flickering softly, and a vase of flowers sat in the center. Harry was there, standing by the stove, wearing an apron that made you bite back a reluctant smile.

“Hey,” he said, turning to face you, his expression equal parts nervous and hopeful.

“What’s all this?” you asked cautiously.

He stepped closer, wiping his hands on the apron before pulling it off. “This is me trying to make it up to you. For last night. For forgetting. For everything.”

You stared at him, your emotions tangled. “Harry, I—”

“Please,” he interrupted gently, his eyes searching yours. “Let me say this.”

You nodded, crossing your arms over your chest, waiting.

“I know I’ve been…distracted,” he admitted, his voice low. “And I know I’ve been terrible at showing it lately, but I love you. More than anything. I hate that I made you feel like you don’t matter, because you do. You’re my everything, and I never want you to doubt that.”

Your throat tightened, and you looked away, afraid he’d see the tears welling in your eyes.

“I’m not perfect,” he continued. “I’ll probably mess up again. But I want to do better. For you. For us. If you’ll let me.”

When you looked back at him, the vulnerability in his expression made your chest ache. Slowly, you stepped closer, your walls crumbling. “You really hurt me, Harry.”

“I know,” he said softly, his voice thick with guilt. “And I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if that’s what it takes.”

You let out a shaky breath, nodding as you wrapped your arms around his waist. He pulled you close, his chin resting on top of your head as you finally let the tears fall.

For the first time in weeks, you felt like you had him back.

The two of you ate dinner together, talking and laughing like you used to. It wasn’t perfect—there were still things to work through—but it was a start.

And for now, that was enough.

[bonefall]

Anyway. Bi and Mspec Lesbians aren't a hotly "debated" topic or even new to queer culture, it's just the newest thing that bullies who REALLY want to be homophobic and even racist use to justify harassing gay people they don't like.

It's the thinnest possible veneer of progressive language wrapped around TERF and reactionary rhetoric so that they can feel righteous for forming an angry mob against vulnerable targets. If you're gullible enough to fall for the newest wave of bigotry within the queer community, and turn on your allies because they're "confusing" or "invading your spaces," the SAME way they turned on bi/pan labels, trans people, xenogenders, neopronouns, and aroace people before this, then get lost.

[kamiversee]

➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

✧.* CHAPTER 44 || The Question at the End

[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?

[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language, heartwarmingly filthy smut (includes choking), fluff, & a ticklish tinge of angst.

[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 4.7k

[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.

[ [ chapters mlist } ]

——YOU WEREN’T PREPARED FOR the man that is Nanami Kento. Nope, nothing could mentally ready you for the way he eases his cock into you for what felt like hours on end, making you lose all sense of thought as he forces you to feel each and every inch and vein that decorates his member.

You don’t remember anything from when he was finger fucking you in his vehicle to now as your legs are pressed up against your chest with Nanami’s hands roughly squeezing onto the plush underside of your thighs while he stuffs you full of his girthy length.

“Fuuuck,” Nanami groaned, his hair disheveled and his eyes lustful and low-lidded as he gazed down at the flushed fucked out expression on your face. “You’re-, shit… you’re milking my cock, darling… hah, squeezing me so damn tight,”

Through the course of the list, you’ve experienced all kinds of sex but nothing quite like this. When Nanami said he fucks rough he wasn’t referring to his pace, instead, he was referring to the filth that leaves his lips and the stretch of his dick squeezing into you. It’s more of a buildup to that roughness he was referring to and you liked every second of that.

He’s a confident man, he knows how women react to his size. And as for you? Oh you felt like a virgin trying to take him in at first. Thank god for the car ride that consisted of him fingering you because you quickly realized how necessary that was.

Not only was that helpful but Nanami’s sexy voice was in your ear as he eased himself into you. He spoke so softly, so kindly, his tone laced in honey with how sweet it was as each word went straight to your core and only made his entry more slippery.

He hadn’t tied you up just yet, he’d revisit that idea later.

As he initially entered you, those soft lips of his were against your ear, saying things like, “Shhh, I know it’s big but you can take it, right?”

To which your nails would scrape against his back and your jaw would fall, leaving your mouth open with obscene moans leaving you, “I c-can’t-, f-fuuuck… ohmygod…” You whined and whined, to which he only went slower.

You’re not sure if it helped for him to go slower or if you just wanted him to thrust the rest in but either way, you were struggling.

“C’mon, that’s it, I’m almost-,” He grunts heavily, his warm breath hitting your skin, “A-Almost all the way in. You’re doing so good f’me, such a good girl aren’t you?”

You nodded weakly. He was halfway in but you couldn’t really tell. Your legs wrapped around his large muscular body and god he was a big man. His build was so damn perfect over you and his gentleness just made you melt beneath him.

“Uh-huh…” You babbled out to the man.

Nanami shifted down to the area right below your jaw and kissed you passionately before whispering to you, “You’re taking me so well, love.”

Yep, your walls suddenly clamp around his cock and Nanami lets out a moan against you.

“Kento,” You squeaked out, a whimper following his name as each inch of him was buried inside you, “You’re s’deep,” You slurred out.

Nanami nods, “Mhmm, I know… Here,” He moves a hand to grab your arm and you feel his fingers slip along your palm before they interlace with your own, squeezing your delicate hand in his own, “Hold on to me, I’ll make sure you feel good soon, okay?”

The sex was so soft and light that it had you utterly flustered. You didn’t even know what to do with yourself in a situation like this. Nanami moved so that his face was over your own and his eyes gazed so deeply into yours while he held your hand to comfort you through his hefty size.

His hips begin to draw back and you hiss when he then presses himself down into you again, the tip of his cock simply mushing into that tear-jerking spot inside you. Your delicate fingers squeeze onto his hand for dear life as Nanami works up a steady and simple pace. You were breathing so heavily and your eyes were hardly open.

Your jaw remained slack as soft moans poured from your moist lips, “M-Mmmgh… Kento,” You called, voice breathy.

The man tilts his head at you, his brows furrowed as he tries not to lose himself in the way your cunt just sucks him right back in each time he draws himself out, “Hm?” He inches his face to yours, “What is it, pretty? Talk to me.” He requested, and damn the way his voice was just as breathy as yours.

The whole situation was so hot, heavy, and intimate, far more intimate than you were expecting it to be. Your eyes dipped down to his lips and you felt his hands move your thighs farther apart before his chest pressed against yours.

“K-Kiss me,” You breathed.

Nanami chuckles, just barely, “Is that how you ask?” He groaned out slightly, his cock stretching you open as he voices his words to you.

You bite your lower lip for a moment to stifle the next whine that threatened to escape before turning your head to the side and uttering a desperate, “Please?”

The man moved his lips to your cheek, then slid over to your ear, “Look at me first,” He instructed.

Just before you get the chance to do so, his hand suddenly weighs into yours and you feel your fingers dip into the mattress a bit as Nanami holds himself up using your clasped hands. Then, his free hand comes up to your face, specifically your chin, and forces your head to turn to him.

Pleasureful tears are welling up in your eyes and you feel so embarrassed as you look at him. Nanami gives you this comforting small smile and your heart flutters like crazy.

“Please kiss me,” You say softly.

Nanami inclines himself down to you just a bit more, his warm lips brushing over your own, “Beg some more f’me,” He grunts, and you feel his dick sliding out of you a bit more than before, and he thrusts right back in moments later.

That was when things started to shift. “Please?” You’re so quick to follow his words, almost without a second thought.

He frowns to mock you, “So cute. Say it again.”

“P-Please?” You moaned this time, feeling his thick inches knock into you a bit harder than before, making you choke on air for a moment.

Then, your cunt simply floods around his cock when Nanami pushes his lips to yours, groaning out a very low and very sexy, “Good girl.”

Your lashes fluttered as your eyes closed and the kiss with Nanami was slow and firm, wet and plump lips slipping over one another before your tongues connected sloppily as his pace picked up.

You got so unintentionally loud, moaning against Nanami with little to no control over the sounds escaping your lips. His name left you like a damn mantra with the way he begins to, slowly, yet roughly drive his girthy cock into your squelching cunt.

Sounds of sex filled the air, loud as it always was, yet your moaning was slightly downed out by Nanami’s deep and guttural groans. That, along with the lewd sounds of your pussy just slobbering around his shaft.

Nanami’s lips pried from yours at some point and your eyes rolled to the back of your head when his dick simply clobbered into your gummy walls, the wet slap of his thick base to your cunt echoing throughout the room. 

“You’re one perverted girl, y’know that?” Nanami suddenly pointed out as he pushed himself up a bit. His hand releases yours and the man sits back on his heels, placing those large hands of his to your upper thighs and then giving your body a tug.

A pornographic moan is ripped from your throat as his cock is felt impossibly deeper inside you. The slight change in positioning made Nanami penetrate so much further inside you, your pussy squeezing around the man ridiculously tight as he ups his thrusts.

Your entire body twitches when his thumb is felt at your clit, rolling such slow but painfully pleasurable circles around the sensitive but.

“M-My god-,” You gasp, your back arching off the bed, “M’gonna cum, s-shit… K-Kento-,”

“Mhm,” Nanami hums, biting his lip for a moment at the sight of your breasts jerking forward with his each thrust, “I knoww,” He coos, “Cum on my cock, lemme’ feel it, darling.”

The harsh smack of his pelvis to yours as he fucked his length into you filled your ears. You couldn’t think for a moment, couldn’t see, drool was dripping down out of the corner of your mouth, and his name rolled off your tongue more times than could be counted as your orgasm crashed over you.

Your legs tried to close around him but his free hand prevented that action as it was placed on your thigh, keeping you spread open for him. Instinctively, your hand reaches down to where his thumb was driving you over the edge and you try stopping the touch, overstimulation clouding your mind.

“C’monn, don’t push me away, pretty girl,” Nanami hushes out.

His voice made the entire thing so much worse. And he knew it too, he could feel how your cunt twitches and clamps around his already slick member, knowing his tone and words made you wetter than you were.

Your hands continue to try and move his hands away from your clit, wanting just a second to try and collect yourself. That was when Nanami decided now was a good time to revisit his thoughts from earlier.

There was a previously disregarded tie lying idly on his bed not too far from the two of you. One hand remains on your clit, driving you absolutely insane as his other hand reached for the tie.

You didn’t even realize what was happening until the pressure from your clit was suddenly lifted and your hands were brought together. You let out a filthy cry of pleasure as Nanami leans his muscular body over yours, pinning your hands up and above your head.

He shakes his head at your expression and his hips just don’t stop pounding his hefty cock into you, the bed beginning to rock with his each thrust. “Kinky woman you are.” He comments, “You probably wanted this to happen, huh? S’that why you were being so disobedient?”

A slight smile pulls at the corner of your lips, the sight not going unnoticed even through your fucked out expression. “M-Maybe, ah, fuuck…” You moaned out, “B-But, haah… y-you’re the one who-, m-mmmh… wanted t-to tie me up, aagnh-, a-anyways…” You get out, your words slurred and broken due to his heavy balls slapping against your skin as he bottomed you out.

You felt a fabric wrapping around your wrists, the feeling of being restricted completely foreign to you.

Nanami scoffs and his ability to fuck you and tie your hands up at the same time genuinely amuses you. “Oh? Someone’s quite talkative now,” He teases, clearly mocking how just a few minutes ago the most you could get out was his name.

You bite your lip hard for a second, trying to keep a whimper in whilst Nanami’s hand squeezes around your tied wrists, pinning you down to the bed while he begins rolling his hips down into yours, again making you really feel his every inch and vein.

“Ha-ahh… fuck, s-shut up,” You babble out.

Nanami cocks a brow at you, “I’d love to see you try and make me.” He tests, leaning down so that his lips ghost your own, “Shut me up, go on-,”

His words cut off suddenly as you purposefully close your walls around him, using what little strength you have in you to do so. The man moans at the feeling of your pussy squeezing his cock so suddenly, completely eating his words to you.

You flash a lustful smile at him, “Mgh… You were saying?” Your words are still breathy but even so, your confidence turned the man on like crazy.

Nanami bites his bottom lip and then scoffs, “Do that again ‘nd see what happens,” He challenges.

And who were you to not accept said challenge? Again, you clench around Nanami’s dick but this time, you’re all too quickly put in your place.

He lets go of your pinned hands, pulling the tie from you as he leans up and tosses his head back with an almost annoyed groan. “I had no plans on actually fucking you like a slut but,” He rolls his head back into place and meets your eyes for only a moment, “Seems’ like a brat like you needs to be put in her place.”

The tie that’d been around your wrist is brought up to the man’s mouth as he holds it there while moving. Your body is rapidly manhandled and Nanami pulls out of you for just a moment to flip you over. He then lifts your hips and forces your back into an arch.

After which, you moan loudly into the mattress as he thrusts his cock back into you. Then, your wrists are taken into his hold again, quickly crossed over one another behind your back, and then tied together.

And if that wasn’t enough, once your hands are firmly tied together, Nanami reaches over for something you don’t see. You don’t get a chance to mentally process the way he takes his belt and moves it to loop around your neck, using that to tug your head up from the mattress as his hips beat into your ass.

Your eyes widened, air and your voice left your throat completely, and you felt so stupidly cockdrunk in what felt like seconds. Your hands were tied behind your back, and the upper half of your body was forced up by a belt that wasn’t pulling you too tight but tight enough for you to have zero control.

“K-Kento, f-fu-uck… p-please-,” You whimpered as you felt his massive tip just pound into your sweet spot, making your eyes cross in lust.

Nanami scoffs and tugs you back enough so that he can speak into your ear, “Please what?” He grunts, “I thought you wanted me to shut up?”

His voice is so damn low now, almost lower than before? It’s husked in arousal and you could feel his cock twitching inside you.

“M’sorry,” You whine, “Ohfuck, f-fuck… Kento, mmmh… m’cumming, s-shit-,” It came so unexpectedly, your release coating his member in a messy slick as he fucked you from behind.

He chuckled suddenly and your eyes rolled back when he suddenly moved his free hand to shove two fingers into your mouth, “Give it to me, love,” He whispered so sweetly despite his hips crashing into yours so angrily.

Your jaw just fell and his fingers dove deeper into your mouth, drool and spit leaking out your mouth as you moaned and groaned around his thick digits. Your entire body spasmed and twitched as instead of just experiencing an orgasm, a different, but familiar, sensation takes over and you squirt unexpectedly.

Nanami groaned deeply against your ear, “Fuuuuck… You-, mgh… hah, messed’ up my sheets, pretty girl,” He points out, as if the fabric wasn’t long since soiled since he brought you into the bedroom.

You couldn’t respond to him. Your legs were shaking, an airy whine was leaving your lips, your throat trembled as the sound left you, and your eyes squeezed shut. Nanami let up on you after that.

His fingers leave your mouth, you choke out a staggered exhale, and his hand releases the belt, allowing your body to go forward and limp in front of him. His hands then find comfort on your hips and his thrusting slows only a bit to give you a moment's rest.

You’re moaning weakly into the sheets and your tied hands are trying to reach back and feel the man. Nanami, feeling pity for you, grabs ahold of one of your hands as he continues to stroke your insides juust right.

“Did’ so good for me, darling.” He praises, “So fuckin’ good.” His words left him in pants and you could tell you weren’t the only one feeling drained.

You found the strange sense of comfort wash over your body whilst he slowed his thrusts but kept holding your hand. While his thrusts grew slower, they also grew harder. Slow and harsh jerks of his hips into your ass just made you so dumb, his well-defined pelvis felt clashing into your ass over and over and over.

His stamina was top-notch, something you could hardly keep up with anymore.

“K-Kento… mmmh… s-so-, oh… s’deep…” You mumbled into the bed, missing the way he smiles softly at your fucked out state.

Nanami shrugs a bit, “Could’ go deeper if you want.”

You shook your head no amusingly fast. “N-No, you’re… aah… you’re de-eep enough…” Your words were coming out in broken moans and a tear slipped out of your eye as you simply took what he gave you.

The man chuckled, “Uhuh, I bet I am…” He mocked.

You wish you would have argued with that but your brain was too fuzzy with lust, arousal, and satisfaction that you couldn’t think straight. 

Nanami took his other hand that wasn’t holding yours and placed it on your ass, spreading you apart slightly so he could get a good look at the mess you’ve made of his cock. The sight was like no other, it made his breath hitch.

“Shit,” Nanami cursed, “Such a messy girl…” He points out, then tosses his head back as he feels you pulse around his shaft. “You’re gonna make me cum if you keep-“

You move slowly, with the last of your energy to force your hips back to meet his heavy thrusts. Then, you turn your head and meet Nanami’s gaze.

Good lord that man was sexy. He was sweaty, his eyes were so low and clouded in this dazed stupor, lips parted with pants leaving him, and his abs were so clearly tensed.

His thrusting slowed and slowed until he came to a half-stop, watching the way you fucked yourself back on him. Nanami lets out a grunt, then a groan, like a really deep pussy-throbbing groan that let you know he was close. That, and you felt him grasp onto your hand tighter, his mouth shutting as he grits his teeth and furrowed his brows.

Even fucked out, if there’s one thing you still knew how to do, it was how to have lazy sex (Choso was to thank that for that). You rolled your hips as you continued your movements, feeling his cock glide in and out of you so smoothly.

Nanami lets out a moan and then suddenly grabs onto your hips, quickly pushing you so that his member slipped out of you before allowing himself to cum on your ass.

Somewhere deep deep down inside, you wished he came inside you but, you knew you needed to start being more careful. You’ve had sex with too many men to simply let the majority of them cum inside you. In the chance that you were to get pregnant, you wouldn’t want to have to go through the stress of figuring out whose it is.

That thought aside, Nanami was quick to untie your wrists and then lean his body over yours. You pushed yourself up just barely using your elbows so that your faces could meet and it seemed like you both had the same thing in mind, moving to share a sweet and sensual kiss.

You felt as the bed dipped a bit on your left side, Nanami’s right hand going to caress your obviously tired body as he kissed you.

When he pulls away, his eyes are gentle on yours, “You did so good for me,” He whispers.

Those words make you smile sleepily, “Did I?” You murmur back to the man.

He nods, “Mhm,” He then gives you another peck, “Now that that’s done,” Nanami shifts to kiss your forehead and then leans away from you, “Let me clean you up.”

In no world would you have been allowed to protest against that as Nanami was quick to move to act on his words.

In terms of aftercare, you think you’ve experienced the best of the best but… Nanami is just…

Well, you’re not sure any of the men you’ve dealt with have not only given you a bath but also massaged your feet as if they were a damn professional. Then, if that wasn’t enough, Nanami didn’t even allow you to lift a finger for the remainder of the night.

He asked if you wanted to stay or if you wanted him to take you home and after you settled on the first option, Nanami not only insisted that you sleep in his bed but also made sure you were completely taken care of.

Before allowing you to drift off to sleep, he offered you tea, meds, and even food-- all of which you sleepily denied, telling him you’d be fine until the morning. He then insisted that you take at least one of the offered items, to which you settled on the tea.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Nanami was such a caring man. Perhaps in another life…

No, you’ve got enough drama on your own. You don’t need to add a third man to that list-

Speaking of lists…

That’s…

That’s it.

It’s over. The list of people Gojo Satoru blackmailed you into seducing to clear his debt is complete.

As this information renders to you, you are now sitting up in Nanami’s large bed, the man sitting not too far from you flicking through channels on the big flatscreen TV as you sipped on the tea he’d given you.

After today… You could just run to Choso.

Or…

Or Gojo.

You blink at your own thoughts. 

Or Gojo? What the hell? Since when was he an option? Despite you being conflicted, thinking about running to either of them to live some kind of happily ever after makes your heart feel all fluttery.

You sit back a bit, resting against the pillows behind you and you drink more of the given tea. Then, a sudden thought sparks.

“Kento,” You call, your voice as delicate as ever.

He finds some channel and when you look over to him, you notice he’s wearing reading glasses. He really is stupidly attractive without trying.

Nanami turns to you, “Yes? Everything okay?”

You grin, “Mhm, everything’s fine. I just uhm…” You swallow, “Can I ask you something.”

His eyes spark in curiosity, “Of course.”

You glance away from him, “Uh, you know who Gojo is, right?” Why did your question come out so dumb? You don’t know, you’re tired and you wanted to see if you could get even the slightest answer about that debt of his.

Nanami quirks a brow, “Gojo, as in, Gojo Satoru? Gojo the walking headache Satoru?” He grumbles.

You giggle, “Yeah, him.”

“Yes, I know him, why?” The blond asks.

You let out a sigh. There’s no reason you can’t ask Nanami about the debt right? With that thought, you look at him, “Does he owe you anything?” You ask vaguely.

Obviously, you know the answer to that since Gojo said he’s in debt-

“Owe me anything?” Nanami echoes in a confused manner, “Like what?”

Think, think, think, think-, “I mean like, does he owe you any favors?” You manage out.

“Why?” The blond deflects.

It was odd he didn’t answer the question just yet. Was he hiding something or was he truly confused?

“W-Well, Satoru owes me something so I was curious if he uh, owed things to a lot of people,” Yep, that came straight out of your ass.

You’ve gotten way too good at lying. Choso might not like that-

“No,” Nanami says.

Silence followed his answer.

No? Your brows furrowed and you chuckled, “No? No, what?” You murmured, acting as though you were questioning.

“You asked if he owed me anything, right?” Nanami shrugs, “The answer is no, Gojo doesn’t owe me anything. But I’m not surprised someone like him owes you something,” He jokes.

You just blink.

Did you hear all that correctly?

What…

What the hell does that mean??

If Gojo doesn’t owe Nanami anything, why the fuck did you just sleep with him? Well, it’s not like you regret it or anything, the sex was great but…

What the fuck is going on??

Nanami suddenly snaps his fingers, “You alright?”

You blink out of your thoughts, “Y-Yeah. So wait,” You return to your questions, “Satoru’s not in debt with you or anything?” You ask, receiving a confused stare from Nanami. To make yourself not seem weird, you quickly add on, “L-Like he is with me?”

Nanami laughs a bit, “I’m afraid not. I wouldn’t even allow Gojo to owe me anything, he’d never pay it back knowing him. Even so, is everything okay with you and him? Do you need help getting him to pay the debt he owes you-“

“N-No,” You unintentionally cut off, “Sorry, thanks for offering to help but uhm,” You turn your head to face forward, losing yourself in deep thought, “I’m fine. I’ll uh, figure things out with him myself.”

Nanami gazes at you for a long moment and then he brushes the topic off, turning back to the TV.

You, on the other hand, have never been this damn confused in your life. Why… Why would Gojo make you sleep with Nanami if he doesn’t owe him anything?

What if… What if Gojo really is just an asshole after all? What if you just forgot who the hell that man was?

You must have.

Yeah, you forgot. This is the same man who’s threatened you numerous times. You’ve been blinded. You forgot why Gojo really said he was doing this to you.

Forget the debt of his.

Forget those stupid and bullshit lies of him claiming to love you.

Fuck his stupid ass tears and confessions.

Screw this damn diamond necklace that still lay around your neck at this very moment.

Fuck Gojo Satoru.

That’s the same man who said from the very beginning…

He only started the list, because he was bored. How’d you forget? To him, it was all just a fucking game, remember?

‘And what better entertainment than watching Shoko's roomie get slut-shamed by the whole school?’ You forgot about that.

Your heart caves in your chest and you feel this twisted and burning feeling well up inside you. Before you settle on hating Gojo again, you want clear and direct answers.

R-Right?

Shit. You can’t stop the flashing and haunted memories of his sobbing. Why would he cry like that if this was all just a game to him? Does he just regret it that bad? Did he want you to feel sorry for him?

Shit. You hate this. You want to cry and scream at the same time. 

Replaying his soft words makes your heart ache. No matter what happens, even through death, my heart will always beat for you.

But then, replaying his other words brings anger to your veins. I want the whole school to see what a fucking slut you are.

So…

Which statement is the real Gojo? Which words poured from his lips hold the truth? 

Does he actually love you or… have you just been a pawn in his fucked up little game all this time? A piece to his twisted puzzle? Or, the missing fragment to his fractured heart?

What is it that you symbolize in the eyes of Gojo Satoru?

Now that the list is over, you’re left with two final options.

A. Demand Gojo to explain himself even though the chances of that being successful are slim to none.

Or;

B. Forget Gojo, free your mind, & run to the man who’s freakishly devoted to you; Choso Kamo.

The choice was yours.

GOJO SATORU ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

GETO SUGURU ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

TOJI FUSHIGURO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢

KAMO CHOSO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙎𝙚𝙢𝙞-𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢 / 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

ZEN'IN NAOYA ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙭𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

ITADORI SUKUNA ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙎𝙚𝙢𝙞-𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮???

NANAMI KENTO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙃𝙖𝙧𝙙

mlist || previous chapt || next chpt

tags;

@blognicole @suguruologist @luqueam @ivoryviness @sinaxalui @rxnnie18 @carlacujo @gods-landing @bitchysouljellyfish @miles4hour @sinaxalui @annananamin @heart-snow @kiyomizzx @hanuh @acehyacinth @mccookiemonster @tojis-ball-sack @cartwheel6869 @mariluvsusstuff @addie1010 @slammynics @actualz0mbie @hisbitchhh @kay-xle @cunttee3 @voids-universe @raininglovelyfire @itsbokutosjuicyass @peaceoutbritta @barbielani @gennaray @r3inae @kfmcykdy @camiihutt @tokina @curtin81937 @hopefullydecent @nameless-shade @ureuphoriasworld @forgetfulmachine @legbouk @lilliaannn @clementineee0-0 @divinelseraph @didibxx

[lightseoul]

CHAPTER 2 | ALL OUT OF LUCK

w.c. 3.8k

tags. fem!reader, pro-hero!katsuki, aged-up (26), some cussing, adult themes (not smut lol) (yet) (jk) (unless...), the mission finally starts, so much plot from here on out y'all so buckle up

a/n. i didn't get to include the most important bits that were supposed to be presented in this chapter because i got carried away with the buildup lol. exciting times ahead y'all. i have so much in store for you with this series. don't be a stranger and let's talk!

links. masterlist, ao3 (coming soon)

You can only stare back at the woman peering at you, her face painted with a thick layer of makeup, her hair styled to staged ‘effortless’ perfection, and her body wrapped in an outfit that’s equal parts provocative and refined.

Her image is so flawlessly curated—so much so that you barely notice the apprehension that’s hidden amidst her features, if it weren’t for the fact that that woman is you.

You can barely recognize yourself—and perhaps that’s the point of all this.

Asahi and Moriyama didn’t have to explicitly state it yesterday—they need you to put in every ounce of effort to make sure that you succeed, and that includes doing everything you can to supplement your quirk all the while keeping your real identity lowkey.

Even if it means looking like this.

You’re about to give in to your second thoughts and change out of the black, low-cut tank and beige cardigan you have on when an array of knocks echo from what you think is your front door, and you freeze.

With a cautious glance at your bedroom’s wall clock, you think you’re supposed to feel a wave of relief wash over you when you see that it’s 9:00 PM on the dot, the exact time Bakugou said he’d pick you up, which means no villain or mal intentioned person is at your front porch, but that doesn’t come.

Instead, the sense of dread that’s been stirring in your gut ever since you got swept by Asahi’s men yesterday only magnifies, leaving you a bit cold and…are you shaking?

You don’t get to dwell on that, though, because another round of rapping resonates from your foyer again, which somehow pulls you out of your nervous stupor. You hurriedly run to the door, not even bothering to check through the peephole, opening it with a turn of the knob to see Bakugou.

Wearing a white face mask and decked in a fitting black hoodie, with his ash-blonde hair peeking through the sides of a dark baseball cap.

His fist is frozen mid-air as he stares at you, eyes slightly widened in shock, as if he didn’t believe you’re capable of this thing called punctuality. He promptly brings it down, though, schooling his expression into a neutral one, but not before giving you a quick once-over.

“Hey,” he offers, voice gruff and way lower than you remembered it back in high school.

“Hello,” you counter, looking back at your messy apartment out of habit. “I’m almost done. I just need to grab my purse.”

And, because you genuinely need to know for the sake of what you’re about to do, you ask: “Do I look okay?”

He must’ve not been anticipating that question, because his eyebrows furrow ever so minutely like you just caught him off guard. “Yeah,” he eventually replies after studying the entire length of your body once again.

And, you may have just imagined it, but you swear to god his eyes linger on your chest for a beat longer than necessary before he meets your gaze.

“You clean up…” he pauses, like he’s grasping for the right adjective, before settling with: “…decent.”

At that, you feel yourself deflate a bit. Maybe you wanted a more affirming answer, definitely not because you want that from him, but because you need to look good. However, if there’s anything the rumor mill told you back when you were still teenage students, it’s that Bakugou Katsuki was a man of few words when he was serious, let alone appreciative, so you take his comment in stride.

Besides, in comparison to how you looked yesterday, anything is an improvement, really.

“Thanks,” you respond, and you debate for a second whether or not to say the next thing but ultimately decide on it. “…And you look mildly disguised.”

That seems to ruffle Bakugou’s feathers. “Mildly?”

You shrug, suddenly feeling unsure about your honesty. “I get the hoodie and the cap and the face mask, but there’s no hiding your hulking frame, man.”

And really, there isn’t. How are you supposed to conceal a torso as large as that?

You gesture to his chest and shoulder area for further emphasis. “I don’t think you can pass up as a regular citizen but like as a non-descript athlete, maybe?”

To your dismay, Bakugou merely grunts before shaking his head. “This’ll work.”

Apparently already over your suggestion, he glances past your shoulder as he shifts his weight on his other foot. “Can you grab your purse now? We’ve to get going.”

Now, you’ve got half a mind to argue and try to convince him that maybe going for a better disguise is better in the long run but you’re silenced by his domineering gaze. So instead, you nod before rushing back to your bedroom and grabbing the bag you already prepared beforehand, as well as your phone that’s charging on top of your bedside table.

Although it won’t be of much use later, or in the coming few weeks, if everything goes according to plan.

“Ready?” he asks when you return to the doorway with your things in tow.

“Yup,” you retort as you lock the door behind you, and just like that, you’re well on your way to a potential death sentence.

You’re in the elevator going down to the ground floor by the time he speaks up again. “We’re commuting,” he starts, not looking at you but instead scrutinizing the barely hanging on floor buttons. “Can’t risk raising suspicion by driving there.”

“Where are we going, exactly?” you ask just as the elevator dings, signifying your arrival.

The doors burst open, and he steps out. “You’ll see.”

The commute to wherever the hell it is you two are going is quiet.

Bakugou didn’t divulge any further details as you stepped out of your building, wordlessly ordering you with a stern look to just follow. Frankly, you don’t like how you’re being kept in the dark, but you don’t contend. You’re acutely aware that you have a limited number of cards to play with Bakugou, and you have to play them right, if you want to even survive this mission without your partnership falling apart and jeopardizing the entire thing. Wasting a card on stupid information would be downright foolish on your end.

Even the walk to the bus stop is silent, and so is the entire ride. Despite it being quite late into the evening, the vehicle is still somewhat crowded, which you chalk up to it being a Friday night. You find yourself relaxing in your seat as the realization dawns on you—perhaps there was no point in getting too riled up about getting noticed.

And besides, you’re taking extra precautions, too. You’re not sitting next to each other, because he’s trying to stave off attention while you’re straining to catch it. Maybe not of these strangers, but of the people you’re going to meet later on.

Roughly 10 minutes and a short subway ride later, you climb up the underground stairs to a stop you vaguely remember hearing from your coworkers about. You recall how she described an old party district right in the middle of Musutafu, and sure enough, the text on the street signs match the name she recounted during one of your lunch breaks.

“Over here,” Bakugou calls out from a few feet ahead of you. You quickly quit your observing and follow suit, mindful of keeping an appropriate, not at all questionable distance between the two of you.

After what felt like walking five blocks from the subway, you see Bakugou halt and make a left into a poorly lit alleyway. You hesitate for a second, having been on autopilot and going straight for the last how many minutes. You’re able to swiftly gather yourself, though, steering in the same direction.

The moment that you do, it instantly registers to you that you’re not just in the party district anymore. If the dingy signages and the palpable seediness of the alley are any indication, you’re most likely in the red-light district now.

Suddenly, everything feels a bit too real, and you barely catch yourself stumbling back on your feet. This doesn’t go unnoticed by Bakugou, who instinctively moves to reach out for you from where he’s standing. He pauses, though, when you’re able to regain your bearings with a slightly embarrassed smile.

“Sorry,” you offer meekly.

He eyes you with the very same inexplicable expression from before. “You good?”

You’re not about to tell him you’re scared shitless, so you give him a half-hearted nod. Turning to study the exterior of the small building, you take in the lightly peeling paint and the booming music emanating from it. “This the place?”

“Yes,” he answers without missing a beat. “Are you sure you’re good?”

You whip to look back at Bakugou, who, if you didn’t know any better, is now looking apprehensive.

You decide then and there that you have to get your shit together.

Bravery is contagious, but so is fear.

For a second, you contemplate using your quirk on yourself to calm your nerves down, but eventually decide against it. There are much bigger fish to fry tonight, and what’s the point of learning all those damned breathing and grounding techniques if you’re not going to use them?

“I’m ready,” you finally tell him after a moment of both of you standing there. “Let’s go in before we start looking unusual out here.”

If Bakugou notices the unease you’re sure you’re radiating, he doesn’t comment on it. Instead, he gives you a curt nod, before turning to open the door.

And when he does, you’re almost instantaneously flooded by the music that was just escaping through the cracks and crevices of the run-down building. You fight the instinct to cover your ears as you step into the large room behind Bakugou, eyes quickly darting all over the place to drink in the scene before you.

Right in the back of the space is a stage that extends in the center as a runway to the middle of the room. The orange and pink mood lights illuminating the area are relatively dim minus the bulbs lining the set and walkway. And, beneath the elevated platform are what have to be pleather seats littered all over the floor—all of which are occupied by decidedly rambunctious men.

You resist the urge to wrinkle your nose as their boisterous laughter fills your ears, opting to face Bakugou instead.

“Hey,” you call out to him, who stops in his tracks to look at you. You sneak a glance at the people at the bar nearest the two of you, just to make sure they’re not listening in, before you continue. “Are you sure this is the place?”

You don’t have to peek beneath his mask to know he’s now scowling at you.

“What am I, a dumbass? I told you, this is it.” He then shifts away from you, far enough that you barely hear his next words. “…It has to be.”

Well.

That’s not exactly comforting.

Your discomfort only heightens when the already faint lights dim further, and the music switches from a pop song to which you know a bit of the lyrics to a rap that, if you were to base it on the first phrase, is all about having explicit, unprotected sex. The crowd of men cheers in anticipation, and as if on cue, a woman dressed in nothing but a two-piece lingerie emerges from the back of the stage, confirming your speculation of what the place is.

A strip club.

You watch as the woman confidently struts towards the center, and apparently, you’re no better than any of the men here because your gaze slowly roves over her slim and toned body, eyes catching at her cleavage that’s leaving nothing to the imagination. You can’t help it—you look down at your own chest, sinking in disappointment at the contrast before promptly looking up in embarrassment, only to find Bakugou studying you closely.

“It’s a strip club,” you blurt out, flustered at getting caught in the act. His eyes only narrow in a way that tells you what you’re already telling yourself: Thank you, Captain Obvious.

Bakugou doesn’t say anything, much to your relief, only moving to the far corner of the room where there are miraculously two seats unoccupied. You follow him with no further questions asked, plopping in the chair to his right, thankful you’re wearing black trousers so that your skin doesn’t have to go into contact with the sticky furniture.

You take the opportunity to clock the rest of the room, cataloguing the bar at the other end of the area near the entrance where a barista is swiftly taking and making orders all at the same time, while the men seated on the stools struggle to decide whether to look at the man or at the stripper now performing an elaborate dance around the pole. Amidst the decorated wall adjacent to the bar is a door with a restroom sign on it, and you squint just enough to see it’s only one stall for everyone. You make a mental note to hold in your pee, at least until you get out of here.

And, because you’re feeling nice, you shift to regard Bakugou with a good-natured smile on your face. “I hope you peed right before leaving your house.”

“What?” he says loud enough for you to hear him over the noise they’re calling music. “I can’t hear you.”

“Shit, right.” You lean in ever so minutely, and Bakugou mirrors you. You try to ignore the new-found proximity. “I said,” you repeat, with a little more volume this time, “I hope you peed right before fetching me. I bet the toilet’s filthy as shit.”

To your delight, not that you’d admit that to him in this lifetime, Bakugou smirks at your little quip after confirming the lone comfort room with his own eyes.

“Don’t worry about me, princess,” he starts, and you stiffen at the nickname, “I’m not the one who has to sit on one.”

You’re about to retort with something along the lines of what if he has to poop out of the blue, or at least try to, because the pet name has you gagged against your better judgment, when a ridiculously tall man clad in all black appears out of nowhere, startling you.

“The f—”

“Dynamight,” the behemoth of a guy cuts you off, eyes trained on the pro-hero beside you and completely ignoring your presence. “We’ve been expecting you.”

“Took you long enough to approach me,” Bakugou sneers, oozing with the confidence you can’t find within yourself right now. “I hate sleazy places like this.”

To that, the man only bows his head slightly, face solemn but devoid of remorse. You watch him as his eyes finally drift to you, albeit for only a split second, before looking back at Bakugou. “Follow me, sir.”

The ash blonde does so, perhaps a tiny bit begrudgingly, and you speedily get up along with him. The two men turn to move, and you’re about to take a step closer towards their direction when a long arm shoots up in front of you, keeping you in place.

Any protests die in your throat when you look up and see the guy’s menacing glare.

“If you don’t mind,” he grits through his teeth, “Only Dynamight is needed.”

“She’s with me,” comes Bakugou’s commanding tone. You chance a glance at the pro-hero, whose countenance is so serious you’d be afraid if you were the one he’s talking to.

“But, sir—”

“It’s the two of us or we’re leaving,” Bakugou demands.

The two engage in a stare down which you witness for what feels like a few minutes before the man finally looks away, frustration etched across his intimidating features. He glares at you once more, as if you’re the one who’s insisting on being Bakugou’s plus one, and you’re about to be convinced that he’s mentally chanting a spell to make you disappear when he gestures for you to follow him with a flick of a head.

You gradually release the breath you didn’t know you were holding as you shadow them as they enter one of the doors on the wall perpendicular to where you were just stationed. It leads to a staircase that swerves in the middle, and you lock eyes with Bakugou as he makes the turn ahead of you. Neither of you says a word, opting to keep on trailing the man, even as you land on the second floor, which looks more and more like a prostitution den.

Once again, your conjecture is confirmed as you walk down the hallway and past several sets of doors on both sides, from which emanate a cacophony of sensual moans and groans. You wonder what Bakugou’s thinking right now, although you can’t get a read on him as you can only observe his backside.

Finally, after what seems like a tortuous eternity, the man stops right in front of the door at the end of the hallway, and you pause right behind him.

He looks back at Bakugou and you with what you’re pretty sure is caution, before knocking on the door twice, and then another two times but in rapid succession.

“Come in,” is what the muffled voice on the other side says.

And so you do.

You’re not entirely sure what you were expecting, because you’ve never actually been in a service room before, but you at least anticipated a bed on which certain…activities can be done.

But what you’re met with instead seems to be a refurbished lounge room with floor-to-ceiling brick walls, black and red quilted couches, and a bar at the far side all lit up with moody orange lighting.

And smack dab in the middle of it—sprawled so languidly all over the furniture—are three individuals.

Three individuals who immediately look at Bakugou.

It’s them, alright. You don’t need your extensive training in reading people to know that these are the ones you came all the way here for.

You quickly take note of their appearances. The seemingly old man who has to be in his late 50s is seated—quite relaxed—in one of the scarlet solo chairs. He’s slim, bordering on frail, but the glint in his eye as he peers at Bakugou tells you that it’d be unwise to rule him out as one of your main threats.

Juxtaposing his age which is further revealed by his shoulder-length salt and pepper hair is the young woman plastered on the couch adjacent to his.

Or maybe ‘woman’ is a bit too generous…

It’s not obvious at first glance, but you immediately notice how some of her body parts appear to be outright robotic in the literal sense. Perhaps it’s her long, pin-straight, jet-black hair that softens her entire look, but there’s no mistaking what seems to be an artificial left eye, a metallic right arm, and angled, silver lips. She’s wearing long pants so there’s no telling which other parts of her are made up of what you think is steel, but the ones visible to you already tell you enough.

And then there’s the third and last man, who, in comparison to the other two, is remarkably…plain.

There isn’t an air of age-induced wisdom around him, nor is there anything peculiar about his body. He looks like just about any other 40-year-old-ish Japanese man you know, with short black hair, an unassuming face, and semi-formal clothes that are quite loose on his not-buff but not exactly thin body either.

But to your surprise, it’s him that the hilariously huge guy from earlier directly reports to.

“Pro-hero Dynamight, sir, as you requested. And…” the ‘escort’ trails off, and for a split second, you feel kind of sorry you’re here and making things complicated for him. “…he brought company.”

“Finally,” the plain-looking man pipes up from his seat, and even his voice is generic. “And here we thought you were never going to come meet us.”

Placing what suspiciously looks like a glass of whiskey on the table in front of him, the man shifts to fully regard Bakugou. “I see that you’ve deciphered the messages we’ve been sending you?”

“No shit,” comes Bakugou’s blunt response, and for a beat, you seriously consider using your quirk on him to make him calm the fuck down.

You decide against it.

To your chagrin, he drones on. “Y’all gotta do better. That was barely even a code.”

At that, the old male barks out a laugh while the plain-looking man only chuckles. “Of course, we expect nothing less from the #2 pro-hero. But…” the latter trails off, eyes finally landing on you. You quickly put on the most endearing smile you can muster, suddenly regretting not touching up your makeup upon sitting earlier. Thankfully, though, he smiles back, before redirecting his focus back on Bakugou.

“I see you brought precious cargo. Is there any reason why she’s here with us?”

“We want in your organization,” Bakugou replies without hesitation. “The both of us.”

And when none of them say anything in response, Bakugou presses.

“You need me, right? I heard you’re planning an attack. I want to join.”

“Yes,” the old man finally speaks up, not even denying it yet his voice is riddled with misplaced humor. “We do, in fact, need you. But what use do we have of this girl?”

“She’s got a useful quirk,” Bakugou supplies, before turning to look at you and then back at them. “Luck. She boosts the success rate of anyone she works with.”

“Luck?” the old geezer says back so incredulously, you feel your eye twitch in annoyance. If he only knew what you were fully capable of. He can’t, though, if you want to get out of this entire situation alive. “I don’t think we’ll need that as long as we have you, boy.”

“Well, tough luck,” spews Bakugou, a little bit too sarcastically for your comfort. “Because, as I’ve told your little lackey here,” he gestures to the definitely not little guy from earlier, “It’s both of us or I’m out.”

“The both of you, huh?” muses the plain-looking man who’s seeming to be more and more like the leader of the group by the second.

Once again, silence envelopes the room when none of them utter a single word, with you and Bakugou watching in anxious (you) and impatient (him) anticipation. You observe their facial expressions as they have a wordless exchange, and judging by how the ancient and the robotic girl are looking at the ordinary man, you guess your hunch about him is right.

Eventually, they appear to reach an agreement, and the leader adjusts just enough to look at the both of you directly.

You brace yourself with bated breath.

He flashes you a modest smile.

“It’s a deal, then.”

˖⁺‧₊ as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are appreciated <3 feel free to drop an ask, too—i'd love to chat with you. have a nice day!

tagging. @bunnysaursushii @yawnzzzzzzzz @cholios @kashee-h @iluv-ace @lotuslovers @elarakive @sugurusmoon @napbatata @k0z3me @h0ngh0ngh0ng @honeyoru @yoongiwithglasses | @junehasnotbeenfound @sugalarity @haechansbbg @sikuthealien @reiniella3 @ita606 @xoxoblueyy @mutsu422 @eyesforbkg @kalulakunundrum @venus-xxoo @lemuhr @pinkpantheris @ashers-playpen @bakugouswh0r3 @certaindreampost @3ve88 @tsumuus @4acoffee @anonymity-222 @lousypotatoes | @matchat3a @harryzcherry @h0nestly-though @cc1306 @gold24fish @bakukags @zennypiee @wannabewolf @kameko-ko @lovra974 @arc6021 @kooromin @surprisemodafakas @ilovedenk-i @st4ntwic3 @j1tterbugaboo @call-memissbrightside @arael-asuka @bakugosgothhoe