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kakujis · 6 months

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ALL I WANTED WAS YOU.

and when the world treats you way too fairly... well, it's a shame i'm a dream.

synopsis: a break up is nothing, not when the two of you are sworn to be together. satoru thinks you just need a little reminder.

warnings: dark content. ageless blogs + minors DNI. afab!fem reader, sub!reader, yandere!satoru, switching povs at times, possessive behavior, dubcon, recording, dacryphilia, cheating (not on gojo), somno, praise, manipulation, gaslighting, mind break(?), begging, fingering, oral f!receiving, choking, pussy slapping, creampie, masochism (reader), tiny bit of man handling and hair pulling. he is mean AND whiny. he literally sniffs u at one point lol. you wear makeup. implied multiple rounds.

ft + wc: gojo x reader, around 5.2k

@enchantedforest-network

an: hi, so like months ago (as all my wips start) i had this idea for toxic!ex bf gojo which delved into yan gojo LOL. he is so hard to write... like wtf... so anyway this was been rotting away since september!! i think i did lose my mind just a little bit writing this ngl LMFAO. idk if i really leaned that heavily into the yan, but we are going to truck along and post this anyways. thanks for waitin'. also, thank you to dooby and sky for both proofreading and giving me some ideas to push through, @sxgars for the banner, and my brain/fingers for not giving up.

gojo satoru still remembers the day you left, eyes puffy and face streaked with makeup as you stormed out of your shared apartment. in gojo’s mind, it was fine, you’d be back. no matter how big of a fight, you always came back.

but it’s been months now of you ignoring his calls and texts, avoiding him whenever you see him. you’ve even blocked him on some of your social media platforms since he can only access the ones you haven’t used in years. most people have told him to let it go, move on, it’s not worth it. but satoru’s heart knows what it wants and at the core of it all, it wants: you.

he thinks you might need a little coaxing, something to help you realize you love him again. once he finds out your address, his plan is set. he spruces himself up, spritzing on the cologne of his that was your favorite, even getting suguru to stop by the flower shop near his workplace to grab you a bouquet. yes, gojo’s got it all figured out. he’ll swing by, shower you in love like he used to, and you’ll realize you missed him just as bad.

imagine his dismay when you won’t even open the door, your voice muffled from the other side. you tell him to leave, it’s over, you don’t want to see him anymore. he begs you to open it, just give him one more chance, but you sigh, crack the door open a smidge, and tell him.

“satoru, leave. my boyfriend’s here.”

he thinks that word is disgusting if he’s not the one it’s referring to. maybe you’re lying, maybe it’s another ruse to get him to piss off, but when you peek behind your shoulder, giving a little smile, the kind you used to give gojo, soft, sweet, loving; he realizes you’re completely honest.

the lump in his throat is sticky, clinging onto the walls of his neck like gum. meanwhile, his heart feels like it’s beating in his ears, a not-so-friendly reminder of his fragility.

you turn back, eyeing the flowers, an assortment of your favorite kinds - satoru, satoru, i like these, see? - and in a moment of soft-heartedness, step out. you can’t deny the pull of your heartstrings, satoru’s endearing aura plucking at them in a solemn tune, but you’re different now. you don’t need satoru anymore.

“look,” you start, adjusting his tie and fixing the crinkling cellophane. “maybe you could give this to someone else? they’re so pretty, someone out there would be lucky to have them. and, you’re satoru, handsome, funny, sweet. you’ll find someone else in no time!”

but he just stares, eyes boring into you as if it feels like the wind’s been taken out of him as your words fall on deafened ears. fuck the flowers, you’re so pretty, you’re the one people are lucky to have. in a sense, he’s bewildered because there’s no way you’ve actually moved on… right?

you sigh again, a hint of exasperation tinging your voice, “gojo, i think… this should be the last time we see each other.” you step back, hand on the door handle. to you, this is a step in the right direction.

for him, he finds that the way you don’t use his first name has him wanting to rip his hair out from the root.

“wait, please, i love you.” he states, finally finding his voice, feeling like his time with you is running out. his lip quivers while his heart continues to shatter with each passing second. “i’d do anything for you, you know that right?”

ah. same old satoru, the man who swore he’d take the moon from the sky if you wanted. anyone looking in would swear you were lucky, but you remember things being a little… suffocating. it was too much, too overwhelming eventually.

you bite your lip, strengthening your hold on the handle, ready to leave. you can’t meet his gaze, knowing that if you do you might falter. “but i don’t. i don’t love you anymore.” - it’s a lie, you know it is from the little bud inside your chest blooming, breaking out past the walls of your heart, but you just… can’t.

he shakes his head, taking a step forward. “you don’t mean that.”

“i do, satoru!” you flinch at your own voice, taking a deep breath to calm down. “please, just leave.” you tell him one more time before you retreat back inside and slam the door.

he waits for a few minutes, thinking that maybe he’s on one of those prank shows. you’re going to open the door, tell him it was a joke, and to come inside. except you don’t, and he’s stuck under the low flickering haze of your complex’s lights.

gojo’s a bit stunned on the walk back home, foggy eyesight mixed with thoughts flying a mile a minute equates to a tall stumbling man with no care for those around him. he can’t even count how many people he’s bumped into, let alone the amount of sorrys he’s muttered, the now crumpled bouquet still firmly held in his hand, indicated by the whites of his knuckles.

when he gets home, he sinks into the floor, his head wrapped around his arms before he flings the bouquet across the room. “fuck!” a picture frame of the two of you clatters to the floor, glass breaking in tiny, jagged pieces. he kept it after all, in hopes that you’d come back eventually, but now it’s clear you’re not. he doesn’t even care that he’s knocked something off a table, he’s so fucking hurt.

hurt that you’ve moved on so easily, hurt that you’re out there calling someone else ‘baby’. he can’t fucking stand it, wanting to rip out the baseboards of his home or set it all on fire. from the first day he met you, gojo’s always firmly believed you were made for him. that thought was always reaffirmed with every ‘i love you,’ that dripped from your lips into his ear every morning and evening.

maybe it’s not the best timing, but he remembers other things as well. like each time he’s been deep inside you and your pretty mouth would hang open, eyes blown and glassy, as you gasped out his name like it was the only thing you knew how to say. or even the times you took initiative yourself, crawling under the covers to wake him up, kitten licks and sloppy kisses to his cockhead. his own eyes met yours, with a lidded call of reverence, and that was all he needed to know.

there’s no reason to wallow, he thinks, a small reignition of flame in his gut brewing. each passing memory that trickles by is another reminder that you did love him. no, that’s not right. you do love him.

okay, he thinks, i can still fix this. you just need a little reminding is all. you love him and you’re just a little confused. maybe his mind is breaking, but he reminds himself that it’s better his mind than his heart.

”yeah,” he mumbles, dusting himself as he gets up off the floor. “she still loves me.”

to be honest, breaking and entering wasn’t really his thing, he never saw the appeal in it before. but, this isn't really a break in, he’s just visiting his girl. he will say though, you did make it a little too easy by keeping your key under the mat. no, you kept it easy because you knew he was coming, simple as that.

he goes in tentatively at first, wanting to see what you’ve done with the place, nodding in approval as he scans over the rooms. you’ve done a good job, just like you did before, but he does frown when not a single one of his photos is up. you must have forgotten or maybe you’re trying to save your new boy toy some heartbreak. silently, he walks over to your bedroom door, peeking in.

his mouth quips up into a smile when he sees you. you’re pretty as you sleep, just like he remembers. you’ve always been a heavy sleeper, mouth slightly agape as your drool dribbled down into the pillow.

“hey beautiful…” he murmurs when he reaches you, bending down to brush away a few strands of loose hair from your face.

a little “mm,” leaves your lips as your face twists at his touch. he leans in til he’s just a hair’s breadth away, before he ghosts his lips over yours slightly. still the same old you, lips just as soft as he remembers and what little self restraint he had continues to chip away.

the hot breath of exhales continue to mix as satoru spends his time taking in your scent. he tries his best not to whine when you pull away slightly, once again leaning further in to stay as close to you as possible. if he could get high off of it, he probably could, but the ache in his belly grows. he needs you.

“wait a minute…” he mumbles when you try to once again turn away. “why are you always trying to run away from me?” it’s a silly question, rhetorical since you’re still locked in the deep throes of sleep. but your body seems to answer in place of your voice when your legs rub against the sheets and your chest once again heaves itself over, leaving him behind.

he’s sad that you’ve taken away his favorite aromatic, but with your shuffling, you’ve moved the blankets down letting him get a peek of your bare skin. you’re always a sight to behold and his fingers run themselves lightly over your body before he’s pulling the blanket off you completely.

you’ve always been a heavy sleeper, affectionately dubbed his “sleepy wife,” even though you were never married. it’s been a while since his hands burned with such intensity, running up and down your thigh and leg, even tracing along the curvature of your ass.

his knee dips into the bed as he finally looms over you, pushing you gently onto your back, before he’s prying your thighs open with one hand. he thinks he should take his time, savor it, satoru, but you’re just so… inviting. he runs a finger across the waistband of your shorts, experimentally tugging lightly. he flickers his eyes between his hands and your face, seeking for any signs of waking as he slowly starts to expose more and more skin.

hints and glimpses of skin are all he needs to get riled up, further than he already is, as he takes the leap and pulls your bottoms off completely.

“oh fuck princess,” he groans when he sees your pretty pussy for the first time in months. he’s nearly salivating like a dog as he remembers just how good you taste, bending down to get perched between your thighs.

the first kitten lick against your clit chips away at his already waning self control. the next one that delved between your folds nearly completely breaks it. but he’s missed tasting you on his buds, missed consuming what was his. take your time, satoru. his mind ticks again, and he settles back to prepare a nice lob of spit before he’s letting it fall onto your pussy.

you shiver unconsciously at the sensation and he takes a pause, not wanting you to wake just yet. you’d probably flip out on him and he can’t have you getting mad at him just yet.

he waits until you settle again before he’s diving back in, driving his tongue between your folds as he laps up your essence. to say he was starving was an understatement, for these past months he’s felt like he’s been dying.

it’s intoxicating as your juices and his saliva mix to dribble down his chin, dripping onto your bed sheets below. he eats you out like it's his first real meal in months, tongue lapping as much of your essence as he can while his fingers dig deep into the plush skin of your thighs.

he shudders as he grinds his hips into your mattress, the tip of his nose running against your clit sending little shockwaves up your unconscious body. you taste just as good as he remembers, losing himself in the sweet slick of your cunt.

your eyelids finally flutter open, readjusting to the darkened light of your room, but you can't miss that familiar snowy peak of hair settled in between your thighs.

"satoru?" you breathe, meeting his lidded eyes as your hands come down to immediately push back against his forehead, but instead your fingers curl up into his locks.

“hi,” he chimes, smiling against your pussy as he readjusts, sitting up to shoot you a wicked smile. “hi baby, good mornin’.” the tone ofhis voice is sweet, nearly identical to what it was like when you were together.

he replaces his tongue with his fingers, whining a little when he feels you clench down onto them as he starts to scissor you open.

“what the fuck are you doing here?” you hiss, but your body jerks when he rubs against a particularly sweet spot of yours.

“i missed you. i can’t visit?” he pouts, pressing a kiss against your clit before his tongue is laving over it again as if to make a point. “did you miss me?” he asks when your eyes roll back and you tug just a bit harder on his hair.

“no.” you grit, but you can’t stop the way your hips buck up into him.

“you’ve always been a bad liar, angel.” he shrugs, before he’s latching onto your cunt again.

he’s eaten you out more times than either of you can count, he knows exactly how to get you there. he knows it’s just a little bit more until you fall apart. he’s back on with even more fervor, alternating between sucking on your clit to sloppily and quickly flicking his tongue against it.

“oh fuck,” you mewl, throwing your head back and thrashing as you come undone on his fingers, pussy fluttering and toes curling.

“see, i knew you missed me.” he grins, as he brings his fingers up to suck at the slick around them. you’re still panting as you try to close your legs, but satoru’s fast, bringing his hands back down to tear them open. “ah ah ah,” he tuts, “we’re not done til i say so, got it?”

“sa- gojo, you need to leave.” you plead, head heavy and stomach churning at what’s just happened. you fucked up but it’s fine, you can fix this still.

“why?” he asks, “your boyfriend gonna come home?” fine, he’ll play your little game for now. he’ll antagonize you for a bit, before he’s disgustingly sweet again, just like the good ole days. but there’s also the anger brewing within him, why the fuck won’t you just come home?

he smirks when you pause, already knowing the answer, “don’t tell me you two aren’t living together?”

you shake your head, “that’s none of your business, gojo.” in hindsight, after satoru, you wanted to take things slowly the next time. moving in after only a month of dating probably wasn’t the best idea.

“why not? i’ve got a right to know what you’re up to.” he pouts as he says it, hoping your irritation will ease up.

you scoff, narrowing your eyes, “since when?” but your attitude is nothing more than a facade, always has been. “we’re not even together anymore-“

“since i decided, you’re mine.” he snaps, cutting you off and leaning down into you. “i decided that years ago by the way, and i’m not gonna let some fucking random mess with us.”

you squeak as you hear him rustle with his pants, freeing his aching cock and you hate the way your stomach flip flops when you see it. it’s been so long since you’ve been fucked let alone touched. gojo was the last person to have you writhing underneath him and if you told him, he’d have even more of a need to keep it that way.

your tough facade is breaking, you’re falling back into your hazy, mindless, and needy ways. you love satoru, even if the relationship was toxic, even if he gave you so little breathing room. but not yet, you won’t give in just yet.

you try to scramble back further before you’re able to twist out of his hold for just a moment. but he grabs your hair by the root, twisting and pulling you back close to him and you yelp, clawing at his hand.

“baby, you’re really testing my patience.” he hisses into your ear, before he’s shoving you back down on the bed. “god, you know i hate being mean to you. just be good for once, yeah?”

“gojo, leave.” you try one more time, but the hands that push up against him are so weak that he can tell your body’s betraying you. not only that, but your thighs shake at the pain in your scalp and you wish he would do it again.

“i don’t think you want me to.” he states and you hate that he’s right. you don’t want him to leave, you want him to slide into you, filling you up. “or am i wrong?” he asks, looming over you, running his pretty cockhead through your folds. “go ahead, tell me to stop.”

you bite your lip in an effort to not gasp out a pathetic moan, squeezing your eyes shut. each run against your clit has your legs widening, almost like you’re inviting him to come in.

“knew it,” he quips, before he’s prodding at your entrance. your eyes fly open then, breathing heavily through your nose, but you don’t try to back off letting him glide in, inch by inch. “it’s cause you love me.”

“i don’t,” you exhale as you watch his dick disappear within you, stretching you further than his fingers did. you’re nearly breathless when he finally bottoms out, fists balling into your sheets.

“yes, you do,” he breathes, his own breathing jagged and rushed, almost like it’s being squeezed out of him. “you always have and always will.”

gojo satoru always fucks with your psyche, one of the many reasons you decided to leave him. it wasn’t obvious, not at first and neither was it nefarious. it was silly little item mix ups, funny conversations that seemed to follow satoru’s lead, until it was a loss of freedom, like a nightingale in a cage.

huh? no, you’re meeting them next week… yeah, you told me last night.

but that’s not-

it is. check your phone.

oh, i guess it… is?

c’mon, would i lie to you princess? now you can hang out with me all day.

and then suddenly it was all too clear when you did get that girl’s trip out, when your friends stared at you like you were fucking insane. it wasn’t normal at all that you couldn’t do a single thing without him. your friends helped you fit the pieces together and that was enough. you were going.

leaving that day was easy, satoru hated seeing you upset and was more than willing to give you space when needed. it always went one way: you cool off, he swoops in and dresses up his words extra nicely to make you stay. but you didn’t this time.

it was easier to leave all your things there as well instead of trying to leave in the middle of night. you thought you could do it, away from him you’d figure things out.

but there must have been a part of you that still wanted him to chase after you, a divergent, rogue piece that strayed too far from the board. is that why you didn’t leave the city? still a part within satoru’s web of connected streets, just waiting until you were ensnared again.

his eyes are still as pretty, his face almost too handsome, and voice just as alluring as before. you guess that’s what this is, a predator just waiting to stick his fangs into your neck.

“you’re insane,” you gasp out, holding onto your tiniest bit of strength.

“aw, just for you.” he smiles, before he’s rolling his hips into yours, grinding in just the way you like, just as you remember.

with each stutter of his hips, your walls twitch around his length and body jolts in waves of pleasure. soft gasps and moans tumble off your lips and satoru buries his face into your neck, nipping little marks into your skin, almost as if he’s etching one word into it: mine.

it hits him almost instantly, this sick feeling in the pit of his stomach when he remembers that stupid little nuisance. he uses his hands to push up, still ramming into you as he takes a look at your face contorted in pleasure, as you peek up at him.

“gojo?” you mumble, trying to take into account that look in his eye, but your head is bubbly with the pleasure he’s giving you.

even with your walls clenching down around him with each roll of his hips, his anger seeps into him like water to a sponge as he tries to block out the idea that someone else was in what was his. that they probably saw this face that you’re making and got to hear your pretty little moans.

“where’s your fucking phone?” he hisses, snatching it off the nightstand when he finds it, illuminated by the notifications of text messages from your “boyfriend.”

you whimper, trying to grab it, but satoru holds your hands together by the wrist, strategically keeping them against your chest so you can’t move up.

“gojo, don’t!” you plead, snapping out of your trance for a moment, but the grip on your wrist tightens and you yelp. followed next is a glare, his gaze striking you right to the core. your words die off and he goes back to looking at your phone. it’s easy to unlock, you never changed the pass code.

his eyes scan the texts quickly and frankly, it’s fucking disgusting to read this guy call you pet names that only satoru can say. he continues to scroll, trying his best to not dig his nails deep into your skin as he takes note of every heart emoji, flirtatious interaction, and pet name from your end.

he keeps his breathing deep and even to keep himself from blowing his lid and he has half a mind to block his number to make sure you can’t speak to him again. but suddenly he’s got a better idea, getting back at him seemed so easy.

you look so cute underneath him, pretty pussy enveloping his cock just like it was made to do, why not show it off? especially to someone that pissed him off.

“hey baby, can you smile for me?” he says, voice sugary sweet as he opens your camera app, but you shake your head, trying to sink further into the pillow. you’re wary of the sudden personality change, especially when he finally releases your hands.

he pouts, “c’mon now, you’re so pretty when you smile… please?” he sighs when you continue to refuse, but continues on, angling the camera til he’s satisfied with the image.

“god, you’re so fucking gorgeous.” he says as he zooms onto your flushed face, hands coming up to hide it, before paneling back to record down your body. he stops when he reaches where both your hips are flush together, pussy sucking in his cock right to the brim. “fuck, would you look at that? i don’t even know your name man, but how fuckin’ pretty is this?”

you gasp when you realize what he’s doing, but before you can say anything, you feel a hand come down onto your sensitive pussy. you yelp out but his hand comes down again and you're mortified when it sounds more like a moan. “bet you didn’t know she liked that,” he goads, “she also likes this.” he says, wrapping a hand around your jugular and giving a squeeze.

your eyes roll back as the air escapes you, muddying your sight in little black dots. your hands fall to pull at his wrist, a moot effort considering the strength difference, and he laughs. a condescending flit of noise dripping in ego. “scratch that, she fucking loves that. hey, in my defense, i’m a little rusty, it’s been a while.”

gojo has always been one of two things, needy and arrogant. but the worst was always when the two came together, usually in his worst fits of jealousy. he’s never recorded you before, always too eager to remember to set anything up before he’s pouncing on you.

but this satoru feels different, he feels scarier, nearly dangerous, although you shake off that fear til it’s nothing more than a fleeting thought. you liked this - no he was right, you loved this. before you broke up you were always begging satoru, just a little harder, just a little meaner, please.

with another heavy squeeze as the oxygen is once again cut off from you, you feel the walls around your heart finally crumbling completely, almost like a switch is flipped on. you can’t run from nor deny the heady need that was gojo satoru, the man that knew you in and out. you flutter your lashes at him, like you always did when you wanted to tell him something. he loosens his grip on your neck, just enough so that you can speak, “you wanna say somethin’, baby?”

“u-use me,” you mumble, voice no louder than a whisper as your eyes start to leak that familiar pretty liquid that drives him insane. you’ve missed him, missed this - whatever the fuck it was, some messed up amalgamation dressed up under the guise of love.

“hm?” he goads, a sick smile plastered on his face because you’re finally acting how you should. “a little louder for me, princess. i can’t hear you.”

“use me!” you sob, trying to shift your hips to get some sort of stimulation, “please, satoru, please.”

the use of his first name has him feeling like an actual god as he switches the camera back onto him. “you heard her.” he says with a wicked grin, before ending the video and pressing send. he tosses your phone to the side, “now where were we?”

you whine when he shifts, one elbow propping him up as his hand once again finds it’s place against your neck. your own hand resumes it’s place as well, but instead of pulling this time you press, lashes heavy with tears as you wordlessly beg satoru to claim what’s his again.

he’s so close to you now, his snowy hair tickles your forehead and his breath mixes with yours as he finally starts to move. you choke out a sob as he ever so slowly hits all the right places and you wonder how long you actually managed to make this far.

“this is what you wanted isn’t it, baby?” he coos, being careful to not choke you for too long, even though you almost wish he’d fuck you passed out. “just needed a little reminder that i’m all you need right?”

you nod, hiccuping with each thrust that knocks any air you have left out of your lungs. he’s right, just the two of you is all either of you need. you think the world is melting away as satoru presses kisses against your spit ridden lips, his own groans mixing in with yours as your tongues mesh together in sloppy, messy runs.

“and now you’re gonna cum on my cock, aren’t you?” he picks up the pace, slamming in harder, rougher, like he’s proving a point. but he’s almost always right, with each kiss of his mushroom tip against your sweet spot pulsing pleasure throughout your body. “show me how much you love me.”

“‘m close, toru,” you sniffle, nails digging into his arm as you blink away more tears, gasping up into his mouth. “‘m so close, please.”

“i know.” he states, pressing his forehead against yours, sticky and sweat covered, as he gazes into your glassy, hazy eyes. “come on, cum for me princess. show me who you belong to.”

there’s something so euphoric about satoru’s words, claiming every last bit of you, that you fall apart almost instantly. your orgasm hits you hard, rippling through you as your eyes and head both roll back, your pussy clenching down on his thick cock.

“f-fuck! cumming, toru, i’m-“ you squeal, tears running down your face freely but satoru swallows up your moans, his lips once again sealing over yours, since those belong to him too.

that’s enough for him, a firm affirmation that you love him, and he loses control of his once precise thrusts. he pistons into you, heavy balls slapping against your skin and pounding hard as if to leave marks all up your velvet walls. you milk out his own orgasm, walls fluttering and he detaches from your lips to growl out, “you’re all fucking mine, got it?”

you chant out “yes,” as many times you can, still riding out your own orgasm as his cum paints your walls in white, til he finally slows back down to a stuttering close. he pants as he runs his hand up to rub his thumb over your tear-ridden cheek.

“i love you.” he mumbles and you blink up at him sleepily meeting his pretty lidded blue eyes. it’s a stark contrast to the satoru just moments ago, pounding into you like his life depended on it.

“love you too, toru.” you whisper, running a hand over his. your head and body feel heavy, yet your mind is still floating above the clouds. he’s probably oversensitive but you can’t care, knowing that your neck is prettier now that his fingerprints are littered on it. “toru… again.”

he laughs when he feels you start to grind your hips, sticky slick and cum dripping from your hole. he feels like he’s on cloud nine hearing you beg for him after all this time.

“please, please, toru,” you whine, craning your neck to brush sloppy, wet kisses across his lips and jawline. “i love you, so please.”

“course, angel,” he mumbles in between kisses, “just gimme a few minutes and i’ll give you everything you want.”

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sprytesukii · 3 months

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you know me (better than i know myself)

bakugou katsuki x reader

katsuki is hopelessly in love with his best friend until you waltz into his life and warp it beyond his recognition.

rating: mature, 18+, MDNI

wc : 10.4k (holy fuck)

tags : mild to heavy angst, fluff, eventual smut, hurt/comfort, gn!reader (they/them pronouns), afab!reader, unrequited love (not between reader and kats), depictions of mild depression, genderfluid!denki, queer!katsuki, reader has a quirk, oral (reader receiving), p-in-v intercourse, unprotected intercourse (wrap it b4 u tap it pls!), soft katsuki, and they were roommates :0, Not Beta Read, i think that’s it T^T

an: this is the first thing i’ve genuinely written in over a year and jesus it was like i was possessed writing it LMFAO incredibly self indulgent and i had a lot of fun writing it! i hope you guys enjoy it (pls rb n leave feedback pls pls pls)

read on ao3

the warm light of the coffee table lamp casts a beautiful shadow across the planes of eijirou’s face — his sharp, angular nose, smooth cheekbones, plush lips that form a sheepish smile — and katsuki can’t even appreciate it, not with the absolute bullshit that pours from his best friend’s lips.

“the fuck you mean, you’re moving out?”

the words come out a lot harsher than katsuki intends, but he can’t even bring himself to feel guilty, not even when kiri’s face screws up in clear disappointment.

“well, uh, i told you, this new place is closer to my agency so it makes more sense. the commute’ll be much shorter and, uh…” he trails off then, a pretty pink blush spreading across his nose, highlighting the small spattering of freckles that katsuki is certain he’s the only one who’s ever noticed, a broiling heat setting alight in his stomach.

he feels like he might die.

“and.. kaito finally asked me to move in with him.”

there it is. fuckin’ kaito.

katsuki is far from an idiot — people call him a lot of names (brash, inconsiderate, a righteous asshole), but never dumb. they couldn’t unless they were outright lying.

part of what makes katsuki so intelligent is his observance.

of course he’s noticed eijirou’s late nights, his suspicious absences at group get togethers, the sweet smiles he makes as he taps at his phone screen, the fucking hickies.

bakugou katsuki is not stupid. he’s incredibly observant. especially when it comes to the massive crush he’s been harboring on his best friend for the last three years.

he’s not entirely sure when his reluctant tolerance of the bright redhead shifted to something more but he knows he’s been viciously, painfully pining over him day in and day out in the weeks (months, years) since.

and it’s not like kirishima hasn’t had partners before. he’s nearly impossible to resist with his intense attentiveness, his willingness to go above and beyond for those close to him, not to mention his insane physique, built from long hours out on the field and in the gym.

it’s no wonder katsuki has been in love with him for as long as he has been — eijirou is perfect.

perfectly imperfect, of course. he gets upset when katsuki sorts his clothes for him (“i’m an adult, okay? it makes me feel like you’re parenting me, man.”) or when he lectures him on his diet, or when he shuts him out after being friends for so long (when his feelings become too much to handle), but eijirou’s the only one who’s stayed.

katsuki has tried flings and a few more serious relationships but those have ended quickly because he’s just too much.

too loud. too frustrating. too closed off. too him.

but not for eijirou. never for eijirou.

that’s why when kiri mentioned he was talking to this new guy, he brushed it off. it would be like all the others who would eventually break it off because of the long hours at work or eijirou’s boundless enthusiasm and katsuki would be there to pick the sopping wet, heartbroken kiri off the ground and put him back together. they didn’t deserve him anyway.

but this kaito? apparently katsuki’s eagerness to ignore eijirou’s flings made him blind to what was happening — eiji wasn’t his anymore.

he’s moving out.

he’ll be gone forever.

subconsciously, katsuki realizes he’s been silent for far too long and that eijirou’s face has lost the hurt and is now painted with concern and confusion.

fuck, even now, he’s concerned. he cares so so much, except in the way katsuki craves.

“uh,” kirishima’s gentle voice breaks him from his thoughts, a big hand finding its way to katsuki’s knee, “are you okay dude?”

the touch sears through the expensive black joggers katsuki is wearing and he flinches so hard, he jostles the coffee table to his side. he barely sees kirishima’s brows furrow as he launches himself to standing, the telltale burn behind his eyes signaling the incoming wave of tears.

he can’t see katsuki like this, he fucking can’t.

katsuki marches to the kitchen, opening up the fridge and blankly staring into it while he tries to will the water back into his face and still the turmoil burning in his chest.

it feels like he’s aflame, like he’s suffocating, drowning.

he can hear kirishima’s steps behind him but thankfully stopping a reasonable distance away as he calls his name again, desperation coloring the word.

fuck.

with everything he has in him, katsuki grabs a random bottle from the refrigerator (a smoothie eijirou made for him with far too much kale and too little milk and a little note attached with his name and a smiley face. he’s gonna be sick.) and turns to face him, a strained, shaky grimace painting his lips.

“that’s-“ his voice cracks hard and he desperately clears his throat, blinking hard when he sees eijirou reach out for him and stop. “that’s fuckin’— that’s great. ‘m happy for you.”

the words feel like glass inching their way out of his throat and while he knows he sounds anything but, the words seem to do the trick, kirishima’s face lighting up like a fucking christmas tree.

“that means so much to me, man!” this time, he doesn’t stop himself from wrapping katsuki up in a hug, the full body contact sending a wracking shiver through his body. “and don’t worry! we’ll still hang out all the time and i’ll — yes! — finally be able to introduce you to kaito — you’re gonna love him, and-“

katsuki has to tune him out, if just to keep a hold on his sanity because otherwise, he’s gonna break.

he keeps it together through the rest of the conversation about kaito, tuning in only to give time appropriate grunts and hums while pretending like his entire world isn’t imploding in on itself.

he keeps it together, miraculously, as kirishima packs up his things, the evidence of their entwined lives for the past five years disappearing into cardboard boxes over the span of a few weeks.

he even keeps it together when he meets kaito on the move out date, even if it’s just barely. kaito is handsome — tall, taller than katsuki, with windswept brown hair, bright brown eyes and a dimple in his left cheek. if he wasn’t so fucking in love with eiji, he wouldn’t mind taking a piece out of him, but as it were, the sight of kaito makes him genuinely sick to his stomach.

it’s even worse that kaito is so nice. his quirk is even nicer — some nature type that makes it impossible for plants to die when touched by him. they turn to him like he’s the fucking sun and eiji does too.

by the time all kirishima’s stuff is packed up in the back of kaito’s truck, bile is burning at the back of katsuki’s throat as he says his final goodbye to kiri in the way of a bone crushing hug that doesn’t last as long as he wishes, as he craves.

kiri sends him a blinding smile as he climbs into the passenger seat of the truck, looking all too at home against the worn blue leather seats.

it’s now when katsuki wishes he was a little less observant because the hand kaito gently places on kirishima’s thigh and the subsequent full body blush makes him sick.

he waits on the curb the appropriate amount of time as the pair drive away before racing back into his building, up the stairs, into his unit and straight to the bathroom, kneeling over the toilet and heaving, chills wracking his body despite the sweat on his brow.

nothing comes out (praise whoever above because katsuki hates vomiting) and he slumps against the porcelain, resting his heated skin against the toilet seat.

he thought… fuck, katsuki has no idea what he thought, but he didn’t expect it to hurt this bad. he feels a little like he’s dying and lot like he’ll never be okay again. that kirishima walked out with his heart and all he’ll be for the rest of his life is a walking husk of a human being.

a wave of nausea overtakes him again and he debates leaning back over the toilet, but exhaustion overwhelms him and he falls asleep against the wall of his bathroom, sweaty, sick, and heartbroken.

(the next morning, he wakes up to a pounding headache and two texts from eijirou.

he drinks a shit ton of water first and pops an advil before opening the messages.

EIJI (18:21) : just got to kaito’s! dude it’s so nice i can’t believe ill be living here now ><

katsuki has to take a deep breath to fight against the wave of pain that hits him right in the gut, but he keeps reading, the second text simultaneously warming him and twisting the knife.

EIJI (18:25) : i’m gonna miss you so much kats T^T so weird living without you

he stares at the message until his vision swims before liking the second message and turning off his phone, tossing it onto the couch and trudging to his bedroom, slamming the door behind him.)

the next few weeks prove to be incredibly difficult.

a new case is brought to best jeanist’s desk and as the best sidekick at the agency, he’s placed in charge of heading the search and capture of an elusive invisibility quirk villain.

the days are long and exhausting, and more often than not, he doesn’t even have time to miss kirishima or notice his things missing from the apartment — he gets home, makes a barebones meal and collapses on the couch for what feels like a four hour nap until he has to turn back around and do it all over again.

it’s sustainable until it isn’t.

a few too many missed meals and restless hours of sleep has him passing out in a morning briefing, prompting best jeanist to send him home for a mandatory two week “vacation.”

it’s a prison sentence, is what it is.

at home, there’s nothing to distract him from the utter lack of kirishima, from the idea that the one person who has seen all of him and loved him anyway has left.

most days it’s too much to bear, so instead, he sleeps.

the usual tidiness of his space slowly deteriorates as he wastes away, waking only to scarf down whatever is left in his refrigerator before going right back to bed.

his friends text him often — hanta, denki, even fuckin’ hitoshi — but he ignores them all. the texts from kirishima are the hardest to delete, all concerned words and pleas for them to just talk, but he does it anyway.

it’s better this way, he tells himself. this way, no one else is dragged down by his self pity.

izuku ends up being the one to break the streak on day nine of radio silence.

a knock resounds at his door and he ignores it, pulling his blankets high above his mussed blonde hair, effectively hiding him from view as he hopes whoever is there spontaneously combusts or, better yet, just leaves.

when the knocks stop, he believes the latter has just occurred and he sighs in relief, completely missing the sound of metal creaking and his doorknob falling to the ground.

he’s debating on taking another melatonin to find the sweet release of sleep once more when his bedroom door opens up and he startles, launching up out of bed, hands and quirk at the ready to destroy the intruder, but he’s slow, too slow.

izuku is on him in a moment, pinning him to the bed and disregarding his gnashing teeth and cursing to look him over with a detached gaze.

“katsuki,” he says, voice firm in effectively shutting him up, despite the way he wriggles for freedom (so ineffectively, it’s embarrassing), “you look like dogshit.”

a harsh bark of laughter escapes katsuki’s throat and even from his angle where he’s pressed into his pillows, he sees izuku’s expression soften.

“you’ve lost your tact, deku,” he responds, his words gravelly from disuse. izuku scoffs but lets him up, taking a step over a pile of clothes on the ground to lean against the desk opposite of the bed.

with his newfound freedom, katsuki sits up, absentmindedly rubbing his now sore shoulder, the pain oddly grounding. izuku watches the motion with the intense focus he’s carried throughout his entire life, though he’s a far cry from the boy who used to break his bones and cry over injured birds.

now, he’s built like a brick house, forest green curls tapered into a flattering modern undercut, the fat from his cheeks transforming into something more chiseled and adult. his eyes aren’t as soft either — they’re tired and, as he looks at katsuki’s form, tinged with worry.

“where have you been? no one has heard from you in a week.”

katsuki rolls his eyes, looking away from the gaze that pins him, the gaze he tried so hard to get to look at him without fear. there isn’t a hint of fear in them now, but katsuki is afraid there’ll be disappointment and that’s almost worse.

“none of your fuckin’ business,” he grunts out and he immediately knows it was the wrong response. besides eijirou, izuku knows him the best and after all they’ve been through, he doesn’t deserve this.

he never deserved any of it.

with that thought spinning around in his head, katsuki rubs a hand over his face with a quiet curse, leaning back against the headboard.

“fuck, i’m sorry,” it comes out as a mutter, but its effect on izuku is instantaneous. the previous hardness of his expression melts and he moves closer, his bushy brows furrowing together. katsuki can barely look at him but he does anyway, he makes himself. izuku deserves that much (he deserves so much more but one day at a time).

“we’re just worried about you,” izuku says quietly but without pity. never pity. “what’s going on?”

maybe it’s the way izuku’s freckled face reminds him far too much of eijirou’s own spattering of constellations or maybe it’s the fact katsuki hasn’t eaten in over fifteen hours, but he shatters in that moment, crystal tears filling up carmine eyes.

if izuku is startled at katsuki’s sudden change of emotions, he doesn’t show it, instead moving to envelop katsuki in his arms, allowing him to bury his face in the crook of his shoulder and let go.

katsuki tells him everything and by the end of it, his head feels like it’s stuffed with cotton and his eyes are puffy and red, but he feels better than he did all week.

izuku just looks thoughtful from his place sitting near the end of katsuki’s bed, the pair parting somewhere in between katsuki’s admission of throwing up when seeing kaito and kirishima together and his accidental confession of stealing one of eijirou’s hoodies from one of the boxes (it sits right under his pillow, but izuku doesn’t need to know that).

“i’m really sorry, katsuki. that fucking sucks,” izuku ends up saying and katsuki’s initial reaction is anger. he spills his heart and guts out to izuku and all he gets is that sucks? but when he opens his mouth to give deku a piece of his mind, he realizes that it does suck. it sucks royal ass and there’s nothing he or izuku can do to fix it - at least not yet - but the acknowledgment, without any attempt to give advice or make everything better, does wonders for katsuki.

he pushes out a watery laugh, his lip ticking up into a smile - for the first time in weeks - and izuku lights up a little. “yeah. it really fuckin’ does.”

the smile izuku sends back is blinding and for the one thousandth time, katsuki is reminded why the symbol of peace is just that.

they talk for a little while longer before izuku forces katsuki into the shower. he takes a long time, letting the scalding hot water turn cold before he emerges to find that his childhood best friend has started cleaning up the mess that has become of his apartment.

katsuki watches on for a moment until izuku raises an eyebrow at him and offers him a trash bag which he takes wordlessly, a wave of affection crashing over him so quickly tears come to his eyes. he blinks them away but he doesn’t miss the knowing smile izuku sends his way.

the pair work together in relative silence until the apartment is spotless and katsuki’s stomach is grumbling something fierce. izuku makes his way to the fridge but is met with nothing but a half carton of eggs and a rotting smoothie in the far corner, a sticky note attached to the lid. he fixes katsuki with a small, sad smile before digging through his drawers for a takeout menu.

when the food arrives, katsuki finishes it in record time and he can’t tell if it’s the fact they remembered to make it extra spicy or if it’s because he literally can’t remember the last time he had an actual meal, but it’s the best thing he’s eaten in a long time.

after they finish, izuku turns on the television and they both spend the evening shit talking a d-list hero film until they fall asleep on the couch, bodies slumped against one another, holding each other up.

—

that night seems to have knocked something loose in katsuki because the next morning, he wakes with his first alarm and heads to the gym for the first time since his mandatory vacation. by the end of it, his arms are burning from quirk overuse and he’s completely wiped, but he feels more like himself than he has in ages.

he finally texts his friends back (barring one) and they greet him back with high levels of enthusiasm and concern. it feels good to be received back into the fold with the love he’d thought he’d lost, his cheeks hurting with how much he’s smiling as the messages roll in.

katsuki finishes out his sentence and goes back to work on the fourteenth day with an earnest apology to best jeanist and a new lead on the villain after pouring over the case files in between hyperintensive workouts at the gym. best jeanist is quietly impressed, but the squeeze to the shoulder he gives katsuki tells him he was more worried about him than he let on.

the next few weeks pass in a blur, but this time it’s more pleasant. he watches shitty movies with izuku, deletes instagram when he sees a photo of kaito and kirishima on holiday in america, starts attending a pottery class on the weekends he has off with mina and denki, continues to ignore the texts from eijirou that are becoming more and more infrequent as time goes on, smokes with hanta and shinsou one evening and laughs harder than he ever has, and life feels like it’s slowly gaining its footing once again.

he realizes three months after kirishima had moved out that he should probably start looking for a new roommate or downgrade to something more reasonable. he seriously considers the latter, but when he looks at the space he cultivated right after he graduated from ua, he realizes he can’t quite give the place up.

he posts an ad on craigslist that night.

the next time the group goes drinking (kirishima is suspiciously absent, despite his reentry into the country a few days prior — mina mentioned it), katsuki brings up his roommate problem and denki latches on, his cheeks pleasantly flushed from the wine he’s been sipping on.

“oh, oh! i know - i know the perrrrfeeccttt roommate for you,” he slurs, toying with the earring dangling from his ear and fixing his excited gaze on katsuki’s face. “they’re like.. the besttt, dude, you’d - you’d love them.”

the words are vague, but when katsuki opens up his mouth to ask for more details, denki’s eyes widen and he rushes off to the bathroom, a hand over his mouth, nearly tripping over the his platform shoes and maxi skirt.

the topic of the roommate is quickly forgotten then, but it resurfaces a few days later at pottery class.

katsuki is glaring holes into the side of his slightly lopsided vase on the pottery wheel, internally going through the steps to see where he went wrong. denki to the left of him laughs and chatters as he makes his, frankly, hideous ceramic, the clay warped beyond recognition.

something in his one-sided conversation brings his attention to katsuki who’s startled at the sound of his name coming from denki’s mouth.

“yo, you still looking for a roommate?” he asks, tilting his head as a strand of hair falls from the lengthening ponytail at the back of his head. without alcohol in his system, denki looks a little more hesitant to be approaching this topic, but does so when he isn’t met with a howitzer to the face.

the group doesn’t know much of anything, just that kirishima and katsuki aren’t talking, so they tend to tread lightly around the subject. katsuki appreciates it, genuinely, but he’s not going to shatter at the sound of eijirou’s name - not anymore. it hurts still, of course, but the pain has dulled to a steady hum that he can ignore if he tries hard enough.

“yeah,” he grunts, turning his eyes back at his vase. “why? you got someone in mind?”

denki grins, showing off the lightning tooth gems on his canine. “hell yeah! i’ll give you their number — they teach the watercolor class here on tuesdays and they’re so cool.”

he speaks about you with obvious adoration and katsuki belatedly wonders if the two of you are dating, but doesn’t voice this curiousity, instead wordlessly handing denki his phone to put in your contact as “ROOMIE” with what feels like a hundred paint emojis after it. katsuki smiles at his friend’s antics and can’t quite bring himself to change it.

the colorful contact remains untouched for about another week until he gets a rent notice and remembers the little paint palettes in his phone.

in the middle of his morning workout, he taps out a quick text to you, before tossing his phone to the side and promptly forgetting about it.

katsuki [09:27] : Hey. I’m Bakugou. Denki gave me your number. I’m looking for a roommate. You interested?

ROOMIE [10:16] : oh hey yeah i’m interested

ROOMIE [10:17] : do you want 2 meet td

ROOMIE [10:17] : i’m at the cafe on 5th n cherry

ROOMIE [10:17] : in the back

ROOMIE [10:19] : i’ll b here 4 a while

ROOMIE [10:19] : just come whenever

katsuki only sees the message at the end of his workout a half hour later. the number of messages in a row and less than ideal grammar makes him turn up his nose but he quickly taps out an affirmative, before dapping izuku up and heading to the showers.

he makes it to the cafe twenty minutes later, scanning the place to see what he assumes is you tucked away in the back corner, your table full with books, papers, paints, your laptop and at least four empty cups of coffee.

katsuki raises an eyebrow at the sight but walks over anyway, telling himself he’s doing denki a favor by meeting someone he thinks so highly of so he won’t feel too bad when he tells him it’s not going to work out.

you don’t look up when he stops at your table, too occupied with the piece of art in front of you, your face twisted up in intense concentration.

you’re quite pretty, he notes subconsciously, the hard set of your eyes and one track focus reminding him an awful lot of himself when he’s swept into a difficult case. your complete unawareness gives him more time to take you in, though, so he can’t even bring himself to be too annoyed.

you’re wearing a bright yellow chargebolt hoodie that clashes terribly with your garishly pink acid queen baggy sweatpants. a pair of cellophane socks cover your feet where they’re stretched out in the seat across from you and your shoes (made to look like the red ones from deku’s costume, jesus christ) sit haphazardly beneath the table, empty.

it’s such a bizarre sight, katsuki almost laughs — almost — but he doesn’t, instead opting to knock your feet off the chair opposite you so he can sit down.

“a big fan of heroes, huh?” he asks, the action coupled with his words startling you so bad, your knees hit the underside of the table, threatening to upend all the precariously balanced objects decorating the surface.

you look angry at first before you realize who it is and once you do, you just look relieved. it’s an unusual reaction, one katsuki rarely gets from anyone who isn’t actively in danger, especially strangers.

“you scared the absolute shit out of me,” you say tiredly, rubbing a hand over your face and sighing. katsuki watches you recognize your own impoliteness in real time, a sheepish smile spreading across your lips.

pretty.

“fuck, sorry,” you extend a paint splotched hand to him and he takes it, shaking it firmly before it falls back to his side, fingers tingling. “i get super into shit and completely forget where i am. kami gets onto me about it all the time. says i’m prime villain bait or some shit. i think he’s saying it most of the time to freak me out, but he might actually be right. don’t ever tell him i said that though.”

katsuki can’t help but stare at you as you ramble at him with the familiarity of someone who’s known him for months, not just a few minutes. it’s uncomfortable in a strangely nice way and he can feel his muscles loosen as the nerves melt away.

“aw fuck, i’m sorry again. i didn’t introduce myself.”

you give him your name, offering your hand out for him to shake once more which he does with an amused look painting his expression. you don’t seem to notice, your attention being grabbed by the piece in front of you again.

“i’m bakugou,” he offers after a moment of silence. you don’t even look up when you respond.

“i know. you sent me that text, remember? also you’re like, super fucking famous, dynamight,” you look up at him through your lashes, teasing, and heat unexpectedly blooms on the back of his neck.

what the fuck?

in a bid to gain back control of the conversation (and himself) katsuki asks, “what’re you workin’ on? dunceface said you’re a painter or some shit.”

your nose crinkles at the moniker, but you don’t say anything about it, instead turning the sketchbook around for katsuki to look at it.

the piece is stunning, but it’s visceral and he can’t help but lean back a little when looking at it, stomach dropping.

a deer lays on the ground, gutted, blood, guts and viscera pouring out of its abdomen as a figure just out of frame reaches inside and pulls out its heart.

katsuki is disgusted but intrigued and that feeling only amplifies when you press a finger to the painting and activate your quirk.

suddenly, the hand in the painting moves so realistically he flinches — he can hear the deer’s heart beat, can hear the way the blood trickles through the blades of grass, can smell the coppery tang and can feel the rush of spring wind blowing past his face.

it’s like he’s there, in the piece, and he feels both a little sick and also so alive.

“holy fuck,” he whispers, shivering, and you laugh, deactivating your quirk, bringing him back to the real world. the sounds of the cafe flood in, replacing the smell of blood and spring fields with coffee and loose tea leaves. he shakes his head, eyes a little blown when they look at you.

your expression is playfully amused as you bring your sketchbook closer to your person, resting your head on the palm of your hand.

“sorry,” you offer, but you don’t sound very sorry at all, “should’ve asked before i used my quirk on you. not everyone likes that shit.”

the words are so nonchalant but you look like you’re poised to watch him get up and leave, never looking back. katsuki doesn’t think he could leave if he tried.

“nah,” his voice feels raw so he tries to clear it but the feeling doesn’t go away. “you’re good. just surprised me, ‘s all.”

your mouth parts in muted surprise and you tilt your head, appraising him like you’re seeing him for the first time. katsuki feels surprisingly bare as you study him, but he doesn’t drop his eye contact, despite the heavy pounding of his heart from your intensity.

the pair of you sit in silence like that for a moment or two longer before you break it, asking him if he wants something to drink. before he can tell you he doesn’t drink coffee though, you flag down the waiter, ask for a hot cup of tea (“darjeeling or oolong,” you ask the waiter, not even sparing katsuki another glance, “he doesn’t look like he fucks with green tea.” it’s true. he doesn’t. his heart does a stutter step in his chest.) and when it arrives to the table, katsuki asks you to move in with him.

you agree.

—

the move in process is so quick and easy that when it’s done, it feels like you’ve been living there for years.

your belongings integrate seamlessly into his own. your books about art history and watercolor technique find their way onto his bookshelves filled with classic japanese literature and hero history.

(he comes home one day to see you propped up on the couch with a thick book on the origin of quirks and heroism in japan that you stole borrowed from his collection. he just cocks his head at you when you meet his gaze and you shrug.

“i’m not japanese, i don’t know any of this shit,” you say in way of an explanation. “besides, this is important to you. i wanna learn.”

you turn back to your book like you didn’t just completely shake the foundation of katsuki’s world for a moment and he stumbles off to the kitchen, heat burning at the tips of his ears.)

your plants find their way on every windowsill and while, once upon a time, it would’ve made him think of kaito and that sick, curling jealousy would wrap around his chest and squeeze, now? it just makes him think of you.

(it helps you can’t really keep them alive so nearly every other week the two of you are replanting something new in the pots and vases katsuki makes in pottery class.)

your favorite foods join his in the refrigerator and the two of you take your meals together more often than not. katsuki cooks and you clean, either eating on the couch while watching a documentary or at the dining room table as you talk and talk and talk.

(the first time katsuki misses dinner, you wait up for him, even forgoing your own meal to eat with him when he returns at 2 in the morning.

“don’t do that shit again,” he grumbles when he finds out what you’ve done, his scarlet eyes piercing your own. you shrug, unafraid, tired eyes trailing lazily over his tank top clad form.

“don’t tell me what to do,” you retort after a moment, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of your lips, “i like eating with you.”

your honesty, unabashed and loud, always bowls him over and he has to take a sip of his ice water to feel steady again.)

the relationship between the two of you is easy, for once, and katsuki finds himself looking forward to coming home, to you and your witty comments, sharp intelligence, and your uncanny ability to see right through him.

he swears it must be a hidden quirk, the way you seem to just know — know what he wants and needs without even asking and your accuracy rate is pretty much unbeatable.

after a particularly bad mission where the property damage is unusually high and the civilian casualties match, the leading hero news journalist puts out a scathing piece about him, sending him into an emotional spiral.

you find him that afternoon, curled up in bed, staring at the window blankly. you crawl up in bed beside him and you don’t speak, don’t offer him coddling words of “everything’s gonna be okay,” or “you did the best you could,” because if that was katuski’s best, he doesn’t fucking deserve to be a hero. not at all.

but no, you don’t offer him empty words of placation. instead, you brush a lock of his hair off of his forehead and look at him with that all-seeing gaze, your expression neither soft nor hard, but understanding.

“you’re not gonna let that shit happen again, right?” you ask, tilting your head. katsuki shakes his head vehemently, the mere notion of the same amount of dead bodies on his watch sending a fire through his chest as he sits up.

“fuck no.”

“good. now come here, i painted something new and i need to see if i get ‘good job’ or ‘holy fuck that’s shitty’ eyebrows from you.”

and that’s that.

you’ve even given him a nickname and it inexplicably makes his skin feel tight, like he needs to tear it off and show you, like it’s a display of how you make him feel.

it’s a lazy sunday afternoon, one he’s required to take off by best jeanist, and he’s spent it next to you on the couch, listening to a few of your records while you paint a forest scene, a skittish doe front and center with rivulets of water streaming from beneath it.

occasionally, you’ll activate your quirk and katsuki can suddenly hear birds chirping and the creak of the wood before he’s back in your cramped flat, the sounds of city sounding below.

it’s jarring and yet, comforting, both your presence and the quirk, in a way that still doesn’t make sense to him yet.

“bambi, are you even listening to me?” the term of what he assumes is endearment startles him out of his thoughts and he eyes dart to yours, an amused expression on your your brow.

“who the fuck are you callin’ bambi?” in his shock, he can hardly conjure up the ability to sound pissed, confusion instead hijacking his words, making them come out soft and gruff.

“you, idiot,” you reply, like it makes all the sense in the world. “you’re like a deer to me. something in you is skittish, afraid and yet, you’re still so beautiful.”

what the fuck.

katsuki’s breath completely evaporates from his lungs and he feels like he’s going to pass out at your frank words. it doesn’t help that you don’t break eye contact or look embarrassed to have said something so, so… intimate.

he can’t even begin to parse through how to respond to something like that, but you know that too, flicking a little bit of paint water at him with the tip of your brush. he sees the olive branch for what it is and he grabs it with both hands, the annoyed sound rising from his throat on autopilot as you laugh, but your eyes are still so knowing.

he thinks about that day everyday after with sickening butterflies flapping around in his stomach and those only magnify when you choose to call him the new nickname every single chance you get.

katsuki would not dream of stopping you.

—

it’s about two months into you moving in with him and he’s going out drinking with the squad. he’s invited you about thirty times but every time you decline, citing that you’re behind on grading art projects and that show you were looking forward to is airing tonight.

(you’re a substitute art teacher at the local elementary school, a fact that genuinely shocked katsuki when he found out.

you’d laughed, wide and unapologetic at his reaction.

“i know i’ve got quite the potty mouth but i clean it up for the kids,” you say, eyes twinkling. “they kinda love me, i think, but it might just be the bob ross videos i put on for them every friday.”)

katsuki chooses not to push but he knows that he’ll end up cutting the night short, just so he can sprawl next to you on the couch and watch you paint.

you seem to know it too (how?? secret quirk, it must be) if the knowing look you give him isn’t enough as he goes to change.

when he returns to the living room, he’s clad in a nice black button down that’s unbuttoned enough to show off the strong planes of his chest and his thin gold chain, and a pair of black jeans that fit him and his tiny waist incredibly well.

katsuki knows he looks good in this outfit, but he finds himself uncharacteristically nervous as he stands in front of you, your eyes dragging down his body as slow as molasses, igniting the skin as though it was a physical touch.

your eyes meet his once again, molten and hot, and katsuki’s knees nearly buckle at the sight. he’s never seen you look like that - not at him, not at anyone, and he finds that he quite likes to be the center of your attention in this way.

“you clean up nicely, bambi,” you murmur, your voice a lower timber in comparison to your normal speech.

the blush spreads immediately to all visible parts of his body and he can fucking see you holding back a grin. “fuck off,” is all he can say before he spins on his heel, grabs his keys, and marches out the door.

it takes everything in him to continue walking, out and up to the train station and then to the bar, because all he wants to do is turn right back around, back to your home and back to that lava-like gaze you pinned him with earlier.

it’s you that’s racing around in his mind when he pushes the door open to the bar, but all thoughts come to a complete, grinding halt when he sees kirishima at their usual table, surrounded by all their friends and grinning like he’d never left.

he looks different - after all, it’s been about a year since katsuki had seen him last. his hair is longer and his roots are grown out, his skin has taken on such a warm glow and it, impossibly, seems like he’s gotten even bigger somehow.

it’s also impossible to miss the black band on his ring finger signaling a new engagement ring which he figures is what they’re meant to be celebrating tonight, eyes belatedly catching on the comically tiny “i’m engaged!” sash hanging around his chest.

the sight of kirishima sends the most heinous bolt of anxiety through katsuki and now he really just wants to call you to come get him and take him home, to make him forget all about his unrequited love. he moves backwards to do just that, but he’s already been spotted by kirishima himself.

fuck.

katsuki is frozen as kirishima’s happy expression falters when he meets his eyes, cycling through shock, disbelief, stark hurt and then utter relief.

he can see the way kiri’s mouth forms “katsuki” from a distance as he puts down his drink and moves towards him, his feet completely frozen until they’re standing face to face (face to chest, really) for the first time in months.

“hey,” kirishima says, hesitantly, breathlessly, as his hands flutter uselessly at his sides, like he wants to just pick katsuki up but is stopping himself. “can we, uh, can we go outside and talk?”

katsuki just nods because what else is supposed to do? and as they move out, he catches the worried gazes of their friends watching the pair of them from the table. denki and izuku, the latter of whom knows the most (everything) and the former who managed to figure most of it out on his own.

(“takes one to know one,” he’d said, bitterly when he’d confronted katsuki a few weeks ago about his unexplained mandatory leave all those months ago. katsuki was confused until kaminari flipped around his phone to reveal a photo of him and hanta pressed tightly together in an embrace that was strictly platonic and yet, horribly intimate.

katsuki’s lips drew together into a tight line as he settled against the brick wall kami was leaning against, trying to light the cigarette hanging loosely from his lips.

“you’re too good for plain face,” he says after a moment, attempting to channel his inner you, blunt and honest. “you’re gonna find someone better.” and just like all his thoughts as of recently, they’d flitted right back to you.

denki had watched his face carefully, cigarette unlit, a thoughtful look crossing his own expression.

“yeah,” he concedes, “i will, won’t i?”)

katsuki gives the pair of them a nod, holding up a hand to izuku who looks like he wants to follow them out of the bar, despite the pounding in his chest and the way he suddenly feels unsteady on his feet as they leave the building to step right back out into the cool, fall air.

kirishima’s stance is awkward and since neither of them smoke, they both just stand there, barely looking at each other and waiting for the other person to speak up first.

“fuckin’ hell- what’d you wanna talk about kirishima?” katsuki grits out, tired of the waiting game and suddenly, immediately, so exhausted. all he wants to do is be curled up beside you, with your all seeing eyes and gentle utterances of “bambi” in his ear.

the tact he’d lost in his haste to get this over with stings kirishima whose brows furrow in annoyance. “what do i want to talk about? i haven’t seen you in a year, bakugou, not since i moved out and you completely cut me off with no explanation whatsoever. i want to know why. what - what did i do wrong?”

his voice breaks on the last word and it sounds so sad, so uncharacteristically eijirou, that katsuki flinches, finally looking over at kirishima to see a broken, pleading man who lost his best friend for nothing more than silly, stupid feelings.

at once, katsuki feels all the fucking idiot asshole he is and it’s staggering how much that thought makes him feel like shit. he could’ve reached out, he could’ve, but he was so worried that he wouldn’t have been able to keep it together, spending time with kiri, and as time passed, the issue became that so much time had passed and he had no idea how to navigate this all over again.

he runs a hand over his face, leaning against the brick facade of the bar. “fuck,” he whispers, gravel crunching underfoot as kiri steps closer.

“i - i miss you, kats,” kiri’s voice comes out quiet and thick, “i got engaged and all i wanted to do was call you, but you weren’t there, you weren’t speaking to me and i-“ he takes a shuddering breath and katsuki’s eyes fill with tears.

“i was in love with you.”

the sounds of the street fade out as katsuki finally turns to look at kirishima, the tears falling down his cheeks.

“wha- bakugou, what?”

“i was in love with you and i couldn’t fuckin’ - i couldn’t do it. not to myself, not to you.”

kirishima face is drawn, pale and mouth gaping. his mouth closes, then opens again, then snaps shut, his head shaking in disbelief.

“why didn’t you - fuck - why didn’t you ever say anything, man?”

katsuki scoffs, the sound wet with grief. “are you shittin’ me? why the hell would i do that?”

kiri shrugs, long, dark lashes sweeping his cheekbones, leaving tiny wet marks. a year ago, the sight would’ve filled katsuki with rabid butterflies, but now it remains just an observation, one made passively and without thinking.

“i should’ve told you somethin’, i fuckin’ know that now, but i was - i was scared. scared of you hating me, scared of losing you. but i went and fucked that one up anyway, so,” katsuki laughs, self deprecating, and kirishima shakes his head vehemently, grabbing him by the shoulder and pulling him into a tight hug.

katsuki’s throat is tight as he gives into the embrace, burying his face into kirishima’s shoulder.

“you haven’t lost me, kats, and you never will,” kirishima whispers, pulling apart far enough to press his forehead to katsuki’s, red eyes meeting red. “i mean, who else is gonna be my best man?”

katsuki’s eyes widen and he takes a step back. “don’t fuck with me.”

kirishima shakes his head, a wet laugh escaping his lips. “not fucking with you bro. you’re my best friend. i want you there beside me on the happiest day of my life.”

after everything, after the year of no contact and the absolutely shitty way katsuki treated him, kirishima still wants katsuki by his side?

he’s honored, he’s out of his depth, he’s fucking nauseous, and he really wants to go home and tell you.

“i met someone,” he blurts and kirishima looks startled at the change of subject, but takes it in stride, a smile tugging at his face.

“that’s so great, dude, congrats! what’s their name?”

katsuki breathes it out and when he does, he realizes something, the force of it hitting him like a steel beam to the head.

“i think i’m in love with them.”

kirishima blinks, taking in katsuki’s tense form. he looks like he’s about to run away.

“i’m so happy for you, kats. really, i am,” kiri says, before being taken off guard yet again by the hug katsuki initiates.

“of course i’ll be your best man, shitty hair. i fuckin’ missed you too,” he murmurs and he hears kirishima sniffle. “i gotta go but text me and we’ll get lunch tomorrow or some shit, okay? i’ve got a lot to catch up on.”

he pulls away to see eijirou’s big wet eyes stare down at him with unabashed care and love, and katsuki feels his heart swell.

he got his best friend back and now it’s time to get you.

kirishima agrees to the meetup wholeheartedly and lets katsuki go with a hearty pat on the back and a shouted “good luck!” over the sound of the rain that started up during the last moments of conversation before going back inside the bar.

katsuki considers blasting his way to you, but he knows the optics would be incredibly unfavorable and his pr department would have his head, so he races to the train station instead and hops aboard, his mind racing with thoughts of you.

his hair is plastered to his forehead with rain by the time he gets to his apartment building and the button up is molded to his body like a second skin. he’s uncomfortable, of course, but he hardly pays it any mind because before he knows it, he’s unlocking and pushing open the door to your shared flat.

he’s home.

you startle from your place upside down on the couch, your paints and sketchbook cluttering the coffee table at the side while the tv plays an ancient looking cooking show quietly.

katsuki is bowled over by the sight, the weight of what he now knows as love sending him stumbling a little on his feet. he has to hold onto the doorjamb to keep his footing.

you sit up, observing, and you tilt your head. “you’re back early,” you comment, curiosity lacing your words.

he nods, not trusting his voice as finally steps past the threshold, kicking off his shoes and putting on a pair of hideous hawks themed slippers that you’d bought for him on your own birthday.

you hum thoughtfully before standing and disappearing down the hallway, katsuki’s eyes glued to you as you go. he can hear the sounds of you rummaging around in the bathroom, his feet frozen to the floor when you return, a fluffy towel in hand.

“you should shower, of course,” you say with a grin, opening up the towel and draping it over his head to dry it before moving on to the rest of his sopping body. “but i figured i’d keep you from dripping all over that ugly rug you’re obsessed with.”

katsuki doesn’t respond, can’t, and you don’t push or question, instead diligently wiping him down until he’s marginally more dry, eg, not actively dripping on the hardwood.

you move to go dispose of the towel and katsuki’s hand shoots out, not of his own volition, to hold you in place. it’s here he notices how close you’ve been standing to him, your breath wafting over his collarbones.

“bambi?” you question, unafraid of him, just lightly confused, but you don’t move away from him, somehow picking up his need for closeness without him saying anything, and he snaps.

“i love you,” he whispers, the explosion in his chest coming out in just those three gruff words, his carmine eyes boring into your own with an intensity you match.

a small smile spreads over your lips and your eyes light up, joy thrumming over your skin. “i love you too, katsuki.”

it’s perfect and katsuki can’t stop himself from cupping your face and pressing your lips together.

the kiss is gentle and chaste, your hands dropping the towel, coming up to rest on his forearms and holding him in place as you move your lips softly against his own.

katsuki feels like the rest of the world could implode right now, could be on fire or flooding or being overrun by villains and none of it would matter, not a single fucking thing because you’re in his arms and you’re kissing him back and you love him.

these thoughts ignite a hunger in him, a flame stoking in his belly, and he pushes further into the kiss, his hands sliding from their place on your face. one cups the back of your neck while the other slides down your back, pressing you firmly against the front of his body.

he’s almost giddy, having you like this, and he’s sure you can feel it because you’re smiling into the kiss like this is the happiest day of your life.

he thinks it’s his.

you continue trading kisses like this in your foyer, but it only escalates when your tongue flickers across katsuki’s bottom lip and you sigh softly, back arching against him.

katsuki has to break apart from you so he doesn’t consume you in that moment, but you don’t go far (you never do), your foreheads pressed together while you breathe in each others air.

“fuckin’ hell,” he chokes out and you laugh. “can i please - fuck - i need you.”

his honesty shuts you up quick and you nod, biting your lip. “take me to bed, bambi.”

and that he does.

katsuki’s hand finds yours and he pulls you towards his bedroom — you’ve been in there countless times, to watch movies, to nap, to read with one another, but of course, it was never like this.

the tension is thick but it’s not uncomfortable at all. you walk over to his bed and plop down on it like you’ve been in this situation a thousand times. the action soothes any residual anxiety katsuki might’ve had as he walks over to you, your heated gaze tracking his movements the entire time.

“take this shit off,” he grumbles, tugging at the garish all might crewneck covering your abdomen and you swat his hand away with an amused look.

he can feel his pout forming at your smile, but you just shake your head. “don’t tell me what to do, bambi,” but still, you raise grip the bottom of the thick fabric, lifting it up and over your head before letting it drop to the ground, leaving you bare.

or almost bare, if not for the objectively hideous, brightly colored, thin, cheap and lacey dynamight themed underwear covering your body.

“what the fuck is this?” katsuki doesn’t mean for his question to come out so reverent, but seeing you clad in his colors sends a bolt of heat down his spine so strong, he’s quite literally never been harder in his life.

you don’t seem to notice (but you always do), tilting your head at him with a grin playing on your lips. “they were on sale. didn’t think you’d ever see them.”

katsuki’s brows furrow at that, his hands tightening from their place on your hips. “who the fuck else was going to?”

you shake your head, like there’s something he isn’t getting. “no one. it’s always been you.”

“fuckin’-“ katsuki surges for you, claiming your lips with his with an urgency that had previously been lost. you respond in kind and this time, you’re letting out all these quiet gasps and sighs, writhing beneath him. he has to see you fall apart.

he reluctantly detaches his face from yours, kissing down your neck and sucking marks into the thin skin there, one of your hands sliding up to tangle into his hair, keeping him close.

a moan escapes him at the feeling of your fingers on his scalp, nearly getting lost in the mindless action, but he has to keep going. he makes it to your chest, laving his tongue over one of your nipples, flicking the hardened bud with the tip.

“f-fuck, bambi,” you outright moan and katsuki has to grind down against the mattress, his free hand sliding to pinch and pull at your other nipple.

your body can’t figure out whether to arch towards or away from his ministrations, which katsuki takes special delight in. you’re always so in control of yourself, even when you’re not, so it’s beyond rewarding to be responsible for your destruction.

“bambi - fuck - ‘suki, fuck me,” you groan and katsuki’s eyes roll back before he pulls off your nipple with a pop, his lips red and slick.

“nah.”

“nah?” you parrot, leaning up on your elbows with the closest thing he’s seen to annoyance directed at him written all over your face.

“nah. ‘m gonna make you come first.” katsuki grins, feral, and you shudder.

“get to it then, hero.” the moniker, while meant to be sarcastic and biting, just makes katsuki moan, hooking his fingers in the waistband of your (dynamight !!) underwear and tossing them to the floor.

he leans in, propping up one of your legs over his shoulder to bury his nose in the crease between hip and thigh, inhaling deeply. you smell sharp and tangy and so you that he couldn’t stop himself from taking a lick, entrance to clit, if he tried.

you sigh at that first touch of his wet muscle, melting in the bed while one hand remains buried in his hair and the other splays above your head. you watch him move with that intense look and you don’t look away so he doesn’t either.

he doesn’t look away as he slurps loudly at your entrance, tasting the wetness that’s gathered there with a pleased hum. doesn’t look away as he swirls his tongue around your clit, pulling a sharp gasp from your chest. doesn’t look away as he picks up pace, swirling, flicking and sucking until you’re chanting his name and “bambi,” your body tensing up as you buck your hips up into his face. doesn’t look away when you cum hard, soaking his lips and chin to which he eagerly groans, slurping up all you have to offer.

you pull him up to stop him from licking you through your aftershocks, kissing him hard once he gets to eye level.

“please,” you beg, eyes wide and urgent. who is he to deny you or himself?

katsuki stands and shucks off his boxers in record time, wrapping a hand around his cock that’s hard and leaking, the tip bright red.

your eyes eat him up hungrily, lingering on the way his precum spills over his knuckles with every slow stroke.

“i’m gonna suck your pretty cock tomorrow, preferably before breakfast,” you comment breathlessly. katsuki has to wrap his fingers around the base of his cock to keep himself from coming in that moment, taking a deep breath and glaring at you when you giggle.

“condom?” you shake your head, leaning back and spreading your legs to show off the wet mess he’s made of you.

“‘m clean and i’m in love with you. fuck me. now.” you can’t even sound commanding, not with the whine lying beneath your words, giving away how bad you want him. how bad you want this.

if the way katsuki’s cock legitimately jumped at your words is anything to go by, he obviously feels the same.

“goddamit, can’t fuckin’ say shit like that to me, jesus,” he rambles, crawling back onto the bed and notching the fat head of his dick into your entrance before leaning down to kiss you, open mouthed and messy.

he pushes into you when your tongue is halfway down his throat and he nearly chokes on it. you’re so soft and wet and velvety — he’s gonna cum so fucking fast, holy shit.

of course, you know it too, know him like the back of your hand because you squeeze even tighter around him and slide your hand down between your bodies to rub frantically at your clit.

“you - oh, god, you feel so fucking good bambi, fucking me so well, always taking care of me,” your words slur together as your eyes roll back, his hips slamming into yours at a quick pace.

he wants you to cum first, wants it more than anything, but the dirty talk coupled with the way you feel clenching around him has him shooting off faster than he expected, a low, long whine leaving him.

his hips stutter against yours and fireworks go off behind his eyelids. it feels like he’s coming forever as he humps into you and that feeling is only prolonged by you coming around him, your cunt clenching so tightly, you force him out, his spend spreading all over your mons and pelvis with a choked groan.

after another long moment, he slumps against you, exhausted and happier than he’s ever been.

you hum contentedly, wrapping your arm around him to pull him half on top of you, your body succumbing to the tiredness that’s so quickly overtaken you.

“i love you, katsuki,” you whisper, the phrase thick with sleep and emotion. katsuki feels burning at the backs of his eyes so he buries his face in the crook of your neck to hide, kissing your shoulder when the words don’t come.

you know, though. you always do.

—

“fuck, bambi, we’re gonna be late!” you screech from your (now) shared room, the sound muffled from where your head is buried in the closet.

by the door, katsuki is trying (and failing) to tie his bow tie, the red fabric remaining uncooperative in his hands. he groans in frustration, raising a hand to run it through his hair but stopping short when he remembers how you painstakingly fixed it for him a few hours ago.

“i know! it’s this stupid fuckin’ tie!” he shouts back, staring at himself in the little mirror you purchased, smiling a little despite himself when he remembers that trip to the home decor store with you, picking out new items that represent the both of you for your apartment.

speak of the devil, you step up behind him, looking gorgeous in a red, floor length dress, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“you look really good bambi,” you grin, fingers dragging down his abdomen to rest on his waistband, but his hands stop your downward motion while he gives you a halfhearted glare through the reflection.

“don’t start that shit,” katsuki turns around in your hold to face you, your hands immediately finding his undone tie. you work efficiently, face so scrunched up and focused that katsuki can only lift your face to press a kiss to your lips.

you melt, kissing him back easily and when you pull away, his lips are tinged with your lip products, marked by you. “you have a little something…” you trail off, wiping it away, not realizing how he stares at you like you’re the sun and he has no other choice but to revolve around you.

“marry me,” katsuki blurts, heat burning at the tips of his ears after a moment of you looking at him in utter disbelief.

he worries for a split second that you’re going to say no, but then your face splits into the most blinding smile he’s ever seen.

“are you proposing to me right now, bakugou katsuki?” you tease, fingers toying with the tie around his neck.

he nods, his hands finding your waist as he pulls you closer to him. “so what if i am?”

you laugh and nod, tears filling your lash line as the lighthearted facade drops to reveal you, earnest and honest and so so in love with him.

katsuki has no idea how he got so lucky, what he did in a past life to have you in his life and agreeing to be with him, in his life forever.

“of fucking course, i’ll marry you,” you say, grabbing his face and kissing him hard. “and i want nothing more than to make love to you on our brand new ikea sofa, but if we’re late to kiri’s wedding, he’s gonna kill me and make you watch.”

even the empty threat you make through your happy tears centers you in katsuki’s life, like you know that you are the center of his world, of his entire universe. you always know, know him better than he knows himself and there isn’t anyone on this whole earth who he’d rather be with than you.

he doesn’t tell you any of this though, blinking back tears instead and agreeing with a laugh, before finally ushering the pair of you out the door.

the thing is, katsuki doesn’t have to tell you.

you already know.

#bakugou katsuki #mha bakugou #bnha bakugou #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bnha #katsuki x reader #katsuki x you #bakugou x you #kirishima eijirou #kirishima x bakugou #bnha smut #bnha angst #hurt/comfort #[ baby daddy : katsuki ]#[ instant nut : n/sft ]#[ i <3 writing : my works ]

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venriliz · 20 days

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Ramón Garrido.

made a lil' cowboy for @acuar-io's simblr outlaws! <3

his backstory below! :] (it's long-ish bc i got carried away lmfao and it also got surprisingly sad?)

Name: Ramón Francisco Garrido Age: 27 years (born in 1865 in a village near Chestnut Ridge) Crimes: Armed robbery, money laundering and smuggling Bounty: 12000 Simoleons (dead or alive ) Current Location: Unknown

There are many stories told about Ramón Garrido around the campfires or in the local saloons, and while most of them are either complete fabrications or exaggerations, there is one truth about him that everyone knows - this man has a bad temper and he will let you know about it.

He already had a rough start in life with his family being the outsiders of the village for as long as he could remember. Many outrageous tales were spun about them behind their backs, telling of the Garrido family to be able to read other people's minds and even being able to control them aswell.

This is the result of a mysterious incident that happened in the early 1800's - the first alien invasion in the area and maybe even on earth as a whole. Almost half of the village's population vanished without a trace and while a handful of them returned months later without a single memory of the incident, most were never seen again. Pablo Garrido - Ramón's grandfather was one of the "lucky" ones who came back and even though the man was mostly unharmed, he still returned with a little "souvenir". (he was pregnant with Ramón's mother. Alien pregnancy, you know the gist lol)

Now, years later the Garridos still suffer from this incident known in the area as the "Green Ambush" and while Ramón and his siblings didn't inherit many alien features from their mother, their ancestry is still quite obvious and impossible to hide. The mistrust and bad treatment they experienced by the other villagers has left Ramón to grow up into a stoic, suspicious and at times cold-hearted man only loyal to himself and his family. In his early adult-life work was hard to find with job opportunities being sparse to begin with - the bad reputation of his family didn't help much either.

Soon, Ramón found himself drifting into a life of crime, even becoming part of a local gang of outlaws where he honed his newly discovered talents - lying and pistol whipping. Life in the gang turned out to be surprisingly easy for Ramón and even though he has never been proud of his crimes, he mostly sees the benefit of being able to provide for his family back home while also living a somewhat comfortable life himself (whatever comfortable means for an outlaw).

His crime spree together with his gang lasted 3 years until a botched heist got most of them locked up or killed. Ramón barely made it out alive, had to flee the area and now causes fear and chaos far away from home as a lone outlaw with a hefty bounty on his head.

#i had to insert aliens somehow °.° sorry not sorry #maybe i'll do an edit for him some time but i just wanted to get these pics and the story out rn :']#i just realized that it's 3am... maybe i should go to sleep now #also sorry for my possibly bad english it's not my first language hehe #simblroutlaws #simblr #ts4 #sims 4 #sims 4 cas #sims 4 ocs

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ivysoul · 1 year

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CHERRY *ੈ✩‧˚ LEON SCOTT KENNEDY — PART I. [3.3k]

༊*·˚ in which your dad leaves you under the watchful eye of his best friend, leon kennedy, when he’s away on vacation.

[♱] series warnings — age gap (38 & 20), sexual themes, arguing, cheating, overbearing father, angst. more warnings to be added.

[♱] individual chapter warnings — afab!reader, leon’s a bit of a perv, smut, dub-con, oral (m), unprotected p n v, rough sex, one spank, praise, creampie, reader has a serious attitude problem lmfao, + might be some i’m missing, so lmk if there is.

[♱] notes — this is my first ever series i am shitting my pants stop. i’m excited tho !!! smut galore btw bc i am a fucking whore !! like i’m talkin smut every chapter type beat. anyways, please give me feedback, i desire it carnally. also not proofread. special dt @ouchvns bc they were probably more excited abt this than i was LMAO.

series masterlist. ୨୧ next.

༊*·˚ You could feel the anger bubbling in your chest as you looked back and forth at your father and his friend, who you knew, of course. Leave it to your dad to get you a babysitter at your grand old age of twenty years old while he’s out on vacation. When he offered to let you stay at the house while he was away, you had no idea it would come with its own terms and conditions—those being Leon Kennedy himself.

You sighed deeply through your nose as your dad went on and on about rules. You were zoning out through the entire thing, utterly wishing you could just go back up to your room and avoid Leon as a whole (and saying goodbye to your dad. Call it petty, you didn’t care. Petty is what you were).

“Oh, and curfew is 12AM.”

Your eyes shot open so fast you were surprised they didn’t end up on the floor. Mouth falling agape, you just stared blankly at him, hoping it was just some joke and he would take it back. But nope! Classic ol’ dad!

“Are you serious? A curfew?” What you hated the most was that he looked confused as to why you were so upset. “Dad, I’m twenty years old. I don’t need a curfew or a damn babysitter,” you groaned, pointing to Leon. To which he muttered a quiet ‘ouch’.

Your dad shook his head and pursed his lips. “I’m not gonna argue with you about this. Leon’s gonna watch you for the three weeks that I’m gone, and I trust that he’ll take good care of you,” he looked to Leon, “right, Leon?”

Leon smiled at the man as he spoke. “Of course,” and then turned his head to you, his smile falling into a small smirk without even meaning to. “I’ll take very good care of her.”

Leon would be lying if he said he wasn’t attracted to you, at least a little bit. The way your hair was long enough to frame your face perfectly, or the way your lips looked when you put your favourite gloss on them. Your clothes always seemed to fit and frame your body perfectly, allowing every curve and dip to be beautifully accentuated. But physical looks aside, Leon also loved how intelligent yet carefree you were. He loved how your personality reminded him so much of the sun—if you weren’t angry, that is. But he also loved your anger. How you made your feelings known and always spoke about what had made you so angry. Everything about you screamed to Leon that you were the most perfect person he’s ever laid his eyes upon, and every time he was around you, it only further proved to be true.

You rolled your eyes and scoffed, looking anywhere but the two men in front of you. Your dad smiled and patted Leon on his shoulder before walking up to you, giving you a peck on the cheek, and bidding his farewells. As soon as the door closed behind him, the air grew thick with awkward tension. Your eyes just stared at where his body had disappeared behind the door, as if attempting to summon lasers that drop onto him from above. Leon chuckled airily and shook his head as he looked to the ground.

Your head snapped towards him, eyebrows furrowed and still angry. “What’s so funny?” you asked through gritted teeth.

“Oh, nothing, y’know…” Leon looked at you and saw what type of look you had in your eye. He shouldn’t have found it amusing, really, but he did. And he laughed again.

“Yeah, I’m sure you have soooo much to laugh about, Scott,” he cringed at the use of his middle name. “I bet this whole situation is just so funny to you.”

He nodded and puckered his lips, pretending to think for a moment. “It is, yeah. And don’t call me “Scott,” it’s weird.”

“Sure thing, Scott,” you mumbled loud enough for him to hear as you walked away, heading upstairs to do god-knows-what in your room.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

A few days went by and Leon’s babysitting was still just as unbearable as the first.

Every time you’d go to leave the house, he’d interrogate you on where you were going, who you were going with, when you’d be back (because you had to be back), and if the place you were going to was known to be a safe area. The treatment made you feel like a kid again. You shouldn’t be mad at Leon for it, as he was just following the orders your dad had given him, but you were.

Today though, you had managed to slip out of the house without Leon noticing. Sure he had called you about ten times and left you numerous texts and voicemails, but you weren’t answering any of them. You’d even opted to turn your phone completely off.

Though you could barely even focus on what your friends were saying. Your mind was on you dad and why he would even do this. You knew he was protective of you, but when you turned twenty this year, he calmed down a bit. This was like a whole setback of six years.

“Babe? You okay?”

You turned to your boyfriend, Oliver, who had his arm securely wrapped around your waist, rubbing up and down your side. He had a look of concern on his face.

You smiled sweetly and placed a soft kiss to his lips. “‘Course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

One of your friends, Maeve, placed a french fry in her mouth and hummed at your question. “You looked kind of… zoned out. Like, you’re not really here right now.”

“Yeah, are you alright?” Cora, your other friend since elementary school, asked. Her brows were furrowed and she was looking across your face as if to see any hidden confessions lying underneath. She was always able to, the best out of anyone in your life.

You nodded. Sighed. And then confessed.

“Y’know that guy that my dad hired to look after me while he’s away? Well he’s been like, super overbearing. And I know it’s just because my dad told him what to do and all, but it’s still so fucking annoying. Can’t even leave the house without getting attacked with questions. And it’s—”

“Well isn’t this a surprise.”

You didn’t even have to look behind you to know who it was. Unfortunately, you were pretty well acquainted with the voice by now. How in the hell did he find you? Did he put a damn tracker on you that you were unaware of or something?

“Your dad wants you back home. C’mon.”

Your friends all sighed, Oliver squeezed your waist tighter as if to keep you seated. You turned your head to look at Leon. He had an irritated glint in his eyes, yet his kept his voice surprisingly calm.

“Are you serious? You’re taking me away from my friends now?” You complained, placing a hand on your boyfriend’s one on your side. Leon noticed it and almost let out a laugh.

“It’s not me, it’s your dad,” he said simply. “Now let’s go.”

Groaning, you looked to your friends and apologized. They all looked at you with their own apologetic gazes but said their goodbyes. And you took Oliver’s face in your hands and kissed him warmly. “Love you.”

He smiled. “I love you, too.”

As soon as you got inside the house, with Leon not too far behind you, you kicked your shoes off and headed for the stairs. However, his voice sternly called you back down.

“D’you know how worried he was?” His angry glare had stayed since you got into the car with him. Etched onto his face like a tattoo the entire time. “How worried I was?”

“Do you know how annoying it is to have you practically sit on me every damn day?! To have you watch my every move?”

“I’m following orders.”

“I’m so fucking sick of that excuse.”

Leon scoffed and shook his head, averting his gaze to the ground as he placed his hands on his hips. He honestly didn’t know what to say. And neither did you. You two had argued about this every day since he first arrived. And every time it would end the same way: you storming up to your room after yelling your throat raw, not to be heard or seen of again until you need to be let out of the house.

Let out. Like you were a fucking dog.

With a roll of your eyes, you turned on your heels and headed up the stairs, making sure to have your frustration shown through your heavy steps.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Hours went by as you scrolled aimlessly on your phone. You had already finished a book and got caught up on your favourite show, and you were now realizing just how thirsty you were. You checked the time on your phone, the big white numbers that read 3:27AM stared back at you. You weren’t even sure how you weren’t tired yet.

With a sigh, you rolled from your bed, bare feet hitting the cold floor with little pit-pats every time you took a step. The hallways were dark and quiet, the only light was from your phone’s flashlight as you made your way around the very familiar corners of the house. Being out of the comfort of your warm blankets made you realize just how cold you were in only an oversized t-shirt and a pair of your favourite wine coloured lacy underwear. But you didn’t care much to make your way back to your room as you were now approaching the kitchen.

The kitchen that you noticed was lit up. Turning off your mobile flashlight, you stepped closer to the kitchen cautiously and slowly. Once you saw Leon leaning against the counter, you calmed down, but your anger started to bubble up again at the same time. You weren’t sure how that was possible. He looked up at you, eyes lifting from the glass he had in his hands, and then he tilted his entire head up to look at you properly.

His eyes nearly widen when he takes in your clothes—or lack thereof. Your plush thighs on full display and your obvious lack of a bra had his head spinning. God, he was so weird. For imagining what your tits would look like out of the confines of your shirt, but at the same time he didn’t have to do much thinking. The cold made your nipples hard, and they poked through the shirt. He had to look away and hope that you didn’t notice his lingering gaze.

He cleared his throat. “What’re you doin’ up?”

You dismissed his question entirely, taking note of his glass and the liquid in it. Alcohol, of course. You reached into the cabinet to grab a glass, causing your shirt to rise up to your lower belly. Leon blinked. “Isn’t it bad to drink on the job?”

“Honestly, I think a drink or two kinda helps with your attitude.”

Again, you dismissed him. Leon knew now was probably the best time to say what he had been thinking since your last argument, the words he had been trying to come up with since getting the anger out of him. But even then, he’s not great at this. So it’s not going to be ideal.

He sighed through his nose, squeezing his eyes shut. “Look, I’m uh— I’m sorry about earlier,” you stopped breathing. “But you have to understand that I’m just doing what your dad told me to do—”

“—Bullshit.”

Leon blinked, unintentionally giving you the silence you needed to continue.

“Last time I checked, my dad’s not even here. You don’t have to do everything he says because he’s not here to reprimand you if you don’t. So I like I said earlier, when you were giving that same, shitty excuse, I’m sick of hearing it.”

Maybe he hadn’t chosen the best words to say, and maybe he shouldn’t be the judge of his own character in this situation, but fuck, he didn’t think he was being that much of an asshole. He could be, but he wasn’t.

“I’m trying to apologize here could you—”

“—No, because it’s just gonna be that same stupid excuse—”

Leon stopped listening then. You rambled on and on and perhaps it may have felt good for you to get things off your chest, and you probably did need it considering who your father was, it’s just that Leon couldn’t, for the life of him, get the image of your pretty lips wrapped around his cock out of his head. No matter how hard he tried.

Leon was a man of self-control. He prided himself on that, in fact. He was able to remain calm in tough situations, he kept his cool when someone was pissing him off. But you. You were a whole other story. A walking pile of anger that wouldn’t dissipate. Your attitude was sickening and the thought of being in a room with you for more than ten minutes was repugnant to him. Yet all he was thinking about right now was stuffing your mouth full. Keeping you from talking for two fucking seconds.

He couldn’t stand it anymore. The echoey sound of your voice raging on as he zoned out with the vulgar image in his mind, the vulgar image being just that; an image.

He wanted it to be a reality.

He needed it to be.

Within seconds Leon was in front of you, roughly grabbing your waist with one hand and a fistful of your hair in the other. His lips were on yours before you could even comprehend what was going on. The taste of alcohol on his tongue and the overwhelming feeling of him took over your mind. Like a dark storm that hovered over the bright fields of good decisions and common sense. It rained down faster than it ever had, and now, all you could think about was Leon.

All the anger, all the detest, it lingered and mixed with need. For Leon, it was the same. The feeling of your chest pressed against his upper abdomen drove him insane. He could feel your pert nipples through both your shirts. He wanted to ravish you right then and there.

His hand on your waist travelled lower to your ass, groping the flesh harshly.

“‘M so—fucking—tired—of—your—attitude,” his sentence was broken into single words because neither of you could keep your mouths apart for long.

Until he finally managed to part from you. Your mouth, at least. Because your neck was the next place to get attacked. He placed wet, open-mouthed kisses from your pulse point to the base of your neck and trailed his tongue across your jawline.

“Leon,” he ignored you. “Leon—”

“—Shut up.” With two of his hands on your shoulders, you were on your knees within a blink of an eye, looking up at him as he looked down at you. The cold smirk he held on his face sent shivers up your spine. “Gonna fill your mouth, fuck the attitude outta you.”

Leon pushed down his sweatpants and boxers swiftly, revealing his hard cock. He grabbed it at the base, tapping his red, leaky tip on your lips, prompting you to open your mouth. Once you did, he didn’t give you time to take things slow as he shoved his cock into your mouth all at once. His tip hit the back of your throat and made you gag momentarily.

He groaned loudly at the feeling and made a makeshift ponytail with his hand at the back of your head, moving your head and using your mouth to his liking.

“Fuck, sweetheart. Y’got such a perfect little mouth. Shame you use more to talk than to do this.”

Tears brimmed your eyes, falling over and running down your flushed cheeks. The noises that were made were obscene but it only spurred you on. You could feel the wetness pooling in your panties pretty quickly.

You could tell Leon was getting close eventually. His breaths picked up and small little whimpers fell over his lips. His cock twitched in your mouth and you prepared yourself to take his cum down your throat, but he pulled you off of him before that could happen.

“‘M gonna fuck you now,” he groaned. “Gonna ruin this little cunt, yeah?”

He lifted you up off your knees before bending you over the counter. You heard a ripping noise and you knew he just ripped your damn underwear off. You wanted to be mad at him for that, but you found the words you were going to say leaving your head when he ran his cock up and down your slit, rubbing briefly against your clit.

Then he pushed in, fully sheathing himself within you in one thrust. You screamed out, the pain and the pleasure mixing together to create something so intoxicating. He was kind this time though, and stayed still so you could adjust to his thick size.

Before long, you were pushing back against him as a way to signal him to move, and of course he obliged. He began a brutal pace right away, completely forgetting to build up to it.

“You feel so good, baby. So fucking good f’me,” he breathed, delivering a hard smack to your ass and watching the red hand print form in its wake. You yelped at the action.

You loved how he was rougher with you. It’s what you wanted from Oliver in bed, and you’d even brought it up to him, but he was heavily against it. He was too soft with you, but Leon, the only thing soft about him were his words. It was a good balance that had you reeling.

Moan after moan and whine after whine left your mouth as you neared your release embarrassingly quickly. It was almost like Leon knew (he did), because his thrusts got deeper, rougher. The tip of cock reached your cervix and within seconds you were clamping down on him, walls spasming and body shaking uncontrollably.

“There y’go, sweets. Feels good, huh?” He was after his own release now, which wasn’t that far behind. His hips moved quickly and his hands were harshly gripping your hips, sure to leave bruises there by the morning. “I’m so close, baby. Gonna milk me dry, huh? Gonna have me cum in you? Fill you up? Yeah. Yeah, ‘m gonna fill you up nice and full. Send you t’bed with my cum still dripping outta you.”

“Please! P-Please, Leon. Need it s’bad.”

He stayed true to his word. His orgasm crashed through him like a wave, he spilled into you as he shoved himself as deep as he could go. He’s never came as much as he did then, or moaned the way he did. When he pulled out, hissing from the sensitivity, his spend mixed with yours pooled out of you almost immediately, dripping onto the floor.

With a soft chuckle and a shake of his head, he grabbed some paper towel and wet it to clean you up. When he ran it over your cunt, you jolted slightly.

“Just cleanin’ you up, hun. Don’t worry,” he grimaced at your ripped underwear on the floor, now puzzled as to what to put on you, before his mind went to his boxers that sat next to the ripped underwear.

He carried you back to your bed after he got you cleaned up, redressed, and gave you some water. You sleepily smiled up at him with your head on your pillow. “For an asshole, you really know how to make a woman feel good.”

He reciprocated your smile, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear and placing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Get some sleep, angel.”

☆ — © saintlulls, 2023 - don’t repost, translate, copy, or claim.

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy smut #resident evil #resident evil 2 #resident evil 2 remake #re2 #re2r #re2 remake #resident evil smut #smut #cherry *ੈ✩‧₊˚ saintlulls #saintlulls #ivysoulnsfw

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silentslxmber · 3 months

Text

↪ brat tendencies

✰┊toji x reader ,, 18+ mdni!!

✰┊ warnings: degradation, choking, hair pulling, slight overstim, name calling (whore, slut), light bondage

✰┊ w.c. ~1k

✰┊ note: made a whole new tumblr... to be horny online. enjoy lmfao

really, you should have seen this coming. you'd been fucking around with toji for months now, you knew how he was. a small part of you just preferred to push his buttons and reap the consequences.

those consequences being fucked within an inch of your life.

"i fuckin' told you to stop being a brat, you just never want to listen to me, too much of a slut," the man's words sent a shiver down your spine, his tone low. his eyes burned a hole into your back, and his hands yanked your wrists from your sides. before you could protest or even make a sound, his belt was being yanked off of his waist, and being looped around your forearms, securing them in place firmly.

"can't trust you to keep your hands to yourself, can i?" he growled, leaning down directly next to your ear. his hand snaked up to your neck, and his thumb rubbed gently over your jawline before he tightened his hand around your throat.

"dirty whores like you don't get the privilege of breathing, not with the way you acted tonight," he chuckles, his grip tightening just a bit as he pulls himself back from pressing you into the bed.

"toji... 'm sorry!" you whine out, rubbing your thighs together in need. he scoffs at your words, and yanks your skirt down, sucking his teeth at the sight of the wet spot on your panties. "should have known a little slut like you would get off on this," he scoffs.

you can only moan desperately in response as his hand slips between your thighs, dipping under your panties to thumb at your clit. you push yourself down, trying to grind against his hand for more friction, and he only chuckles, before pulling his hand away and completely pulling your underwear down.

"you know... i like you better without that bratty mouth you've got, always getting on my last nerve when i wanted to have a nice night with you," you open your mouth to protest his comment, and he smirks, shoving your underwear into your mouth at the action. it's humiliating, the way you can taste your own arousal on the fabric, and you can tell the man loves the sight of your embarrassment.

he finally moves to unbutton his pants, taking in the sight of you. your top is still on, though by now its ridden up to expose your chest, and your thighs glisten with arousal. your arms are pressed against your back, drool starting to leak down your lips as you whine around the fabric stuffed in between them.

"what a pretty fuckin' whore," he mumbles, before pushing his pants and boxers down to his feet. "a real shame you've got an attitude problem... guess i'll have to fuck it out of you." you let out a soft moan as he presses a hand down on your stomach, trailing it to your thighs to shove them apart. he grins at the sight of you, the wetness glistening on your pussy making his dick throb.

"be good, not going to prep you for this. you didn't earn that tonight." you whine, and he strokes himself, once, twice, staring straight down at you, before kneeling over you and thrusting into you fully in one go. a gasping moan leaves you as he pulls almost all the way out, inhaling sharply before slamming back into you.

your brain starts to fog at the feeling of being stretched so full, and his hand moves back to your throat, squeezing gently. "better not start tapping out now, baby, we're not even close to finished."

and he wasn't lying about that, not a bit.

at some point, the panties muffling your sounds were yanked out of your mouth. he'd pressed his fingers down on your tongue instead, chuckling as you whined around them, sucking and licking at them even as he fucked into you to the point you couldn't cohesively form words. you'd lost count of the times you'd cum already, and your body and mind were starting to feel like jelly.

for as old as toji was, his stamina was unrivaled by anyone you'd ever been with. he was starting to slow down now, his breaths becoming sharper as he gripped your hips hard enough to bruise. "you got one more left in you for me, princess?" he asks lowly, his voice alone causing a weak heat to pool in your stomach. you manage a weak nod, wanting to make him proud.

his thrusts grow sloppy and slow as his thumb lazily circles your clit, and you start to moan and babble his name, your eyes glazed over with lust. with one final thrust, the knot that was tightening in your stomach snaps, and you cum as he finishes deep inside of you. his body rolls next to you, and he pants for a moment, before looking over at you with a lazy grin. after a moment of the both of you catching your breath, he pushes himself up and carefully rolls you onto your stomach, removing his belt from around your arms.

toji kisses your shoulder softly, rolling you over onto your back again as he stands from the bed.

"gonna get a rag for you, princess. thank you for tonight, you were perfect for me," he says gently, turning to leave before pausing and looking over his shoulder.

"one of these days, i'm gonna finally fuck those brat tendencies out of you."

thank you for reading!! toji brain rot is always too strong... anyways. if you have any rqs you'd like to see, feel free to send an ask. <3

#toji fushiguro #toji x reader #jjk #jjk x reader #toji smut #18+ mdni #oneshot

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hp-hcs · 10 months

Text

(Fine, I’ll do it my damn self: part 4 of my silly lil mlm stories <3)

Surrounded By Fucking Idiots (Chapter Two of Gay Awakening) — smitten! mattheo riddle x male! reader

TWs: implied violence

homeboy is s m i t t e n (also i tried to make him a little less ooc this time lmfao)

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Dude, why is Y/N in your bed?”

Mattheo yawned, blinking up at Blaise who was standing by the side of the bed, hands on his hips and an eyebrow raised.

Mattheo’s eyebrows furrowed as he turned his head to find you—sure enough—lying on your stomach, asleep, next to him. You had one hand loosely fisted in the front of Mattheo’s shirt, and he had his tangled in your hair.

Mattheo’s mouth suddenly went dry as he tried to think of any explanation, running over a dozen half-believable fibs in his mind.

However, Blaise interrupted him before he could spin an elaborate story. “I don’t care if you’re gay, Theo. You’re my friend. Just treat ‘im right, yeah?”

“How’d you-” Mattheo licked his lips. “How’d you know?”

“I have eyes, Riddle. Now, wake up your lover boy and come down for breakfast. I’m starving.”

Mattheo let out a soft huh as Blaise walked out, shaking his head to himself and muttering something about being “surrounded by idiots in fucking glass closets.”

~~~

That day was entirely and completely odd. Your masc friends wouldn’t even make eye contact with you while your fem friends would burst out into nervous giggles when you said hello, immediately coming up with some half-baked excuse to hurriedly run off.

“Theo,” you mumbled as you sat down for dinner next to him at the Slytherin table, the third years next to you instantly scooting away. “Why’s everyone avoiding me?”

“I wonder,” was muttered across the table by the chaser for Slytherin, Adrian, who pointedly stared down at his plate rather than anywhere else. Despite that, his fresh black eye was still clearly visible.

Mattheo smiled at you, saying nothing, but tugging at the hem of your shirtsleeve.

You glanced down, turning a beet red when you realized that you hadn’t taken off his quidditch jersey—the one he’d let you borrow to sleep in last night. “Oh-”

“Yep.”

Glancing around the Great Hall, it didn’t escape your notice that the eyes of the professors’ table kept falling from your face to Mattheo’s last name on the back of his jersey, doing mental gymnastics to figure out what was even going on.

“I think you should wear my last name more often, love. Really get the message across to everyone.”

“Oh, I think they got the message already, dickhead.”

He snickered and kissed the top of your head, a smug look on his face as your classmates purposefully kept their gaze in any direction but where you both were.

The only person who seemed entirely unbothered by the situation was Blaise, who was indifferently stirring sugar into his tea. “Congrats, Riddle. You’ve just sprinted out of the closet. Admirable, certainly, albeit entirely moronic.”

“Thanks, man. I appreciate your honesty.”

“No problem. It’s what friends are for, Theo.”

You just drop your head down onto the table, groaning to yourself. “I’m the one surrounded by fucking idiots.”

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Chapter Three

#harry potter #hp #mattheo riddle #x male reader #hp x male reader #these bitches gay good for them #they’re my silly little guys #mattheo riddle x male reader #mattheoxreader #hc that blaise zabini is aroace #blaise zabini #gay #fuck jkr

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miyaur · 1 year

Text

𝄞 — zhongli (gn!reader) — ❝ two is better than one! ❞

summary: your calm, sensible, and handsome boyfriend wants to take your relationship to the next level, ready for slow intimate moments together, but what would you think if you saw what double digits he had like down under!

a/n: saw a lovely fanart of zhongli, gave me big idea for a fic and i love zhongli so much :)!

warnings: nsfw, mentions of double dick zhongli (LMAO), riding, doggy style(?), dom!zhongli, sub!reader this time, don't know what else, enjoy though!

You and ZHONGLI have been dating for a bit, slowly and surely you both grow more deeply in love than before, Hu Tao mentions how horrifyingly you both looked like a cheesy teen couple in highschool on their first date.

Shopping, or getting some coffins from imported land with you and ZHONGLI is a nightmare, Hu Tao quoted. Both of you often glancing at each other and growing red, then looking away from each other once more, all wanted is for you both to just get the damn coffins into the carriage and back to home sweet home!!

Although this may have ticked Hu Tao off about how cheesy it all was, and as much as it is cheesy, it's nice seeing you, her close friend, finally getting along with your obvious crush for a bit now, aka ZHONGLI.

Finally putting the coffins back into the parlor, and in display, you both finally get "kicked out for being too cheesy", aka Hu Tao saying enjoy your date tonight!

Strolling through the streets of Liyue, small stares at each stall. You both fonally decided on just a small snack at Third Round Knockout to end off the day. ZHONGLI surprisingly paid this time though (must be a special night hmmm?)

Finally crashing down on the bed in ZHONGLI's home. Lying down, so tired from everything (eating and putting a coffin in a stroller and arranging it for display) that happened today. "Beloved, today I would like to.." he clears his throat, "Take our relationship to another level. "-We've been together for quite some time, and we both know we can't spend eternity with each other forever." You sat up looking confused, "So, what's the surprise, sweetheart?" you asked.

He pins you down with his geo-scattered hands onto the bed frame. "I would like to be intimate with you, at least just once, if you would allow it my love?" He said, breathing a bit heavy, not so hard to carry though. "Sure, what could go wrong, right?" You giggled. ZHONGLI's breath slowly getting closer to your neck, biting it, marking you as his.

You moaned slightly, whimpering at the sudden bites, "Mmm, your neck is sensitive isn't it, honey?" he said muffled, but understandable, you nod in a bit of excitement. He bites a bit more and let's go. ZHONGLI lies himself down and lets you hover on top of him. (ok u both are naked at this point dont ask how) You turn your head to see his cock(s) (LMFAO), dripping with precum. "O-oh.. I kinda see you only wanna do this just now.." "You never fail to amuse me, love"

Inserting one of them up your hole, you whine as it struggled to fit. slowly riding him, you both moan out each other's names. hours go by, many rounds have taken place, you both are a mess, he has you hands pinned to the bedframe, fucking you senseless, slowly noticing the belly bulge forming in your stomach. "Feel that, babe? That's the mark. The mark that shows my ownership over you, got it?" Your fucked dumb hazy expression was enough for him, fucking into you more, "s' close again 'li, just a lil' m-more.." you moaned out about to cum for the last time, this time with ZHONGLI.

"Me too, honey. Just- haah.. just wait a little long- haah! longer baby." Hard thrusts went in and out, each getting harsher and faster. Both of you finally came, feeling his hot cum shoot up inside you. savoring this little intimate moments together.

"two is always better than one, no?"

i live and breathe for this man 🥰‼️

#genshin scenarios #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact fanfiction #genshin drabbles #genshin fanfic #genshin impact scenarios #genshin headcanons #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x you #genshin smut #genshin x gn reader #genshin x you #zhongli x reader #zhongli smut #zhongli x you #♪ winter.writes

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agustdiv1ne · 10 months

Note

cograts on 3k!!! can i request taehyun + the proposal + smut but taehyun is the boss and reader is the secretary? love u <3

NOW SHOWING...

pairing: kang taehyun x fem!reader

genre: smut

wc: 3.9k

details + warnings: mdni, boss!taehyun, secretary!mc, hatefucking (or, more accurately, mildly annoyed with each other fucking), power imbalance, dom!tae, (kinda bratty) sub!mc, unprotected sex (do nawt do this), missionary, doggy, pull out method, very brief degradation (slut is used once), all they do is bicker lmfao

note: tyty nonnie!! ♡ hope you enjoyyy

your boss is — and you cannot stress this enough — a complete and utter hardass.

he demands way too much from you, he rapidly fires back-to-back orders and expects you to remember every minute detail, and sometimes, he even makes you drop everything to work on the weekend. the weekend. unfortunately, you are forced to grin and bear it. while your parents have urged you to quit every time you call them, and you've definitely considered it, working for taehyun is the only way that you will ever have a shot at becoming an editor, to bring light to stories that can touch others' hearts. there's nothing more that you wish to do than give small-time authors a chance to get their work out there — and even get your own novel in stores. you know how difficult getting a foot into the publishing world can be, but you also know that you won't be able to help them, or yourself, if you don't put yourself through hell first. hell being taehyun's wrath, of course.

even worse: you've now been roped into marrying this man. with new york city's immigration office on his ass, you are the poor soul he decided to use to keep himself in the country and save his job. the gross reality of it all is that if taehyun is fired, you wouldn't last another day at the company, and all of your painstaking work would be for naught. you honestly had no choice but to go with it.

you first thought that the universe held some sort of gargantuan grudge against you…because the two of you were suddenly slated to visit your little hometown after lying straight to an immigration officer's face (who definitely did not believe a word that either of you said) for your grandmother's ninetieth birthday. since you have arrived in the small town, you've been sharing a bed with him because he refuses to sleep on the floor, separated by a wall of pillows each night; you've been forced to act affectionate with each other in order to appease your overbearing family.

however, you're also beginning to think that taehyun might not be all that terrible. outside of work, at least. sure, you bicker and you argue and your attempts at pda are painfully awkward at best, but he's shown you a different side of him over these past couple of days. he is still the harsh boss that you know intimately well, but he actually has a personality under that work persona. he's sung old-timey songs for your elder family members, opened up to you on your family's boat about his issues with vulnerability, and the wall of pillows on the bed has slowly diminished to nothing. above all, you've had more heart-to-heart conversations than what you initially thought he had the emotional capacity for.

but that doesn't mean he still isn't a bit of a dick.

“move over,” he grumbles next to you as both of you try to get some sleep, grumpy after another long day and a very embarrassing encounter with your grandmother. the memory of you doubled over, nearly crying with laughter, because of him stings like a fresh wound. annoyance surges through his veins, and your thin pajamas — on top of the warmth of your bare skin radiating against his — certainly are not helping his conflicted mind.

“sleep on the floor if you’re going to complain,” you retort, unmoving as you stare up at the ceiling. the moonlight streaming through the windows reflects across the wood panels, shifting with the movement of the thin curtains that hang in front of the glass. it’s soothing, but it seems as if nothing is enough to get you to doze off tonight, even the melatonin that you downed an hour ago. the lack of space between the two of you is a new development, and you cannot deny the nervous pang that resounds in your chest because of it. something feels off tonight, but you can’t quite put a finger on it.

his elbow sharply shoves in your bicep, pain blooming across your skin as the bone further digs itself into your arm. hissing in pain, you jostle him back, thus starting a petty war of who can gain the most space on the bed. after a couple minutes of exchanging elbows and small curses, your arm growing sore, annoyance finally bubbles over. your scattered brain proves useless in this situation, and while you’d usually rather exchange rude words until one of you concedes, you instead find yourself sitting up to straddle his hips, hands wrapping around his forearms and pinning them to the mattress. his lips part slightly as he stares up at you — a shocking crack in his typical stoic mask — while you shoot daggers down at him, your manicured nails biting into his wrists.

“quit it,” you hiss. “i’m not in the mood for your shit tonight.”

the curse word slips out before you can stop it, but at this point, you don’t particularly care. he’s being an annoying prick and all you want is for this godforsaken trip to be over already and for you to get fucking married. the quicker you are, the quicker you can get divorced and return back to your regularly programmed boss-assistant relationship and cut the odd tension that has built up between the two of you over this trip.

below you, taehyun mirrors your venomous expression, his bare chest flexing as he breaks away from your grip with ease. his hips shift up beneath you, and your balance unexpectedly shifts. in a split second, you’ve switched positions with him now leering down at you. your legs are now wrapped around his hips, hands now pinned to the bed by his. he’s so close that you can feel his breaths against your cheek. that weird feeling in your stomach is back; you can’t help but flit your gaze down to his lips for a moment, licking your own subconsciously. you want — no, you need to kiss him, the phantom feeling of his lips on yours from the day prior taunting you.

mentally, you slap yourself out of it. where the hell did that come from? he’s your boss. your terrible, perfectionist boss that you never catch a break from, your boss that constantly makes you want to quit your position and give up on your dreams. you shouldn’t be thinking of him like that. you can’t. looking back up at him, you find dark, narrowed eyes staring right back at you. the slight furrow of his brow tells you that he’s thinking — this is one of his most common expressions, you’ve gathered from your grueling time working for him, right after his stony, laser-like stare that is a constant in the office. it’s also the most worrisome.

wiggling, your fiery attempt to get him off of you is swiftly extinguished as he tightens his grip on you. you are not lost on the tick in his jaw, the way his muscles flex beneath his skin. with a gulp, you urge yourself to calm down. he’s your boss. your fucking boss.

with a hiss, he grits out, “stop moving. fuck.”

his words lead you to notice something hard pressing into the crease of your thigh — his dick. holy shit, taehyun’s dick is rock solid against you, and you’ve barely even done anything. every nerve ending in your body feels like it’s on fire right now, the air surrounding your bodies electric and—

he’s kissing you.

he’s kissing you and it’s messy and mean and there’s absolutely nothing romantic about it — and worst of all, you actually like it. lips mold together and teeth knock against each other, his hands releasing your arms to find purchase on your hips as he helps you grind against him. with a small whimper, you bite down on his bottom lip, causing him to groan in response. this is weird. this is so unbelievably weird, yet you can’t seem to stop yourself.

he pulls away first, his warm breath brushing against your lips while both of you pant against each other. you can’t help but stare at the way his lips are red and swollen, slick with saliva and wetted further by a quick swipe of his tongue.

without speaking, he swoops back down to capture your lips again. your stomach clenches as his hands slip beneath your thin camisole, the fabric bunching up as they slide up the expanse of your stomach and up to your breasts. he greedily gropes the flesh as he deepens the kiss, while you reach down to cup him over his boxers. he’s heavy in your hand, and you can tell just how thick he is even with the fabric in the way. your walls flutter around nothing as the thought of him stretching you to your limit invades your mind, your panties sticking to your folds.

“you drive me insane,” taehyun grumbles as he works on nipping and sucking on the skin of your neck, thumbs now circling your pebbled nipples. you arch into his touch, unable to hold in your gasps.

“yeah, well, welcome to my world,” you mutter, squealing as he delivers a particularly cruel pinch to one of your tits. curling your fingers into his hair, you tug hard enough to hurt, and he hisses at the sting, sitting back up so that he’s leaning over you once more. one of his hands leaves your breasts to find purchase around your throat; you’re sure that he can feel the way you gulp beneath his hand — he does, and fuck, does that make his cock twitch.

with a scoff, he shifts hips forward with more force, pressing himself directly into your center. the grip around your throat tightens slightly — he revels in the way your eyelids flutter and your gaze grows a little hazy as you stare up at him. you’re an absolute vision like this, and he thinks that maybe…no, he doesn’t. what a silly idea, that couldn’t possibly be true.

his attention is pulled back to the present as you meet his hips with your own. your teeth digging into your bottom lip makes him want to bite it for you. god, stop. he hates himself a little for how he feels, but you’re just too tempting right now — and you? you seem just as willing.

to hell with it, he thinks.

“beg,” he orders. there is no way in hell he’s going to allow you to be snarky to him. he deals with your offhand remarks enough at work, and you’ve been a little too casual with him during this trip, too complacent with your disrespect.

“i will do nothing of the sort,” you hiss despite the burning desire to just submit and let him make you feel good. “j-just because you think you’re all high and mighty doesn’t mean i’ll just bend to your will because you expect me to.”

the way he pauses makes you freeze. the narrowed, cold eyes are back, sending chills down your spine as they look over every crevice of your being: your lust-blown eyes, your heaving chest, how your legs have hooked themselves around his waist to pull him impossibly closer. his gaze finds yours again, and you shrink into yourself a little. the action pulls a smirk from him.

“i know you need this,” he says coolly. “more than me, i’m sure. when do you have time to meet people, hm? i doubt you’ve had anyone in a while.”

oh, fuck him. he has no right to comment on your lack of sex life, not when he’s the one and only reason for your lack of partner and your sore wrist each night. not when he has little regard for your free time when your off the clock. you do everything for him, and yet all you get is a measly little paycheck and not one ounce of gratitude in return.

“that’s because of you,” you fire back, blood boiling. “you work me like a dog! i’m always at your beck and call— how do you expect to find someone to screw when my entire life revolves around you and your needs? ”

he shrugs as if none of that matters. “well, now i’m giving you an opportunity to get fucked,” he remarks, essentially ignoring your entire point. the cocky, impudent bastard. “take it or leave it. so beg, or i’ll just fuck my fist and you can watch. i don’t particularly care.”

slack-jawed, you gawk at him silently. you’ve never heard him be so vulgar. it’s oddly…hot? stop, no, your brain needs to shut up.

when he begins to move off of you, your legs tighten around his waist. actually, you know what? fuck it. your pride has already been tarnished enough while working for him, why not keep that going? you’re desperate enough, and since he’s talking such a big game, you’re curious to find out if he can back it up.

thus, you give in.

“fine. fuck me,” you whisper viciously.

evidently, this is not satisfactory for taehyun. his mouth forms into a thin line as he sends you an unimpressed frown. “what? i couldn’t hear you.”

when you repeat yourself, louder this time, his head tilts and leans closer to you until you’re basically nose-to-nose. his stupid, infuriating smirk has grown wider. it’s almost as if — no, he definitely enjoys teasing you like this.

“c’mon, you can do better than that,” he mocks while he rocks his hips harder against yours.

while you’d typically throttle a man who patronized you in this way, you are so unbelievably needy at the moment, and his ministrations are definitely not helping your case; so after swallowing what little dignity you have left, you begin to plead, “fuck me, please, need it. use me, ruin me, i-i don’t— i don’t care, just wanna feel good. please, taehyun.”

your cheeks are burning as hot as the sun and shame prickles the back of your neck. you can’t help how you cover your face with your hands as you realize how naked you feel under him, stripped bare by his eyes and his presence despite still being fully clothed. he peels your hands away, pinning them to the mattress just as you did to him minutes earlier.

“wasn’t so hard now, was it?” he leers, shifting his head so that you can’t look away. one of his hands moves to cup your jaw, a thumb brushing lightly against your lips, and you allow it to push into your mouth and press down on your tongue. you suckle on the digit as your mind clouds up. moving your thin pajamas to the side with his other hand, he swipes two fingers through your soaked folds, bringing your slick up to your clit. he barely touches the already sensitive bud, rubbing tiny circles against it. you shift your hips up to gain more stimulation, but he pulls away. tutting, he sighs, “desperate little thing. don’t worry, i’m not feeling very patient right now either.”

within seconds, your bottoms are discarded and you’re spread wide for him, on complete and utter display for him. his boxers are shoved down to reveal his cock, stiff and flushed an angry shade of red. prominent veins meander their way down the shaft, the skin a shade darker than the rest of him — and you were right: he is thick, intimidatingly so.

but you've never been one to back down from a challenge.

as he lines himself up with your awaiting entrance, his thumb slips out of your mouth so that he can find purchase on your waist, the warm tips of his fingers pressing into the soft skin. a stinging sensation floods your senses as he shifts his hips forward, his cock slowly stretching your walls far beyond what they’ve ever been before. shit, he’s huge, your pussy stuffed to the brim with him — it feels like he’s in your stomach, your throat, but he allows you to adjust inch by painstaking inch, something you’re grateful for. not that you’d ever voice that to him.

the sting disappears soon enough, morphing into a dull pleasure that isn’t quite enough to satisfy you. rolling your hips, you feel the head of his cock press into a spot deep inside you that sends jolts of pleasure through your body, yet he halts your motions with a firm grip on your hip bones. outwardly, he seems unaffected by the way your walls flutter around him, warm and wet and christ, overwhelmingly tight — inside, however, he’s on the verge of losing it, trying and failing to resist the urge to pound you into the mattress until you’re crying for him. his first thrust is merciless, pulling out and slamming back in so hard that you nearly see stars. when you keen, he knows you can take anything that he will give you. you always have to put up with his hardass tendencies, after all, his borderline mean and unyielding expectations that you somehow meet and even exceed sometimes. you can take it — you will take it, and well. he expects you to.

and, as he wishes, you do, barely able to keep your moans in check as he pounds into you over and over again, your breathing growing ragged and your hands gripping the sheets so hard that you fear that they may tear. the drag of his cock against your walls renders you light-headed and dizzy beyond belief, your eyebrows furrowed deeply while your bleary eyes screw shut. with he plays with the angle of his hips, trying for the best one, the one that would turn your quiet whimpers to unabashed moans — because he would be lying if he said that he doesn’t want to hear you scream for him, even if it meant waking the rest of your annoying family up. maybe they wouldn’t pester him as easily if he got you to.

shoving your top up above your breasts, he uses one hand to knead one of your tits while he uses the other to halt your squirming. aggravation fills his veins as you continue to wiggle, your hips grinding up to meet his thrusts, greedy for more.

“stay fucking still,” he bites, moving to swing your legs over his shoulders, effectively folding you in half below him. the angle causes your eyes to roll back into your head, your teeth biting your lip so hard that you almost bleed. as his thrusts resume, he brings a thumb down to your clit, and your walls immediately pulse around him. your mouth falls open as you whine, and he nearly cums just from the sight of your playing with your tits, thumbs circle the pebbled flesh. he resists the urge to lean down and suck on them; he needs to keep a clear head, or as clear as it can be in this situation. he needs to maintain his control.

“‘m close, f-fuck, ‘m gonna, gonna cum,” you whisper frantically, now pinching your nipples between your fingers. the sight spurs him to fuck you faster, deeper, hitting spots that your measly fingers never could. your swollen lips part to allow quiet, pathetic whines escape, the buzz in your stomach building and building and building and—

it all stops.

“n-no!” you cry, but taehyun pins your hips down before you are able to chase your now fading pleasure. you despise how easily he can just take from you, even your orgasms he controls. the slight upward curve of his lips makes you want to curse him out.

“you're funny,” he remarks.

“and you’re the worst,” you groan while you lightly slap his chest. catching your wrist, he pins it back to the bed.

“aw, am i now?” he coos, his hips grinding into you again, teasing. it’s not enough, it’s not enough at all.

“mhm, i can’t— ah, c-can’t stand you.”

“o-oh, you c-can’t?” he taunts, his mouth formed into a condescending little pout. “yet you’re letting me do this—” he punctuates the word with a particularly hard thrust out of nowhere, causing you to cry out and your nails to claw at his shoulders. “—to you. i can’t be that bad.”

“you are,” you pant as his cock begins to drag along your walls again. “fucking— you are that bad, i— nonono, please keep going. please!"

taehyun does not heed your cries. rather, he pulls out completely, much to your contempt. whiplash becomes your new best friend as he flips you over onto your stomach, spine arched prettily behind you by the hands pulling your hips up. the sheets brush against your swollen nipples, the pillow below your head cushioning your head from the somewhat stiff mattress. you are rendered unable to push yourself up and out of this position when taehyun gathers your wrists in one hand and pins them behind you, yet you can’t bring yourself to even want to try, not when he slips his cock back inside you and resumes his previous swift pace. the angle has changed, and he presses perfectly into your g-spot now — your brain is completely empty, only able to process how amazing he’s making you feel. your moans grow louder and louder as your orgasm quickly builds up again. a hand curls into your hair and yanks, shoving your face into the pillow.

“be a good little slut and shut up,” taehyun grunts out from behind you. he’s changed his mind: he doesn’t want anyone else hearing you. no, your pretty little noises should be reserved for him and him only, and he’s more than satisfied with the muffled sounds coming from you as he fucks you into the mattress. he feels your legs begin to give out from below you, but he takes it in stride, shifting his body so that he leans over your back, your legs spread out on both sides of his hips. he quietly admonishes you for enjoying this so much, no matter how hypocritical it is, only if to feel you clench around him and bring him closer to his release.

your squeals are muffled as you finally, finally come undone, the knot in your stomach snapping and causing your entire body to quake. your walls quiver around his cock, and before he can spill inside you, he pulls out and jerks himself off, hand rapidly sliding up and down until he spills all over his hand with a shudder.

there’s no aftercare, no conversation, just ragged pants as both of you try to catch your breath again. taehyun essentially passes out as soon as he collapses next to you. you’re not sure what you would have said in this situation, so you are a bit grateful for his sleeping form.

as you listen to his slow, rhythmic breathing, the gravity of what you've just done hits you square in the chest. your lungs feel as if they’ve been pumped with lead, your muscles tense and your mind reeling — shit. holy shit. you just fucked your boss — your boss that you will soon be married to and divorced from — and now? now, you have no idea how all of this is going to pan out.

and no matter how your mind tries to spin it, there’s no way out of this one.

3k event masterlist | masterlist

#txt smut #taehyun smut #txt x reader #taehyun x reader #txt imagines #taehyun scenarios #txt scenarios #taehyun imagines #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #taehyun hard hours #taehyun hard thoughts #txt drabbles #taehyun drabble #3k milestone celebration #💌 — tyun #agust.nsfw

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foursaints · 5 months

Note

thoughts on barty canonically crying for his father to save him while being arrested?

to me, whether or not the crying is “real” is one of the key moments of barty’s ambiguity in the text and i love that it’s never answered. barty’s ambiguity and the unresolved tension between the parts of him that are “true” and “pretend” is one of my favorite things about him (i think of the classical greek term, polytropos) and i wouldn’t rob him of that by trying to give an answer.

i can definitely speculate but it's just such crucial scene in my opinion. under the cut i'll talk about the implications of both options. if i had to title a barty character thesis it would be the line from that passage: “and the boy continued to struggle”

OPTION 1: it's fake

this was my gut reaction at first. faking innocent tears is his best move in that situation and we know him to be manipulative & a gifted actor. it would also have been an audacious and hilarious move given that anybody who even remotely knows him would know that he’s not a simpering little loyal sensitive son & serve as a final way to fuck over his dad— playing up the picture of the Son That He Should Have Been. it would also explain crouch sr. being like “Lmfao Take Your Lying Ass Immediately To Wizard Jail”

OPTION 2: it's real

however, i believe that it was real. i dont mean that he actually thought he was innocent or anything but i think the tears were real. in my interpretation we’re watching barty grapple with this farcical trial, knowing full well the outcome, and crying for his entire wasted life. to me, that’s more compelling.

i try to keep in mind that barty doesn’t have a father in the traditional sense, he grew up under imperius with a disembodied Father-Voice in his head telling his body what to do— he doesn’t know him as an actual man. in barty’s experience, his father is more like an old testament God. so it’s fascinating that he was able to leave & rebel to the extent that he did under those circumstances. he continued to struggle.

i love that he’s acknowledging himself in this moment. it’s a plea for help technically, but i tend to read it as more of a condemnation: “I’m your son!”

this is the first time in years since leaving that he’s seeing his father again, this time in physical possession of his own body. but again he’s quite literally in chains. and now all that secret dictatorial control over him is in front of an audience. i see his crying as his elektra “filth teaches filth” moment– if I had to place more of my own emphasis on his words it would be “I didn’t do it— I’m YOUR son”. in this context, “Mother, I didn’t do it. It wasn’t me” resonates harder.

i also cant talk about this scene without calling attention to this specific moment:

the line “i didn’t know” feels so… out of place? and guttural? it almost doesn’t make sense in context (saying “I didn’t know” feels more like an excuse for guilt rather than a denial of it) and that incongruency renders it so… honest? and then it’s sandwiched in the middle of this confession that we KNOW is a lie but it hurts for some reason… he didn’t know it would turn out like this. but i think that deep down he did, and he hoped that it wouldn’t.

i think that barty thought he could leave, and he thought he could try and arrange himself into a semblance of his own person, and he thought he could have something of a life. but there was literally no other possible outcome for him— who just happened to be born misfitted to the circumstances he was raised in, and who struggled fruitlessly his entire life— and trying to leave was a naive schoolboy’s fantasy and his apology comes out in a naive schoolboy’s words. he didn’t know!

and this is also why it's so awesome that he breaks out of jail AGAIN and kills that man lmfao. (cardi b voice) Murder scene, Barty made a mess / POP UP, GUESS WHO, BITCH?

#barty meta tag #i really love this one ive been putting a lot of thought into this scene since you sent this ask. sorry it took me so long #i was waiting to formulate some concrete thoughts i seriously Stand By first #a #t

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azumasoroshi · 1 year

Text

minidura chapter 4 react

simon i SWEAR ill get you out of there and that horrendous art style

also though. TEENAGE SHIZAYA CHAPTER LETS GO???? idk if narita made the minidura or if it's a separate illustrator but they are giving the FOOD rn

i was wondering where the official knowledge that simon forced izaya and shizuo to eat sushi together came from. i mean i guess this isnt official and it was probably stated in the anime somewhere but still, good to see it illustrated pff

AAAAAAAAA ive seen this image around tumblr but i didnt realize it was from minidura 😭 i thought it was fanart or smth (<-dumbass)

wait im actually going crazy over this akwjhkjdshs they're washing dishes together!!! now we just need them to do laundry and taxes and-

im going to go over the image limit this time on god

wow cant believe they're bathing each other too (<-delusional)

something about the first shizuo panel reminds me of aggretsuko. which is. actually. huh. arent they both like adults with anger issues. durarara aggretsuko au when

also deadass i forgot dennis existed until i read about him in a shizaya fanfiction and i was like "who's dennis" pfgfkhkd

so true though never throw kitchen knives kids

LMFAO HE JUST GAVE THEM MORE WORK INSTEAD OF RESPONDING

they're gonna be here all day at this rate. actually shizaya as fast food/restaurant staff au when because they'd have the stupidest rivalry known to man and i need it

fucking imagine shinra walks in and sees shizuo and izaya working by the counter

i hope izaya gets to eat fatty tuna by the end of this though. god knows he's gonna look cute as hell

made funnier by the fact that izaya at least definitely knows how to cook with how long he's been on his own and needed to feed his sisters

damn ive actually never seen someone's vein burst in a way where blood sprays out in anime akshGKJHJKSD thats impressive actually

dont look now but this may or may not inspire me to make a mermaid/pirate au (<-obsessed)

who needs kaiju battles when you can have blue fin tuna vs crab

they're literally never leaving this place bro they're gonna be stuck here for eternity. anyway here's a literary analysis of durarara pointing out why russia sushi is actually representative of dante's inferno /j

i want to read those blurbs so baddddd screams sobs bangs table

rip dennis dude he doesnt get paid enough to deal with shizaya

rippp time to listen to izaya pine hopelessly for the man he cant stop annoying for five seconds

simon had the right idea. too bad shizaya are shizaya

what is that face izaya. i cant tell if he's irritated that simon's right or irritated that simon cant understand how instinctual their hatred is or amused that simon thinks he and shizuo could be friends or amused because he thinks meaningless fighting is hilarious

oh......that kind of hurts actually

i can imagine izaya suggesting it as a joke and then lying in bed that night thinking about how it's never going to happen and it really sounds like a funny joke huh? (he is not crying)

i cant believe simon's been dealing with these bitches for like 7 years now like dude has the patience of a saint

😭give him his 50,000 yen simon

we can see that the crack in the sign is actually fixed now too ahhh time really flies when you're stuck in a relationship of mutual hatred

chibizaya is so cuteeeeeeeee

im sure he intended to paint himself that way in his recollection though pff

THATS RIGHT SHIZAYA BE THE PORCUPINES. SNUGGLE. DO IT

step aside erika, simon is the face of the shizaya nation now. especially with that "you just have a shizuo complex dont you" quote that i found the other day which i still havent recovered from

HAUDGHUSDH orihara izaya, pro unreliable narrator

hilarious how we never see tom's face. just his dreads lmfao

dennis and simon are so done with like izaya bro i think they can tell at this point that he's horrifically pining and has no healthy outlet for it. the bills go to him because they're bullying him

it'd be funny if they billed him 50,000 at the end actually pft

I KNEW WE'D GET THEM EATING TOGETHER!!! I HAD FAITH

they're so cute oh my god can i make that my header or something

10/10 chapter im going to punt izaya into a wall and get simon flowers

#shizaya #izaya orihara #shizuo heiwajima #simon brezhnev #i dont think dennis has a tag pff #durarara #long post

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lucklessrat · 4 months

Note

Erp..For the ask, 2, 7, 14, 18, 20 or 30? Answer whichever you want lol ik its a lot so its fine if you dont answer all:)

WOW nah imma answer all of them lmao i love talking about my boy

2. Did your Dark Urge have any romantic and/or sexual relationships prior to their illithid adventure? If yes, who was it with and what was it like? If no, how did they feel about being single?

COMING IN HOT WITH THE BIG QUESTIONS. So the thing about Leth is that he's really, really old. He's about 300, and his life is roughly broken in to 3 phases: His youth, the huge chunk of time he spent as a tiger with no memory of having been a person, and the period in which he served as the head of Bhaal's temple in BG. In his youth be was a bit of a playboy, so he had a long and complicated dating history, but they were mostly casual relationships. He dated less and less as his Urge got worse. For the last two phases he had completely withdrawn from other people both emotionally and physically. Unfortunately, he also had A Thing with Gortash but in his defense, he had not gotten laid in like 200 years. That relationship was 100% emotionally manipulative toxic bullshit, but it happened.

7. Did your Dark Urge recall any childhood memories? If yes, how do they feel about the revelations? If no, was it by choice or lack of options?

I think he recovered most of his memories by the end of the game. They're painful to think back on, but it was a very long time ago now.

14. How good of a liar is your Dark Urge? How do they feel about lying?

He is a VERY good liar, but he hates doing it. Not for any moral reason, he's just very blunt and direct by nature. He GREATLY prefers intimidation over deception.

18. How does your Dark Urge feel about love?

Another hard hitting question! Look, Leth is just a big stupid sentimental old man, and he loves very deeply and earnestly. He's also a miserable bastard. He isn't shy or dishonest about how he feels or what he wants, but he avoids getting attached to people, mostly because he's afraid of hurting them. He regards love as "an inconvenient inevitability of the thinking mind," and he is a dick to almost everyone he meets, but damn if he can't stop himself from trying to help them anyway.

20. Is your Dark Urge open about their Urge or do they try to hide it? Why?

He's open about it, for the same reason he hates lying. Deception only complicates things, and he would rather give fair warning and be left alone then accept company from people who don't know what they're getting themselves in to.

30. What are your Dark Urge’s intentions/goals after the end of the game?

Lethean is honestly so fucking tired lmfao. He'll probably stay with Astarion post-game, but he's so exhausted by then that he's like, "I've lead a cult, then another cult, and then lead a small army that I unified to destroy both of those cults. I'm tired of leading. You do it."

#durge lethean #txt #ask

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byunejoo · 1 year

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no picture header because it got flagged. oops.

── nine thirty nine

contents. smut minors dni, fem reader, hybrids, dog hybrid!kei, k spelled as kei, leg humping (for just a brief moment), petnames/name calling (pup, dumb puppy), unprotected sex, accidental knotting, breeding, oral (f rec), cum eating, multiple orgasms, fingering, he’s honestly so sub coded here

word count. 1188

wishing the happiest of happy birthdays to my best friend @starryjens. this one’s for you! love you so much, hope you enjoy! (although your birthday was two days ago. i’m the worst i know LMFAO.)

“Please, I promise I’ll be good.”

You hummed, looking up at the man in front of you. He was on his knees, looking at you with round, pleading eyes. His ears twitched, undecided whether they wanted to pin against his head or curiously stand tall. His curled, fluffy tail slowly swept across the floor, anxiously awaiting your answer. “What are you begging for, pup?” Kei wanted to whine at the pet name. “You know I need you to use your words. What do you want?” You gently patted the top of his head before removing your touch completely, looking at him expectantly. He did whine at the loss of contact. You know he likes when you pat his head!

Instead, he shuffles closer and all but wraps himself around your leg. His hips press against your shin, and you can feel it. You can feel how hard he is, but you want him to use his words. He needs to tell you that that’s what he’s wanting you to take care of. But for some reason, he can’t find the words. All he could do to vocalize his needs was whine.

It feels like his hips have a mind of their own when they start to rut against your leg. Slowly, at first, with feather-light pressure. Such little movement that the only thing giving it away was the soft sighs he let out. He lays his head over in your lap, sighing more when you start running your fingers through his hair, lightly scratching your nails on his scalp. For a moment, you let him continue.

Then you tugged on his hair, pulling his head back.

“Now don’t just hump my leg like a dumb puppy. You know better than that. Speak, boy.”

He whined louder, if it was possible, at the way you were treating him. Then he musters up the courage to finally speak. “I want to fuck you… Please.” And when you took more than a second to respond, to tell him yes, he talks again. “I’ll be good. I promise I won’t knot you. I promise I won’t cum inside. I won’t breed you, I promise. Please, just please, let me fuck you. Hurts.”

You moved your leg forward, feeling the bulge in his pants again. He was so hard that you could almost feel the blood pumping through his veins. It was almost laughable how desperate he was, but you’d be lying if it wasn’t turning you on as well. So you decided you wouldn’t tease him much longer.

All he needed was for you to spread your legs, leaning back a little. He automatically reaches forward, hooking his fingers around the waistband of your underwear and pulling them down your legs, now bare from the waist down. He sees the wetness pooling between your legs, especially when he uses his fingers to spread you open for a better look.

If he wasn’t so desperate, he would take his time to touch you. But he feels the throbbing in his own underwear and he knows he can’t wait.

He clumsily pushes his underwear down his thighs, sitting up on his knees to line himself up with your entrance. In one motion, he pushes his entire cock inside, and with just a moment to catch your breath, he starts at a steady pace. With how desperate he was acting before, it was affecting you as well, so he was met without resistance. Instead, you spread your legs further to let him in deeper.

In just a short time, he could feel his release nearing. It was only a matter of time, after having been teased while his cock was already throbbing. “Fuck,” he breathed out. “I’m gonna cum soon.”

Kei fully intended to keep his promise—to pull out and finish himself off in his hand. But with the way you were now moaning, gripping his shoulders, and the way your pussy squeezed him just right, he could feel himself slipping. He fucks into you faster, hands gripping at your thighs, making you throw your head back.

“Pull out.” You managed to gasp out. “Kei, pull out.” It didn’t take much to realize that it was getting harder for him to thrust; the knot swelling up at the base of his cock making it difficult. “Pull out. Now, Kei.”

He couldn’t. He couldn’t hear you. All he could hear was the sound of the blood pumping through his veins, his own heartbeat, and the wet noises between your legs. It was too late when he came to his senses. His knot had already swollen up to the point of no return, and he could already feel himself about to cum at any given moment. “I’m sorry.” He whimpered. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you.”

Kei’s mind was on autopilot. Words spilled out of his mouth in pathetic whines as he shallowly rutted into you, filling you with his cum. The feeling of him cumming inside you, along with his heavy knot deliciously stretching you out, had you digging your nails into the skin of his shoulder as you could feel yourself coming undone as well.

His body went limp, gently leaning forward to lay on top of you. He buried his head in your neck, kissing, licking, nipping at the skin. The both of you could feel the knot going down after a few moments, and soon he was able to pull out. Finally.

Then he dropped back to his knees, sitting on the heels of his feet. He leans forward, flattening his tongue out against your pussy. The feeling of him dragging his tongue through your folds sends a jolt of electricity through your body, hands flying forward and gripping the hair between his fluffy ears. “What are you doing, pup?”

“Cleaning you up…I made a mess.” He dived back in, focusing now on lapping up the thick cum dripping from your hole. The feeling of his tongue on you, coupled with the lewd sounds of him slurping at the mixture of your own wetness and his cum had your mind reeling. You were already sensitive from your previous orgasm, and you could feel arousal pooling at your entrance again.

Kei pulled his mouth off of you, and you thought he was done. But he lined up two of his fingers and pushed them in instead.

“Shit! What—”

Cutting you off, he hushed you. “I told you I was going to make it up to you. Besides, how else am I supposed to get all of my cum out?”

He curled his two fingers, lightly dragging them against your walls. Attaching his mouth to your clit, he alternates between flicking his tongue and closing his lips around it, softly suckling. You’re already so close to a second orgasm, but adding the feeling of being stimulated in both areas only pushes you further and further toward it.

And that’s his goal. He wants to make you cum as many times as you can handle as an apology. If he needs to, he can stay between your legs all night.

#&team smut #&audition smut #&team k smut #koga yudai smut

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mitsies · 2 years

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jealousy, jealousy! ; jujutsu kaisen

what they're like when they get jealous!

suguru geto, yuji itadori, toge inumaki, megumi fushiguro, kento nanami, satoru gojo, maki zenin, yuta okkotsu

; suguru geto -

‣ geto doesn't get jealous very often

‣ he's super chill with this kind of stuff- if someone's flirting with you, he'll casually do something couple-ish or mention something about your relationship

‣ once the person realizes that the two of you are dating, they tend to back off, no problem! it's not a huge deal, geto would flirt with you too if he saw you !!

‣ but if this person doesn't stop bugging you ?

‣ suddenly they are a criminal wanted dead or alive. he's glaring at them so hard that they could feel his stare scorching holes into their brain

‣ he's still not making a huuuge deal of it but he's most definitely more annoyed than before

‣ geto will subtly angle his body so he's in front of you and gently steer the conversation (and you!!) away

‣ and if that doesn't work? he literally just grabs your hand and tugs you away LMFAO

‣ he has all the patience in the world when it comes to you !! but when it comes to anyone else, especially anyone interfering with the two of you he has the shortest fuse known to man

‣ like suddenly he cannot STAND this person and if they look at him the wrong way he's gonna kick them in the face til their teeth fall out

‣ u get the idea

‣ overall a mild 6/10 on the jealousy scale!!

; yuji itadori -

‣ oh my gosh this poor dude

‣ he doesn't even realize he should be jealous

‣ like does that make sense??? he just... doesn't think to be jealous. at all.

‣ it doesnt cross his mind for some reason (bc he's a dumbass)

‣ but then he'll notice some little tiny detail- like something so minuscule even you don't notice

‣ and he will get SOO CLINGY like literally attached to u at the waist, laying on top of you, coming up with bullshit excuses to get u to leave- THE WHOLE SHEBANG

‣ he will NOT leave u alone and will openly admit his jealousy and bug u about it for, like, ever

‣ if someone was hitting on u? he doesn't even realize they're flirting with you until you subconsciously shrink away from their lingering touch and BAM

‣ "actually wait babe, baby, my love, love of my life, honey, babe, my amazing wonderful partner who I'm so in love with, i have an appointment to get my nails done at.. right now. we have to go"

‣ u know he's lying. he knows he's lying. the other person knows he's lying. but like.. what can you do?

‣ 10 minutes later, you're both at a random nail salon??? and he has pink acrylics that will break off in probably 20 minutes!

‣ gotta appreciate the commitment at least

‣ overall yuji gets a solid 4/10 on the scale - less bc he usually just doesn't have a reaction to jealousy LOL!

; toge inumaki -

‣ inumaki oh inumaki..

‣ he gets pretty envious sometimes

‣ it doesn't happen very often- he's usually really chill when it comes to his feelings !!

‣ if something makes him a lil jealous, he just separates himself from the situation or , ironically, communicates with u to tell you what's up

‣ i get the vibes that inumaki is pretty in tune with his feelings- his being unable to talk has led to a lot of internal dialogue + analysis of his feelings

‣ so he knows how to talk about them !!

‣ but sometimes when he's having a real garbage day and something makes him jealous

‣ he just internalizes it and lets it build up as upset and hurt

‣ leads to him feeling lowkey like insecure ..

‣ but at the end of the day once he's calmed, he'll tell you everything and it all works out

‣ he loves u so much and he just gets frustrated sometimes and thats A OKAY!

‣ i'll give him a 5/10 because he usually doesn't give af

; megumi fushiguro -

‣ megumi gets jealous like very jealous 100%

‣ this has a lot to do with his inability to work through his feelings

‣ because of that, he won't say ANYTHINGGG when he's jealous like 0 words out of him ever at all

‣ he's all broody and mopey and emo until you bug him- then, he'll talk but not to tell you he's annoyed and jealous- it's to tell u to STFU

‣ but you get an idea of how he's feeling when you notice- he's clinging to you a little more than usual

‣ he gravitates to your side whereas he's usually more independent, just standing over your shoulder looking depressed ngl

‣ because of how observant megumi is, he sees how some random person is cozying up to you and getting a little too friendly

‣ he knows nothing will ever come of it but he gets like??? frustrated i think is the right way to put it

‣ not at you, but the situation

‣ mfer is DAMN GOOD at hiding it though

‣ like you could go HOURS. DAYS even. without noticing something's upsetting him LMFAO

‣ overall kinda pathetic but kinda cute

‣ 9/10 on the jealousy scale!

; kento nanami -

‣ he is such a saint. oh my GOD he is a saint

‣ literally just stands there and keeps going about his day as if he doesn't care. he does.

‣ if it REALLLY bothers him he might tell you

‣ but for the most part, he is chill and whatnot

‣ think: housewife

‣ it's kind of repulsive how patient he is when it comes to u like EW i want him

‣ it takes a lotttt to get on his nerves

‣ if that happens he's still all kind about it- will just nonchalantly mention he's not a big fan of ur friend (who u didn't notice was lowkey flirting with u)

‣ won't say anything more because he's LAME and doesn't want to upset you!

‣ he's a 2/10 on the jealousy scale. end of story.

; satoru gojo -

‣ dumb little attention whore.

‣ you already know what i'm gonna say

‣ 1000000/10 on the scale .

‣ he will NOTT leave you alone

‣ you thought yuji was bad??? not even close

‣ once he realizes someone is pursuing you, my guy is stuck to your side

‣ will not leave you alone

‣ he's whining and complaining the WHOLE TIME

‣ you can't even hear anything else is how loud he's being

‣ he is quite literally on his knees BEGGINGGG you to go elsewhere

‣ but like.. if that doesn't work?

‣ he bats his silly little lashes and puckers his silly little lips and tips his silly little head and hits??? on??? the person whose hitting on YOU

‣ HELLO. WHOSE SIDE ARE U EVEN ON

‣ almost successfully seduces them when u finally pull him away

‣ claims he was 'just giving you a taste of your own medicine'

‣ bitch.

; maki zenin -

‣ stone cold.

‣ i cannot express to u how much maki doesn't care

‣ she might get a teensy bit irritated but that is literally it

‣ in fact she goes as far as teasing you about it if someone hits on you

‣ if you don't realize you're being flirted with she'll make fun of you endlessly

‣ but when this happens; she makes sure her touches linger just a little bit

‣ and she sits closer to you than usual

‣ you don't notice and she's grateful for that

‣ not much else to say except i want to date maki so bad bro why cant she be real please just give me a chance please jsut one chance

‣ 1/10 on jealousy!!!

; yuta okkotsu -

‣ okay. he's a little miffed

‣ like not angry or frustrated or upset? just a little.. put off

‣ he's like... 'oh okay? somebody took my bitch?'

‣ more concerned with you feeling safe and comfortable rather than his own feelings because he's perfect like that

‣ but don't underestimate him, he gives a KILLER side eye

‣ like absolutely if looks could kill

‣ this comes from hours of sitting on the bedroom floor being your gossip buddy. he's too good at it!

‣ but overall i just don't think yuta gets very jealous

‣ like, he'll joke about you being hit on if it happens but not the same way maki does

‣ i mean dad jokes

‣ i need to stop or else this will turn into a 19k fic about how yuta is the perfect boyfriend !!

‣ anyways <3 he is a 3/10 on the jealousy scale !!!!

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dollyyyhouse · 6 months

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Don't 'Cha Wish Your Girlfriend was Like me?

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Vixen Reader (AFAB)

CW: Smut below the cut! Takes place at club, p in v, Nanami cheats on girlfriend with reader, public sex, (they get caught lmfao) Nanami and reader get ahead of themselves, porn with plot, reader is described as a vixen

Inspired by the Pussycat Dolls 🫡

Nanami couldn't believe himself, how could he be having such awful thoughts about another woman when he was right next to his girlfriend? It was like he was under a vixen's spell and unable to think about anything besides you and the way you made him become all hot and bothered. All he wanted was to bend you over and make love with you— what the hell was wrong with him? He had a girlfriend for crying out loud, how could he be falling head over heels for another woman?

"... Ento?" Stuck in his thoughts, the man was unable to hear the woman calling out to him. A thousand thoughts ran through the blonde-man's head; had he accidentally drank alcohol? Was that the reason he was so enamoured by you? He didn't plan on drinking, he had to make sure he brought his girlfriend home safe. "Kento!" Nanami was brought back to reality when he finally registered that the woman next to him was trying to get his attention.

"What are you so distracted by, dear?" His girlfriend asked, cocking her head to the side in curiosity. Unfolding his arms, Kento wrapped an arm around her and pulled her closer. "Nothing, I was just watching everyone dance. It was a good idea to come to the club tonight." The man replied, acting as though he wasn't just checking out another woman moments ago. "Ah, alright. I'm glad you're having a good time! Though, you do look a little bit red in the face. Did you drink something?" Shit. He didn't think he was blushing. "I think I mistook someone else's soda as mine, it probably had a bit of vodka in it. Don't worry, I only had a sip." Kento offered his girlfriend a small smile. The woman grabbed her boyfriend's free hand and fiddled with his fingers, interlacing their hands after a few moments. "Just be careful, make sure you don't drink anything weird, dear." She warned, pressing a kiss to his lips.

"I'm going to go dance, I'll be back in a little bit!" Stepping out of his embrace, the young woman ran off into the crowd. A sigh of relief escaped Nanami's lips when she was out of sight, he felt bad for lying to her but it'd be alright as long as she didn't know that he wanted to bang another woman, right..? It wasn't like he was going to act upon his impure thoughts.

"Excuse me, can I sit next to you?" The man looked up, slightly panicking when he realized the woman he was checking out was suddenly in front of him. "Oh, yes." He replied dryly, feeling as though his heart would pop out of his chest at any moment now. Smiling at him, you sat down on the bar stool right besides the blonde man. Fuck, fuck, fuck. What the hell was he supposed to do? Should he start a conversation or just let you drink in peace?

"Aaah, I feel so sweaty after dancing for so long." You whined, fanning yourself with your hands. Kento turned his attention to you, grabbing his soda can in order to have something to fidget with while speaking to you. "Yeah, I saw you dancing for awhile." He said, swirling the cola around in it's can. A small grin slowly formed on your lips, one that didn't go unnoticed by the stoic man. "Are you here alone," scooting your stool closer to the man, "or did you come here with someone?"

Nanami stiffened when he heard your question, refusing to make eye contact with you out of nervousness. "Oh—" he struggled to find the right words, "I came here with a friend." Shit. Did he really just say that? Why did he lie? He loved his girlfriend dearly, so why was a tent pitched in his pants after seeing another woman? "Mmm, that's perfect." You stated, sitting up from your stool and inching closer to the bulky man until your breast were pressed up against his muscular arms. "Why don't we get out of here and have some fun?" You asked coyly, batting your eyelashes at him.

Kento's breathing halted for a moment, thrown off guard after hearing you ask the question. Finally, he looked up and met your eyes. He could've sworn he saw your eyes twinkle, now that he had the perfect view of you; he took in all your beauty. "Yeah, I'd like that.." His voice trailed off.

Grasping his hand, you pulled him off his seat and lead him out of the club— eventually leading him into a decently private alley. Your lips automatically connected to his, desperate for a taste of the handsome man. "Shit.. you're so pretty," Nanami broke the kiss, "I couldn't keep my eyes off of you when you were dancing." Your hands roamed his muscular chest, feeling up his muscle through his unwrinkled dress shirt. "I know, I saw how you looked at me when I was dancing. I couldn't resist you, even if you do have a girlfriend." Kento froze, eyes widening after hearing what you said.

A small giggle escaped your lips, "Don't worry, I don't mind. This can be our little secret." Peering up at him through your eyelashes, you placed a couple of kisses on his collarbones. Snaking his arms around your waist, Nanami brushed off all his worries. "She doesn't have to know about this, I doubt she'd let me share a man like you anyways." Trailing your pointer finger down his body, you stopped the finger when it reached the bulge in his pants; tracing circles on it.

A groan fell from Nanami's lips, this felt so wrong but so right at the same damn time. "I could see the way you wanted me. In the back of your mind, you know you want to fuck me— right?" The man replied his a clear "yes." Hiking your dress up a bit, you slipped off your panties and placed them in the palm of his hands; smiling at him with such a mischievous look on your face.

Nanami didn't know what came over him but he opened the panties you were just wearing and admired the pool of wetness in the crotch of it, kitten licking a small stripe over top the slick. You tasted amazing. There was no way you weren't a vixen, you knew just how to make his heart beat like he had just ran a marathon.

Sitting on your knees, you unbuckled his belt; pulling down his slacks and boxers. His cock sprung out, hitting his stomach once before standing up. "Oh, shit. I knew it, your dick is massive." You said in awe, admiring the long organ and the veins that trailed up it. Tucking a few strands of hair behind your ear, you stuck out your tongue and swirled the tip of the large cock in front of you.

"S-shit!" Unintentionally, Kento bucked his hips forward at the pleasurable feeling. Removing your hands from your lap, you wrapped one hand around the man's brawny thigh and used the other one to gently squeeze his balls.

"Sho tasty.." You muttered, placing a few kisses up and down his cock. Taking a deep breath, you quickly pushed his dick further down your throat; causing the man to groan. You paused for a moment before pushing the organ further down your throat, not stopping until your nose touched his neatly-trimmed pubic hair. "Aghh," Nanami groaned in pleasure, watching in disbelief that you just casually deep throated him.

You hummed, sending vibrations down the cock. Quickly removing your mouth from his penis when you struggled to breathe, the two of you admired how strands of your saliva connected your mouth and his cock. "It's almost too big for me to even take, I wonder how it'll fit in my pussy.." You said aloud, causing a deeper blush to settle on the man's cheeks.

Nanami pulled your hair into a makeshift ponytail, keeping your hair out of your face while you gave him the sloppiest head he had ever received before. Opening your mouth, you repeated your actions; but this time never removing your mouth from the long organ. You watched how different actions effected the blonde man, quickly figuring out that his tip was the most sensitive and that he liked it when you swirled your tongue all over his dick.

Within just a few minutes, you had the man's hips jittering as he shoved your head all the way down his shaft and splurt his salty semen all over your tongue. Kento quickly let go of your head when he realized that you were most likely struggling with breath. "Haa.. sorry, it felt so good I couldn't h-help myself." The man struggled to catch his breath after such an intense orgasm.

Sticking out your tongue, you showed him how his cum decorated your pink tongue. Everything about you was perfect, you knew just how to please him. You swallowed all of his semen; loving the salty taste. "Thank you for the meal!" You said, placing one last kiss on his tip before you stood up.

"Look at him," you said, placing more attention on the man's boner, "he's still excited, I guess my mouth wasn't enough, huh?" Kento profusely nodded, he was so far in by now that he completely forgot about his girlfriend. She would probably be looking for him by now, she could wait though.

Kento hoisted you up, you wrapped your legs around his waist and snaked your arms around his neck. He aligned his raw cock with your sopping-wet pussy, the tip nudged at your folds. You braced yourself for the stretch, preparing for the burning sensation.

No amount of preparation could prepare you for the way he stretched your cunt out, barely fitting all the way inside of you. "O-oh, holy fuck.. ah." You moaned, waiting for the man to begin moving. "You ready?" He asked, only moving when you nodded. Nanami gave both of your asscheeks a gentle squeeze before he began rocking his hips into you.

You couldn't believe how massive he was, it was almost too much for you to take. Burying your head into the crook of his neck, you mumbled, "Don't 'chu wish your girlfriend was h-haaa-hot like me? I- ah, I could treat you better th-an her."

Your words only spurred him to begun thrusting into you faster. "W-haa do you say? Leave— oh, fuck! Her f'me.." You whispered into his ear.

Kento knew he shouldn't accept your offer, but the way your pussy was milking him was definitely influencing his answer. "Yes.. anghh, how could I say no t' you?" He could feel your smile against his skin. "Ah.. nghhh; I'm close." Your nails dug into his skin, crescent-shaped marks being left behind as you did so.

Nanami couldn't help but admire your cute moans and whimpers, everything about you was so unbelievably perfect.

A particularly load groan came from the man, his abs clenched and his knees almost completely buckled; signaling his orgasm.

"She prob-ah-ably doesn't let you hit it raw, huh? She, shit, she seems so boooring.." Unable to contain your moans, your sentences were continuously cut off by your noises of pleasure.

"You're right, baby." Kento replied, it was like he was in a trance. All he could think about was you, you, you. He didn't even realize that just a few feet away was his girlfriend, watching in horror as another woman had sex with her man.

"Cum on my cock, baby.." With a loud gasp, your squirted all over his dick. Once your high completely washed over you, you winked at the woman and blew a kiss towards her before shooing her away with a motion of your hand, but she couldn't move. It was like she was paralyzed, watching some fucked up scene.

The man squeezed your asscheeks much harder this time, burying and pounding his seed into your cunt. Sweat glistened over both of your bodies, your orgasm so nice that your eyes became glossy. The man stopped, staying still for a moment; plugging up his cum inside of you before slowly letting you down and pulling out.

You didn't say a word as you watched his girlfriend finally run away, only smiling to yourself— at this point, you knew he was yours now. Pulling down your dress, the man was about to offer you your panties back when you pushed the hand that held them back. "Think of it as a gift," you said bashfully, "you know, a little gift now that we're dating." He laughed, "I'm so glad I left with you."

You bent down, helping him get properly dressed. "My name is Y/N, we probably should've introduced ourselves properly before fucking," you giggled, "it was like love at first sight."

"You can call me Kento." Nanami replied, fixing a few strands of your hair. "Promise me you'll break up with that girl. See, I know she loves you, I understand; but we're just a better match." He placed a gentle kiss on your lips, a look of love clouding his eyes. You were definitely a vixen.

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu nanami #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk nanami #fanfiction #smut writing #smut fanfiction

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