#like yes there are parts that aren’t pretty

[zhelin-thames]

A Growing Circle of Bats (wrong number)

Read the previous posts to know what happend before Masterpost

Danny was sitting cross-legged on his bed, sipping a soda while reading over one of Tim’s million texts about ghost technology. Jason had texted earlier to warn him that “Tech Boy’s enthusiasm can be dangerous,” and Danny was starting to believe it.

Then his phone buzzed with a message from yet another new number.

Unknown Number: Hey, are you Danny?

Danny groaned, setting his drink down.

Danny: ...Yes? Who’s asking now?

Unknown Number: I’m Dick. Jason and Tim wouldn’t shut up about you, so I thought I’d say hi.

Danny blinked.

Danny: Wait, let me guess. Another one of the Bat-family?

Dick: Guilty as charged. I’m the oldest, so I have to make sure Jason and Tim aren’t harassing you too much. They’re... persistent.

Danny: That’s one way to put it.

Dick: So what’s your deal? Jason said something about ghosts and a billionaire villain?

Danny: Ugh, yeah. That’s the gist of it. My life is basically one long supernatural sitcom, featuring a half-ghost me, an undead billionaire weirdo, and a lot of property damage.

Dick: Sounds wild. Do you ever get a break?

Danny: Not really. Ghosts don’t exactly take vacations.

While Danny and Dick were chatting, Tim and Jason were having their own conversation.

“Did you seriously give Dick Danny’s number?” Jason asked, staring at his phone.

“Why not?” Tim replied, not looking up from his laptop. “He’s part of the family. Besides, Danny could use more normal conversations, and Dick’s the most sociable.”

Jason snorted. “Dick’s about as ‘normal’ as a flying acrobat who fights crime in spandex can get.”

Back on Danny’s end, the conversation had taken an unexpected turn.

Dick: So, are you into acrobatics? Or martial arts?

Danny: Uh, I mean, I’ve fought a lot of ghosts. Does that count?

Dick: Definitely. Fighting’s a skill. Jason said you’ve got powers too?

Danny: Yeah, I can go intangible, invisible, and shoot ectoplasm. Oh, and I can fly.

Dick: Flying? Okay, I’m officially jealous. That’s way cooler than grappling hooks.

Danny: It’s not all great. Flying makes you a bigger target when you’re fighting people who can fly too. Or when you’re dodging ghost lasers.

Dick: Fair point. But still, flying’s gotta feel amazing. Have you ever raced anyone?

Danny grinned at the question.

Danny: Not really. But I think I’d win. I’m pretty fast.

Dick: Challenge accepted. If we ever meet, I’m racing you.

Later that evening, Jason’s phone buzzed with a group chat notification.

Group Chat Name: Danny Phantom Appreciation Club

Members: Jason, Tim, Dick, Danny

Danny: What is this?

Tim: A group chat. Easier than texting us all individually.

Jason: It was Tim’s idea. Don’t blame me.

Dick: Hi, Danny! Welcome to the club.

Danny: You guys are insane.

Jason: And you’re stuck with us now, Little Ghost.

Danny: Why do I feel like this is the start of something terrifying?

Dick: Because it probably is. But we’re fun terrifying.

Danny: ...I’m doomed, aren’t I?

Tim: Yep. Welcome to the family.

Danny couldn’t help but laugh, shaking his head. For all their chaos, the Bat-family was growing on him. Maybe having them around wouldn’t be so bad after all.

[oceantornadoo]

ch4 the wrong john | masterlist | next

john price x f!reader, reader is johnny’s twin

—

The universe hates you, obviously.

Why else would it send you this charming and attractive man in the form of your brother’s boss? Not to mention your hookup with him was so meaningless he didn’t even deign to write you a note. Even a “had a nice time :)” would have been more acceptable than an empty bed and an aching throb in both your cunt and your chest. Since clearly it was just another hookup to him, you decide to treat John with the same dignity he treated you with.

“Nice to meet you both!” You nod at the clock above John’s head, refusing to meet his eyes, then turn to Gaz and give him a warm smile. “And I’m sorry you have to spend so much time with my brother. At least you get paid, it’s a better lot than mine.” The crew laughs, breaking the inevitable awkward tension of bringing a civilian family member to their place of work. Johnny shoves your shoulder and you gladly take the opportunity to turn your back on John.

“Well, Cap’s got a meeting soon, but we can show ye ‘round while we wait.” You don’t bother saying goodbye to John, something that Gaz and Ghost note with a look between them. Johnny’s too focused on you to notice, shouting his goodbyes over his shoulder to Price before tucking you against him once again. Your traitorous heart pounds out of your chest as you take stock of the situation. Not only is John your brother’s captain, he’s practically a father figure. Johnny’s told you how the captain took a chance on him, saved his life countless times, and you’re putting these facts together like pieces of the puzzle that is John Price. A military captain who treats his men like sons while treating a stranger like his wife, just to leave the next day. He’s clearly unstable, a person you should stay away from, because you have the slightest inkling he could ruin your life. He might already have.

Ghost leaves to finish training, Johnny on his heels to “wish him goodbye,” as if they won’t see each other in an hour. It’s disgusting how in love your brother is, how besotted Ghost is, and you hate yourself for wanting what they have so badly. It’s clear they’re meant for each other, tethered together by blood and sacrifice and the life that can grow after death. Want bubbles inside you like a pot about to explode, and you would do well to keep the lid on.

“So,” Gaz shakes you out of your reverie, cunning eyes tracking your gaze to Ghost and Johnny. “Approve of the Lieutenant for your brother? ‘m dyin’ to know.” You nod slightly, cheeks flushing in the face of Gaz’s full attention. Closer up, he’s the type of handsome you would never pursue, too pretty for his own good. In his voice and behind his eyes, though, there’s something lurking underneath. You can tell he wields his handsomeness as a weapon and you can’t even fault him for it.

“I think it’s more if Ghost approves of me, to be honest. They already seem like they’d hang the moon for each other.” Gaz nods thoughtfully, leading you outside to a path that outlines the base, giving you a glimpse of soldiers training outside. “An’ why’s that? Soap talks about you all the time like you’re a sort of angel. Not sayin’ you aren’t, of course.” He sends you a wink and you giggle at both that and the nickname Soap. Johnny told you about it, of course, but it’s a bit silly to hear it next to the name Ghost or even Gaz. He’s never told you what Soap meant, and you never asked in case it was something you didn’t want to hear.

“I think Johnny loves me, it’s just, I remind him of the parts of our family that don’t. And with Ghost, and all of you, he’s got a real family that doesn’t judge him. It’s like introducing two friend groups when you’re not sure if they’ll like each other. We represent different parts of him, but I’m old and Ghost is new, so the lines seem blurry to me.” Gaz lets you talk more, his demeanor so welcoming with the internal challenges you’re facing. He even tells you to call him Kyle, warm and soft. The two of you walk around base, minutes turning into an hour. Finally, a soldier runs up to the two of you, telling you you’re needed in Price’s office. You bite your lip nervously, not seeing how Kyle tracks your response. He almost freezes, years of training preventing him from doing so, but he’s still thrown by how nervous you seem to go back.

“Well, I’m a little sorry for talking your ear off. But I see why Johnny likes you, Kyle. You’re a good friend.” You smile at him, almost faltering when you see his stony expression. It changes in a split second, like a cloud moving from the sun, and he grins and tucks you under his shoulder, just like Johnny. “It’s no problem, angel. It’s one of my specialities. Let’s get you to lunch, ‘m starvin’.”

Johnny greets you like a long lost twin when you get back, asking for details about who you saw and where you went. He’s like that all the way to lunch, insisting on driving just the two of you to “the only decent pub in this town, really, hen.” It’s nice to spend time with him and you squeeze his forearm to say so, basking in the light of his smile. You almost forget about the John situation until you see him get out of the car the other men took, his fatigues fitting him criminally well. In fact, he’s even better looking in the daylight, blue eyes catching the sun while he stretches, muscles rippling under his clothes. You stare so long that Johnny yells at you to get moving, but he’s too focused on Ghost to turn back to see who you’re looking at. 

You find Kyle quickly, tucking your arm into the crook of his elbow and letting him guide you into the pub, sparing a singular backwards glance to John. He’s staring at you, again, but he’s too far back for you to tell anything of the subtext behind his eyes. Is he mad you’re Johnny’s sister? He has no right, obviously. Maybe he thinks you stalked him or something and this is all some elaborate scheme. Deciding you don’t care, you focus on lunch and the growling in your stomach from all the calories you burnt with John last night. He’s really the cause of all your current plights.

The pub only has booths. Johnny insists on you being in the middle, guest of honor and all that, so you’re stuck in the middle with Johnny on your left and Kyle on your right. Ghost is next to Johnny, of course, leaving John next to Kyle, a perfect angle for him to stare at you while you answer Johnny’s interrogation. Johnny asks you questions like you haven’t talked every week since you last saw each other. Like only a brother could be, he’s unhinged. 

“So yer still single, m'eudail?”

“An’ yer livin’ alone? Steaming Jesus, hen.”

“Not even a cat? Bloody hell.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see John’s shoulders bunching closer with every invasive question your brother asks. He’s being an ass, they both are, and you need a break. “Before the food comes, I’m going to use the toilet. Scooch, Johnny.” As you leave, you hear Ghost muttering to Johnny, telling him to calm down. At least someone’s on your side.

You do your business, taking a deep breath to calm yourself before going back out and facing the cavalry. As you open the door, you see the universe is not on your side.

“We need to talk.” He’s standing there, posture military straight. You hate him.

“John…” You try to push the bathroom door open to make your escape. He prides himself on your mission being unsuccessful, an arm preventing you from leaving. He doesn’t like to use his strength to intimidate women, but in this case, you’re too slippery for him to let you go politely.

“Sweetheart…”

“Oh, don’t sweetheart me, John. Or should I say, Captain?”

He yanks the door handle from your grip, spinning and locking you both inside in one move. It’s a one room toilet and there’s nowhere to go with John taking up space like it’s his right. “We need to talk.” He says it in what you imagine is his Captain Voice, firm and unmoving. Luckily for you, you’re not on his payroll. “Actually, we don’t. We had a good time, the night ended and you left, and now we happen to have a mutual connection. It’s whatever.” You try to shrug nonchalantly, fumbling for the door, but John notes how you stumbled over the words “you left.” His hands find your waist, pinning you to the door with a gentleness remnant of last night.

“You didn’t call. Or text. ‘m confused why y’r upset, pet, when the ball’s in y’r court.” His hands on your waist are breaking down your mental walls and you hate how easily you let down your guard. His actions don’t match his words, though, and that’s something you can’t deny. “How would I have called? I don’t have your number.” His brows knit together in confusion, thumbs rubbing circles over your shirt. “I left a note.” Oh. Oh.

“There was no note.”

“Left it on the pillow, sweetheart.”

“There was nothing on the pillow!”

“Must’ve moved while you slept. Should’ve known by how much ya kicked me last night.”

“I don’t kick! God, you’re annoying and-“ 

He cuts you off with a kiss, pressing you further into the door. John slots a muscled thigh between your legs, smiling against your skin when you let out a soft moan. “‘m sorry ‘m a right idiot, sweetheart. Let me make it up to you.” You shake your head, pushing him away but keeping your hands on his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his uniform. “What would you have done if I never called? And if- if I didn’t show up on base?” He smiles at you indulgently, like you’re a little girl instead of a woman. He knows he’s won, can tell by how firm your grip is on his chest. “Would’ve gone back t’ the bar tonight. An’ if you weren’t there, would’ve gone to y’r hotel room.” You frown at him. “How would you have gotten up the elevator? You need a key card.” He pecks your forehead like he’s known you a year, rather than a day. “I have my ways, sweetheart. I am a captain, as you know.” 

That kills the mood.

You push him away, finally letting go, before stepping in front of the mirror to readjust your clothes and hair. He stands behind you and it’s intoxicating to imagine you two like this, fixing your clothes after a hookup or a domestic night in. Something about John Price feels permanent, likes he’s meant to be in your life for more than one night. But then, the image of your brother pops into your brain. Your memory of how much he talks about John, talks about the group in general. How they’re like family, like brothers, how Price treats him like a son. You can’t ruin this for him.

“We can’t do this, John. If it goes wrong, it’ll break Johnny’s heart. I can’t do that to him.” Hands wrap around your waist, slotting you against him. You fit perfectly and it’s heart wrenching. “An’ what about my heart? An’ yours?” You shake your head, pushing off of him and unlocking the door. “It’s early enough that we can just- just stop. Johnny’s more important. I am sorry, truly.” You walk away without a second glance, like John’s not even there.

And just like that, John Price knows he’s met his match. His future wife, if he has anything to say about it. John Price doesn’t lose.

-

notes: johnny says bloody hell because simon says bloody hell. i don’t make the rules sorry.

also someone complained on my ao3 that this wasn’t slow burn and…i never said it was???? they literally meet as a hookup bffr. anyways hope yall enjoy! angst is coming soon hehe

taglist

@lveegsoi

 @galactict3a

@nova-willow-541

@sirbonesly

@starlightkitten19

@prettycatboy

[anonomano]

Connection ~ Carlos Sainz

Part one

Mafia!Carlos Sainz x Fem,Arranged!Reader

prologue part two

Synopsis: How will we get Carlos to agree to a marriage he doesn’t want?

Warnings: smut 18+ eventually, violence, toxic!carlos

Carlos was sitting at the breakfast table; notably not at the head spot, where his father use to sit. He was reading paperwork and eating an omelette prepared by his chefs, when his mother walked in.

“I found her!” she stated as she sat across from him. She was no longer wearing her mourning clothing. She was dressed in a mauve dress, amethysts decorated her ears and neck. Purple had always been her color. Her hair was up in a french twist, her signature style. She was back to herself again.

“Found who?” Carlos asked, not looking up from his work again. He had been very busy ever since he took over the business.

“Your wife”

The words stopped Carlos in his tracks. He slowly looked up at his mother. He hadn’t expected it so quickly, or for her to make the decision of who it would be. “What? No, if I must get married, I should be able to at least choose who I will get married to”

“Carlos” she sighed “sweetheart, your taste in women has never been exactly, shall I say, stellar” She grabbed his hand, the absence of her wedding ring becoming apparent “Besides, this girl is a family friend. Shes very sweet and very pretty. Her father is f/n l/n”

“y/n?” Carlos was shocked; he remembered the girl from gatherings early in life. It had been a long time, her father stopped bringing her to such events when she was four years old. Him and y/n used to be close friends. They had played together and even got fake married once. Ironic.

“Yes, I saw her a few years ago at her 16th birthday party. Shes a very nice girl. Perfect for the family. Plus consider it a gesture to her father. Him and Carlos always got along. You haven’t spoken to him since the funeral”

“Mother I respect you I do” she sat back “But, I will not marry this girl” I stood up “ I hardly even know her! If I must marry someone… I and I alone will choose who it will be”

“Its too late Carlos” She stands straightening her dress “I have already discussed this with her father. This marriage will be happening.”

“This is ridiculous! You aren’t in charge of me anymore!” Carlos leaps away from his chair wildly gesticulating at his mother “My father is dead… I am in charge you can’t undermine my authority like that!” he puts his hand to the bridge of his nose “Mother what exactly did you tell her father?”

——————————————————————————

“When I was discussing it with Reyes we had couple key things we talked about…” your father stated. You were now in a crowded room with your father at the head of the table; you were seated to his left. “First, you will get married before the end of the year, most likely in December”

“So soon?!” you say, shocked. Everything was happening so fast, it was already August.

“Yes, Darling, soon. Aswell as on the subject of children—“ his voice faded out you started to think about all of the choices being taken from you. This stranger you never met would choose where you live, how many children you have, and how you live your life. Everything would be so different.

“— this whole thing is good for the family; it keeps us involved, which is good. Carlos Jr. and myself never got along as well as his father and I” your father finished out as you regained your awareness of the situation.

“So I have to go live with him? and have his babies?” You question “How are babies even made?” an awkward silence sweeps over the room at the question. You look to your father while he looks away. Then to your brothers who are sharing glances with each other. You look at your mother last, shes looking right at you, pity on her face.

“Y/n, darling, that is something for the two of us to discuss at a later date” you slump into your seat, frustrated at the lack of information.

“Anyway, I will set up a dinner soon for the two of you to meet. Your mother and I, along with Reyes will also be attending” this cause some outrage from yoir brothers; they had always been protective of you and didn’t understand why they couldn’t go.

——————————————————————————

The dinner was not what you expected, neither was Carlos. He was seated at the head of the table, you had to admit he was very handsome; he was dressed in nice clothing, obviously very expensive and tailored to his body. You were seated on the opposite end. Your parents between you.

Despite the silence that plagued the dinner while you were eating, your parents decided to bring a conversation between the three of them to the study. Leaving you and Carlos alone.

“So, what are your hobbies?” You ask, trying to get to know the man that you will soon share your life with.

“I don’t have any, to busy”

“Alright, well, do you like kids?” you try

he sighs “look you don’t have to… we arent gonna…” he pauses briefly standing up “we aren’t getting married”

“What?”

“My mother set this whole thing up… I’m sorry you seem like a nice girl. But, I don’t even know you. I’m sure you don’t want to marry me.”

“Its just business”

He laughs a little “I don’t understand—“

“Thats what my dad said, its just business. We’ll get married, have kids, share responsibilities.”

“Darling, do you even understand what those responsibilities are?”

“Don’t!” You stand up quickly realizing what you did and then sit down “Please, don’t call me that.” you take a deep breath “I may not know everything but I am willing to learn my responsibilities I take that seriously”

“Do you want to marry me?”

“I…need too.”

He looks you, he seems to be contemplating something. “Alright then.”

——————————————————————————

You were sitting in your dinning room waiting for dinner when your parents arrived.

“Darling, I don’t know what you did but I am proud of you!” your father exclaimed as he was seated “He’s going to marry you”

“Really?” You were surprised “He said he didn’t—“

“Well, he changed his mind” your mother interrupted

“He really changed his mind, the wedding has been moves up!”

“Moved up? to when?”

“October, you are getting married in October!”

@formulas-bitch

[jkftkth]

You cannot tell me that Tae didn't tell JK to get his perky behind in that dance room and move his muscular body with their mutual bud Bada in order to feel better. JK said "my self esteem is low" and Tae said not on my watch it's eff-ing not. One, you are not going to spend your whole break in the introvert idol mansion (despite it being built to those exact specifications). Two, Tae's like my self esteem is generally fine but having the entire globe thirst after me and my little dancy-dance did feel nice.

i was reading this post earlier on the kpop industry being intentionally addictive for fans and one of the things mentioned was how often their comebacks are. that’s what fans are used to and almost expect/demand. a break where fans aren’t being actively fed has every idol feeling insecure, wondering if their fans will have moved on by the time they get back, and i feel like being stuck in the military would only amplify those thoughts. it’s something each of them have voiced before too. there’s always a part of them that wonders could this all be gone just as fast as it came.

jk’s entire live was about wanting to sing, about how he tries to still keep himself close to singing in the ways he can, and when you go that long without practising properly, of course you’re going to feel like you could be better. and jk himself is pretty hard on himself on a normal day.

taes already let us know he seeks out a corner to try and keep himself familiarised with dancing, and one his days off he probably does feel a lot better dancing with friends and you can see that in his smiles and his energy. then there’s also jk’s “finally” comment which tells me he’s wanted to with bada for a while.

so contrary to solos’ belief, no it’s not about copying a trend, or not having our own set of friends. it’s about keeping yourself in good spirits and not letting yourself get rusty.

but also yes. that is a perky behind.

[stargirlygirl]

"You're my girl, aren’t you? Forever mine.”

Touya Todoroki x fem!reader

Scream!AU

🚨Warnings & tags: virgin sex, vaginal sex, anal sex, knife play / marking, mild gore, swearing, threesome - MMF (Touya/Shigaraki/You), dubcon, blood kink, choking, dacryphilia, voyeurism, swearing, humiliation, hurt comfort

Word count: 17k

Summary: Everything was fine until one Halloween, people who have annoyed you start dying. Are you cursed? Or is someone else responsible for their deaths? (Hint: it’s someone else. Someone you know very well.)

Inspired by 'All For You' by @bkgsdoll

A/n: Touya's scars = tattoos

-----------₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊------------

You and the girls were over at Mina’s tonight for girls night!! You were laying on Mina’s plush pink bed, phone in hand, scrolling through Halloween costume ideas on Pinterest. Ochaco was sitting up next to you, her back against the baby pink studded headboard. Himiko lay in her lap. Mina was sprawled out in a pink bean bag next to her large bed. You were all focusing on the task at hand, deciding on your outfits for Mina’s annual Halloween party. Even though it was a couple of months away, such a decision was a priority. Every so often, you heard Ochaco and Himiko whispering to one another about some good costume ideas.

You loved moments like these, when you were all gathered over at Mina’s. You loved how feminine her room was. Even though it was cluttered, it had this girly, warm, bubbly vibe. Just like her. You were so grateful that you could all be friends. It was a bit difficult at first as you, Mina, and Ochaco were pretty tight knit. A fourth member of your posse didn’t seem to be on the table. That was until you had met Touya. It wasn’t easy, telling your friends that you had made friends with one of those kids at college.

Yes, sometimes we all get a little crazy. We do things that should be kept behind closed doors, that aren’t the best for us or that hurt others cough crime cough drugs cough drinking cough fucking around. But, there was so much more to Touya and his friends than that. Honestly, they weren’t even that different from your friends. It’s just that they were seen that way. I mean, can you blame your friends for thinking you were getting involved with a bunch of drug addicts from Touya’s bajillion tattoos and his friends’ rather eccentric personalities?

It took a while but your friends gradually began to accept that Touya and his gang were a part of your life now. You had introduced Himiko to your closest friends a few months ago and since then, you have all been getting on really well.

All is quiet for the moment until Mina perks up. She exclaims, “LADIES! I’VE GOT IT. The perfect hottest costume idea for this year!!” You all sit up a little, rousing from your doom scroll daze at her words. You push yourself up, hand disappearing between the fluffy blanket you had been lying on. You feel the shift in weight as Himiko does the same.

“What is it?” Ochaco asks, her short brows furrowing in curiosity.

By this time, Mina had already gotten up from her bean bag and climbed onto the bed. She stands up at the very end, hands on hips. She raises her phone, showing you all her magnificent idea.

“We’ll go as the Sailor Moon Guardians!!” On screen showed a picture of the skintiest Halloween costumes you think you’ve seen yet. Those skirts didn’t look like they would cover anything. Ochaco clapped her hands together, squealing in delight while Himiko giggled and smiled. You were the only one who didn’t seem very enthusiastic about the idea.

“Um, don’t you think that’s a little revealing?”

Mina groaned, “Ughhhh [y/n], you’re such a buzzkill.” She leaned down and pulled on your arm, to which you responded by giggling and pushing her off gently. She stood up straight again and jumped down from the bed so she stood next to you now.

“What girl doesn’t want to look super slutty on Halloween?” She asked you whilst crossing her arms under her full chest.

You chucked superficially, “Uh, this girl here, Mina.” She rolled her eyes at you, looking at the girls behind you.

An idea ignites, aflame in her eyes. She counters, “Okay, fine then. You can go as Cady’s Frankenstein look and we’ll go as the rest of the Plastics Halloween costumes.”

“NO!” Your eyes were wide, hands reaching out to her but failing to grasp anything. “Not that,” you continued, your voice filled with panic. You looked away from her, seeing the smirk stretching across her face.

Himiko tries next to convince you. She was behind you, her small hands on your shoulders, chest pressing into your upper back, her lips at your ear speaking softly and teasingly into it, “Come on [y/n]-chan. Don’t you wanna look good for Touya-kun?” You turned your head back to look at her, your faces inches apart now. Sensing you were fighting a losing battle, you looked down.

Ochaco shifted closer to you as well, chiming in, “It’s not that bad, [y/n].” Mina looked at you, smirk still plastered across her face.

“Don’t be such a prude, [y/n]. As Himiko said, ain’t nothing Touya hasn’t seen before.”

That hit a nerve for some reason. You stood up, Himiko falling forward from your sudden movement. You crossed your arms over your chest and turned to look at your friends.

“That’s not what she said! And it’s not about Touya! It’s about my image. Why can’t I dress a little more modestly? I don’t want people to see me in that. Can you imagine if some creep saw me in that? Like, like Denki?” The girls burst out laughing. They’ve known of your little admirer for some time now and how much he annoys you. How some days he won’t stop following you around on campus or insist on having lunch with you and your friends.

The girls composed themselves, Ochaco coming around first. She shrugs. Still giggling a little, she says, “Okay okay, we’ll put a pin in it for now.”

For the rest of the night, you talk about lots of things as Scream plays in the background. There are times when you all scream and then laugh and then aren’t even paying attention to the film anymore. Mina tells you all that she’s been worried about Kirishima lately as he’s been hanging out more with Bakugou, sometimes not replying to her messages until the next day. You all reassure her that that’s normal, especially when Kirishima was joined at her hip for the first several months of them dating.

It’s getting late now, around 1am when the movie finishes and Himiko goes home. She gives you all a kiss on the cheek before she leaves. You watch from the window as she gets in the car with Jin and he drives away.

Mina excuses herself with “Bitches I need the bathroom.” So now, it’s just you and Ochaco. She lets out a sigh of relief as Jin’s car disappears in the thick of the trees.

She says suddenly, “Oh my gosh, I was waiting for her to go home the whole time!” Your brows knit together in confusion. What did she mean by that? The brown-haired girl looks at you giggling.

“What? Oh come on, [y/n]. You don’t seriously think I like her, right? I mean, she’s such a little freak.” You’re frozen for a moment, unable to respond.

Composing yourself, you begin, “Um, Ochaco. That’s such a me—” You’re interrupted by Mina slamming the door open, announcing her presence.

You make a mental note to talk to Ochaco about that later, and even Mina to see if she feels the same. You had thought that everything was going well between you all. Had that not been the case? Had that been only in your eyes? Or, what you had perceived as it was what you wanted?

You gave yourself a little shake, coming back to reality and seeing Ochaco and Mina looking at you. Mina began,“Are you o—”

“Sorry, I think a demon possessed me for a minute there,” you laugh and the other two join in, not bothering to inquire any further into your space out.

You ended up staying until 3am, eventually working up the courage to excuse yourself to the bathroom because 1) you really needed to pee and 2) wanted to text Touya to pick you up. He obliged and now you were in his car together. He was driving you home as you debriefed about girls night, including what Ochaco had said to you and how that made you feel. How bad you felt for Himiko, knowing how much she liked Ochaco and how those feelings weren’t close to being reciprocated.

“Didn’t realise bubblegum bitch was such ahhhhhh…” “I know right?” You looked up at Touya, smiling to yourself seeing him in the pale moonlight. His tattooed hand was on your knee, thumb rubbing back and forth as you continued talking about the events of tonight. Touya listens to your yapping patiently, cutting in at some points to laugh at you or make fun of you, especially for your desire to preserve your ‘modesty’ for Halloween.

He drops you home, walking you up to your front door. He covers your head with his arm raised, jacket protecting you from the light drizzle of rain. He gives you a warm cuddle and forehead kiss before stepping back and telling you to get inside already. Touya watches you enter your house and turn the lights on before leaving.

…⊹₊⟡⋆…

The next morning, you wake up to a phone call from your best friend, Mina. You groan, groggily picking up the phone and answering the phone call. The first thing you hear is Mina scream.

You pull the phone away from your ear as she yells into the microphone, “[Y/N]!! [Y/N]! IT’S OCHACO. SHE’S… she’s dead.” You rub your face with your palm, yawning.

“Alright, Mina. Give it up. I’m not fal—”

“NO! [Y/N].” You can hear the shake in her voice, the tears staining her cheeks and muddying her voice as she continues, “SHE’S DEAD!!” You sit upright in bed, telling her that you’ll be over right away.

You scamper out of bed, running to the bathroom to brush your teeth before hopping in the car and driving to Mina’s. When you get there, the cops are already on the scene. As is Kirishima. You spot him in front of the house, among the police. He’s got his back to you. Beneath his muscular arms you can see pink hair poking out. You rush over to them, calling out to Mina. She looks up upon hearing her name and comes over to you, falling into your arms. You hold her tight, catching the bloody sight of Ochaco at the side of the house.

You see, Mina lives in an isolated area near a lake. Her house is surrounded by dense trees. The only way to her house is along a dirt path.

You can see how the ground is still wet from the pitter patter of rain in the early hours of the morning. Blood soaks the dirt near Mina’s bedroom window, painting a trail to Ochaco’s limp, bloodied body dangling from a tree. It’s too far off for you to make out the specifics. But one thing is for sure, she’s not your friend anymore. She is now no more than an empty, mutilated shell left in this world.

A sob chokes in your throat as you avert your eyes, looking at your usually bubbly friend crying out her heart in your arms. Her boyfriend hovers close to her. The cops watch your interaction before interrupting you after a few minutes, asking you if you know the victim. You, of course, tell them that you do and they lead you away to ask you a few questions. And then a few more questions which spirals into a full-blown investigation. You leave out any mention of what Ochaco had said about Himiko last night and how you told Touya. You don’t know why — I mean, that’s pretty valuable information, right? But, there’s a feeling, a voice in you telling you not to say it.

After the cops are satisfied with your answers, and after you’ve provided them with Himiko’s contact details, they give you some space. You immediately call Touya, telling him what’s happened and how you need him here urgently. After ending the phone call, you walk back over to Kirishima and Mina, discussing what had happened. You all watch as Ochaco’s body is cut down from the tree and covered with white.

Mina told you that she hadn’t heard anything last night, that she had been sleeping peacefully until waking up this morning. Confused as to where Ochaco went, she looked out of her window and saw the brown-haired girl’s body. She had then called the cops, Kiri, and you.

You’re sniffling, unable to hold everything back any longer. As you begin to break down, you hear Touya calling your name. You whisper his in relief, running up to him and throwing yourself into his arms. He feels warm, hot, as he always does. His embrace makes you melt, your tears and sorrows pouring out into the white long sleeve he’s got on. The cops take notice of Touya’s arrival but don’t say anything; you are in literal shambles in your boyfriend’s arms so it’s probably not the best time to call him over for questioning.

You had been angry with how Ochaco had… had almost betrayed? Backstabbed? Lied to? Himiko. But now, all of that is gone. You mourned for the loss of an incredibly bright and kind girl, even though she had her downfalls. We all did, right?

Touya held you strong. He never faltered. He held you and ran his pale fingers through your [h/c] locks, rubbing circles on your back to help you calm down. And it worked. After ten or so minutes, you were back to sniffling.

You look up into his striking ocean eyes, pulling back from his embrace. Your voice is thick with grief as you say, “Touya. Touya, I—” You couldn’t continue anymore, the pain too great.

“I know.” He gave you a gentle smile before drawing you back into his arms.

Most of the officers left soon after, a few stragglers assessing the crime scene marked with yellow tape. You and Mina went your separate ways and Touya drove you back to his place so he could take care of you during this emotional time. You couldn’t have asked for a better boyfriend.

…⊹₊⟡⋆…

It’s been a couple weeks since Ochaco’s murder. The police had informed you that she had been stabbed 13 times, no sign of struggle. It would have been in her last moments that she was hung from the tree. Whoever the killer was was intelligent, as basically all of the evidence had been washed away with the rain of that night. The investigators concluded that Ochaco must of known her killer and followed them out of Mina’s bedroom, through her window, before she was stabbed to death.

The investigators also informed you that they had spoken to Himiko and the information she provided was very similar to yours.

It was too much for you to bear. You cast the thought of it all to the back of your mind. I mean, why would anyone kill Ochaco? What kind of motive could they have had? It all seemed so hazy to you.

You stayed at Touya’s place for the first week after it happened. You couldn’t handle sleeping alone in the darkness, so Touya would wrap you up in his soothing, lean arms and sleep with you. He would leave the window curtains open, the moonlight just bright enough so you didn’t feel scared and dim enough so you could sleep properly. But, it couldn’t stop the nightmares. Ever since that day, you’ve been waking up in the middle of the night screaming and crying. When you were with Touya, he would wake up with you and make sure that you were okay.

“God, [y/n], you freaked me the fuck out,” he groaned.

You sniffled, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Touya.” You were crying into your hands. Touya pulled you into his chest, rubbing your back with his palms. He would just hold you until you calmed down, eventually pulling back and cupping your cheeks with his warm hands.

“You wanna take a shower? Tell me about it?” You nodded, following his lead as he guided you to the bathroom, leaving you alone to shower and preparing some hot tea for you when you were finished.

You came out of the bathroom, wearing one of Touya’s shirts that was clearly too big for you. You curled up on his bed next to him and he handed you a cup of steaming tea.

“You right?” You shook your head. Your lips formed an ‘o’ shape and blew away the steam. You told him how you dreamt of you being Ochaco on the last night of her life, in her last moments. How your killer was a black figure. Unknown yet familiar; you carelessly allowed it to lure you to your death.

After you finished your tea, Touya would set your cups on the night stand and pull you back under the covers, cuddling up with you and reassuring you that that would never happen with him here, right beside you. And then, he wasn’t beside you anymore.

In your time staying at Touya’s, you had been close to Himiko. You two mourned together when Touya had late night classes as they lived together with the rest of the gang. You could see how much Ochaco had meant to Himiko in the darkness under the blonde’s eyes. How she seemed almost numb, angry when she wasn’t crying. She had even convinced Jin to let her have one of his cigarettes. However, upon her first inhale, she had bent over in a coughing fit, whining about how foul it was and gave it back to him.

You were glad that when you weren’t with her, Jin was.

After returning home, you found that the nights alone were the hardest. You had contemplated calling Touya on more than one occasion, but you had already kept him up for a week. How could you keep him up for another one? Or longer?

Once it hit a month afterwards, you were doing a lot better. You were smiling more, laughing and making jokes again. Your friends started teasing you, saying “She’s back. [Y/n]’s back.” But, they couldn’t say the same for Mina. She had been quite closed off ever since the incident. She would only talk with you, Himiko, and Kirishima. When you did talk, she would tell you that she too had been having nightmares, and how tortured she felt over the whole ordeal. How if she had only woken up during the night, maybe things would have been different. Maybe Ochaco wouldn’t be dead.

Today, you were doing a group project as part of your final assessment for the unit. The task was to create a presentation on a research question of your choosing. Each member had a different role and all of you had to speak during the class presentation, which was set to happen at the end of next week.

In your group was Tenya, Asui, and unfortunately, Monoma. The blond wouldn’t shut up. For the past 20 minutes, he’s been talking about the research information he’s gathered (which was little to none) in the most grandiose of ways. You heard from your peers that this man was an absolute nightmare to work with, and they were right. Tenya interjects during one of Monoma’s short pauses.

“Monoma-kun, do you think we could move on—”

“Ah-ah.” Monoma waves his finger from side to side in Tenya’s face. “I’m not finished yet.” With a satisfied grin from the group’s submission, he continues on. The whole lesson turns into the most uninteresting yap session. It has you resting your cheek on your palm, stealing glances with Tenya and Asui.

As soon as the bell rings, you’re out of there. You’ve got two hours before your next lecture, so you decide to grab some lunch and go to the library. You’re walking over to your favourite café on campus when you spot a certain blond and black haired boy. You’re already turning around, fully prepared to hit up one of the other cafés when you hear him call out to you.

“[Y/n]! Hey!” You turn back around, seeing the boy jog over to you. You’re tempted to make a run for it, but you know that’s not the nice thing to do.

You know that Denki doesn’t mean any harm. He likes you, you can tell, everyone can tell. He’s just a young guy who is still figuring things out. You empathise with him and he can be such a cutie sometimes. BUT, what you object to is the fact that you have a boyfriend and have had the same one for almost a year now, which Denki knows, and yet, he still follows you around like a lost puppy and sometimes talks like he has a chance with you. You’ve tried to put him down nicely in the past, which earned quite the disapproving girl talk with Mina and… and Ochaco.

You push back the thought of her, and, therefore, the thought(s) of her death. You force a smile onto your face, focusing on the boy coming up to you. He’s close now and he smiles at you widely.

“Hey, [y/n]. Where have you been? I feel like I haven’t seen you in agessss.”

You laugh superficially, replying in monotone, “Denki, you saw me yesterday.” Denki shifts to rub the back of his neck with his hand, a sheepish look on his face now.

“Did I?”

“Yes, Denki. You did.” You silently hope that you’re not coming off as rude but also, you silently hope that you are so he can take the hint and leave you alone. You’re not in the mood to deal with him after dealing with another particularly trying blond for the past hour.

Unfortunately, Denki doesn’t take notice of your annoyance. “Oh. Well, what’re you doing around here, [y/n]? Hey, while you’re here, why don’t we grab some lunch together? Do you see that café over there? They have really good—”

“Denki,” you cut him off. You’re really not in the mood to deal with him right now.

You’re about to tell Denki to get lost nicely when a familiar arm drapes around your shoulders. You look up, and who do you see?

A) Touya

B) Your pookie bear

C) A tattooed hottie

D) A man with family issues

E) All of the above

Ding ding ding, it’s E. You stare up at him with a grateful look in your eyes. He’s looking down at Denki. His sharp blue eyes pierced through the nerd.

“Hey, you’re Denki, right? My girlfriend has told me so much about you.” Touya extends his hand towards Denki, but the blond just stands there, eyes shifting from you to Touya and back.

“U-um, yea, haha, yea ugh, it’s nice to meet you too.” Denki’s hand trembles like his voice. He takes Touya’s hand and they shake curtly.

Touya continues, “I hope you don’t mind but, my girlfriend and I are gonna get some lunch and,” he looking down at you, smirk on his face, “go to the library. Please excuse us.”

Touya leads you away, Denki too dumbfounded to respond. You swear he short-circuits as you walk away, probably shaking his hand from Touya’s next level grip strength.

You’re silent too. Or have you been silenced? You have definitely been silenced. You can feel Touya’s muscles flex around you. He looks down at you again. “What?” You notice that he’s guiding you to the café you were originally going to go to.

“N-nothing,” you stutter. “I just… I just didn’t think you could be so cool.”

Touya chuckles, “What do you mean? I am cool. I’m the fucking coolest.” You giggle, leaning your head on his chest.

Touya buys you two lunch and you sit down by the window at the back of the shop to enjoy it. He notices that lingering furrow between your [b/c] brows and asks you about what’s bothering you. You love (and hate) how observant he is. You cough it up, not bothering to keep to yourself how annoying Monoma has been. This is only the second lesson you’ve been working in a group with him and he’s actually driving you insane.

Touya listens to you quietly before reminding you to eat and telling you how strong you are. After you’re both finished, he drops you off at the library. He’s already half an hour late to his lecture but he shrugs it off, saying that he’s happy to spend a bit more time with his girl, especially when she’s so stressed. He gives you a quick kiss before he leaves.

In a way, you’re grateful that he has class. Your ‘study’ sessions usually turn into something else… if you know what I mean wink.

You head inside the library, shivering at how cold it is inside. You spot Mina and Kirishima in the corner of the library, their table big enough for four. You approach slowly, not too sure if it would be appropriate to join them. But, your hesitancy fades away as Mina notices you coming over and waves at you in an enthusiastic gesture, reminiscent of her former bubbly glow. The gesture makes you smile and you come over to their table a little faster. Kirishima makes some space for you and you sit down next to him, saying ‘Hi’ to them both.

You begin getting out your laptop and other supplies. As you do so, you say, “I hope I wasn’t interrupting anything.” Mina frowns.

“No, you weren’t at all. Actually, you’re late.” You blink, forehead creasing in confusion.

You set your My Melody pencil case down on the table and ask in a high-pitched tone, “I am?”

Mina watches you under a scrutinising eye. You haven’t seen her this interested in anything ever since the incident. “Didn’t your class finish at 1pm? It’s two now.” You just stare at her for a few seconds before laughing awkwardly.

“Um, yea. I was with Touya.”

“Oh,” is all she says as she leans back. She had unconsciously been leaning forward towards you, anxious for your answer.

Was Mina… back? In that, she hasn’t been this nosy in weeks? And that “Oh”? “What do you mean by that?” You ask, looking at her. She’s hiding her face now behind her laptop, straightening it at a right angle. Your eyes narrow at her.

“Mina.” She shrugs, pulling her laptop closed.

“What?”

“What’s gotten into you? Is everything okay?” You ask, your voice laced with concern. Mina looks away from you to Kirishima. You can tell something was exchanged in their look. Something that puts you on edge. You look between them.

“What’s going on?”

Kirishima says, “It’s nothing, [y/n]. Mina and I were just talking about you two before you came in, that’s all.” ‘You two’? As in, you and Touya?

“Kiri, what do you mean? Touya and I?” Kirishima opens his mouth to answer but Mina beats him to it.

“Isn’t he a bit too old for you, [y/n]? Not to mention all of the tattoos and the kinda people he hangs out with.” You further furrow your brows, hands subconsciously clenching into fists as you stare at her. How dare she?

Touya has been nothing if not the best partner. How could she say that? Especially since Ochaco’s death. He’s been there for you when even Mina wasn’t. “He’s in second year, so what?”

Kirishima asks, genuine concern in his eyes, “Isn’t he like 24 though?” You look at the red-head next to you, giving him a rather angry look.

“23 actually.” He shrugs.

“Not like it makes much of a difference.”

You can hear your heartbeat in your ears, the blood rushing. Your face is heating up too.

“What’s your point?” You say between gritted teeth to the couple.

“Look [y/n],” Kirishima raises his hands in surrender, “We’re just worried about you, that’s all. It’s not smart to date older guys at your age.”

The tension is thick in the air. You’re all quiet. You open your laptop, looking at the screen as it lights up, anxiously awaiting your password.

You sigh, “Look guys, I really appreciate your concern. But, if you could just get to know Touya, you would see that you’re wrong about him.”

“I don’t think s—” The sounds of screaming cut Mina off. You and everyone else in the library look out the windows, seeing people form groups. Some lone wolves join a large group all huddled near the entrance to the library. One student is distraught, tears running down their face. You recognise that orange hair in a high ponytail. Kendo.

You stand up, Mina standing up with you and linking her arm in yours. You two give each other a look. The look that you’re in this together, no matter what happens. You leave Kirishima sitting at the table in confusion as you head out of the library. You walk over to where Kendo is, crying into a familiar silver-haired man. Kirishima’s teammate (and ultimate rival) in baseball.

“Tetsutetsu, Kendo, what happened?” Mina asks the pair. Kendo looks up. Seeing you two through blurry teal eyes, she begins to cry harder. You want to reach out to comfort her but, you know that now isn’t the time.

Tetsutetsu starts to answer for her, “Monoma’s been—”

“Killed!” Kendo cries out. With tears streaming down her cheeks and neck, she chokes out the words, “He’s been killed!”

You and Mina exchange a glance before looking back to the two of them.

You ask Tetsutetsu, “Is that true?” He nods.

“But how?” Mina questions. At this, Kendo breaks out into even harder sobs. A tanned hand comes to Mina’s shoulder, Kirishima standing behind her.

“I think we’re making it worse,” you say quietly to Mina and her boyfriend. Tetsutetsu hears you though (of course) and nods.

“Kendo was one of the students that found him. If you could,” he jerks his head to the side, signalling for you all to leave. You all apologise and give your condolences to Kendo.

You float from group to group, trying to get as much information as you can out of them. Everyone has something different to say. Some say that it was a suicide. Others say that it was definitely a murder. Apparently, he died from a head wound in the boys’ locker room. No one knows the specifics. And no one gets time to find out as the authorities arrive. Kirishima offers to take you both home to which you agree to.

As he reaches your place, your phone dings: two new messages from ‘mafia boss’. You click on the message from your boyfriend. It reads:

mafia boss: you heard about that fuck head?

mafia boss: do you need a ride home?

you: no thanks. kiri’s taking mina and i home. you okay?

You look up, realising that you’ve been texting while Kirishima has been waiting for you to get out. You apologise and grab your things, opening the car door and wishing the two of them the best. There’s a weight on your chest but you let it fester until you’re inside your bedroom. You throw your heavy backpack on your plush chair and put your phone on ‘Do not Disturb’. You then sit down on your bed, elbows on your knees, face in your hands, and you cry.

Why were you crying over someone who had irritated you? Wasted your time?

Monoma may have been annoying, narcissistic, and overly grandiose. BUT, he didn’t deserve to die for any of those things. You couldn’t help but feel like somehow, this was all of your fault. Maybe you were getting too much in your own head, getting a little too full of yourself. But, why were these people who had annoyed you dying hours later? Were you cursing them? Was your anger some kind of curse? Were you the one that had condemned them to such a fate? You didn’t believe in magic, but you couldn’t explain such happenings any other way.

For the rest of the night, you sat in your bed, watching your favourite film and cuddling with your favourite plushie, trying to regain some sense of normality in these chaotic times.

…⊹₊⟡⋆…

A few weeks have passed since Monoma’s death. Your college released a letter a few days later stating that the police had ruled the blond’s death as a homicide. His baseball bat covered in only his fingerprints and blood was found next to his body in the men’s locker rooms. Death by trauma to the head. The weapon of choice clearly the baseball bat. The men’s locker rooms have only just reopened but no students are keen to use it. A memorial has also been erected on campus to honour his death.

Feeling guilty for what happened to him, you had bought him the most expensive bouquet at the supermarket and laid it by the others. You had whispered a short prayer, eyes closed, basking in the warmth of the autumn sun and the thick air of death.

Since then, you have been trying your best not to get annoyed or angry with anyone, fearing that there might be repercussions for doing so. The last thing you wanted to happen was for someone to die whom you had been irritated with. Such would confirm that indeed, you were really cursed. Or, a curse.

Like Ochaco, you had nightmares of what happened to Monoma most nights. But this time, you were not the victim, you were the perpetrator. Night after night you woke up in fits, eyes hazy and mind frenzied by the exhilaration of hitting that narcissistic boy over the head with his own baseball bat. In your dreams, you relished the feeling of seeing him fall to the ground, cursing your name, bleeding it. The adrenaline high was unlike any other, dropping the bat down next to him and making a break for it out the back.

You knew that Mina had been affected too. All of this death was draining the life from her. Her vitality sucked dry like salt on leeches. You never spoke to her of these dreams, nor did you to anyone else. You didn’t want to worry them. Instead, choosing to cry on your own most nights and make yourself your own cup of hot tea to relax.

By now, it was getting better. Things were evening out. The temperature was cooling to that perfect not-too-hot degree. The leaves were orange and brown now. Crispy. Falling to the ground. Perfect to crunch beneath your boots. You loved the refreshing breeze, especially after a night of rainfall. And with Mina’s annual Halloween party drawing near, you were feeling the best you had within the past couple months.

You had decided on a couple costume with Touya as Mina had with her boyfriend. You were still in the process of convincing Touya that going as an angel and devil was a good idea. You would be the angel and he the devil, duh. You already had the white corset, miniskirt, and knee-high boots. All you needed was a halo and wings. You ended up throwing caution to the wind and opting for a more scandalous outfit because why not? You wanted to have a good time, feel good in your body. Ain’t nothing wrong with that.

You were at Target right now, texting Touya pictures of the different wings they had. You couldn’t decide whether to opt for long or short wings.

you: [image attachments]

you: which one do you like better? long or short?

mafia boss: does it matter? just pick one.

you: of course it matters! it changes the look you know

mafia boss: whatever. just get the cheapest one. i’ll end up taking it off you anyways

you: 🧍

mafia boss: don’t text me just emojis. you know i hate it when you do that

you: 👉👈

mafia boss: [y/n]

mafia boss: stop that shit

you: 🙅

mafia boss: fucking hell. you’re so annoying you know that? can’t stand you sometimes

you: sorry boss😔

mafia boss: fuck off

two minutes later

mafia boss: get the short ones

You already had them in your cart after deciding that the long wings would be too much of a hassle to move around in. You headed to the self-checkout and paid for your goodies. Walking back to your car, you text the girls group chat about your purchases and they let you know that they’re almost done as well. The party is tomorrow night after all!

You make it back home safely and unpack your boot. Afterwards, you grab a glass of iced water and some frozen grapes, getting ready to settle into an afternoon study session.

…⊹₊⟡⋆…

The party was in an hour.

You were sitting on your bedroom floor, applying concealer to your dark under-eyes. You had already put on your costume (except for the wings and halo of course). You put on your makeup with a steady hand, thankfully applying your eyeliner perfectly the first time. It was one of those rare occasions where your wings were twins, not sisters. You finished off with some setting powder and setting spray, ecstatic with how the look turned out. You then put your products away in your organiser, throwing mascara-stained tissues in the small pink bin near the door.

Standing up, you grabbed your phone form your bed and saw Touya’s message that he was outside. You smiled to yourself and giggled a little, excited to show him your costume and to see him in his. You slipped on your halo and boots, leaving your wings for just before the party. You took a moment to look at yourself in the mirror. The corset highlighted your perked breasts, tiny waist and divine curves to perfection while the miniskirt showed off your round ass. Satisfied, you grabbed your clutch and headed to your front door. Before leaving, you called out to your parents, letting them know that you were going now.

As soon as you stepped out, you caught sight of Touya leaning against the side of his car, inked arms crossed over his chest. His white, spiky hair was the perfect contrast to the dark colour palette of his costume. Silky black button up rolled up to his elbows, barely buttoned to show off his toned contours; tight fitting black trousers to draw attention to those meaty thighs paired with black dress shoes. You were obsessed with the silver chains dangling from his neck, one with a large cross on it. He had changed his ear piercings to match. It was giving tortured mafia boss if not for the blood-red devil-horns headband clutched tight in his veiny hands.

You really should have had more input in his costume as it was CRIMINAL to look this good.

A lazy smile stretches across his face as he takes in you and your incessant ogling. Your knees have gone slightly weak from the sight of your boyfriend like this. But, you power through as you walk over to him, trying your best to look as effortless and confident as he does.

Once you’re within reach, he wraps his arm around your shoulders. He draws you into him, avoiding the bobbling halo with his chin. He smells like pine and cigarettes. Must have been with Jin.

“Don’t you clean up well?” You tease, pulling back from him.

“This?” He raises an eyebrow, sharp blue eyes narrowing slightly as he looks down at you. “This is nothing.” You chuckle, slapping your palm playfully against his exposed chest.

“This is everything,” you say to Touya as he moves and opens the passenger door for you.

The drive to Mina’s place isn’t too long. You love the little lanterns she’s put along the driveway; larger jack-o lanterns closer to the house. It had been cleared and returned back to Mina’s family at the start of this week from the authorities, just in time for her party. You noticed that the place already looked full, the party in full swing. Were you late?

Touya parks off to the side and you slip on your wings before he grabs your hand and guides you inside. There are already many drunk young people dancing or making out when you walk into the living room. You spot Mina and Himiko sitting together on the couch. Himiko notices you first and gives you a big wave, standing up as you come over. She came as a vampire, fake blood smeared across her lips and neck. Her already sharp canines make for the perfect fangs. She takes you into her arms, giving you a big hug before complimenting your costume. You return the compliment and move over to give Mina a hug.

She’s dressed as a playboy bunny; bow tie and white cuffs, black corset showing off her curves. Behind the couch, Kirishima stands in a tux.

“I love this,” you say, pulling away from her warm embrace. Your finger points to her costume. She giggles and eyes your costume in return.

“Spin!” She squeals. You laugh at her enthusiasm, doing a little spin. Your eyes meet Touya’s for a moment and all he can do is smirk at you.

“This is so hot!!” She exclaims as she claps her hands together. You laugh and thank her.

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Touya looking around the room, his eyes scanning intensely as if searching for someone. You sit down on the couch; he’s in front of you. “Touya,” you start as you lean forward and grab his hand, “You okay?” He looks down at you with slightly wide eyes and raised brows. Yet in a second, all notion of surprise has been erased from his face. He now stares at you with an almost hungry glare, tongue darting out across his lower lip as his familiar grin stretches across his face.

“Fine. Why don’t I get you a drink?” You shake your head, Touya knows you don’t like drinking at parties.

Seeing your reluctance, he gets down on one knee in front of you. His other large, warm hand envelops yours.

“Come on, babe. You know I’ll take care of you.” You bite your lower lip, thinking his proposition over. Finally, you nod. One drink can’t hurt, right? He smiles wider, rising from the floor and leaving you with your friends on the couch.

You and the girls chat for a little before Himiko sees Midoriya arrive. In an instant, she’s up and walking over to him. You and Mina giggle, giving each other that knowing look.

You come a little closer and whisper in her ear, “Do you think Midoriya knows how she feels?”

Mina slaps your shoulder playfully as she rolls her eyes. “No way! He’s dumb as when it comes to romance.” You two laugh until Mina stands up suddenly, telling you that she and Kiri are gonna go check on the other guests. You nod, albeit saddened that you would be left alone. What was taking Touya so long? You wonder.

You don’t have to wonder for long though as a certain blond and black-haired boy comes almost running over to you.

“[Y/n]!! There you are! I was worried you weren’t gonna make it tonight.” Denki. You watch, mentally pleading for him not to come over as he comes over. You stand up to meet him, forcing yourself not to sigh or roll your eyes. Just play nice, you tell yourself. Touya will be here soon.

“Hey, Denki.” You give him a forced smile. He doesn’t seem to notice though (when does he ever?). His doe eyes rake over your figure, clearly enjoying how sumptuous you look in such a tight bodice and short skirt. You internally curse yourself. This is the kind of situation you wanted to avoid. Sex-crazed teenage boys checking you out. Should have come as a ghost or inflatable dinosaur, you think.

“Damn girl, someone better tell God he’s missing an angel.” Denki’s licking his lips, his golden eyes meeting yours. The lewd look in them sends shivers down your spine. And not in a good way.

You laugh nervously, “Haha yea, um. And what’re you, Denki?”

“I’m a cowboy obviously.” You get a better look at his costume. Cowboy boots, akubra, fringed jacket. How didn’t you see that? You furrow your brows, assuming that you were probably too uncomfortable to notice when a cold hand grabs your shoulder. You squeak, jumping slightly. You turn around, stepping back so you’re closer to Denki than you’re usually comfortable with. You’re met with deep red eyes beneath long, light blue waves.

“Shigaraki,” you breathe out. You chuckle, embarrassed by how much he surprised you.

“Come,” he says. You stop laughing. You look back at those soulless, bored eyes. They stare at you but you don’t feel like they’re really staring at you.

“What?”

“Come. We’re gonna have some fun,” he states in monotone.

He starts walking away from you, stopping near the doorway. He looks back at you expectantly. You turn to look at Denki. His golden gaze flickers back and forth between the blue-haired boy and you. You clear your throat briefly before you bid him a goodbye.

“Sorry, Denki. I’ll see you around.” You raise your hand to wave but he pipes up, “No!” You tilt your head to the side in confusion.

“I-I’ll come with you.” He leans closer to you and it takes everything in you not to lean back. He whispers to you, the scent of alcohol on his breath, “I don’t trust him.” You shake your head.

“That’s not necessary, Denki. I’m flattered, really, but—” Denki’s already started walking towards Shigaraki. He looks back at you, feigning confidence.

“Are you coming or what?”

You sigh. Your feet move on instinct towards the doorway where Shigaraki is. Denki waits for you to catch up and then stays behind you. Real tough guy.

Shigaraki leads you out of Mina’s house and into the surrounding woods. You all walk together without a light. The moon is bright overhead; full. It casts a certain glow over the scenery. You are closely behind Shigaraki and you notice his ‘costume’ (if you could call it that). He’s in a pair of baggy jeans and his usual long sleeve black tee.

“What did you come as, Shiggy?” You ask him.

He doesn’t turn around as he mumbles, “A high school drop-out.”

You continue walking in the twilight woods, dodging trees and their sagging branches. Twigs and dry leaves snap beneath your feet and you can hear the chattering of animals. By now, the sounds of the party have faded into the background. Only the reverb trickles to where you are. You begin to think that Shiggy lured you out here to fuck with you. Was this really his idea of fun?

You catch a glimpse of the lake. It sparkles beneath the full moon. The surface shimmers like a million jewels. The water is dark, more black than blue, nothing like Touya’s eyes. He has such bright, burning eyes. You feel a pang in your chest; you miss him already.

“Shiggy, where are we going?” You whine. You can hear how that nickname had his lips pressing into a hard line. He’s despised it ever since you started calling him that. But, he tolerates it. He knows that you like calling him that and Touya will have a go at him if he upsets you.

“Look.” His voice is as dull and cold as ever.

You look past his broad shoulders, seeing the outline of a cabin come into view. You couldn’t hear anything from inside and there didn’t appear to be any lights turned on.

“Is it just us or?” You ask.

“Y-yea.” Denki’s voice shakes. He clears his throat and you look behind you, seeing him a little further back than you thought he was. His hat has been lost to the wilderness. Shigaraki doesn’t respond as he emerges from the trees.

The space around the cabin has been cleared; a little path made tracking down to the lake. It looks abandoned. The vegetation is overgrown, vines climbing up the undulating wood. Shigaraki almost looks ghostly, godly, ethereal in the unfiltered moonlight. The light bounces off of his pale, dry skin. His hair looks like the soft ripples on the lake’s surface. His eyes sparkle like garnets. Your breath is taken away by the sight of him like this. The way his skin stretches taut over his jaw, collarbones, his scarred hands… What’s wrong with you?

You can’t see it but, you look like an actual angel from the heavens above in the moon’s glow. It catches on your loose curls which trail down to your waist, on the curve of your breasts pressed tight against your corset. It gives the exposed skin of your thighs and calves a certain radiance.

In a cacophony of twigs snapping and insects groaning, Denki stumbles out from the tree-line. You both turn your heads to look at him. Your usual response would be to giggle, but there was something unsettling in the air. Maybe it was the fact that it was Halloween. That you were all alone in the middle of the woods with two men, one you trust and one that looks like he might throw up from fear. That the sun’s burnish had since faded, leaving only the blackness of night. You couldn’t shake this feeling that something bad was going to happen.

Shigaraki moves towards the front door, opening it with some force due to the moss that had grown on the edges. He opens it wide, nodding for you all to enter. You look back at Denki and see how pale he’s become. Deciding that it’s for the best, you walk up to the cabin first and enter sideways to avoid hitting your wings. It takes a few moments for your eyes to adjust to the darkness of the cabin. The only light is that of the moon’s streaming in through the spider-webbed windows. You can just make out the lines of a couch off to the side when the door behind you slams shuts.

You try to turn around but you don’t get far. Your eyes widen as Shigaraki’s arm wraps around yours, pulling them behind your back. His hard body presses into you from behind.

“Shiggy!” You shout. His other hand comes to your chest, arm pressing slightly into your neck and keeping you facing forward. You whimper, struggling and trying to fight him off.

What you don’t notice is the man standing in front of you. Your jerking movements are silenced by his words.

“What’s wrong, baby? Aren’t you happy to see me?”

You look up, rapidly taking in a wide-eyed and equally panicking Denki. Pressed against his side, a figure black as night intercut by pale, tattooed skin and deliciously defined muscles. You meet those ocean blue eyes, crinkled in amusement. A wide, manic grin is spread across his pink-inked lips.

“Touya.” Your voice is barely audible. You struggle even harder in Shigaraki’s hold. “Touya! Touya, what’s going on? I thought—” You let out a yelp as your blue-haired captor tightens his grip on you.

“Touya,” you yelp. You’re looking up at him with desperation in your eyes. Your breathing is stuttered and heartbeat erratically thumping in your chest.

Touya’s fierce eyes flicker to his accomplice for a moment before meeting yours again.

“What did you think? That we were gonna ‘have some fun’? We are, baby.” Touya shifts forward, bringing a struggling Denki with him. “We are.” And then you see it. The silver sleek glimmer of a knife.

It’s like time has slowed down twofold as you watch Touya’s pale fingers flex around the steel handle and raise the blade, plunging it deep into the blond boy’s chest. You scream. Your shriek echoes in your own mind, bouncing off the walls. Reverberating. You can’t close your eyes but you can’t bear to watch as Touya continues to drive the knife into Denki’s increasingly limp body. You can’t stop seeing the blood bleeding out, staining, conquering the plaid shirt he wears, spilling onto the fringed jacket, spewing onto his jeans. You can’t stop hearing his shrieks and pleas for mercy. His pain. Your eyes, your ears, are glued to the sight.

Touya throws him to the side. Limp body landing with a thud like a doll. His golden eyes are dull, lifeless, wide-open. His final resting face is one of terror. Even in death, he’s looking at you.

Hot, dripping, blood-stained fingers grab harshly at your jaw, bringing your gaze to your… Your what? Your boyfriend? Lover? The man that just stabbed an innocent boy to death in front of you? His brows furrow, seeing your unfocused gaze. All you can utter is his name.

“Touya…” He bursts out laughing. In a fit. You watch as he just stands there, fingers gripping you harshly, and cackling harshly. At what? You don’t understand. What could possibly be funny about this situation?

“Touya, why?” You ask quietly. It’s all you can do to keep yourself from collapsing on the floor. He snaps his head back to you.

“Why? Isn’t it obvious? I’m doing this all for you.”

Did you hear that right?

He chuckles, “You can’t really be that dumb, can you?” You stopped functioning about three minutes ago. You’re left speechless by him, no response forming in your mind. Only the scenes of what you just saw fill it. Your consciousness. Your unconsciousness. You can taste the metallic scent of blood on your tongue. You inhale it, unable to escape its tang. It fills the cabin, stifling.

“You really haven’t worked it out? Bubblegum bitch, that narcissist, and short circuit over here. I killed them all for you.”

What?

He. You. I… He what?

You blink slowly, trying to un-hear the words you just heard.

“Touya—”

“You just don’t get it, do you?” He steps back, putting distance between you and taking his bloodied fingers with him. He stretches his arms to the side, knife still in his hand, and looks upward.

“I love you so much, [y/n]. So much. I would kill for you. Why couldn’t you just ask me to?” His arms fall to his sides, head lowering to look back to you. He has this crazed melancholy look in his eyes. You feel Shigaraki’s fingers shift on arm, causing you to whimper. He had been holding you so tight. Somehow, you hadn’t even noticed until now.

You’re choking back sobs, tears welling in the corners of your eyes as you speak, “T-Touya.” Your voice wavers. You look down, letting the tears fall. Your breaths are shaky, racking through your body. You stand there, kept upright by Shigaraki’s harsh grip, sobbing. You would fall to the floor if you could. Touya’s sharp eyes watch your every movement. He sees how much your small shoulders tremble with your tears. But, he doesn’t have time to deal with your emotional outburst when he’s got other plans on his mind.

You feel Touya’s familiar hand gripping your shoulder, pushing you back slightly. You throw your head back, teary eyes meeting his. You blink, his perfect face becoming clearer. “You’re my girl, aren’t you? Forever mine.” He’s smiling down at you, all traces of sadness gone. Replaced with something else. You bite your lower lip roughly, trying to keep the tremors in.

You know that the victims of the love of your life had annoyed you, had hurt you, but did they deserve to die for that? You couldn’t say for certain.

You can feel his grip on your shoulder tighten. You yelp and cry out, “I-I… I don’t know, Touya. I don’t know!” This was too much to process. Too much for you to handle.

He looks past you to Shigaraki. He commands the blue-haired boy to hold your neck. You shudder in fright and struggle, crying out ‘No!’ Unfortunately, to no avail. Shigaraki’s got your head pinned to the side with his hand that was on your chest. The length of your neck is exposed to your boyfriend. You look to the side, your pretty eyes wide and afraid. Like a deer in headlights. You watch as Touya raises the blood-slicked knife to your pale, delicate skin. And then, you feel it.

You scream out in pain, white-hot searing pain as you feel the blade dig into your skin, dragging across. A moment of relief, and then the burn is back. You’re crying, sobbing like your life depends on it. You’re praying to the Lords above, begging for sweet mercy on your soul.

After an eon of pain, the blade leaves your skin. But, it feels like it never left. You hear it thud on the floorboards.

You can’t seem to stop crying. You feel Shigaraki’s hand leave your cheek only for it to be replaced by Touya’s long, red fingers gripping your chin once more. You watch through cloudy eyes as he leans down, thick tongue on your wound, lapping your blood like a newborn pup it’s mother’s milk. You choke out another sob. He pulls back, stretching out his arms to you like he would when you fall into his arms and give him a big hug.

“Come ‘ere.”

Shigaraki lets go of you. You stumble forward, collapsing into Touya. You’re breathing hard. You can’t decide whether you’re repulsed by the wet drip-press of blood staining Touya’s clothes and skin against your clammy, trembling body. Touya taunts, teases you, “Why don’t we have some fun now?” You want to smack him across the head. And then tell him to never let you go. You barely manage a nod to which Touya smirks at your compliance. Not that it would have mattered. He knew he could always convince you.

Even though he’s hurt you, just now actually in a very tangible, painful way, you still loved him. God… You loved him like everyone loves cat videos, like flowers love the sun, or mosquitoes love LED zappers. You love him in a way that you are drawn to him, you want to be with him, and you need him, even if there are consequences. Since when have you been so clingy? It doesn’t matter now. There’s no cure for such inevitable feelings. He could kill you, he could’ve killed you, and you wouldn’t have cared. There is no way humanly possible that he could get rid of you now. That’s how you loved him.

He loops his arm under your legs, picking you up and carrying you. Your arms wrap around his neck, tears still running down your cheeks as pain courses throughout your body. And not just the physical kind. You don’t care to watch as Touya takes you up the stairs and to the master bedroom at the back of the cabin, Shigaraki silently following behind.

With one hand around you, he opens the bedroom door with the other. He walks through the threshold, coming over to the bed and dropping you onto it. You yelp in pain at the sudden drop. Your eyes squint at the glow of the lamp Touya just flicked on. He waits patiently for you to adjust, his body hovering above yours. Your eyes focus, seeing him really for the first time since he left your side at the party. He really is covered in blood, soaked to the bone. And soon, you will be too.

He leans down, bringing his lips to yours. You sigh into the kiss, enjoying the familiar heat he ignites beneath your skin. Your hands reach up and grip his shoulders. They slide up slicked with blood to his neck and then into his white, now red, locks. You can feel him smile into you. His own hands on you. One grasping the back of your neck, careful to avoid your still bleeding cut. The other was tight on your waist. You moan into his lips, relishing in the sweet, wet sensation of his tongue licking your lips and slipping into your mouth. You moan louder once your tongues swirl together. Your fingers tug at the hair on the base of his neck, earning a groan from him.

Soon enough, he pulls away and sits back on his haunches. You’re breathless, watching intently as he rips a strip of fabric from your white skirt. He leans down, using it to wipe the blood of the mark he’s left on you. He repeats the process, tearing off another strip. But this time, he presses the fabric into your weeping wound. You cry out, “Fuck, Touya! You’re hurting me.” He clicks his tongue at you. “Grit your teeth, love. I want your scar to be pretty.” You whimper in response, doing as he tells you.

After a couple of minutes, he removes the blood-soaked fabric from your neck. He turns it over and wipes it gently. A satisfied smirk spreads across his face; he throws it to the floor. He wipes his hands on your previously white corset, shifting back and rolling you over onto your stomach. You can feel him take off your angel wings that were attached to it before his fingers expertly work at the laces you asked your mother to tie only hours earlier. How innocent you were then. How untouched by the stench, the feel of blood caressing your soft skin. How holy your memories, the things you had seen were. Something you would never get back, not with time, not with healing.

You tried to push yourself up a little to breathe, seeing as your face was stuffed into a fluffy white pillow. But Touya wasn’t having that. As soon as you moved, the flat of his palm pressed down on your upper back, making your attempt futile. You settled for turning your head to the side. And what you see shocks you. More like, who you see. You hadn’t realised that Shigaraki followed you two up here. And now, your eyes were wide and mouth slightly agape at seeing him sitting on a plush chair in the corner, playing some game on his phone. Unbothered much? Goals fr.

You feel the release of your corset as Touya finishes ripping out the cord. He turns you over onto your back, thighs straddling your hips, and he tears the bodice from your body. Your hands reflexively come to your chest, covering your exposed breasts. That earns you creased brows and a tensed jaw from Touya. When he looks at you expectantly, urging you to drop your hands, you shake your head and then tilt it in Shigaraki’s direction. Touya reassures you, “Don’t worry about him.” His fingers wrap around your wrists pulling and pushing them down to your sides. “Pay attention to me.” You bite your lip and nod.

Touya runs his fingers over your chest, leaving burning-hot, red streaks across the porcelain skin. You shiver beneath his touch, his skin impossibly hot. The heat radiates and seeps into your body, your bones, with every single one of his touches. He’s got that shit-eating grin on his face, enjoying the effect he’s having on you. He leans down, lips leaving kisses and nips on your décolletage, making his way down to your full breasts. He bites at the flesh, sucking hickeys on the softness. You mewl the sensation, breath getting caught in your throat. Your fingers are back in his hair, gripping it tighter once he takes your nipple into his blazingly hot mouth. You cry out in pleasure.

Amidst the sensations turning you into a gooey mush beneath your lover’s fingertips, you can feel the cool, late night breeze on your skin. You turn your head to the side, seeing the window cracked open halfway. The view is stunning. The lake in clear view, only slightly hindered by the dense trees. It glistens the way it did when you were last outside. When Denki was still— You bite back at the thought, telling yourself that you would deal with the consequences of this all later. Right now, you just need to feel this. To feel him.

You moan, back arching slightly as Touya tongue drifts across your skin. The searing saliva like cold water painting your body because of the breeze. A break from his heat.

Touya’s hands come to your ribs, gently gripping them, feeling the ridges beneath and between his fingers, and pushing you back down onto the blankets. You bite your lip, sigh-moaning. He groans at the sight of his handprints on you once he trails his fingers down your stomach.

You’re bucking your hips, mewing his name as his fingers curl beneath the waistband of your white skirt. He chuckles, proud that he can get his little girl this riled up with such little foreplay. He begins to pull it down, but the skirt won’t budge without hurting you; it’s caught on your wide hips.

“Touyaaaa,” you moan. His brows furrow.

“How the fuck do I get this off you?” You giggle in response.

He speaks through tense teeth, “Where’s the zip?” He’s gripping your hips tightly through the skirt, trying to stop you from moving around so much. He loves how needy you are but he wants you to be patient. Something you’re not very good at.

“At the back,” you coo.

Armed with that knowledge, he grips the waistband, reefing it to the side so that he can see the zip. He pulls the zip down, dragging the skirt over your legs. Next, he removes your knee-high boots. He takes a few nips and bites at your calves and shins once pulling them off. You gasp in shock. You were so exposed now. The breeze like water washing over your body, basking it in coolness. All that was left was your halo headband and panties.

Leaning down, he stripped you of those too before returning to his spot between your legs, his lips and tongue on your stomach. He kisses down the length of it, giving the sides of your waist and hips extra attention. You love the sensation of his teeth drawing in the flesh over your hip bones. It has you squealing and moaning. It has your arousal pooling in between your legs. You feel grateful that your heat isn’t pressed against him. At least, not yet. That would be too much for you to handle right now.

And he doesn’t stop there. Soon, he’s raising your legs and draping them over his shoulders, leaving love bites all over your inner thighs. You can feel his hot breath fanning your pussy. It has you drawing in a shaky breath, waiting for his head to dip down and give you what you’ve been needing for the past couple months.

You moan loudly once his tongue is slipping through your folds, hitting all the right spots and leaving you shuddering in pleasure. He goes hard, sucking and slurping your cunt like it’s his lifeline. A slew of moans alongside the wet sloppy sounds of your pussy fill the room.

“Touya! Touyaaa.” You keep repeating his name as his tongue circles your clit, taking it into his mouth. The heat makes you melt even more into a blubbering mess of slick, sweat, and blood. You squeal as he slips his finger into you, no warning. You’re up on your elbows, looking down at him as he continues sucking your clit, smirking all the while, and drawing his finger in and out of your sopping hole. Your back arcs at a particularly deep push in of his finger, your elbows giving out. You moan at the sensation.

Seeing how much you enjoyed that, he adds another finger. Only two and you already feel so full of him. Touya might not have thick fingers, but their length plunges so deep into you. They have you mewling like his cock will once he slips it into you.

He continues sliding his fingers in and out of you, leans back slightly to take in the sight of his girl at his complete mercy. His thumb flicks over your clit, pressing hard while his fingers curl, hitting your g-spot. You can’t control the moans and whines that slip past your mouth once you feel that, and how they continue to spew from you as he continues to repeat the movement over and over again.

And then, he stops. Touya draws his fingers out of you. You watch, mind hazy with pleasure, what happens next. Touya sits back fully, your legs falling from his shoulders. He looks off to the side, the sight of him something else with the blood now mostly dried, chains stained as well as his exposed chest.

He calls out, “Shigaraki.” The blue-haired boy looks up, scrunching up his brows.

“What?” He asks, annoyance evident in his tone. Touya smirks.

“Come over here.” Shigaraki rolls his eyes.

Touya repeats himself, “Come here.” Shigaraki groans, dropping his phone onto the chair as he rises from it and comes to stand off to the side of the bed.

Your eyes are glued to Touya raising the fingers that were just inside of you to Shigaraki.

Touya stares at the boy beside him as he says, “Taste her. She’s as good as she looks.” Shigaraki’s red like the blood staining your body’s eyes flick between you and Touya’s soaked fingers before leans down and takes them in his mouth.

Your eyes widen. You never would have thought in a million years that you would see Shigaraki sucking Touya’s fingers, let alone sucking your juices off of Touya’s fingers. The blue-haired boy pulls back and shrugs.

“A bit sweet,” is all he has to say about you.

Touya chuckles, “You know, Shigs, if you’d ever tasted a woman before then you would know the difference between what tastes good and what doesn’t.”

Shigaraki narrows his eyes at his friend. It’s not a secret among his friend group that he’s not… particularly experienced. And he seems to like it that way. Doesn’t mean though that they don’t give him shit for it whenever possible.

“I don’t need to.” This only makes Touya laugh more.

“Sure sure, Shigs. Why don’t you get back to your game or whatever?” Touya throws his head back now in laughter. But, the blue-haired boy just stands there, staring at Touya. It’s clear that he’s teetering on the edge of retreating into nonchalance and… and something else. You sit up, biting your lip.

“Touya,” you say. Your arms are covering your chest, trying to preserve what little of your dignity you have left in Shigaraku’s presence.

Touya rolls his head to the side, looking at you before rolling his head to the other side and looking up at Shigaraki.

“What? You wanna have a go? Think I’d share my girl with you?” Touya’s smiling, eyes almost closed from how wide his grin is.

Shigaraki grumbles, “Of course not.” He steps back and starts to walk back to his spot when Touya half gets up, one of his legs on the floor, the other still beneath his body. His fingers grasp Shigaraki’s forearm.

“I’m just fucking with you jeez, Shigs. Come here.”

Now you’ve got goggle eyes like a dead fish. Did you hear that quite right? Did that-does he mean?

Shigaraki shakes Touya’s hand off, turning back around to look at the both of you. Touya looks back at you. He settles back down on the bed, leaning over to you and pushing you down. Your hands are on his chest.

“Touya.” Your voice has jumped an octave or two.

“Touya,” you say with more urgency.

He sighs, “Shh, babe.” Your back is pressed into the soft blankets again.

“You don’t mind if he joins us, do you?” You let out a little whine, drawing your bottom lip between your teeth. The pink-red flesh slips, its fullness rounding out perfectly. Touya traces it with his thumb slowly. Sexily.

“Touyaaa,” you whine again.

He shakes his head before reassuring you, “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll be right here.”

You could feel your heart fluttering, stuttering. Your cheeks set aflame. You just didn’t think that this would ever actually happen. Even the thought of… of Shigaraki seeing you in this way and Touya allowing it never-never crossed your mind. You felt so unprepared. You press your fingers harder into Touya’s solid black and red-stained skin. You nod.

“Okay just, just please… Take care of me.” Your eyes look so round, your lips so plump, so delicate, in Touya’s piercing eyes. He gives you a gentle peck before leaning back and hopping off the bed. He claps a hand on Shigaraki’s back, giving him a final word of advice.

“She’s all yours now. Just be careful, yea? ‘Lax on the teeth.” You gulp as Touya laughs. Shigaraki rolls his eyes.

“Whatever.”

He kneels down on the bed, shifting to take Touya’s place. You place your legs on either side of him, nibbling on your lips nervously. Your gaze flickers up to Touya, giving him pleading eyes, as he stands back. His arms are crossed over his chest, a sadistic smile on his lips. You look back to Shigaraki. He seems… confused. He slowly wraps his cold hands around the underside of your thighs, pushing them closer to you so he can get a better look at you. You feel nervous, sweat beginning to bead down your back. You feel so bare under Shigaraki’s careful eye because you are. And you hope that he has an idea of what to do in the position he’s in.

He meets your eyes for a long moment, staring into them with such intensity you have yet to see. It was almost as if he was getting ready to prove you wrong. To prove Touya wrong about what he could do to a woman and how he could make her feel. He breaks the stare, licking his chapped lips hungrily as he moves one of his hands closer to your heat. You can feel his fingertips lightly ghosting over your clit and folds. Enough to send shivers (good ones thankfully) throughout your entire body. You suck in a breath. Fierce eyes flicker, watching your reaction. He does the movement again, dragging his fingers through your folds firmer this time. This earns a small moan from you.

You know for a fact that you are soaked down there, so it comes as a surprise when he spits on your pussy. He uses his fingers to spread the saliva, massaging it into your tender, soft skin. Your breathing is hitching. At last, he brings his face down. You feel his nose graze your clit as his warm tongue licks from your hole up to it. Your breathing catches. He keeps going, slow and steady. He listens to how you react when he applies pressure in certain spots, soon picking up on how much you enjoy it when he stimulates your clit. His thumb grazes over your hood and he takes the sensitive bundle of nerves into his mouth.

You moan as he sucks on it, his tongue swirling over and around it. He continues and you feel his teeth graze your clit. The sensation has you pressing yourself up on your elbows, your hand coming to his cheek and pulling his head back. He looks up at you, a line of spit connecting your soaking pussy and his lips. You shake your head.

“No teeth, at all, okay?” He hums in response before sitting up. He gives you this look. It’s almost like a warning. To be cautious. You tilt your head to the side, confused.

Cool fingers grab your searing hips and pull you forward so that your ass is pressed against his clothed chest, thighs on his shoulders. You moan, arching your back as you feel his tongue slip into your hole. He explores you, the way you taste. You’re like putty in his mouth the way you seem to soften and slip.

You let him hold you, and then he flicks his tongue and you’re pressing your hips up again as your back arcs. For the next few, you go from looking up at white ceiling to squeezing your eyes closed, looking at Shiggy and then looking at Touya. You can barely focus on the glint in your partner’s eyes. The way he likes seeing you so merciful and shameless. He’s glad Shigaraki actually has some idea of what he’s doing (as if) and if he doesn’t, then you’ll take charge.

From the sounds of your filthy mewls, Touya knows you’re getting close and he doesn’t want to miss a moment of your climax.

“Shigs,” he says, voice low. The blue-haired boy stops his ministrations. His unruly hair falls back as he looks up, licking his now soaked lips.

“Save me some, will you?” Shigaraki smirks.

“You can have her back now.” He looks down at his work — you breathless and dazed, saliva and slick running down your tummy and ass — satisfied. He gently sets you back down on the bed, tongue on your body from your pussy, up and over your stomach and through your breasts, up your neck to the soft skin beneath your ear where he nips. Your arms wrap around the back of his neck and for the first time, your faces come close. You’re looking up at him with lustful, lazy eyes while he’s looking at you with a cocky smirk on his lips. He leans down, closing the gap between you and gives you a tender, slow kiss. His first kiss.

You moan into his mouth, tasting yourself all over his tongue that glides against yours. His arms are wrapped around your upper back, pulling you deeper into him. It’s only when Touya clears his throat that Shigaraki pulls away from you.

He says, “Actually, Shigs. I think we should share for the night. I bet [y/n] would like that, wouldn’t you doll?” You let out a strangled noise, more like a moan than a hum. Touya chuckles. Shigaraki’s forehead creases as he looks from Touya to you and back.

He sighs, “And waste my time?” An irritated noise comes from your throat on instinct.

“Shiggyyy,” you mewl. You have his attention at once.

“Am I really a waste of your time?” You sound much more hurt than you actually are at his words. Shiggy looks taken aback by your sudden emotional sensitivity.

“Yes.”

Touya’s hand grips his shoulder, pulling him back from you. He leans down as whispers but not really as you can still hear him in the blue-haired boy’s ear, “If a woman asks you if she’s a waste of your time, the answer is always ‘No’.” Touya’s voice quietens so you strain to hear it, “To her face, anyways.” Shigaraki looks unamused by his friend’s ‘helpful’ tip.

Touya pulls back now, speaking at his usual volume in his usual offhand manner, “Suit yourself though. I trust that if you don’t wanna be up ‘ere with us then you’ll be taking care of what’s downstairs.”

To think, a boy lie dead downstairs. And you were just bucking your hips like a bitch in heat and crying out for more. Disgusting. Unfortunately true.

At this, Shigaraki seems to liven up. He retorts, “I’d rather suck your dick than do your bidding.”

Touya laughs, “That can be arranged. What do you think, my pretty girl?” You shake your head, sitting up too.

“Only I get to do that,” you tease.

Touya says through his smirk, “You heard her. Now, get downstairs if you’re not gonna be of any use up ‘ere.”

Your boyfriend lets go of Shigaraki’s shoulder and comes closer to you. You grin as he pulls you into a rough kiss. His teeth bite into your lower lip, his tongue exercises dominance over yours. He leaves your lips, peppering kisses and bites on your chin and neck, just missing your wound. Once he pulls back, he grabs your hands and puts them on his chest, giving you the hint to take off his clothes. You comply, unbuttoning the only two buttoned-buttons on his shirt and pushing it back, helping him to pull it off. You remove his devil-horns headband, casting it to the side. Next, you go for his belt. You unbuckle it and look up, your [e/c] eyes meeting his blue ones. You raise your eyebrow, silently asking him how he wants you to do this. He catches your meaning as he’s caught it many a time before and slides off of the bed. He leans over to you and grips your forearms, helping to pull you off it.

You’re unsteady on your feet, falling into him from your awfully weak knees. He grins, placing his hands on your shoulders and gently pushing you down to your knees. All while, Shigaraki watches. He hasn’t moved an inch since Touya’s demand-request.

You untie Touya’s shoes and pull them off before unzipping his trousers and pulling them off too. You run your hands up and down his inked-pale legs, gripping his thighs before moving your hands to cup his erect cock. You can see and feel how hard it is through his bloodied trunks. You smirk as he groans into your touch. You apply pressure at the base before running your hand along his dick. “Don’t make me wait, love.” You giggle in response, hands in the waistband and his underwear down his legs and off.

You love the sight of him. So swollen and hard, precum leaking out of the tip. Touya’s eyes are on you, waiting for you to suck him off. You grasp his tip, thumb in his slit before spreading his precum down his shaft. You sloppily suck the tip, saliva dripping down the length of his cock. You can taste the salt of his precum and the metallic-ness of… of Denki’s blood. You pull your mouth off of him, licking your other palm and using two hands to jerk him off. You do so for a little, enjoying watching him get all worked up. He presses his hips forward, the look in his eyes begging you to just take him back in your warm mouth.

The outside breeze ruffles your loose curls and cools the saliva on his cock, causing him to suck in a breath. You give him what he wants. Your big eyes look up at him as you take his tip back into your mouth. You bob your head up and down, hollowing out your cheeks. One hand grips his base tightly while the other cups and fondles his balls. He’s groaning and panting hard at how good your mouth feels. And soon enough, he needs more.

You feel Touya’s fingers wrap around your locks, close to your roots. He steadies your head and rocks his hips, pumping his cock in and out of your mouth. Your hands hold his thighs as he fucks your dirty mouth. You can’t take your eyes off of him, and he can’t take his off of you. You moan into his cock and Touya stops thrusting, instead gripping the back of your head with his other hand and shoving his entire cock down your throat. His white hair tickles your nose as you gag around him, tears forming in the corners of your eyes. He likes it when you choke on his dick and cry for him.

He keeps you like that, thrusting his hips slightly back and forth so you deep-throat him. You’re gagging and crying, and you wouldn’t want it any other way. After a minute or two, he gives you the reprieve you deserve, pulling your head back so his cock falls from your mouth. He tilts your head back so his angel is looking up at him and wipes your tears away. You sniffle and grab his wrists with your small hands. You smile up at him. There’s no other man whose cock you would so willingly choke on but Touya’s.

“Good girl,” Touya mutters under his breath. He leans down, locking his hands under your shoulders and helping you up to your feet. Your bodies press into one another and you share another passionate kiss. Your height difference means that Touya’s cock springs against your lower tummy. You moan as his fingers pull at your hair. Your back arcs into him in response. He pulls away, spit dripping down your chin. He wipes it off with his palm, really noticing now how much enjoys seeing your mascara ruined and blood speckled and smeared on your face.

He turns to the side, bringing you with him. He looks over you, arms around you tight, at Shigaraki.

Touya teases, “Thought you didn’t wanna waste your time?” He raises an eyebrow and you giggle. You turn around, Touya’s arms wrapped below and over your breasts. You both look at the boy sitting on the edge of the bed. He huffs, looking away from you both.

“I hate you.” You giggle and lean back, looking up at Touya. He’s staring at Shigaraki. You bite your lip playfully and look back to the blue-haired boy. You tug at Touya’s arms and he releases you.

You walk over to Shigaraki. Seeing how he’s rather intent on ignoring you, you place a hand on his cheek and turn his head to face you. He stares up at you, lips pressed into a hard line once again.

You say quietly, “Shigaraki” He sighs. He reaches out to touch your shoulder but stops just short, hesitant. You gnaw on the side of your lower lip, curious and nervous about him. About what he wants.

You continue, “If you join Touya and I, you can touch me all you like. Is that something you want?” He shakes his head, smiling sadly.

“I hate touching.”

You nod, “I know. But…” You’re hesitant to outright ask him to join. You don’t want to pressure him into something he doesn’t want to do. And you’re already getting the hint that he’s feeling conflicted about the whole situation, regardless of what you or Touya want.

You step back, your hand falling from his cheek. But, he catches it. His red eyes meet yours as he raises your hand to his lips, gently kissing the back of it.

“Don’t bore me,” he says. He stands up, scarred fingers hooking beneath the hem of his loose black shirt and pulling it off. You smirk, looking at Touya. You wish you could wiggle your brows like Mina can. If you could, this would have been the moment for it.

The warm glow of the lamp illuminates his pale skin; shadows cast on his surprisingly taut muscles. Your hands go to his jeans, unbuttoning them. Before you can pull them off, he pulls you into another kiss. This one is much deeper and hungry than the last. This one causes slick to pour from your pussy. You can feel it trailing down your thighs from how hard you’re pressing them together. Sucking Touya’s cock definitely didn’t help in that department, and now Shigaraki’s lips on yours, his fingers gripping your flesh is sending you overboard.

…⊹₊⟡⋆…

You scream out as Touya thrusts into you roughly from behind. Your delicate hands grip Shigaraki’s pecs as you rock forward to their rhythm. You’re straddling him, cock pumping into your pussy as Touya’s does into your ass. You’re a moaning mess. Your back arcs with every movement. You’ve never felt so full before. The sensations familiar yet foreign, bringing you pleasure and pain in the stretch. You can feel Shigaraki’s red eyes on you, his stare intense. He’s watching how you fall further apart with every thrust in and draw out. How you can barely keep breath in your lungs. How you bite down on your lip over and over again. He reaches up and grabs both sides of your face, drawing you down and pulling you into a sloppy kiss.

You’re sent forward, squealing into Shigaraki’s mouth as Touya slaps the fat of your ass cheek. You break away from the kiss, head down as you shift further forward. Touya encourages you, his hand pushing your lower back down so that you lay against Shigaraki. Your head slips into his pale shoulder, light blue waves tickling your forehead resting on his collarbone. All of your moans and whines right below the boy’s ear.

Touya picks up the pace, fucking you harder and harder. Your arms wrap tight around Shigaraki’s neck as your mind goes blank, trying to comprehend the feelings, the buried desires, your boyfriend is setting alight in your body. You feel Shigaraki’s hand come to the back of your head, fingers threading into your now matted curls. His other arm wraps around your upper back, steadying you as he follows Touya’s lead, thrusting faster and deeper into you.

No longer can you feel the cool breeze filtering through the open window for all you can feel is the hot, slick, stick of your bodies pressed together. Your body begins to tremble, shoulders shaking as you feel wave after wave of pleasure crash throughout your body. Your moans have turned into whimpers and whines, mewls, shrieks. You feel yourself getting worked up with emotion. A familiar swell rises in your throat. And before you realise it, tears are streaming down your cheeks.

Shigaraki looks down at you, alarmed at hearing you begin to sob. The wetness of your tears and breath dampens his skin. He looks up at Touya who either hasn’t realised or remains unfazed.

He grunts out, “She’s crying.” Touya chuckles short, licking his lips.

“Good.” He wraps his inked hand around the front of your neck, pulling you back and leaning down so that his lips are by your ear.

“You like this, don’t you baby?” You whine out your agreement. Shifting your head slightly to catch his lips in a rough kiss. His teeth tear at your already bitten lower lip, the soft flesh swollen at this point. His tongue dominates yours in a dance, spit dripping, teeth gnashing. You can only moan into it. He pulls back, smirking at seeing how he’s fucked you into such a state.

You practically collapse onto Shigaraki’s chest, going back to holding him tight, trying to steady yourself in this moment.

You don’t have to try for long though as Touya abruptly stops, pulling out of you. Shigaraki is far more confused than you are, looking at his friend with furrowed brows. You’re just grateful for a minute of rest. A very short minute, might I add. Touya leans over you, picking you up and re-positioning you so that your legs rest on his shoulders, your back pressed to Shigaraki’s chest. You’re mewling as Touya eases Shiggy’s length into your ass, giving you a few seconds to adjust before he rams himself into your cunt. Your back arcs reflexively, your hands gripping your breasts. Touya wastes no more time, pounding into you as he was before.

You swear you’re seeing stars from the way this feels. You’re squealing with every squelching plunge of their cocks into you. You can’t stop crying, the pleasure far too overwhelming. You call out their names through tears, your voice shaking as much as you are. It was as though you were in heaven. But that couldn’t be right because the way your body was begging for more was so sinful. In this moment, you couldn’t care less whether this was right or wrong, holy or unholy. All you wanted was the sweet release coiling in the pit of your stomach.

“T-Touya! Touya.” He leans down, folding you, his hands pressing into the sheets beside Shigaraki’s head.

“What is it?” He says. His voice is gruff, rasping. You cross your ankles behind his head, your eyes staring into his. You try to tell him what you mean with your eyes. He’s usually very good at picking up on your non-verbal meaning. But sometimes, he likes making you say the things you would rather leave unsaid. Like right now.

“Come on, doll. Tell me,” he demands. He grits his teeth as you scream out at his particularly merciless thrust. Your eyes roll upwards, your head tipping back naturally. You’re rendered speechless, mentally begging Shigaraki to catch your meaning and speak for you. He doesn’t.

“Uh,” the boy groans. “Think she’s uh. Nearing her end?” Red eyes meet blue in an exchange of understanding. Touya grins wide at this revelation (that he totally didn’t pick up on before you even opened your mouth).

He teases you, hand wrapping around your neck, finger beneath your jaw. He pulls your head back forward, moaning as you look at him. He loves seeing you so fucked out.

“Is that what you were tryna say? You gonna cum for Shigs and I? Is that what you meant?” His fingers press into the sides of your neck, earning a yelp from you. You do your best to nod, lips slightly parted and pouty. But that’s not all you wanted to say.

Your voice comes out breathy and broken, “I want-want you t—” You throw your head back once again at the sensation of how deep the boys are in you. You swear your guts are gonna be re-arranged with how harshly they’re fucking you right now.

Touya raises his voice but you know he’s still playing with you. “What?! Spit it out already.” His hand shifts up your neck, fingers coming to grip your jaw. You swear he’s already bruised you there, fingertips pressing into all of the sore spots. You whimper.

“Touya. Calm down,” Shigaraki groans out. Touya’s gaze flickers up to him for a second before coming back to you. He’s smushing your cheeks together, waiting for your confession. Your fingers wrap around his wrist, body bouncing with each thrust.

You mewl, “You to cum-in me-please.”

He continues teasing you, saying, “Just me?”

“N-no,” you whine, choking out another sob. Touya licks his lips, looking past you to Shigaraki.

He teases, “You ‘ear that? She’s such a filthy slut, isn’t she?” He lets go of your chin, stroking your face from your forehead to your cheek with the back of his hand.

“Such a dirty girl with such a sweet face. You gonna be a good girl for us and take it?” You nod, a crying, pathetic mess.

Touya leans back, pushing the back of your thighs into your chest and holding your legs by your ankles in one hand, the other smacking your ass. He fucks you at a brutal pace. Shigaraki gladly matches it. You cry harder, head rolling to the side and eyes finding Shigaraki’s. His fingers thread back into your hair, gently pulling your head back and drawing you into another kiss.

He’s never really thought about how this would feel. How tight a woman could feel wrapped around his girth, drawing him in and squeezing around him. How she would look up at him, big doll eyes, and plead him to keep going. To keep pleasuring her. How she would taste. How she would sound. The foreign feelings that would rise in his body. Feelings he doesn’t know how to handle. What he does know is that he’s drunk on your lips, on every moan and whine you make, the taste of you, the scent of you. He can’t get enough of you just like this.

Once more, you pull away, head lolling to the back and side. You can feel your climax coming in hard and fast, knot tightening and tightening until it’s about to snap. So good it hurts. Shigaraki’s fingers are on your clit, making your fit of sobs and mewls even louder and erratic. You squeeze your eyes shut tight like you clench your walls around their cocks. You’re getting closer and closer. Any second now you’re going to burst.

And then, you do. When the pleasure hits, you scream. Sobbing and seeing the universe. You’ve never felt anything like this before. The sensations convulsing throughout your body are unlike any other. They take you to heights you’ve never been. They have you calling out the filthiest shit between tight teeth. You hear Touya and Shigaraki’s groans, their hot seed shooting ropes into you. Your back is arched so much that the top of your head touches the blue-haired boy’s chest. You feel so so so full of cock and and cum.

You’re shaking in fits as your orgasm begins leaving your body. Tears and sobs rack through you. Touya pulls out of you, seeing how you’re trembling. He leans over your body, hand cupping the back of your head and bringing your face to the crook of his neck. His other arm is wrapped around you, hand rubbing circles on your back.

He comforts you, “Shh shh, baby. You’re okay. You’re okay.” He holds you, soothing you and helping you to calm down. As he does so, Shigaraki pulls out of you, a whimper slipping from your lips. He shifts to the side, allowing Touya to manoeuvre you onto your side and lay down with you. Warm light catches on blue hair as Shigaraki grabs the bloodied blankets kicked off the bed. He drapes them over your bodies, arms wrapping around your lower tummy and head resting on the back of your shoulder.

Your cries have quietened down by now, the final shudders and sobs passing through your body. You feel so heavy, so exhausted. No thoughts in your mind, your breathing slows. You pay no attention to the cum dripping from your pussy and ass, smearing your thighs and dripping down onto the ruined bed sheets.

“Just go to sleep,” Shigaraki mutters into your skin. You mean to reply but don’t, letting the darkness and release swallow you whole, sending you into a deep, dreamless sleep.

…⊹₊⟡⋆…

You groan, the morning light filling your vision as you flutter your eyes open. Your surroundings come into focus. Black curtains open, bright sunlight illuminating a messy desk and black coat messily heaped into a corner on the wooden floorboards. You turn over, hoping to see Touya’s sleeping frame but unfortunately, he’s already gone. You must have slept in. Wasn’t his class at 9am? You squint, making out 09:36 on the digital alarm clock on his bedside table.

You sit up and get out of Touya’s bed. Quickly making it, throwing on one of his shirts, and then walking out into the hallway. You look heavenward, silently praying that you’re able to avoid everyone. And your prayers go unanswered. You yawn as you open the bathroom door, Shigaraki cursing you with his toothbrush in his mouth. You giggle and come over to the basin, giving him a quick peck on the cheek before grabbing your toothbrush and squeezing white paste onto it. He rolls his eyes at your gesture. You wet the brush with warm water and raise it to your mouth. As you brush your teeth, your eyes naturally gravitate to the freshly healed mark on your neck.

You remember how afraid you had been that night. How painful it was. How pleasurable. But now, it brought a smile to your face seeing Touya’s initials carved into your delicate skin for eternity. Shigaraki spits, rinsing his mouth and leaving you alone in the bathroom. You’re done pretty soon, rinsing your mouth and cleaning yourself up.

As you do so, you can’t stop smiling to yourself. It’s not like this is your first time sleeping over at your beloved’s place. But, there was something so spell-binding, so soul-gripping about slow, sensual sex and hot tea afterwards, especially since you were finally ready after the last time… and since his initials were engraved on your neck now. You have to stop yourself from moaning at the thought of last night.

You leave the bathroom, heading back to Touya’s room to get changed into something more suitable before going downstairs to the kitchen.

Himiko sits at the marble island bench, watching Jin fry scrambled eggs. You greet them both, grabbing a glass of water and plopping down on the stool next to Himiko. She leans over and gives you a warm hug before drawing back.

Jin tuts, “You two shouldn’t be so loud, you know.” You bite your lower lip and laugh nervously, looking down. “You heard?”

Himiko chimes in, “Hard not to. These walls are so thin!” You can feel the blush rising in your cheeks.

You defend yourself, “We were trying to keep it down, I swear. We didn’t keep you up, right?” Jin laughs, cracking two more eggs for you. Their goo drips and crackles as soon as they hit the pan.

“We’re just teasing you, [y/n]. Actually, it wasn’t too bad this time.” To say you were embarrassed was the understatement of the year. All you can manage is a stuttered, “O-oh.”

Himiko and Jin laugh at you. You look down at the marble. They don’t give it up, teasing you until Jin places three plates of scrambled eggs and avocado toast on the bench. You thank him and dig into your meal. It tastes so good! You moan in satisfaction, earning stares from the two blonds before they laugh at you even harder. Their joy is infectious.

After you finish your breakfast, you run back up the stairs and head into Touya’s room. You grab your phone, about to text him of your embarrassment, but you already see a message from him.

mafia boss: this little runt is pissing me off

mafia boss: [image attachment]

mafia boss: get rid of him for me?

You giggle to yourself, clicking on the image. You don’t need to look for long though, the drawn circle around half red-half white hair telling you all you need to know.

[dragestil]

the river dodder in october

[dawnstarranger]

Listen everyone has their own metric for what good writing is and isn’t but I’d be lying if I said it didn’t get me down a little to see one of my faves dragged through the mud by both haters and fans alike on a pretty much weekly basis

[randum-famdoms]

Can confirm being part of several problematic fandoms Changed Me for the better

i recommend being a fan of 1 problematic piece of media at least once in your life

[chuluoyi]

✎ a birthday to remember

- gojo satoru x reader

what is the so-called grand surprise does your husband prepare for your birthday?

genre: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—massive fluff, comfort, pregnant!reader, (cough) pregnant sex

note: hi peeps it's been ages since i last wrote gojo :') and love entries on that matter *sobs* but here it is... my birthday has passed too but here's to any of you whose birthday is near!

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

“Sensei— happy birthday!”

This year, your birthday happened to fall on a workday.

If it were up to you, you would have taken the day off. However, Satoru had been assigned to Osaka and wouldn’t be returning until weekend, so taking leave and staying at home would most likely make you feel lonely.

Not only that, with you entering the fifth month of pregnancy, you figured it was better to stay active. And by the end of the day—you didn’t regret coming in at all. The students were all so sweet, they even chimed in to get you a pretty maternity dress to wear. You couldn’t wait to tell Satoru about them tonight.

You skipped happily toward the parking lot, but right when you turned the corner, suddenly—

“Wifeeeey!”

“Oh my god!”

You let out a loud gasp and took a step back, taking in the view. A sea of colorful balloons, with a man in suit standing right in the middle of it—

Your husband. In flesh. You blinked once, twice— thrice.

“Satoru...?”

He poked his head out of the string of balloons, a beaming, million-dollar grin lit up his face at the sight of your shocked expression. “Wifeeey! Happy birthdaaaaay!”

Before you could even process his sudden appearance, he had you in a chokehold, engulfing you in a bear hug and nuzzling his face against yours with childlike enthusiasm, the faint scent of his cologne filling your senses.

“What are you doing here?!” you half-shrieked, the surprise spilling from your voice.

He pulled back, frowning dramatically. “Ehhh? You don’t want me to be back?”

“Yes—”

His eyes widened as if you’d just committed the gravest betrayal. “You big meanie!”

“No,” you quickly retracted, trying to hold back your own smile at how comically dejected he was. “I mean… aren’t you supposed to be back on Sunday?”

“Heh heh, nope! I lied~” Satoru chirped, his grin returning in full force. “It’s my wifey’s birthday—how could I not come back for you?”

In that moment, your heart fluttered. He was probably saying it for no reason, but the fact that he really did fly back from Osaka just to meet you for your birthday meant a lot to you.

His big, warm hand then gently caressed your visible baby bump, his grin widening when he got a kick. “Ah, right… Hello to you too, baby! Did I startle you too? Sorry~”

You rolled your eyes, retorting, “He is terrified.”

Satoru leaned in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper directed at your belly. “Don’t worry, baby. Papa’s here now, and he’s got balloons. That makes everything better, right?”

“...how long have you been standing here with these balloons?”

“Hmmm, not long. About an hour, maybe?”

“You shithead—why didn’t you just come inside?”

Satoru’s gasp of mock offense made you laugh despite yourself. “And ruin the surprise? My wifey deserves the full dramatic effect!”

Being Gojo Satoru’s wife certainly came with its fair share of patience-testing episodes, and sometimes you wanted to return him to Yaga for additional lessons of discipline.

But it was candid, over-the-top acts like this that reminded you just how lucky you were to have him.

Satoru brought you to a high-end restaurant for your birthday dinner before the two of you finally returned home.

And the moment you opened the door, you were greeted by countless balloons floating on the ceiling and the ground, the fairy lights illuminating the room in a cozy glow.

You were taken aback, mesmerized by the sight. “When did you even have the time to decorate the house?”

He grinned, looking far too pleased with himself. “I have many little helpers—”

“Don't tell me it's Ichiji and Nanami? Satoru, you—!”

“I promised Nanami I wouldn’t make him blow up balloons! Though I might have heard him grumble something about being above this…”

"You're unbelievable..." You let out a resigned sigh, yet still smiling as you stepped further into the living room, now bathed in the soft, golden glow.

Satoru observed you with a quiet smile. His pretty wife, and the small life within you. He adored you the most out of everyone else in this twisted world.

Click! Click!

"Huh?" You turned to him when you heard the distinct sound of a camera shutter.

Satoru was holding his phone, an amused glint in his eyes. “Just capturing the moment, you know. You, the lights, and baby. It's perfect.”

You giggled. “You really can’t help yourself, can you?”

He shrugged, that signature grin returning. “What can I say? You’re beautiful.”

Later, you'd find out that one of the photos would be his lock screen from now on. It would be the first thing he saw every time he unlocked his phone.

Satoru brought out the box he had prepared, handing it to you with a sly grin. “Look, sweets, before we go to bed, I have one more gift for you—and you have to wear it now.”

You arched an eyebrow, curiosity piqued, as you took the box from his hands. The moment you opened it and pulled out the contents, you froze.

“—?! Satoru!”

A scarlet lingerie set. The bra features intricate lace trim along the edges, and the matching panties are equally bold, with a sheer lace overlay. Your cheeks flushed as you glanced at Satoru, who was watching you with an winning grin, clearly pleased with his choice.

“What?” he challenged. “They'll suit you, c'mon.”

“You're absolutely shameless.”

“But you love me anyway~”

You let out a defeated sigh, glancing up at him, already realizing there was no way out of this now.

“You’re lucky I’ve hit my head somewhere and married you.”

. . .

He was right. It fit you perfectly.

The moment you got out of the bathroom, Satoru could feel himself getting hard already. You looked like a vision, the deep red seemed to highlight your every curve, turning you into an effortless seductress.

And not only that, you were adorable too— fiddling with your fingers and touching your rounded belly, barely hiding how self-conscious you were.

"Don't just stare at me..." you mumbled, glaring at him.

He reached out, gently brushing his fingers against your cheek, his touch tender despite the fire in his eyes. “You’re making it hard to look away, you know.”

His hands then trailed down, skimming the sides of your body, each touch lingering just long enough to make your breath hitch. It was almost as if he was unraveling you, piece by piece, and you weren’t sure whether to pull away or pull him closer.

And wait... was it just you or were the space between your legs indeed getting hotter and wetter?

As if reading your mind, suddenly two of his fingers touched your barely clad pussy, and you gasped. That's right— there is indeed a hole in this freaking lingerie!

"Are... we...?" you swallowed, your gaze meeting his.

"Can I?" he asked back, voice husky. His crystal clear eyes burning with lust as he assessed you— from your eyes, lips, and then the inviting sight of your cleavage.

Did you want this?

Of course you were. Your birthday was still far from over, and you missed him too.

In response, you pushed his already hovering fingers inside you, making you hold your breath. From that point on, Satoru knew what you wanted.

Without another word, he rubbed soft circles around your clit, and you let out an unabashed moan at the contact, clinging to his shoulders for support. "Ahh..."

He teased you for a while, before slowly entering his fingers into your throbbing folds, and you were close to collapsing if it weren't for his secure hold over you.

"You're so, so damn naughty..." he whispered lowly in your ear. It was taking everything he had not to lose it right then and there. He wanted you to be as comfortable as possible, but the sight of your writhing face and that baby bump was damn distracting and ignited the beast inside him.

He made you pregnant already, but there was just this primal desire— wanting to mark you more...

His fingers slowly pumped in and out of you, dragging them deep but just not deep enough—

"Please..." you scratched his back unwittingly, frustrated at his shirt that got in the way. "I-I... want... you..."

How sweet. Satoru relished in your titillating breaths and chuckled, vigorously continuing his dirty ministrations.

"Say it louder," he growled in your ears. "Can't hear you."

The bastard. You yanked his hair and made him catch your teary gaze. "I... want you..."

Sinful desire flared to life at your words. "Your wish is my command, missus."

Satoru suddenly pulled out his fingers—ignoring the whine you accidentally let out for being empty all of a sudden—and admired the sheen, sticky whiteness on them.

"I barely did anything and you're this wet already," he snorted, tasting it. "They're right about the pregnancy hormones."

He placed his hand on your waist, pressing a kiss on the firm skin of your belly, before undoing his belt and trousers and pulling out his hardened member.

The sight made you actually gulp, especially when he pumped it. He pulled you to his lap and guided his pride to your sopping entrance. The moment he inserted himself, he let out a groan of relief, while you arched your back and hissed, "Ngh!"

Satoru captured your lips, his hand pressing against your aching spine. He pulled you closer, urging you to take him completely.

"Ahh— ugh... mrgh!" you sighed against his neck as soon as you did, trying to even your breath. This was something you had done so many times before, but why was this time felt like an awakening of some sorts?

"Most beautiful," he breathed in your ear wickedly. "Don't worry, leave everything to me."

He rocked his hips against yours, one hand on your back and the other gripping your thigh. With each salacious thrust, you mewled and he panted, keeping you steady all the while.

He could feel your baby bump rubbing against as his toned abs, going along with the rhythm. Satoru grinned proudly, noticing how much it had grown over the past few months. The baby must be healthy in there, huh?

The relief somehow spurred him into pick up his pace, thrusting you more deeply than before. You almost squealed.

"You know what?" he grunted, mind hazed. He didn't really realize what he was saying to you, to be honest. "You're the prettiest when you're like this— round and full, with my kid."

You only caught the lewdness in his words, but you weren't able to ponder about it as he suddenly buried his face into your supple breasts.

"Look at them, getting bigger too— these days..." He sucked on the sensitive skin and you gasped in pleasure, crying out afterwards when he fondled them with both hands.

Your senses were overly heightened and you knew you wouldn't last long. Satoru too knew he was nearing his orgasm as he tore your new bra and sucked on the mound, furthering your never-ending moans, causing your eyes to roll back as the blinding pleasure overtook you— pushing you to cum right then and there.

In the next second, he pushed you into him impossibly deeper, and his hot release gushed inside your womb. You writhed at the sudden fullness, before getting limp and collapsed into him, not even realizing that you had squirted all over his lap and dress shirt.

Your husband glanced at you, in disbelief himself at the messy scene, but utterly satisfied as his bright eyes twinkled. "Heh..."

You were awoken at three in the morning, and the first thing you noticed was that you were in Satoru's warm embrace.

His arms were wrapped around you securely, holding you close as if he were protecting you even in his sleep. You must have passed out afterwards, as all you recalled was the numbing exhaustion.

Yet you knew for certain that Satoru had cleaned you up, dressed you in your pajamas, and even placed a heat pad on your hips to soothe you.

(He remembered the one time you woke up with cramps right after a raunchy night before)

Your husband was a cheeky shit, but for you, he was willing to go extra miles. It was an overlooked fact sometimes due to how unserious he was, but each time he did and you were reminded of it, your heart always soared.

Looking up, you found his peaceful sleeping face, and not for the first time, you couldn’t help but marvel at how truly handsome he was. A soft smile tugged at your lips as you gently caressed his face.

"Hmm...?" he frowned adorably, and you almost giggled. But when he cracked his eyes open, you almost regretted it—oh yes, he is a light sleeper.

"Sweets...? Can't sleep...?" He turned to you, voice thick with sleepiness. "Anything wrong?"

"No, I'm just watching you." You smiled, poking his cheek. "Go back to sleep."

"Really? Nothing's amiss?" His hand gently slid to your belly, giving it a reassuring rub. "You have to tell me if anything’s not right..."

"Hush, I'm fine."

After making sure you were indeed fine, Satoru tightened his arms over you and pressed his eyes shut. You wrapped your arms around his back in response, feeling his steady warmth. Right in this moment, you were overwhelmed with this gentle, soft feeling— love, the kind he gave you so freely and candidly.

Your birthday had passed, but if there was one wish only he could fulfill, surely you could still ask him, right?

"Satoru..." you muttered, feeling the cool breeze of the air conditioner lulling you back to sleep. "Will you stay with me... forever?"

A smile curled on his lips at your question, his eyes still closed. "Silly girl, it's your bedtime, so why ask that?"

You thought he wouldn't answer it as he didn't say anything more. But right before you drift into deep sleep, he pressed a sweet kiss to the crown of your head, giving you his promise— one that felt truer than anything else he had said to you before.

"I will... so you must stay with me too, got it?"

[hurlingdown]

MONSTERFUCKING — ft. monster! reader, human! character, heavy dub-con, oviposition (eggs), mpreg, aphrodisiacs, degradation, belly bulge, loss of virginity, and all that lovely shit. ♡

It was foolish of him to wander into unknown territory. 

You could still clearly recall just how beautiful he looked, trembling at the mouth of your lair. You could smell it—he was pristine, and evidently untouched. A virgin. 

He had sworn he would slay you and bring your head home to his village, bloodthirsty and terrifying and claiming this and that before he fell to his knees under the effects of the aphrodisiac, begging you to fill him up with your seed. 

And now look where he was. 

“So fucking wet,” you crooned lowly, slobbering all over his chest, forked tongue swirling around a nipple as you pushed the fat bulb of your cockhead into him. “Gonna stuff you, ooh, make you carry allll of my eggs.” 

“P-please,” he implored, delirious with pleasure, cum dribbling out of his cock in small spurts. It hadn’t even been a minute, and there he was, twitching and broken, just from being stretched out. “‘S too much, please, it won’t, won’t fit!” 

How cute. It only made you hungry for more. 

“Then we will just, have to make it fit, yes?” With that, you roughly jerked your hips forward, slamming the rest of your cock into his tight little hole. He let out a squeal, back arching as he gasped for breath. 

“Oh, fuck!” he sobbed loudly, writhing as shaky hands found their way onto your horns, gripping tight. He was clenching around you so tightly, your cock resting so deep inside him he could almost feel it in his throat. “You’re gonna break me…!” 

“Is that not what we are doing?" you sneered, tongue slithering into his ear, making him shudder. "Hah. You came here… ‘cause you wanted this, yes? Wanted to get fucked by a monster.” 

“That’s n-not true… I’m here to slay you!” 

Clawed hands grabbed at his parted thighs, and lifted him up carefully and gently, switching up the angle so you could now fuck him into the nest. He shivered as your claws grazed sensitive flesh, letting out a pitiful whine. 

“You just looove to lie, don’cha. So stubborn! Hehe, d’you go around fucking other monsters, too? Ooh, aren’t you a lil’ slut? My pretty lil’ slut?” 

"No! Haah, 'm not, not your slut..."

He shook his head wildly, letting out small sobs as you drove your cock into him with little restraint, treating him like how a child would play with his new toy. Savage and ruthless and obsessive, conveyed in every powerful thrust of your hips, the thwop thwop thwop of slippery skin against the plush fat of his bruised ass resounding in the lair. 

It was humiliating. And yet it felt so good.

“You are so pretty. Mine. My mate,” you chanted, and for a second he thought he saw hearts dancing in your eyes. “Gonna make you all mine, you'll never think about fucking another monster again…” 

You manhandled him onto his stomach with ease, suddenly pushing back in, and he wailed, bursting with fullness. “Yeah, that’s right. Oh, I’m gonna cuuum. Gonna cum so hard in your perrrfect lil’ hole. Fill you up with my eggs, make you the prettiest mate ever. How’s that sound, my sweet?” 

“Please! D-don’t!” he mewled as the base of your cock began to thicken, swelling with knot. “Please, I’ll do anything, I can’t, can’t get pregnant…” 

“Don’t worry,” you purred, your tongue wrapping around his neck as you pushed impossibly deep inside him to let the knot catch. “I'll take goood care of you. You will be safe here in our nest, with our eggs… and with me!” 

“It’s hard to believe that when—when you’re the danger h-here!” 

He keened, shuddering and wailing as your knot began to ever-thicken and expand, impaling him on your cock. A strange, slippery sensation began to fill him, and for a moment he thought that you were simply cumming inside. You shifted above him, grunting loud as you pushed the first egg into him, the action making him gasp, eyes widening. 

“What…” he panted, “What’s happening?” 

“Told ya I was gon’ fill you up,” you slurred, pressing your chest against his back and stroking his belly in contentment. “Ooh, hnngh, there’s another—” 

You let out a groan as the second egg pushed past the gaping rim of your cockhead and into his soft, velvety womb. He was shivering all over, letting out soft whimpers as his cock gave another weak spurt at the feeling of being stuffed. 

“No, no, please, stop…” 

He let out shaky whines as you pushed egg after egg into him, tummy feeling bloated and heavy. It was too much, and it didn’t seem like you were going to stop anytime soon. Soon, spots were dancing in his vision, and he slumped bonelessly into the nest, letting exhaustion overtake him. 

He stirred awake to the soft rumbling of a warm body behind him. Your knot had gone soft, warm cum leaking out of his puffy, used hole. The only physical barrier between him and the exit was your clawed hand, placed protectively on his bulging belly. 

Lifting your hand, he rubbed over his stomach, gasping when he felt the outline of multiple egg-shaped objects. You really had gone and impregnated him, didn’t you?

Sighing, he closed his eyes again. Escaping could wait. For now, being surrounded by the warmth of the nest and the fullness of his eggs would do.  masterlist!

[sanatomis]

cw. none except satoru being disgustingly cute (part 2)

satoru isn’t used to people calling him anything other than his surname. gojo-san to most, gojo-sensei to others. it’s simple, and gets the job done.

only a handful of people stick to calling him by his given name. to them, he’s satoru. it’s easy, and rolls of the tongue, and he greatly prefers it over the sound of his surname. it makes him feel like an actual person.

satoru never entertained the possibility of being called anything else other than those two names. he didn’t think it would ever happen.

for once, he was glad to be proven wrong.

“tough day, pretty?” you ask gently, and he sighs with a nod as he throws himself into your opened arms. his body moulds easily into yours, and he lets out a heavy groan as he settles onto the couch with you. the groan is loud, and over-exaggerated.

it’s so satoru.

you have to stifle a giggle.

“everything went horribly wrong,” he grumbles, his voice muffled against the fabric of your shirt. “the higher ups were up my ass again, my students laughed at me again, and when i finally made it to that bakery you liked they were out of your favourite pastries so i couldn’t get them for you—again!”

“oh, my poor baby,” you coo, and gently push his bangs out of his face. he nods in agreement, faking an immense amount of sympathy for himself. “‘s okay, at least you tried, hm? i think that’s very sweet.”

satoru hums, as if he’s deeply thinking about your words. “’m still your baby?” he mumbles, deciding that’s the most important thing right now. his eyes briefly flutter shut, consumed by utter bliss as you play with the hairs on his undercut.

“mhm, still my baby.”

“yeah? what else am i?”

this time you do giggle. he does this sometimes. you aren’t exactly sure why—but on tough days, satoru likes to crawl into your arms and listen to you call him every cheesy nickname under the sun. it’s easily providable and makes him so very happy, so you always indulge him.

“my honey bun.”

“and?”

“my boo bear.”

“mhm.”

“my sweetheart.”

“yes?”

you laugh softly. “my mochi,” you coo, and pinch his cheek. it’s a little squished because he’s laying on your chest, but it emphasises your point.

he grins under your touch. it’s adorable.

“keep them coming, please?” he asks, and you do. you always do, unable to refuse him. especially when he asks so sweetly.

“my sugar cookie.”

“my muffin.”

“my baby cakes.”

“my angel.”

“my love.”

“my husband.”

“h—huh?” satoru stammers, looking up from your chest. he lays his chin on your sternum, baby blue eyes blinking up at you. they’re filled with awe, surprise, and utter glee. “that’s, i’m not. . .”

“just testing the title, baby,” you tell him, and continue playing with his hair. he bathes in your touch and you smile softly as he grabs and kisses the palm of your hand. “what do you think, hm?”

“i think you should call me it again.”

“oh?”

“mhm,” he mumbles.

“my dearest husband.”

“again.”

“my handsome husband.”

“again.”

“my sweet husband.”

“again, please?”

you hum, impressed. “my well-mannered husband.”

satoru chuckles, and lays back down on your chest. his white hair tickles against your skin, and he sighs in content.

“i think i want to be your husband for real.”

“yeah?”

“yeah,” he mumbles and nuzzles further into your hold. “y’ve got the same ring size still, right?”

“i sure do,” you say, a content smile on your lips as you watch him slowly doze off to sleep.

“hm, good to know.”

for satoru, those nicknames make him feel as if he’s something even greater than a person—it makes him feel yours.

he’s not just gojo, the strongest. he’s not just satoru, the at-times somewhat immature adult with the sweet tooth of a child.

he’s yours. your baby. your honey bun. your boo bear. your mochi. your boyfriend. your love. and for satoru, there’s no greater thing in the world than that.

[reversetimelord]

The takeaway should absolutely be “this guy fucking sucks and shows that trans men can also perpetuate misogyny, transmisogyny and transphobia in general (he also displayed bigotry against transmascs whilst trying to present himself as One Of The Good Guys™️); it’s deeply important to fucking check yourself and not fall into bigotry against your own community as well as others”, not “transmen™️ are all like this, they don’t really experience oppression and transfemmes should stay away from them” as some people seem to be taking it (not OP, her advice is solid)

to the trans girls saying "this would work on me" about that trans guy's guide to fumbling a tgirl, please develop some more self respect, don't let yourself get used by guys like that

[osaemu]

GOJO SATORU: HUNGRY FOR MORE

✩ ‧ ˚. serial killer!gojo x detective!reader: fucking the serial killer you're supposed to be arresting might be the best (or worst) decision you've ever made. PART 2 | NSFW

contents: fem!reader. porn with plot, dubcon, public sex (in an alley), p –> v, orgasm denial, fingering, he cums inside, unprotected sex, degradation, praise, lil' bit of dumbification, hair pulling, squirting, dirty talk, manipulation/coercion, mentions of murder (he's a serial killer what did u expect), non-sexual mentions/usage of guns, probably more. 3K words.

author's note: wrote this instead of writing my research paper and studying for my math final. if this flops i will actually become the serial killer /j. anywaysss tagging @satoruhour @screampied @satorena.. and yes, the "season 2 coming soon" in the banner means something ;)

“looks like your little killing spree’s gonna have to come to an end,” you muse, crossing your arms and cocking an eyebrow at the man across from you. he grins back at you, and it’s almost unsettling—he looks a little too smug for a killer who’s just been caught.

“i don’t think so, sweetheart,” the man responds dryly, leaning back against the alley wall, features relaxed and at ease. he—satoru gojo—has been your target for a couple weeks, and now that you’ve finally cornered him, you find yourself feeling a little… unfulfilled. usually, when you caught criminals, they begged for mercy and showed a little more emotion than what satoru’s shown so far. 

also, the criminals usually weren’t this good-looking.

you maintain eye contact with satoru while you carefully reach into your coat’s pocket, withdrawing your phone and unlocking it. unexpectedly, satoru doesn’t make any move to stop you from dialing the number to your boss, instead smiling coyly as you do so.

“so, you’re one of those guys who don’t care what happens to them?” you ask, tilting your head as you hold the phone to your ear. satoru shrugs and his grin only widens the longer your phone rings. ten seconds pass before your phone tells you that the number you dialed is currently busy, and satoru’s muffled laughter becomes unbearably suspicious. you narrow your eyes and involuntarily take a step back. “what’s with the smile?”

satoru scoffs and dips his head, pushing himself off the wall and taking a step towards you. “y’know, you’re rather brave, comin’ out to catch a serial killer all by yourself. and in the middle of the night, too.” he stops advancing when he sees you pull a gun out of your pocket and hold it up threateningly, a look of warning in your eyes. “okay, okay, relax. i’m not gonna do anything to your pretty face.”

“what did you do?” you ask suspiciously. satoru widens his eyes in mock disbelief, as if he’s completely and utterly shocked that you’d ever accuse him of anything.

“besides the fifteen separate counts of murder? not much, really.”

“i’m not an idiot,” you snap, cocking the gun and aiming it at his head. “you’re not the one in control here, satoru gojo. spit it out before i put a bullet through your skull.”

satoru laughs and holds his hands up in surrender. “fiesty, aren’t we? it’s alright, i like my girls with a little fire in them.” he tilts his head to the side and looks you up and down, eyes lingering on parts of you that suddenly make you feel naked, despite the coat covering most of your figure. “put down the gun, sweetheart, then we can talk.”

you wait a second, scanning satoru’s overly relaxed face before cautiously lowering the gun. “what are you hiding?” you ask again, eyes hardening.

“a lot of things. but i think you’re talking about what i did to your boss, right?”

“you have five seconds before i shoot you.”

satoru makes a face and then rolls his eyes dramatically. “fine, since you’re bein’ so pushy about it. i killed him, obviously. you’re a smart girl, shouldn’t you have figured that out by now?” when you don’t immediately answer, satoru sighs and shakes his head. “and here i thought that the girl who’d been tailing me for the past week would have a little sense in that pretty head of hers. looks like i was wrong.”

“shut it,” you snap again, re-dialing the number and letting your phone ring for fifteen seconds. when nobody picks up, you internally curse and think about what to do next. dialing 911 would be worth a try, but the look in satoru’s ice-blue eyes makes you think otherwise. despite the gun in your hand, something about him makes you entirely certain that he could overpower you, even if you landed a shot on him. and even if you just shot him right now, he’s been shown in the past to be able to function fine with a bullet through his chest. that’s how two of your subordinates lost their lives to him—by underestimating your city’s notorious killer.

so you decide to bide your time.

“ran out of options?” satoru asks smugly. he raises an eyebrow when you slide your phone back into your pocket and exhales a laugh. “you gonna wait for a big, strong man to rescue you? ‘cause i’m right here, honey, and i could be your savior.”

“that was actually the shittiest line i’ve ever heard,” you scoff, rolling your eyes at the self-satisfied look on his face. “are you seriously proud of that one?”

“well, it worked.”

he pushes himself off the alley wall and towards you so fast that you hardly even have time to process it, and before you know it, you’re the one pressed to a wall with a gun to the side of your head. satoru’s other hand grabs both your wrists and pins them above your head, and his face is close enough to the point where you can feel his breath—which is unexpectedly minty—on your cheeks as he grins down at you. “you really think i’d use a line as shitty as that if i didn’t know it’d make you lower your guard? tch, you really shoulda known better.”

you use every curse word you’ve ever heard in that moment and grit your teeth, rapidly thinking through all the possible ways you could get out of this situation, but nothing comes to mind. you’re quite literally stuck in between a rock and a hard place, with a gun pressed to your head and with your limbs out of commission. 

satoru clicks his tongue and widens his eyes at you, leaning in closer. his lips are uncomfortably close to your own as he traces the gun down the side of your face, cold metal brushing against your heated skin. “not gonna fight back? that’s no fun.”

“the fuck you want me to do?” you snap irritably, glaring up at him and curling your hands into fists. satoru tightens his grip on your wrists and cooes a sarcastic apology to you, taking his time looking you up and down again. if you didn’t value your life, you probably would’ve said worse, but seeing as you were the only person in this ridiculously isolated alley, it wouldn’t be worth much. 

“i dunno. didn’t that detective academy or whatever teach you anything?”

you roll your eyes again, and somewhere in the back of your mind, you consider the possibility of your eyes getting permanently stuck in the back of your head just because of him. “y’know, you’re not giving me a whole lot of options.”

satoru laughs. “if i did, that’d defeat the whole purpose, wouldn’t it?”

at this point, death would be preferable to hearing his idiot talk any longer.

“so, i’m gonna be the one asking the questions from now on,” satoru continues, clicking his tongue disapprovingly when you scowl. “if you behave, i won’t hurt you that badly, ‘kay? keep that in mind.”

“thought you liked your girls feisty.”

“oh, that’s true,” satoru muses thoughtfully. “yeah, never mind, you can be a little bratty. i need a reason to fuck you stupid anyways,” he grins after a moment of consideration.

“what the fuck?”

“you heard me, sweetheart,” satoru cooes, feeling his pants tighten as he watches your eyes widen. your “tough” demeanor drops for a split second, and satoru can’t help but want to fuck it off again when it returns. your scowl deepens and you frantically think through all your options again, but there isn’t a whole lot you can do at this point.

“if you wanna stay alive, you’ll be a good girl and you won’t scream,” satoru murmurs, leaning in closer and pressing his lips to yours. you grit your teeth and try to shove him away with your shoulder, but it doesn’t do much. satoru smiles against your lips and hums softly, pulling away with an almost affectionate look on his face. it’s so at odds with who he is and what he’s done that you drop your guard again, wanting to believe that he really will keep his promise not to hurt you.

satoru sees the shift in your features and smiles tenderly, all traces of his borderline-sadistic look gone. he studies your face for a moment and kisses the corner of your mouth, letting his lips linger for a second before he pulls away again. “i’m gonna let your hands go now, m’kay?” when he drops your wrists, they fall limply on his shoulders as you warily study him, eyes wide with confusion. it’s jarring, the way he just… changed personalities within the span of a couple seconds. “i’m not gonna hurt you, pretty,” he breathes, dropping the gun and letting it fall to the floor with a loud thwak. “this’ll be a lot more fun for me if you don’t resist, yeah?”

oh, fuck it.

“okay,” you murmur, ignoring every siren going off in your head. you don’t really have any other options, and honestly, nobody was going to walk by and get you out of this sticky situation anytime soon. and satoru was pretty attractive… and you could just arrest him afterwards, right?

as if he read your mind, satoru smiles and promises, “you can handcuff me after i’m done with you. just let me have a little fun one last time, baby.”

yeah, it’d be a stupid decision to believe the sweet-talker towering over you. there’s no way he’s just going to let you drag him off to jail, but there’s a reason he’s stayed out of the grasp of the law for so long. it’s hard to live a life as on-the-edge as being a serial killer, but the reason satoru’s survived for this long is because he knows how to use his words. he knows how to make a person go against every warning in their head, and he knows how to get what he wants.

which, for tonight, includes you.

“you have thirty—no, twenty minutes,” you mumble, knowing damn well that this would be the end of your career as a detective. whether or not you dragged satoru in after all this, you could never continue your work knowing you had sex with the biggest serial killer in the city.

satoru laughs and kisses you again, lips trailing down your face and settling on your neck. “haven’t i already made it clear that i’m the one in control here?” he muses as he slips his hands under your coat and tugs it off. it falls to the cold ground and bunches up around your feet, leaving you in a button-up shirt and flowy, dark pants. “c’mon, let’s get these clothes off you.”

within a minute, the rest of your clothes save for a black lacy pair of undergarments join your coat on the floor, and the chilly nighttime air nips at your skin. “i’m cold,” you mumble, feeling yourself involuntarily tense up everywhere but where satoru’s hands cloak your skin. satoru laughs in response and presses his knee to the spot in between your thighs, and something in you snaps at the point of contact. 

“you really are an idiot, aren’t ya,” satoru scoffs, hand sliding down to your waist. his fingers latch on the waistband of your panties and he tugs them down, exposing your already-wet pussy to the cold evening air and his eyes. “lettin’ a serial killer fuck you in a dark alley… what kind of detective does that?” satoru spits on two of his fingers and slips them inside you, instantly groaning when he feels you clench around him. “fuck, you gotta be the tightest pussy i’ve felt in a while,” he mutters, white hair falling into his eyes as he looks down shamelessly. “do you not have sex with other guys?”

“don’t have time,” you swallow what would’ve been an embarrassingly loud moan as his fingers go deeper and deeper. how long are this man’s fucking fingers?

“aw, look at you, you’re so cute,” satoru cooes, smiling down at your scrunched up face. you look back at him through squinted eyes, hips starting to roll against his fingers. it’s true—you really haven’t had time to have sex given your already-insane schedule. it’s almost like you spent more time tracking the man who’s now knuckle-deep inside you than sleeping, but the slutty part of your head tells you that it paid off.

“‘m gonna cum,” you whine pitifully, squirming around satoru’s fingers as he curls them inwards, making you clench around him even tighter. a shiver runs over your body, starting from in between your thighs and spreading all over you as satoru’s fingers move back and forth inside your soaking wet cunt. “g-gojo—”

“call me satoru, baby, and you’re not cumming until i say you can.” with that, satoru withdraws his fingers from your pussy with a pop! and grins at the way you glare at him sullenly. he mockingly pouts and licks his drenched fingers clean, tongue lapping up your essence. “heh, don’t worry, i’ll make you cum more than you knew you could once you’re stuffed with my cock.”

although you’ve determined satoru’s “promises” to be dubious at best, he fufills this one after he’s spread your legs wide open and positioned his cock at your entrance. “this might hurt, baby, but remember, no screaming.” after you nod in acknowledgement, satoru slips his tip in and watches, amused, as you try to close your legs on reflex. “uh uh, keep ‘em nice and wide f’me,” satoru tuts disapprovingly.

and true to his word, it hurts—a dull ache spreads throughout your legs as his dick goes farther and farther inside you, reaching places you hadn’t felt in a long time. satoru’s hands settle somewhere on your waist as he pushes himself deeper, ignoring your gasps and pleas for him to slow down a little. your shaky hands move to his hair and you unwittingly pull on it, somehow eliciting a soft groan from satoru’s lips, and somewhere in the back of your mind you think that of course a serial killer has a hair pulling kink—it just makes sense. 

“s-satoru, it won’t fit,” you whisper, feeling satoru hit an especially tight spot in your cunt. even with how wet you are, it just feels like you can’t possibly take any more of him—he might as well be ten feet inside you, given the pain in your hips. but, as expected, satoru only smiles tauntingly down at you and murmurs words of encouragement as he somehow pushes past the barrier and gets all the way in amid your pained whimpers.

“yeah, that’s it, knew you could do it,” satoru says sweetly, voice coated with poisonous honey. now that he’s all the way in, the ache from your waist down starts to fade into pleasure, especially as satoru starts moving himself in and out to get you used to the feeling of his dick. “just like that, pretty girl. jus’ like that.”

soon enough, he sets an unexpectedly harsh pace that makes your back arch off the cold, brick wall behind you, and even as satoru tries to keep up his “cool serial killer” act, you can hear his quivering breaths as he gets close to cumming. “shit, i forgot how fuckin’ good it felt to fuck a cunt this tight—” he mutters through gritted teeth. “‘m gonna cum inside, ‘kay?”

you nod breathlessly, chasing your own pleasure and not actually listening to the words satoru murmurs in your ear. at this point, it didn’t matter—all your pathetic little head could think about was satoru’s dick, and somehow, you forget that he’s a killer when he cums inside you. it’s hot and thick and it almost knocks you over—when was the last time you felt this good, if ever?

the coil in your stomach snaps and you cum with him, nodding along to satoru’s praises on how well you’re taking him. you squirt all over his painfully hard dick and suck in a sharp breath as you do so, body trembling from the force of both of your orgasms.

“see, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” satoru murmurs when you both come down from your highs, stroking your hair almost tenderly. you bob your head in response, face warm and eyes unable to properly focus. he stuffs his fingers back inside your puffy cunt and scoops the cum dripping down your thighs back inside, mumbling something about not letting a single drop go to waste. “who knew the pretty detective i’d had my eye on would be this good to me?” he cooes, grinning snarkily.

satoru’s earlier promise floats through your head and you force yourself to look him in the eye. “y-you said you’d let me arrest you after,” you breathe, back still pressed to the wall as satoru surveys you amusedly.

“oh, sweetheart, you’re in no condition to be giving orders,” satoru says condescendingly, pulling up his pants and grinning at you. his cheeks are still flushed red, but whether that’s from the cold nighttime air or from the heated sex, you don’t quite know. “we should do this again sometime,” he continues conversationally as he picks up your coat for you. despite the fact that you’re still naked and trembling, satoru drapes your coat around your shoulders and helps you button it up.

“but you said—” you protest, but satoru cuts you off with a raised eyebrow.

“you didn’t seriously believe me, did you?” satoru tuts, shaking his head. “i’m a serial killer. i’m not gonna turn myself in just ‘cause of a detective’s pretty pussy, baby. you should’ve known better, doll.” satoru wraps an arm around your limp shoulders and tugs you in for a kiss, lips pressing firmly against your own for a couple seconds before he pulls away with a satisfied smile.

he leaves you with a promise to see you soon.

[lalunanymph]

꒰ nanami is forced to put his sweet wife back in her place (under him) ꒱

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ─── fem!reader, wife!reader, ceo!reader, lifestyle dom!nanami, househusband!nanami, brat taming, hair pulling, overstimulation, sir kink, restraints, finger gagging, nipple play, use of vibrators, chair bondage, reader gets spanked, fear of cheating, unprotected s[e]x, collaring, oral s[e]x, kento mentions divorce playfully, nanami slaps his c*ck on reader's face and tongue, degradation, pet names (baby, little slut, love, darling, good girl), aftercare

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ─── 5k+ words because of mappa’s horniness they made him so big and beefy what did you expect me to do

“Fuck, baby, that’s a good girl.”

Your husband’s scratchy moan is followed by a tug to your hair. He’s got your locks in his firm, veiny grip, using it to guide your mouth up and down his flushed cock like you were nothing but a human fleshlight made just for him.

The kitchen clock ticks and you’re on your knees, still in your office blazer and figure-hugging skirt.

It was usually customary for you to greet your husband like this—like he’s pure treasure and deserves your devotion on these marbled tiles.

They were the same ones you bought with your twelve-month bonus, right when the company you spearheaded burst into the tech scene and started raking in the billions.

Through it all, Nanami Kento was with you, building your home while you changed the world.

More than anything, he was the rock which kept you from falling apart.

But, if they could see you now… how your mouth was slicked with a mixture of cum and spit and your eyes were woozy with bliss, they couldn’t tell that you were the same woman who once fired three directors on account of an embezzlement accusation. 

He pulled you off his flushed tip, those chiselled cheeks dusted with pink. Reacting like this, he was nothing more than an enamoured husband adoring his wife on her knees. But, you had been bad to him today, and bad girls didn’t deserve what they wanted. They needed to be put back in their place. 

Nanami tugged you up higher, enough to have you balancing on the slivers of your shins. His mouth found yours, insistent and hot with his lustful intention.

“Do you want your collar, baby?” His mouth was a stroke away from yours, warm breath caressing your tongue.

You nodded, not trusting your voice to break. The planes of your husband’s defined chest shook in a soft laugh as he let go of your hair—for now.

“Go and grab it, sweetheart. I'll wait for you.”

You did as he said, standing up on shaky legs that were riddled with pins and needles. He steadied you, looking ridiculously handsome even with his half-chub out and tiny pink apron still on. Nanami was just a man who could make even a trash bag work.

You stumbled into the bedroom, going straight for a drawer that was shut tightly. Using the key next to your perfume stand, you unlocked it, removing a smooth, dark leather strap with the words ‘Kento’s girl’ embedded into it with diamonds.

You heard your husband come back into the room, his body pressed behind yours as he took the collar from your shaking hands. Pushing your hair aside, he fastened it around your neck with a kiss to your earlobe.

“Shall we go back to what we were doing earlier?”

You slid back into your knees in response, shuffling to face him again. Those dark eyes appraised you with pride, tinged with an even darker possession.

“Always so pretty for me,” he hummed. “Aren’t you, my little slut?”

A dirty thrill shot down your spine, and you parted your mouth open on instinct. “Yes, Sir.”

Kento chuckled, giving his hard-hard cock a few pumps before nursing it back into your mouth. You sucked on the tip, tasting his musk and salt. Hollowing your cheeks, you took him deeper, till he hit the back of your throat, and whatever else you couldn’t fit, you fisted around the base of his cock to work it up and down.

Your husband hissed out a curse, and wound your hair back into his tight grip, watching you suck him off with barely concealed wonder. “Doing so good for me, love,” he murmured, a sharp tug on the nape of your neck making you wince and your pussy flood your red lace thong. “And to think you were just mouthing off to me earlier.”

You squirmed on your knees, needing to touch between your legs to ease the flame of desire only your husband could burn.

Kento used his sheer strength to pull you off his cock, and as if still punishing you, he slapped the tip of his fat dick onto your cheeks, coaxing your mouth open so he could do the same thing on your tongue. You didn’t complain, glad to be used as a stress reliever for your husband.

Pre-cum smeared your cheeks and spit was glossing your chin when you took him back down your throat again, this time with more urgency.

Kento was breathing deeper, his half-hooded eyes almost closing from your talented mouth. No one could suck cock as well as his wife could, and he would stand firm in that.

Your sheer hunger and eagerness blew everyone else out of the water, the devotion only you showed him shaping his unshakable love for you.

It's just too bad you had unintentionally insulted him where it hurt the most.

“Do you think you’re forgiven because I let you suck my cock?”

Before you could answer, you were wrenched off his dick, pushed back into your knees. Your cry of indignation was stopped when he shoved two thick fingers down your throat, gagging you with a wet choke.

You worked hard to please him—to apologise to him because you didn’t mean those words; they were just a product of a stressful day.

It’s not like you understand what the fuck I’m going through, Kento. You’re just a househusband who spends all day cleaning!

Careful, those dark eyes had narrowed at you. Do you want to repeat that, darling?

I said—

But, he never gave you a chance to finish.

As if remembering your painful words, Kento grunted, bringing you to your feet just so he could spread you face down, ass up onto your huge makeup counter. The mirror reflected back your desperate stare into your husband’s impassive face, his collar searing through your skin.

“Kento—“

Rough hands from days of labour pushed your skirt up, tugging your thong unceremoniously down your cheeks where the fabric burned against your sensitive skin. “Ah—!”

The first spank landed on your left globe, leaving a stinging pain on the tender flesh. He didn’t stop there—Kento viciously spanked your right cheek, then back to your left, alternating between them until you swore they were glowing hot like dying embers.

You were wincing and crying out softly, hair stuck to your temple and cheeks with sweat. The woman in the mirror had tears in her eyes, and her husband barely pay attention to her—just like how she had messed up and thought lowly of him for a split, disastrous second.

“I don’t know what you’re going through? Did you forget I used to be a salaryman, too, darling?”

His tone dripped with sardonic anger. Another spank, this time on your lower back. The tears broke down your face.

“I’m going to drill into that pretty head who owns you so you don’t mouth back to him. A househusband?” This hit was personal, right on your prickling left cheek. “Is that all you see me as? Do you think of me that lowly?”

Frustrated, Kento yanked your hair back at the same time he plunged two thick fingers into your glistening pussy.

“Oh—Kento!”

Your cry fell from your lax mouth, your eyes snapping close in ecstasy while he finger-fucked you roughly, tugging on your hair to deliver sharp prickles of torture down your spine.

The pain mixed with the pleasure till you couldn’t tell which one was which, your body spiraling closer and closer into delirium.

“Kento!” You sobbed, sure to have woken up the neighbors if your bedroom was soundproofed. “Oh, oh, ah—f-fuck, K-Kento, I-I—“

His forefinger was hitting that softest spot inside of you, and you ached to touch your clit to throw yourself down the agonizing high.

Without thinking it through, one hand drifted in between your thighs, and you managed about three shaky circles on your sensitive bud with your middle finger when Kento noticed and yanked your hand away. Your soft cry was muffled when he pushed your face into the hard word, breathing unsteadily.

“Who said you could touch yourself? Did I say you were given permission to?”

“N-No—“

But, Kento refused to listen to your excuses. “You’re misbehaving more and more tonight. I think I need to teach you an even bigger lesson.”

You could barely cry out a complaint when he manhandled you into his arms, bringing you back into the kitchen. Plopping you down onto the huge dining chair, he left you stewing in your thoughts, tense as to what he had next up his sleeve.

Nanami returned not a minute later with a pair of arm binders and leg cuffs, and your eyes widened when he immediately took your hands, placing them in the restrictive loop behind the chair. He worked on your legs next, fastening them to the wooden stems, while you continued to pathetically bleat apologies that rained on his deaf ears.

Once you were secured, Nanami took you in. 

Everything about you was softness and seduction, and he couldn’t help but feel like he was the luckiest bastard alive. I love her, Kento’s eyes shone when you blinked up at him, all innocent and cute like you weren’t exposed in such a lewd way. I love her so very much. 

“K-Ken,” you whined, shifting in your seat. The gesture unintentionally hiked your skirt further up your plush thighs. 

As much as he loved you, Nanami had to put you back in your place—get you to respect him, even as his cock is raging to sink into your tight heat.

He tapped your cheek, a stern look emblazoned on his handsome face. “That is not what you’re allowed to call me.” His big hand wrapped around your neck, digging into your pulse point—restricting the breath from going down your airways. Asserting his point. 

“Sir!” You managed to choke out. “S-Sir—”

Your wheeze turned into a cough when he let you go, your watery eyes looking up at him filled with nothing but remorse. 

Nanami toyed with the idea of letting you go once the regret settled in, but the other half of him—that darker impulse which bludgeoned his Jujutsu years with bloodshed and violence—reared its head. It was the same sickly thrill he got whenever he beat up a curse and managed to squeeze in no more than an hour of overtime to get back home to you.

For your credit, you always let him exact his pent-up rage onto your willing body—never bending or breaking your resolve. 

Even when he walks back into the bedroom to retrieve your most hated G-spot vibrator, or when he sank it almost lovingly into your waiting pussy, you could never hate your husband—even if he drove you half mad. 

Nanami stared at his phone screen, connecting the vibrator to the app it came with. You could tell he was completely focused on breaking you, his eyes never straying when he adjusted the settings.

Soon, a pleasant hum goes off in between your thighs, and you toss your head back, a dulcet whimper leaving your lips and saturating the air with your pure neediness. Your husband doesn’t react beyond crossing his arms over his hulking chest, studying you with those intense darkened eyes you could go insane for. 

The vibrator notch constantly rubbed on your G-spot, leaving your clit throbbing with abject neglect. You almost didn’t notice your husband pushing off the sleeves of your blazer, unbuttoning the crisp white dress shirt he had ironed this morning to expose the rise of your heaving tits covered in the red lacy bra he loved so much on you.

“You wore this today?” He fingered the lacy strap, and you hiccuped a stuttering y-yes. Your husband chuckled, easing down the cups so your nipples sprung forward, ready to be teased and touched. Kento hunched down next to you, his entirely bigger build almost draping across your lap as he ran his tongue over the rise of your plush flesh, growing closer and closer to your stiffening nipples. But, he never gave you what you wanted. 

Everytime his tongue so much as grazed your areola, he would pull back, leaving you keening with disappointment. Your thighs were starting to shake, the constant pressure on such a susceptible spot slowly making you lose your mind. Without the stimulation Kento was selfishly withholding, you were sure you would be strung along for hours until he decided to show you mercy. 

As it was, your husband was a stubborn man once he put his mind to something. You could barely think past the haze of your blurry thoughts, your mind filled with cotton when finally—finally—Kento sucked on your nipples. It was soft at first, barely any stimulation, but once he had a hit of you, Kento couldn’t stop. He suckled on your tits roughly, tonguing them harsh enough to make those sensitive buds throb. 

Then, he bit down on them, eliciting a soft cry past your swollen lips. Your hips had basically taken on a life of their own, undulating minutely to the cruel game Kento played on your body. 

Once you were on the precipice, needing just a bit more stimulation to topple over the edge, Kento pulled back. He stopped the vibrator with one tap on the screen, and you came crashing back down—body slumped against the chair.

“Sir,” you sobbed, unable to hold back those fat tears from chasing down your cheeks. 

Nanami barely gave you time to adjust to the cresting sensations. He stood back up to his full height, toying with his phone and sliding his thumb pad across the screen. The same motions were replicated within the vibrator between your legs—the alternating softness and sudden vigorous overstimulation wrecking your body into dividing sensations.

You didn’t know whether to flinch or lean into the pleasure—whether to cry or to moan. 

All you could do was let out a stream of weak Sir, please, oh—Sir, past your lax mouth, your body jerking like a puppet caught in the web of his control. 

If it wasn’t enough to torture you, Kento wanted to tease you, too. He continuously pinched your hard nipples, flicking them up and down with the tip of his thumb to get them all perky and desperate for him. 

He even knelt in between your thighs, looking up at you with those melting dark eyes while his thumb gently rubbed on your twitching clit. Your husband was doing everything in his power to get you to fold for him, and you were so close to putting aside your ego just to beg him to fuck you.

“S-Sir,” you sniffled. 

Kento glanced up at you, noticing the tears beading your lash line. He swiped his thumb under one bulging tear, wiping it away.

In contrast to his filthy actions, his words were soft and sweet. “What do you want, darling?” he added, “Do you want to cum?” 

You gave him a shaky nod. 

“Do you think you deserve to cum?” 

Disappointment curdled in your belly at his simple question. Kento was giving you a chance to apologise, and you could either take the high road and beg for his forgiveness, or let your bigheadedness keep you unsatisfied.

“I don’t,” you whispered, ducking your head in defeat. Kento hated to admit how a carnal wave of satisfaction curled right in his chest from your admission. “I was mean to you. Y-you did so much for me—” you lifted your hips, as if to alleviate the tense pleasure. “—I-I’m so sorry, Sir.” 

His big hand smoothed down your belly, settling on your hip. He leaned forward, kissing your forehead tenderly. Instead of accepting your apology, he smeared your tears away with patient lips, trailing down kisses to your neck, his tongue running across the collar which held his claim on you. 

“You’re forgiven, sweet girl,” your husband murmured, standing up to switch off the vibrator. You sagged back into the seat with a teary hiccup, peeling your glossy eyes on him so pathetically, his heart couldn’t help but squeeze. “Come on—let’s get you cleaned up.”

Kento removed your bindings, careful to help you stand up on your trembling legs. He held you close to his chest, rubbing those big, warm hands up and down your back to soothe your shuddering sobs. “There, there. You’re alright, baby. You’re fine.” He lifted you into his arms, careful to tuck your head on his shoulder as he carefully made his way back to the bedroom with you.

There, Nanami reverted back to his loving, devoted self—removing your blazer, dress shirt, and pencil skirt with reverence. He lifted your leg onto his shoulder, kissing your ankles before easing off your stockings smoothly. Once you were naked in front of him, it was his turn to undress.

Kento shed off the pink apron, removed his sweatpants and then his fitted cotton shirt, exposing his shredded torso lined with numerous thin, pale white scars. There was once he was afraid of showing them to you—his past bare for your fingers to trace. But, you loved kissing each and every mark left from wounds he could not explain to you. And Nanami was grateful.

He counted himself one of the luckiest sorcerers to make it out alive of that world and into a semi-normal one. He had a wife, a home, a decent car, plenty of time to unwind and relax—in short, he was living the dream he once saw as unattainable. And it was all thanks to you.

“Come here, baby.” Kento gathered you into his arms, careful to not put too much pressure on your sore butt. He traced your features, kissed your eyelids and cheeks until you stopped quietly sobbing, all wrung out and lying exhaustively on his chest. “Good girl—just take a deep breath and tell me what happened.”

His voice was a deep, enticing baritone, inciting goosebumps on your arms and putting your guard down. Your eyes slipped closed and you inhaled unsteadily, fingers digging into his shoulders. 

“One of my executives found out her husband was cheating on her and she completely lost it at work today.” 

Kento stopped stroking your shoulder. “What?” 

You nodded, keeping your face buried in his chest to avoid meeting his eyes. “He was a… a stay-at-home husband, too. She trusted him with the nanny and—and that woman knew her kids inside and out. I was so disgusted. I… I thought that—”

“You thought that I would do the same thing to you?”

Nanami wasn’t an idiot. It wasn’t hard for him to piece two and two together—for him to see what was truly haunting you.

A minute of hesitation passed, and then, he felt you nod again. 

Nanami’s shoulders relaxed, and he tightened his grip on your tinier body. “I love you so much, Y/N. You know that, right? You’re the best part of my life. I’m so grateful you chose to marry me.”

His sincerity stopped you up short. You peeked from past your curtain of hair, finding him smiling gently at you. 

Perching half of your body up, you folded your arms on his chest, looking deeply into his eyes for the absolute truth. “If you ever fall out of love with me, Kento, please tell me. I won’t put up a fight if you want to leave me. Just don’t sneak around behind my back with someone else.”

How serious you looked, and those words… those words you spouted completely broke his heart. Kento’s expression fell, and he shook his head fiercely.

“You don’t get it, do you?” 

With barely any grace, he rolled you onto the bed, spreading your thighs around his waist. His hips drove against yours, cock sheathing in one fluid motion into your waiting pussy. The both of you cursed and cried out at the same time, heads thrown back and desire coursing freely in this bedroom. 

Nanami’s pace was brutal yet loving, his cock trying to bully into you what he had been desperately trying to show for the past few years you’ve both been blissfully married. 

He loves you—he would do anything to make you happy because your happiness was his own. 

“Nghh—Sir,” you whined, holding onto his biceps for dear life, trying hard not to fall around his cock without his permission. “Oh—oh, Kento, more, more—please, don’t stop—!”

He wasn’t planning to. If he could make you believe with his actions, Kento would keep at it until you finally accepted what he’d been feeling for all these years. 

He smudged endless kisses onto your cheeks, nose and lips, each time tasting your desperation a bit more. 

“Sir, can I please touch myself?” 

How sweet—you were waiting for his permission. In answer, Nanami plucked your hand from your side, placing it right in between your legs, implicitly telling you to pleasure yourself while he ruined your world. 

The both of you were hanging right on a thread, and the very second he felt your walls starting to melt around him, Kento pulled you in for a deep kiss, one which felt like it could break every resolve in your body. You became putty for him, dissolving into the kiss and his arms. 

You broke the second you felt his hot cum paint your walls, every fibre of your soul screaming out your husband’s name. “Kento,” you whimpered in between sloppy kisses, your bodies slippery with sweat. “Kento—”

Nanami caught you the second you sagged into his arms. With his ludicrous strength and yet, his gentleness, he easily rolled you against his chest, letting you catch your breath on top of him. His lips found your temple and hair, large palms methodically massaging your sore muscles. He gripped your ass, squeezing fondly and unhurriedly, content to enjoy this moment with you.

When you had finally stilled and your breathing returned to normal, Kento whispered: “I love you, darling. You know that, right?” 

Even with your raging insecurities, you couldn’t deny how sincere and sweet he sounded.

“I love you, too, Kento.”

Seriously now, he added: “And I won’t ever cheat on you because you’d take my car away first.”

You grinned, knowing that Nanami Kento was a man of his word and would never back down from it without a fight.

a/n: mappa made him so damn fuckable in the last ep as reparations for what they’re gonna do to him next im so sick

©️ lalunanymph, 2023

[selfcarecap]

Lip Gloss [A.D.]

Art Donaldson x reader (x Patrick Zweig)

summary: Art loves when you kiss him while wearing lip gloss and it gets all over his own lips. What he loves even more is when you get on your knees for him and he ends up with lip gloss stains all over another certain body part of his.

warnings: smut 18+ (oral m receiving, fingering f receiving, handjob, reader and Art have sex next to Patrick who is asleep but they have permission, submissive-ish!Art, a bit of voyeurism from Patrick – he doesn’t ask but for the sake of this fic we’re assuming consent bc it’s fictional, m masturbation, spitting, cum eating, pet names: good boy, baby, reader says Art is ‘wet like a girl’), feminine Art (so dare I say canon Art🙂‍↕️) or at least he likes lip gloss lol, Art and Patrick are college roommates – attraction heavily implied between all three of them but only Art and reader are in a relationship, this was supposed to just be a drabble lol there’s no plot just porn, also i’m kinda intimidated by the challengers fandom lol idk but anyway here's my first challengers fic sddslkh <3

word count: 3.4k | gorgeous divider by @dollywons

When you first start dating Art, you always apologise for wearing lipgloss when you’re kissing him. You always wipe it off his lips after a kiss, pulling your sleeves over your hands to get it off his mouth. You’ve heard that guys don’t like it, but you like wearing lipgloss and Art has never complained. 

When you get more comfortable around him, you don��t always wipe the gloss off his lips, letting him do it himself. But he only does it because he feels like it’s what he’s supposed to do. Guys aren’t supposed to like the feeling of lip gloss. He’s probably supposed to tell you it’s annoying and ask you to stop wearing lip gloss, at least when you’re with him. 

But he doesn’t want to control you, and he doesn’t want you to stop wearing lip gloss. He just wants you to stop apologising for it.

“You don’t have to say sorry,” he tells you every time with a smile, but you still do it. 

“I know it’s sticky. I won’t put any more on tonight, don’t worry.” Art stops himself from pouting at your words. 

And yes, Art once applied the lip gloss that you left on his nightstand. He was missing you and the lip gloss was the closest thing to you that he had. He ran into the bathroom when Patrick came home, wiping it off furiously before his best friend could see. 

He likes keeping a shirt of yours at his place so that he can smell you even when you’re not there, but what he likes even more is to apply your lip gloss. It’s just a thin layer, but it makes him feel like he’s been freshly kissed by you. There’s nothing wrong with that, and there’s definitely no reason he does it other than to feel closer to you. 

-

You’re getting ready for the birthday of a friend one night. You’ll be going to a bar for a bit, nothing big. But you’re doing your make-up on Art’s bed with him sitting behind you, hands on your hips. 

“You look so pretty.” 

He says those words for every step of your routine. He wants you to know how beautiful you are no matter how much or how little make-up you’re wearing, even if it’s cheesy. Art grins when you show him the finished look, and his eyes stay stuck on your glossy lips, tinted a dark pink, almost red colour. 

He knows you can’t resist it when he looks at you like that, he never can when it’s the other way around either, so you press a kiss to his lips. Art knows that you’ll be wiping the sticky gloss off as soon as the kiss is over, so he deepens it to keep the feeling of lip gloss on him, even though Patrick is sitting in the bed right next to you. 

Knowing him, he’s probably staring and enjoying it; Art wouldn’t be surprised if he heard the sound of Patrick’s phone camera going off. 

You smile against Art as you part your lips for him, trying but not quite managing to bring yourself to stop kissing him yet. You have to physically take Art’s chin between your fingers and push his face away from you to stop. And yet, you give in again immediately, peppering his face in kisses before you pull away for good. 

You give Patrick an apologetic smile, even though you both know he doesn’t mind you and Art making out next to him. By the time you look back at Art, he’s already wiping at the lip gloss stains all over his face. Your cheeks heat up when you realise how many marks you’ve made on him. You forgot you put on a darker and more pigmented lip gloss than normal. 

“Wait,” you giggle, pulling away Art’s hand that’s already trying to wipe the sticky gloss away, “I’ll bring you a wipe.” 

“Doesn’t he look pretty like that?” Patrick comments before you have a chance to get up. Art throws a pillow at him. 

You look between them, at Art’s face littered with shiny, sticky stains. His lips are especially dark and shiny, as if you just put some lip gloss right on there, albeit a bit messily. 

“Of course he’s pretty like this,” you say, not looking away from Art.

 “Then just leave him like that, he likes it.”

“I don’t,” Art defends much too fast, and Patrick laughs. Art reaches for his pillow to throw at Patrick but remembers he already did. He’s about to stand up to go to the bathroom and get a stupid wipe himself, but you grip his t-shirt and he sits back down. 

“It’s okay if you like it, baby. It’s hot that you do,” you try to whisper the last part, and pull him in by his t-shirt to kiss him again, “Let me clean you up, and I’ll put some lip gloss on you properly.” 

“Only cause you think it’s hot,” Art calls after you weakly. 

Patrick laughs again. 

“Shut up.”

Art shyly tries to catch a glimpse of his face in the mirror. 

You sit back down in front of him, gently cleaning his face. You hold out the lip gloss afterwards, placing a hand on his face to apply it, the wet pop sounding when you undo the lid. 

“Wait,” Art leans back abruptly, as if you’re about to hurt him, “I want it from your lips.” 

You huff, smiling at him. You apply some more lipgloss to your own lips, taking your boyfriend’s face to give him a kiss to his pursed lips. You apply more and kiss him again. You both smile at the oddly innocent kiss – pursed lips against pursed lips. 

You wipe away the excess over Art’s cupid’s bow, grinning at his shiny, sticky lips. 

“You look so pretty, baby,” you tell your boyfriend, and he blushes. 

“Show me,” Patrick says, leaning forward to see Art from the front. Art turns his head away from his best friend, red up to the tips of his ears now. 

“Show him, baby,” you coax, reaching out for his chin to turn his head. You know Patrick likes to make jokes, but not when his best friend is like this – eyes like those of a puppy, genuinely embarrassed. 

It doesn’t have to mean anything, but Art has made it such a big deal in his head that he can’t like having your lipgloss on his lips that Patrick knows he needs encouragement right now. Patrick moves to sit at the edge of the bed to look at Art better. “Look at you, Artie, all pretty. Looks almost as good as on your girlfriend.” 

You roll your eyes – you should’ve known he can’t be fully serious. 

“You have to leave now, you’re already late,” Art reminds you, and you let him press another kiss to your lips. You’ll have to clean up the mess he’s made on your mouth on the way, but you don’t mind. You watch him enjoy the feeling of the sticky gloss on his lips a few more seconds before he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. 

You and Patrick share a look, rolling your eyes, and you blow a kiss to Art before you close the door.

 - 

You come back home early, before midnight. The birthday girl left to go see her boyfriend halfway through her own birthday party, so you’re back at Art and Patrick’s dorm. You’d be annoyed at your friend if you didn’t have your own boyfriend to go visit.

Patrick is already lightly snoring when Art opens the door for you – he’s in nothing but boxers – and you know what that means.  

Patrick has given you two permission to do whatever you want while he’s asleep, as long as you’re quiet. You’ve always wondered if it’s a tactic to secretly listen in on you and Art having sex, knowing that you would’ve otherwise never done it with him in the room. 

Art has a small light on next to his bed, and you join him on his mattress. A few leftover glitter particles sparkle on his lips, and you pull his face closer to yours. 

“Suits you so well, Artie. So pretty.” You swipe your finger over his bottom lip. He kisses it, stopping himself from smiling. He’s already looking at your lips, and you mentally pat yourself on the back for remembering to reapply your gloss just before you got here. 

You kiss him then, and Art licks into your mouth as if he’s been starved and waiting to eat you up since you left. You adjust your position to sit on top of him, and your knee grazes his lap. He’s already fully hard.

“Sorry.. couldn’ help myself. Pat fell asleep and I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

“It’s okay, baby,” you grin, holding his jaw, “You want me to make it better? Want me to go down on you?”

Art nods distractedly, mumbling out, “please, baby. Need you”. Your thumb brushes the gloss on his lip, and Art opens his mouth. You pull your hand away before he can wrap his lips around your thumb, and you kiss him as a whine escapes his mouth, muffling his voice.

You press your lips against his until they’re coated in your shiny gloss, and then you slide a finger into his mouth. He sucks on it – pink, sparkly lips around your finger.

“You look so pretty. Should wear my lipgloss more often,” you tell him, and he turns his head away in fake-annoyance, your finger slipping out. You feel his hard cock against your leg again as he moves, and you pull at his chin to open his mouth.

Art moans as you messily push three of your fingers into his mouth to get them wet against his tongue. You pull them out and slide them down into the waistband of his boxers, and down the length of his cock.

You put your hand over his mouth before he has a chance to moan, and you nod towards Patrick. He’s asleep, his back to you, but it’s not going to take long for Art to wake him if he keeps being this loud.

You get up, and Art pulls his legs to the side of the bed as you sit down between them. He’s straining against his boxers, a tall tent pulling the fabric taut. You release Art’s cock, and it slaps against his abs. He’s glistening down his length from where you spread his spit on him, a small puddle of precum already at the tip. 

You giggle quietly, “So wet, baby. You’re wet like a girl.”

“Shut up,” he whispers back weakly, biting his lip to stop a smile from spreading over his face.

You kiss the wet tip, licking the precum, and begin to leave lip gloss stains all down his length.

“Feels so good, baby. You’re so good at this,” Art says not nearly quietly enough.

“Shh, baby. Don’t wanna wake Patrick up.”

Your boyfriend nods, but you don’t think he’s listening.

You take his dick into your mouth properly now, wet heat enveloping him as you take him deeper, and you look up to see how he bites his lip and lets nothing but a breath slip past his lips as he watches you.

“Good boy,” you whisper to him. He intertwines his fingers with yours by the side of his hip, and you look up to smile at him. You ignore how, when you look past Art for a split second, you can see Patrick clearly jerking his cock under the blanket, the movement of his arm making it obvious. 

You shake your head slightly, resisting the urge to roll your eyes at Art’s best friend, and you take your boyfriend deeper down your throat as your spit drips to his balls. Art looks down at you with such restraint on his face, it almost looks like he’s about to cry.

He manages not to make a sound when you suck his dick more eagerly, your lip gloss smeared over his cock as you jerk off what you can’t take past your lips. The only sound in the room is the wetness of your mouth and your spit around your boyfriend’s cock.

Art lets out a shaky breath as his abs contract, his hand squeezing yours, and you softly nod up at him, taking his cock as deep as you can. He whimpers pathetically when he spills his load down your throat, and you swallow it all as he keeps cumming and cumming in your mouth.

When you pull away, out of breath and with your lips wet, you take in the picture you created. Art’s cock is full of your lip gloss, his face shiny with a thin layer of sweat, his cheeks as red as the gloss you left on his lips earlier. You’re about to stand up and get a wipe to clean Art up, but he pulls his boxers back on.

He likes the glossy stains on his cock even more than the ones you leave on his lips. 

He pulls you up on the bed, lying you on your back. “Please can I go down on you?” he whispers, mouthing at your neck and down your chest, pulling your top down as much as the tight fabric allows, whining when he doesn’t get all the way down to your nipples.

As much as you want Art to eat your pussy, you won’t let him. He always gets messy and loud, moaning almost uncontrollably as he makes out with your wet pussy, and there is no way Patrick could pretend to sleep through that. 

If you thought Art was going to cry earlier from how good he felt, he reaches a new level of teariness now when you tell him no, eyes almost glassy.

“Tomorrow, okay? You can still use your fingers now.” Art looks at least somewhat assuaged at your offer, and lies down on his side next to you, unknowingly shielding you from Patrick. You don’t know if he came along with Art, or if he’s still jerking off, and that makes it even more exciting. 

You know Art would never cheat on you, but if you gave him permission to, and if he admitted his attraction, you’re sure he’d jump at the first opportunity to invite Patrick into bed with you two. You know Patrick feels the same. You like the thought of him listening in, making himself cum to the sound of his best friend and his girlfriend having sex.

“Here,” Art urges, holding a hand to your mouth, even though he knows you’ll be more than wet enough from giving him head. You spit into his open palm, and Art spits in too, the way he always does, liking the feeling of your combined warm wetness against his skin. 

Art reaches down your body and into your underwear, adding to the wetness. He rubs your clit in messy circles, kissing you even messier. You spread your legs for him more, but Art lets out a frustrated huff.

“Can I… want you naked,” he mumbles against your skin. Art watches with puppy eyes as you get up, taking off your tight top and grabbing your favourite oversized shirt of his instead, sliding off your trousers and panties only once you’ve put the shirt on.

“This is all you get.”

Art looks happy enough as you get back into bed with him, sliding a hand up your shirt now that he can comfortably get under the hem, and cups one of your tits.

“Can’t believe you’re mine,” Art says against your lips, hand moving back between your legs to play with your pussy, “So pretty.”

He circles your clit for a few moments before he pushes a finger inside while making out with you, remnants of his own cum still in your mouth, spit and gloss between you two as he continues to rub your clit.

“You’re the prettiest woman in the world,” he says, voice almost strained, and you realise he’s hard again, humping the mattress as well as he can while lying on his side, “Wish I was inside your pussy right now.”

You have to resist giving in to him – he’ll be insatiable the rest of the night if you let him fuck you even just for a few seconds – but you reach down to pull his cock free from his boxers, wrapping your hand around him.

“Can you focus if I’m doing this?” you ask pointedly, and Art nods eagerly.

“I’ll be good, I’ll be a good boy. I’ll make you cum,” he promises, slurring his words as your thumb swipes over the tip. But he’s not lying, he’s still fucking your pussy with his fingers. You’ve trained him well, so he knows what to do.

You can’t deny that you’re both getting loud now, if it’s not the moans you don’t quite manage to swallow down, then it’s the sound of your wet pussy and your slicked hand around Art’s cock.

You cum almost at the same time, Art rubbing your clit at just the right, albeit messy, intensity, and your thighs squeeze around his forearm when the orgasm flows through you, your own hand not stopping around Art’s cock. He’s breathing hard, reaching for the tissues on his headboard, but the tissue box topples over and falls against his shoulder and to the floor as he tries and fails to rip out a tissue.

“Here, I got you, baby,” you angle his cock to his abs, so that he won’t be spilling all over his own sheets, and you only have to jerk Art’s dick for a few more seconds before he’s shooting ropes of cum over his own skin. His abs glisten as his breath stutters, and he has to wrap his hand around yours to stop when he gets too sensitive.

“I love you so much,” Art huffs with a smile, and you kiss him briefly.

“I love you too.” You gather his cum off his abs, wiping it over your palm and holding it over his mouth. It drips and falls between Art’s parted lips. Art hums when you slip your fingers into his mouth, and he sucks the last drops of his load off them.

“Such a good boy,” you rub your thumb over his cheek, gazing at him in awe.

“I love you so much,” he tells you again, a soft smile on his face.

When you’re done and you look over, Patrick is back to quietly snoring, a freshly crumpled tissue by the side of his bed. You kiss Art before you can begin to smirk, and you briefly consider telling him. You decide it’s a conversation for another day. Art would definitely get hard again if he knew that Patrick was jerking off to you two doing it, and he’s already squeezed out two orgasms just now. You don’t need him that overstimulated tonight.

You remove your makeup and get one of the fresh pairs of panties Art bought for you to keep at his place. You walk back into the bedroom and find Art on his back, smiling at you all fucked out. 

You lie down with him, letting him cup one of your tits for comfort so that he can sleep better. You kiss his cheek and see that his lips are still shiny with glittery gloss. You decide not to offer to clean him up, now that you know he likes it like that. 

P.S. Thank you for reading <3 Reblog and comment for Art to come and kiss the gloss off your lips 🤭

[targaryenluvs]

— OPPOSITES ATTRACT

pairings: clarisse la rue x aphrodite!daughter!reader (romantic) percy jackson x reader (platonic)

summary: the one where percy jackson has to wrap his head around the fact that the nicest person he’s met at camp, is dating clarisse.

warnings: kinda crack ficy in my opinion, fluff, smooches, capture the flag, reader is percy’s saving grace, percy sees the reader as a sister

a/n: i just got inspired okay? ✊🏽

percy’s feet were booming, heard from afar as he ran to the creek’s shore. the ares trio hot on his tail as they chased him down. he knew he couldn’t run forever, he’d have to fight, but how on earth was he going to win against three trained teens?

as if clarisse wasn’t frightening enough already, her scream sent literal chills down percy’s back, guess she really likes spears? he thought to himself.

the sounds of cheers and celebration drew the pairs attention as luke planted the opposing teams flag into the floor. they’d lost. percy felt clarisse’s grip falter, only slightly, but not when she saw the flag, clarisse’s eyes were currently trained on something behind him. more bullies? “there you are! i was waiting for you, wanted to show you my new and improved skills.”

clarisse let go of him and he couldn’t believe it, the rage in her eyes seemed to dissipate the second you came around. you, the sweetest person he’d met here, were friends with that thing?

that thing was capable of feelings?

his jaw dropped at the sight of clarisse’s hands on your cheeks, listening to you ramble on about who you’d fought and defeated in the woods, the pretty butterfly you’d seen. percy’s eyes were so close to popping out of his skull as clarisse kissed you, deeply. then he wanted to vomit as hands traveled and tongues met.

at dinner that night you sat by luke and chris, happily eating away as your hand rested on a book infront of you. “hey perce! come sit down.” you patted the space next to you as he accepted. “what’re you reading?” percy stared at the cover you’d flipped over to display to him, well he wasn’t expecting that. “where’d you get it from?” you pointed towards your girlfriend proudly, “she said she knew i’d like it, isn’t that sweet?”

percy’s weird version of a smile caused you to frown, “your smile is scaring me.” he immediately dropped it as you laughed, causing him to nudge you. “don’t be rude, i’m just a baby.” percy hadn’t felt so comfortable with someone since his mother. you pinched his cheeks, “naw, yes you are.” he swatted your hands away as you giggled, percy stared at you, studying you.

shining eyes, a beaming smile and an enchanting personality, truly a daughter of aphrodite, yet you dated clarisse. it didn’t make sense in his head, but from what little scenes he’d seen between the two of you, if you were happy than he was too, “what do you see in clarisse? why are you with someone so—” you turned to look his way, percy was worried you’d be offended.

but of course you weren’t, “because i like her percy, and she likes me. she’s absolutely gorgeous, if she wasn’t already a daughter of ares or i didn’t know? for sure aphrodite. and, people are always misunderstood, just because someone seems like a bad person, doesn’t mean they are. when clarisse and i are together, i see the best parts of her, always. i love her regardless, but there’s obviously things that you don’t tell everybody you just meet, or if you aren’t super comfortable with a person then you won’t show all the parts of yourself. i think, when you love someone you accept all parts of them, the good, the bad, the worst. you love someone despite their flaws. clarisse is good to me, and i like her, that’s all that matters. you’ll understand when you find someone yourself perce.”

he sat still, raking over your words in his head, “if one person can feel that way about someone else, they’d explode.” you laughed at his words, he was still young of course, he’d understand soon, you had a feeling. “i’d happily explode because of how much i love her.” you glanced back at her, only she wasn’t there.

“well i don’t want you to explode, i do want to spend my night with you.” clarisse stood behind you with her arms crossed, you could see percy tense up at her presence. with your hand on his, and your eyes reassuring him, he smiled, “i’m happy for you, but if she try’s anything i’m more than happy to beat her ass for you even if i’m broken in half.”

clarisse couldn’t hear his whispers, thank god. your smile was small, placing a hand on his shoulder, you kissed percy’s forehead, “my protector, now no one can try anything with me huh? thank you perce, if you need anything here at camp, or if you just want to talk and eat those blue foods of yours—” his arms wrapped around your neck tightly as you recovered from the force.

“thank you.”

“any day perce, any time.”

and percy sat back, watching the two of you walk away hand in hand. a clear thought rung through his head.

opposites attract.