Latest Posts by beefybkg - Page 3

you know what they say. Makin pancakes makin bacon pancakes take some bacon and i’ll put in in a pancake bacon pancakes that what it’s gonna make bacon pancake

muscle kumapan

cw: threesome (mmf), spitroasting, creampie, degradation

Loud moans and deep groans fill your small living room. Katsuki’s eyes move from where your mouth is wrapped around him, shuddering at the sight of Eijirou taking you from behind. His hips begin to rut faster into your mouth, matching the other man’s thrusts. He bites onto his lip to stop the loud whine from escaping his throat as Eijirou's eyes meet his own. Both sets of red hooded with lust, before Kirishima lets out a low, “Fuck,” at the lust filled stare coming from the other man.

Bakugou eyes move back to you, the way you take him fully down your mouth. Feeling the vibrations of your moans shoot up his cock when Eijirou begins to rub your clit in harsh circles. “Such a dirty bitch, takin’ us like this,” Bakugou sneers, hips rutting harsher into you as he feels his release building deep in his core. “Ya like when we use you like this? Make ya our little cock sleeve?”

You whine loudly at that, mouth moving faster, hips pushing Kirishima deeper into your pussy. It’s filthy really, how wet you are. Your cries of pleasure fill the room as Katsuki pulls you off his cock, hands clasping around the back of your neck as yours grip his wrists. His thumbs cradle your chin, brushing softly against your cheek. And fuck- you look so good like this. Getting fucked on another man’s cock. The kiss he pulls you into is nothing short of dirty. Whining and drooling into his mouth as Eijirou angles his hips up, his cock hitting the soft spot deep in you every time he thrusts back into you.

“Tell me how good it feels,” he whispers, “how good it feels taking another man’s cock.”

“So- so good ‘suki. feels so good.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah- yes! Yes, fuck, he’s fucking me so good! Gonna make me cum.”

Your eyes roll back as Katsuki begins to move you, using his grip on the back of your neck as leverage to fuck you harder against Kirishima’s cock.

“Go on then, cum for me. Be a good little bitch and milk his fucking cock.”

Mewls and whines spill from both you and Kirishima’s lips at his words. You move a hand from his wrist to wrap around Katsuki’s cock, moving in time with the way he fucks you onto Eijirou. “Fuck- shit, Baku- Kat-Katsuki,” Eijirou moans, “I’m-I’m gonna cum.” His fingers circle your clit faster— harsher. Kirishima’s thrusts becoming sloppy as he nears his end.

“Yeah? Gonna cum in this sloppy fuckin pussy?” Katsuki says, “my fuckin pussy.”

You cry out at his words, walls clenching down on Kirishima as you cum. Mixed whines of both of their names fall from your lips as Katsuki moves you harder on Kirishima, riding out your high. Both men groan your name as they finish, Katsuki rutting into your hand faster as he finishes where you and Eijirou are joined. The feeling of Kirishima stuffing you full of his own release has your eyes rolling back.

“Good girl,” Kirishima whispers to you, rubbing your sides gently.

“Yeah,” Katsuki says in agreement, pressing a kiss to your head, “good fuckin girl.

DEAD RECKONING : TODOROKI TOUYA x READER

SUMMARY: A makeup artist at a haunted maze, all you want to do is make it to the end of the season with a little extra cash in your pocket and no murder convictions on your record. Scare actor Todoroki Touya makes that last part a challenge. (7.8k) CONTENT & WARNINGS: no quirks au, halloween, enemies to lovers, fem + afab reader, slight scumbag touya, haunted maze workers, smut, semi-public sex, smoking, heavy swearing, touya likes having his hair pulled + girls who are a little mean to him, sort of good girl vs bad boy vibes, 18+ minors please dni NOTES: Happy Halloween from me!! This fic is part of the Willow's Haunted House collab. Dedicated to cat-slippered and ofmermaidstories, for workshopping what eventually became this fic with me about a thousand years ago. I’m sorry I turned Bakugou into Dabi. And I’m sorry for dedicating the now Dabi fic to you. But not sorry enough to not have done it. Love you. :)

If there was one thing you hated about Halloween, it was Todoroki Touya.

Shockingly, this was not a commonly-held sentiment, which was the only reason there even was a recurrence of Todoroki Touya darkening your Halloween seasons in the first place.

For the last three years, you’d spent your fall semester working as a makeup artist at the Musutafu haunted maze alongside a slew of other college and local kids looking to make a little extra cash. The hours were fairly flexible, and the wage covered your textbooks, with a little left over to keep you in the occasional coffee between lectures.

But your wages did not nearly cover the amount of psychic damage you had been dealt, managing Todoroki Touya’s obnoxious, sarcastic, chain-smoking ass day after day for seasons on end.

On lucky days, someone else was on Touya duty. But on unlucky ones, you found him sprawling in the plastic makeup chair opposite you, those intense blue eyes tracking you with no small amount of pleasure, like he was this afternoon.

You stopped in the doorway, a curse slipping out of you. You’d been hoping that you’d get lucky today, as the day was otherwise an excellent one. You’d invited a group of friends to do the maze with you after you got off shift, and you had been looking forward to it all week.

But it figured Touya could never let you have too good of a time.

“Missed you too, sweetheart,” he drawled over the noise of displeasure that escaped you. He was at least already dressed in costume, so he wouldn’t go smearing his makeup as he pulled it on, a tumble of stitches and frayed edges that had once been a dark-blue duster, but now just mostly gaped open to show the hard planes of his chest.

“I’m so sure,” you told him, averting your eyes from his pecs. You sighed, resigning yourself to his presence, and made your way in, dumping your bag on the staff room couch.

“This is a very hostile work environment you’re creating,” Touya rasped, his grin sharp. Years of chain-smoking outside the maze had left his voice even lower and raspier than when you’d first met him three years ago.

“Don’t worry, it can always get more hostile,” you told him, affecting your own sweet grin as you moved over to the vanity, digging through all the makeup and prosthetics for the ones he’d need.

Touya himself was severely scarred, which was likely why he’d applied to work at the haunted maze in the first place. You’d never asked him about his scars, but you’d heard enough gossip from the other maze workers to know that they were the product of a childhood accident, involving the burning down of his father’s—the then-and-current mayor’s—house.

He’d accentuated them with a shit load of facial piercings, and was sort of off-putting to look at the first time you caught a glimpse of him. The issue was that, once your eyes made sense of what they were seeing, he was infuriatingly handsome.

You’d heard he’d initially been unleashed on the maze with no makeup or prosthetics, and within the first evening was causing line backups, with all the parties of teen girls who were taking a little too much time lingering around his section of the maze.

So now he was subjected to prosthetics to make him uglier, a fact that he seemed to absolutely relish.

You dug out the monster prosthetic pack that gave him jutting forehead ridges. “Let’s make the outside reflect the inside, shall we,” you told him as you flapped the rubbery pieces at him, smirking your own little smirk.

Touya’s answering grin was wicked, and he relaxed back in his seat, sprawling his legs out wide in that infuriating way men had. “Think my outside is too pretty then, huh?” he asked, sapphire eyes flickering over you.

Your face went hot in a weird combination of anger and embarrassment. “I try not to think of your outside,” you told him pertly, making sure to slap the forehead piece onto him hard enough to make a splat noise.

His mouth twitched again but he let you go to work, gluing the pieces down against his face, careful not to press them to the seams of any of his scars. He was tall enough even lounging in his seat that you only had to lean over a little to focus clearly on his face, all long legs and rangy muscle.

This close, he always smelled like cigarette smoke, with an undercurrent of something rich and dark, like cinnamon or chocolate. You could never put your finger on it, but you were not about to go sniffing him at any length to figure it out, even if it was annoyingly appealing.

He’d probably love that, and would absolutely never let you live it down.

Touya’s eyes tracked you closely as you worked, but otherwise his expression was still, and you thought not for the first time that it really was too bad he was so obnoxious. He was actually quite handsome, with a soft, sensuous mouth, a blade-straight nose, and vivid blue eyes that all but glowed like the embers of a crackling fire when he was provoking you.

It was a shame he wasted all his beauty being the most annoying man on earth.

You’d heard from the other maze workers that he was relatively well-known around the area, having spent his teen years doing petty criminal shit to destabilize his father’s reelection campaigns, netting himself several jail stays and a record a mile long. He’d settled somewhat since he’d gotten a job at a piercing parlor downtown and several side gigs like the maze, but people weren’t fully convinced he’d abandoned his old ways, and he still clearly relished any opportunity to discomfort and destabilize anyone who got on his bad side.

Apparently including you.

“Don’t hurt yourself thinking too hard, sweetheart,” Touya said, those cerulean eyes blinking up at you.

You realized you’d paused over him, midway through blending his prosthetic forehead in, and another annoying little smirk rode his mouth.

You took care to roll your eyes at him, gesturing at him with your brush. “I know several places I can stick this if you’re not careful.”

Touya’s smirk melted into an unholy grin. “Don’t threaten me with a good time,” he rasped, eyes glittering up at you.

You went back to work on him with a little more force than necessary, blending hard enough that you saw his broad shoulders shift in an effort to keep his neck braced. “I doubt any time with you could be classed as good,” you said pertly, giving a final few brushes before stepping back, satisfied with your work.

The forehead made him look unhinged as he offered another smirk, leaning forward. “True—the feedback I usually get is ‘incredible’, ‘mind-blowing’, ‘earth-shattering’, ‘toe-curling’, ‘scream-inducing’—”

“Oh I’ll scream if you keep talking,” you said hotly, even as your cheeks warmed. Even with the stupid fucking forehead he was annoyingly handsome. You needed him a thousand million miles away from you before you herniated something, jumping back and forth between annoyance and attraction.

Maybe it was time to stop signing up to work here.

“Now get out of my room, I have other people waiting,” you commanded, thankful when you heard the scuff of a boot at the door confirming another maze worker waiting.

Touya didn’t look at all chastened, but he unfolded himself from the chair in an unfurling of broad shoulders and long legs. He leaned in close as he passed, voice dipping low. “See you later, sweetheart,” he said, a smile curling his mouth.

Annoyingly, his proximity crossed a bunch of the wires in your brain, and you fumbled before managing, “Not if we’re both lucky.”

“Stop, I’ll blush,” he drawled, another unholy grin splitting his cheeks before he saluted two fingers at you and ducked out of the room. The scent of smoke and cinnamon followed him, and you let out a sigh of relief, the air and your brain clearer now that he was gone.

No sooner were you free of him, however, than another problem was immediately introduced.

“So…he actually talks to you?” The other maze worker’s head poked through the door, her eyes resting on you intently. You recognized her as a local highschooler who’d just joined this season, who usually ended up getting in early enough to get her makeup done by the other artist.

You blinked. “I…unfortunately?” you answered, confused.

She stepped into the room, and you reflexively gestured her over to the chair that Touya had just abandoned.

She hummed as she took her seat, eyeing you curiously. “Wow. How’d you get him to do that? He doesn’t really talk to any of us,” she informed you.

You could feel your eyebrows lift towards your hairline. “He…doesn’t…?”

She shook her head, her pretty golden ringlets swaying with the motion. “He’ll chainsmoke with Tomura and he sometimes talks to Himiko. But the other girls—they say he just laughs and walks away if they try to chat with him.”

Well. That sounded rude enough to be true to form, you thought. But when Touya was in your makeup chair you couldn’t get him to shut the hell up. You shifted, uncomfortable with the idea that Touya had any special soft spot for you. Maybe, like a cat, he could sense who didn’t much like him and decided to latch on out of spite.

“You might be a little young for him,” you decided, going over to the vanity and digging out the prosthetics she’d need—a witch chin and a raised gorey slash that would open along one cheekbone.

“No—it’s all the other girls too. And most of the guys,” she told you. “He must like you.”

A laugh escaped you, and you turned back to her with the prosthetics in hand, a few new brushes and a white, cakey paint palette shoved beneath your elbow.

“I don’t think he likes anyone,” you told her, setting everything down and applying the tacky glue to the underside of her chin prosthetic. “I think he just likes to inflict himself on people he knows it will annoy. You could act disinterested in talking to him and he’d probably come flitting right over.” The image of Touya suffering at the hands of a league of flirty high school girls pleased you—better they suck up his time and energy than you.

“I don’t know,” the girl said uncertainly. “Maybe he likes you.” But she was forced to leave it at that once you started applying her chin, making it difficult for her to speak.

You certainly didn’t think that was the case.

But the seeds of doubt had already been sown, a question that you thought would probably haunt your evening now that it had been formed. Just why did Touya talk to you if he was so standoffish with other people? And what did it mean that he made such a point of it?

You knew for sure it wasn’t because he liked you, his obnoxious manner said that well enough. But why did you get treatment that was significant enough that even the other maze workers would comment on it?

And, perhaps even more concerningly, why did the thought agitate you so much?

You decided to try your best not to think about it, and have a good time with your friends once they got there, putting Touya out of your mind. You returned to doing the girl’s makeup with vigor, suddenly as eager to get her out of your chair as you had been Touya.

She was finished in record time and she thanked you, carefully not to smile too widely lest she dislodge the prosthetics. You took in the next person waiting as she left, slowly working your way through the line of people as the hour drew ever closer to the maze’s evening opening time.

Eventually you finished up and collected your things, making your way out front to find your friends already waiting for you. They’d clearly dressed with the intent to go out after—something you hadn’t considered—their dresses short and slinky and their makeup smoky. You’d have liked to have joined, but you were still in the sweater and leggings you’d come straight from lectures in.

Maybe you would have time to go home and change after the maze.

You were scooped up into several hugs, breathing in the sweet scents of various perfumes, and informed that you absolutely did have to go home and get changed after so you could come out and get “Hallowasted!” too.

“Okay if I’m not busy peeing my pants, which monsters are the ones you did?” your roommate asked, dancing around to warm herself in the cool fall air. “I wanna see ‘em.”

You named several of your creations, conveniently leaving off Touya. You knew that if your friends took too close a look at him and figured out what he looked like under the cakey makeup and forehead prosthetic, they’d never leave the maze. You knew he sat somewhere around the end of the set up, in an alcove that had been decorated to look like an abandoned village with burned out cabins, a mess of bones dotting the ground at the side of the walkway.

You were also hoping you could pass unnoticed in the group of your friends, as there was no doubt in your mind that Touya would take special care to annoy you in particular. So you did not want your group to linger long enough for your friends to scope him out.

You would know it was him under the makeup you’d done yourself, but being cornered somewhere in the dark with the soundtrack of screams echoing in your ears would not exactly have you feeling your boldest.

Your group had dinner at the food trucks parked out front, chatting and laughing and waiting for the crowds to die down, each indulging in one drink for bravery before joining the line. Eventually you ended up at the front of the queue, late in the evening, your friends crowding in behind you, whispering nervously.

“You first,” your roommate hissed when you looked back at them questioningly. “You work here, you have to do the honors.”

You sighed, accepting your fate, making a mental note to subtly shift to the back of the pack as you made it further into the maze.

Then you were being greeted by Shigaraki Tomura, whose makeup you’d done last. He’d been given layers of prosthetic peeling skin and a scar at his mouth, and he was decorated with a layer of disembodied hands gripping him all over. He shredded your tickets, looking unenthused.

“Remember that inside the maze, none of the monsters can touch you,” he recited dully. “You are not permitted to touch them in return; do not hit, kick, push, bite, slap, lick, scratch, or otherwise assault the actors. Don’t tamper with the props, do not leave items behind. Be respectful of other guests and do not linger too long in the rooms. If you need to leave for any reason, every room or alcove has clearly-lit exits marked in red.”

His eyes briefly met yours as he waved you through, and you thought you saw a pale brow go up.

But then you were being shoved forward by your friends, several hands clinging to your arms and the back of your shirt, and you stepped forward into the dark of the hall.

The maze truly was a labyrinth—it started indoors in a pitch black room, with fake body bags hanging from the ceiling. Toga Himiko, a highschooler whose makeup you usually did, stalked you around the edges of the room, dressed in a torn school uniform with fangs peeking out of her widely grinning mouth, and a dripping knife clutched eagerly in her fingers.

Once you made it past her, the maze spilled outdoors, into a tangle of hedges and artificially-constructed set, steering you in twisting loops around the property.

You were pleased with how terrifying all the actors looked, even having done most of their prosthetics yourself, and found your heart racing as you took every new corner, found yourself freezing up and stumbling back whenever someone jumped out at you, suppressing a shriek.

Your friends participated with gusto, shrieking and ducking away from the monsters, holding you like a human shield between them and the maze workers. You would have been insulted if it hadn’t been so funny.

You made it through most of the maze with little trouble, passing through a haunted swamp, a graveyard with mummies twisting and screaming in their bindings, grasping for you. You stumbled past a man wielding a chainsaw and a set of clowns waving axes, making it through in record time thanks to the push of your frantic friends behind you.

It was only on the last leg of the maze that you finally ran into Touya.

You peered around the corner, recognizing the set up instantly. The burned out houses flickered with blue flame, lighting up the set in an eerie, unsettling sapphire light. The fake bones on the ground sat in piles of ash, glowing stark white in the light. You couldn’t spot Touya anywhere, and you slowly crept forward, trying to shepherd your friends in front of you.

You even almost thought you had been successful, until a rasping voice drawled behind you, “Hello sweetheart.”

And then your roommate screamed, bolting forward, knocking into you and sending you stumbling over a pile of the fake bones. You landed hard on your ass in the patchy grass, the wind punching out of you.

“Oh fuck—” you heard one of your friends say as she too was steamrolled, and you watched the group of them trip over one another in their desperation to get through the alcove, dissolving into chaos in a matter of seconds.

You quickly tried to get to your feet to follow, but a hiss forced its way through your teeth when you tried your ankle, a wave of sharp pain washing over you.

Oh fuck. Not good.

The tread of a boot in the grass next to you made you jump, and your head whipped up to catch sight of Touya crouching over you.

“You good down there?” he asked. His eyes glinted in the dark of the maze, and the blue light cast shadows over his features, twisting them in the dim. Your heartbeat picked up, even as your brain recognized him for who he was.

You cringed, embarrassed that you’d had to hurt yourself in his part of the maze specifically. It figured.

“I’m fine,” you said quickly, trying to climb to your feet again. Your ankle twinged in protest, and Touya must have caught the flash of pain on your face because then his hand was under your elbow, supporting you as you rose in an unexpected show of courtesy.

Although he broke the illusion immediately when he opened his mouth again.

“Yeah you look real fine,” he said, quirking an eyebrow. With the prosthetic forehead it made him look sort of demented.

“Well I’ll be fine,” you insisted, even as those blue eyes flickered over you assessingly. His fingers tightened a little on your arm before he bent down, tapping his other hand on your leg.

“Which leg, sweetheart?” he asked. “And where?”

It took you a minute to catch up to what he was asking, confused at seeing him on his haunches before you. A scream went up in the background, some terrified maze goer, and a little shiver went down your spine.

“Uh, the left ankle,” you supplied, startling when Touya’s fingers slid underneath the cuff of your legging over the aforementioned ankle, rolling it up gently. You blinked, surprised at the careful touch.

“Can’t see too well in the dark,” he announced. “But it looks like you ripped it open on something.” He peered back up at you. “Think it’s sprained?”

You shook your head. “Probably just rolled. It hurts but not like go-to-the-hospital level,” you said. “Just give me a minute, I’ll be good.”

Touya considered you for a moment, then got to his feet, moving closer. That scent of smoke and cinnamon drifted over to you, and he bent his head to look into your face.

“Much as you’re the most terrifying thing in this maze, I don’t think people are gonna wanna see you here,” he told you, a smirk cutting into his mouth. “Would ruin the experience. So we’re gonna have to get you out of here.”

You scowled up at him, crossing your arms over your chest. Well no thanks for the concern, then. “I’m going, I’m going, keep your shirt on,” you told him, preemptively gritting your teeth before readying yourself to take another step.

But before you could, one of Touya’s hands was suddenly sliding under your knees, his other slipping behind your shoulder. In the next second the burning buildings were swinging wildly in front of your eyes, and then you were being hefted up into Touya’s arms. You let out a startled yelp, your own hands shooting out to grab his jacket, giving him a wild-eyed look.

“Touya—!” you garbled out, as a smile pulled at his expression.

“Relax, sweetheart,” he told you, looking a little too smug about the situation he’d just put you in. He strode towards the exit, kicking the door open with a heavy boot, carrying you down the hall and back into the building. He was hard with wiry muscle underneath you, and so deliciously warm against you. Your ears went hot with every sure, easy step he took, like carrying you was little effort for him.

Thankfully it was barely a minute before you reached the staff room, where Touya laid you out gently on the couch, much more carefully than you might have expected from him.

Your cheeks and your nose burned, flaming even hotter when he squatted down in front of you and took your ankle in his hand again.

His dark eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he took note of your injury. In the light you could definitely see that you’d caught your ankle bone on one of the fake bones you’d tripped over, as there was a long gash up the side of it, but nothing else looked bruised or otherwise concerning. You thought you’d probably be fine in a couple hours, just a roll.

It was definitely nothing Touya had needed to princess carry you through the staff halls for!

“Don’t move,” Touya told you, and you watched, bewildered, as he stepped away, stalking over to the other side of the room where the staff lockers were. He dug out a shabby backpack, pulling something out of it, and then returned to your side, spreading out his haul on the couch next to you.

You noted a little tube of rubbing alcohol, an antiseptic cream and a bandage, as well as an ice pack. One of your eyebrows went up.

“You rob a hospital or something?” you asked reflexively, heart fluttering a little bit weirdly when Touya’s eyes flickered back up to yours. His eyelashes were long and thick, startlingly pretty.

“Nah,” he said, his gaze cutting suddenly away from yours. “Usually keep shit on hand for my burns.”

Your stomach flipped, and you realized how rude your question had been. Embarrassment welled up in a hard lump in your throat. Well shit. “Oh—fuck. Of course. I’m sorry, Touya.”

A pinch to your leg had you yelping, and his handsome face was serious when he stared back up at you, his eyes practically glowing with intensity. “I don’t need your sympathy.”

You rolled your eyes, rubbing the skin he’d pinched absentmindedly. “It wasn’t sympathy, asshole,” you said. “It was an apology for being thoughtless. Although if that’s how you’re gonna be then I take it back, geez. As if you need sympathy when every girl in this maze—” you froze, clamping your mouth shut when you realized what you’d been about to say. “Uhhhh.”

Touya’s eyes slowly slid down your face, flickering over you as another fucking obnoxious smirk started to twitch at the side of his mouth. “When every girl in this maze what?” he asked, pleasure turning his tone a little silky.

You rolled your eyes, leaning forward to grab the rubbing alcohol off of the couch so you didn’t have to look at him. “When every girl in this maze would like for you to shut up and stop asking questions,” you said, unscrewing the top with a deliberate focus.

Calloused fingers came up to yank the tube out of your grip, however, and Touya leaned in, his grin sharp and white.

“Lemme do it, sweetheart. Return the favor for my prosthetic,” he said. You winced, remembering how forcefully you’d applied his forehead earlier. As you braced yourself, however, his fingers brushed gently over your skin.

You suppressed a shiver at the feeling of him wiping off the blood with the rubbing alcohol, then going over it with the antibiotic cream, smearing it delicately, your nose going hot again. He took his time, careful to cover every inch, kneeling on the ground in front of you with your ankle clutched in one large hand. His duster fanned out behind him, dragging on the ground as he bent over you, but he didn’t seem to care, too absorbed in his task.

When he was done he carefully applied the bandage too, and you looked on, mystified, as he cracked the ice pack with long, strangely elegant fingers, and pressed it over your ankle bone as well.

His eyes flicked back to yours when you let out a short hiss, feeling the zing of the ice all the way in your teeth. Some of his expression looked squashed, given the obstruction of his prosthetic, but you thought he looked maybe just a little bit concerned, before he realized you were just being a baby. You were suddenly overcome with the urge to rip off his prosthetic so you could see his expression in full, and had to pin your arm to your side to stop yourself.

“This was—unexpected,” you admitted, watching him closely. “You’re…a surprisingly good nurse, Touya. Thank you.”

His answering smile was nothing short of wicked. “Anytime, sweetheart.”

You fumbled with the antiseptic and sniffed pointedly, just to have something to complain about. “Well. Your bedside manner could use some work.”

Touya leaned in, his smile suddenly going dark. “Oh, angel, now that’s not what I’ve been told—”

Your palm shot out to cover his mouth, horror overriding your normal brain function. Touya just laughed into the skin of your hand, however, shockingly boyish and sweet-sounding.

You pressed harder, hissing at him to shut the hell up, until you registered the feeling of dry, raised skin under your fingers. You jumped, realizing you were pressing down on his scars.

“Shit, did I hurt you—?” you asked, yanking your hand back, only for Touya to catch your wrist. He blinked, looking surprised that he had.

“No it’s—you didn’t—” he said. His fingers shifted over yours and his eyes darted over your hand in something like shock. “They get dry and pull but they don’t—it wasn’t that.” He sounded annoyed, but not that you’d touched him. That you’d pulled away from touching him.

Somehow, that settled you. Before you understood what exactly was possessing you, you reached back in, satisfied when Touya let you. The pads of your fingers met the edge of a scar again, feeling along the seam. You carefully traced over it the way Touya’s had just traced the cut on your ankle.

Touya’s eyelashes fluttered, and he let out a slow breath. “You don’t need to touch ‘em, sweetheart,” he said finally.

He said it as lightly as he’d said all his earlier nonsense, but he’d been giving you shit for long enough that you recognized there was something deliberate about the ease of his tone this time. This wasn’t his usual, natural timbre.

“Does it bother you?” you asked.

It seemed to take him a minute to decide.

“...No,” he answered, those cerulean eyes catching on yours again. You felt like you could feel your heartbeat in your own fingers, and your skin prickled with something—annoyingly not annoyance.

“Well then shut up,” you told him. “Or I’ll pinch you right on the seam.”

Touya laughed, a slow rolling sound. “Promises promises,” he said, but he seemed more relaxed.

You felt along the contours of his face, mystified by what the hell you thought you were even doing, until you reached the edge of the prosthetic you’d applied. It only took a second for you to give in to the impulse you’d had earlier and start peeling it from his skin, slow and deliberate.

You reached down and helped yourself to the rubbing alcohol, applying it around the prosthetic, letting it dissolve the adhesive before pulling gently. Shockingly, Touya let you do it. He just sat there, watching you with an intensity you’d never experienced before, hardly blinking.

You kept careful track of the prosthetic, unable to look him in the eye, focusing on rubbing off the makeup you’d used to blend it in for good measure. You tried not to examine the weirdly satisfied feeling that settled in your stomach when his natural face was visible to you again.

It was probably just his looks. He really was so handsome for such a grating personality.

You set the prosthetic aside, lost on where to go from here. Touya probably thought you were so fucking weird for just like, rubbing his face like he was some kind of cat. He certainly looked like he had no idea what to do now, which was such a departure from his usually snotty self-assurance that it threw you for an even bigger loop.

“Always thought you’d be a little rougher with me, sweetheart,” Touya finally managed, flashing you a smirk. It looked a little smaller than usual though, like he was drawing it up like a shield, but your hackles raised instantly, like always.

You always, always responded to him.

“Trust me, that can be arranged,” you promised darkly, trying to crack your knuckles. Only one of them crackled obligingly, however, and Touya blinked, before laughing again.

“Yeah?” he asked, leaning in closer. Cigarette smoke and cinnamon clouded your senses, fogging up your brain. “Gonna fuck me up nice and good, sweetheart?”

You dredged around for something snarky to say, but words were suddenly failing you as those infuriatingly pretty features drew closer. Seriously could a makeup artist not catch a break around here?

“Uhhh,” was all you managed, your brain bluescreening, as Touya huffed a laugh, exhaling over your mouth.

“Shut up,” you finally spat out, catching a fistful of that black hair. Touya groaned, however, looking like he liked that of all things, and a red hot flash of something jolted through you.

There was a pause, then, a tiny sliver of a moment where it seemed like one of you might pull back—move away and snipe at one another from a safer distance.

Things somehow seemed to be spiraling out of control, in a way you hadn’t expected, after just one kind gesture from him. You didn’t really understand how you’d suddenly found yourself with him leaning over you, your hand pulling at his hair, but if you had any good sense you’d have pulled away immediately and told him something extra mean, just for good measure.

Except then Touya opened his mouth and escalated things, as usual.

“Make me,” he said, the most absolutely heinous line of all time. You yanked his hair harder, deeply disgusted that he’d try that on you.

And then, like a thread had snapped, you leaned forward and crushed your mouth to his.

Touya reacted like a lightning strike. He surged up over you, weighing you down into the staff room couch. He tasted like spearmint muddled under bitter smoke, and he was broader than he looked under that duster, heavy with lean muscle. You could feel every kilo of it press you down into the cushions as Touya licked hot and filthy into your mouth.

His tongue curled around yours, wet and teasing, and he exhaled on a groan like he’d never tasted anything better. It sent little sparks of electricity jittering up your spine, especially as he shifted between your thighs, that trim waist slotting between them perfectly.

“Fuck, angel,” he said, his tone somewhere between sweet and nasty. “Wanted me this whole time, huh?”

You yanked harder on his hair, telling him to shut up, but the swelling of something hard against your thigh told you he only liked that more. “You are so nasty,” you told him, and you could feel his mouth curl into a wicked grin against the side of your face, before he leaned in and bit the shell of your ear, grinding the evidence of his interest even harder into your thigh.

“I can show you nasty, sweetheart,” he promised, his tone going silky-soft again. A calloused hand slid up into your shirt brazenly, long fingers teasing the underside of your bra. When you didn’t immediately try to yank him out of there he wiggled in further, until his fingers met your nipples, and he got even harder against your leg.

He pinched carefully, moving back to kiss you again so that the sound that escaped you was muffled into his mouth. He kissed you harder as your nipples tightened, pebbling in his fingers, something far too satisfied filling the air around you. His hips canted up, grinding himself into you again, this time a little closer to your core.

Your own hips shifted, moving to increase the friction, trying to shift him closer to your center. His fingers and tongue teased you, each flick of his tongue mirroring the caress of a finger, the soft pinch of his index and thumb.

You couldn’t have controlled yourself if you wanted, too focused on the sensations he was drawing from you, the desperate need to get closer to him though you were already pressed together from mouth to shin. You realized you’d been pulling at his coat when he finally withdrew from your shirt and let you yank it down his arms, exposing a patchwork of scars over dense, mouth-wateringly well-defined muscle.

You inhaled sharply, and Touya paused for a minute—until he seemed to realize that you were fixated on the shape of his arm, rather than the purple bruise of scar tissue. The quickening of his grin in the corner of your vision told you that you’d pleased him.

“You like that, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice obnoxiously sweet. “Want to see the rest of me, angel?”

You ripped your eyes off of his arm to glare at him, which only made his grin wider. The fluorescent lights behind him limned his hair in a pale light, blinding you when he moved his head—and all of a sudden you recalled where you were and what you were doing.

“Here? No! Touya, anyone could walk in!” you said, trying to scramble out from beneath him.

Touya caught you around the thigh, hauling you back underneath him. You noticed he was careful to angle your leg up so you didn’t catch your ankle against the arm of the couch.

“This is far from the worst thing I’ve done in a public place,” he said, laying himself back out over you.

You pushed at his shoulder though, casting a worried glance back at the door. “I am not trying to get fired,” you hissed, even as you shivered with the delicious heat of him over you.

Touya sighed through his nose, and then heaved himself off the couch. You watched him seize the plastic makeup chair and haul it over to the door, stuffing it under the knob at an angle so that it held the lock in place. Then he turned around and prowled right back to you with predatory intent. Your stomach fluttered.

“Better, angel?” he asked, tone soft.

You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of nodding, but he seemed to know what you wanted anyway, leaning back in to kiss you fiercely.

You melted into the feeling of his mouth over yours, kissing him back just as passionately. You hated how good he was at that, hated how pretty he was under all those scars and piercings, hated how his obnoxious personality wasn’t even a factor in what you wanted to do with him right now.

Touya groaned again when you pulled at a fistful of his dark hair, and then you were dragging him down to the couch and climbing into his lap. Touya seized your left leg as you did, pointedly guiding your ankle away from the edge of the seat, and it only inflamed your desire for him.

“Like you a whole lot better like this,” he said into your mouth, as calloused fingers slid into your leggings.

Your reply was cut off by a moan as he traced his index finger lightly over the center of your panties, before pressing down firmly over your clit. A thousand little points of electricity lit up under your skin, and you shifted into his hand unthinkingly.

A smile formed against your lips, and it was only Touya’s hand making its way into your panties that suppressed the annoyed buzz that started in the back of your brain.

“You kick up such a fuss, sweetheart, but look at what you really think of me,” Touya purred as his fingers slid up into your incriminatingly wet folds. “All this for me, angel?”

You wanted to bite him for his cheek but you feared breaking the skin of his scars, so you settled for giving him a pointed look. He just laughed, his smile smug.

“I’ll show you what I’ve really thought of you too, sweetheart,” he promised, taking hold of your leg again to slide your leggings and panties down. He settled you back over the hard line in his pants, grabbing your hips and pulling you firmly down over it, grinning.

“Love when you’re a spitfire little fucking brat. I’ve imagined taking you right over the vanity every single day for the last three years, sweetheart. Taking you against the lockers and then right here over the couch. Fucking you so hard that you scream and everyone comes running in to see you squirming and crying and begging on my cock, and you want it so much that you don’t even care—”

He laughed when he felt you clench up in his lap, working to unbuckle his belt and free himself, immediately angling you over him. “You want that too, sweetheart? Want to see if I can make you scream so loud that people come to see what’s wrong?”

“My god you never shut up,” you told him, pointedly avoiding the question. In lieu of an answer, you shifted, guiding him to your center and sinking down onto him instead. You watched with satisfaction as he threw his head back and hissed at the feeling of you slipping down around him.

“Fffffffffffuck,” he said to the ceiling, a hand tightening in your sweater. You had to agree, gritting your teeth with the delicious slide of him inside of you, hot and thick and full and perfect. You leaned in, putting your mouth over the scar tissue on his neck, smirking when he exhaled shakily again.

“I think,” Touya huffed. “I should have put you over my lap three fucking years ago.”

You thought back to your first glimpse of him, flicking ash at you as he chainsmoked outside the maze entrance, and thought you would have probably gouged his eyes out if he had tried. Honestly he’d barely scraped together enough good will with his little ankle treatment as it was.

But maybe this is what that girl had been talking about, when she said Touya didn’t talk to anyone besides you. Had he really been more into you than he’d let on, these three years? Is that why he’d been at your throat this entire time?

The thought was lost when Touya’s hips lifted into yours, grinding himself into you just right, and your head fell back with a shivery moan. Touya’s mouth found the skin of your throat and sucked as he bucked up into you, picking up into a faster pace. You rocked back and forth over his lap, guided by Touya’s grip on your hips, relishing in the feel of him inside of you.

His fingers slid back down, brushing over your clit, and you bit down a yelp as he dragged his thumb over it firmly.

“That’s it,” he said, biting down softly on your neck. “Let me hear you, sweetheart.”

You pressed a hand over your mouth instead as he slid in and out of you, those clever fingers working you deftly. He pinched softly, then swirled the pad of his thumb firmly over your clit again, groaning and pounding up into you. “I wanna hear you, sweetheart. Always want to hear your mean little mouth.”

“Touya—shut up—” you panted as he moved you how he wanted, played you like an instrument. Between his fingers and the hard press of him inside you, you felt like you couldn’t escape the pleasure, the feeling mounting within you. No matter how you moved your hips, his fingers were there to meet you, rubbing maddening circles, teasing you mercilessly, and he filled you so good that it felt like he was pressing against that spot from the inside too.

You writhed with the feel of him, as he steadily covered your neck and shoulders with marks of his attention. You couldn’t help but moan, much much louder than you would have liked, and Touya leaned back to look at you again, looking pleased.

“That’s it, yeah,” he said, another grin pulling at the corner of his mouth. “Louder for me, sweetheart. Want you to come for me.”

You huffed, unable to do anything but squirm in his lap, chasing the feeling closer, ever closer to the edge. You weren’t going to let his infuriating attitude ruin this for you, not when you were so close—

Without input from your brain, your hand reached out to grab a fistful of Touya’s hair again and his hips stuttered, slamming up into you with more force than he had previously. He looked a little shocked, and then a little dazed, and the grip he had on the side of your hip tightened almost to the point of bruising as he forced you down onto him harder, gasping.

“Fuck, yeah, sweetheart—fuck yes,” he rasped.

His fingers rubbed you harder, and his hips slapped up into you frantically. The uptick in intensity had your eyes almost rolling to the back of your head, and you bit your palm to keep the sounds in.

Touya ground into you with a renewed fervor, and it was only another matter of seconds before something inside of you was being wrenched loose. You lost the grip on your control, every nerve ending in your body lighting up and coming alive, singing with pleasure. You seized up, crying, “Oh my god, Touya!” and then you were cumming hard, harder than you ever had, Touya’s talented fingers still working you, his cock still fucking you mercilessly.

Touya swore, spitting out your name like a curse, and then again in almost reverent tones, before he too was following you right off the edge. He slammed you down on him once, twice, and then he was cumming too—shivering against you as he held you tight against him.

The silence of the room around you was ringing, once you managed to return to yourself. Touya was a long, hot, hard wall of muscle between your thighs, his hair mussed and a patch of makeup you’d missed smearing into the hair at his temple. His cheeks were flush with effort over the seam of his scars, and he looked, irritatingly, even more beautiful than he usually did.

Like he could sense what you were thinking, the corner of his mouth rose as those cerulean eyes searched over you, blinking like a pleased cat.

“Fuck, sweetheart. I knew I liked you mean,” he said, his raspy tone rougher than normal.

“And I don’t like you at all,” you sniffed, though you knew the protest was pointless when he was quite literally softening inside of you. You let go of his hair, remembering yourself.

“Aww angel don’t be like that,” he drawled, his grin widening. He leaned in, pressing a slow kiss over your mouth. “I can make it up to you—all three years, if you’ll let me.”

You knew he felt your involuntary shiver, pressed up against you like he was. And that was definitely answer enough for him, as his smile went more handsome and boyish than you’d ever seen it. You hated that you liked it.

“I’ll clean up and clock out,” Touya told you, gingerly helping you off of him and back into your leggings, his eyes fixating a little too closely on your legs as you did so. “You tell your friends you’re gonna go home and rest that ankle. And I’ll pick you up out front, angel.”

You flushed, embarrassed that you’d completely forgotten that you were at work, and you’d intended to go out bar hopping after. But you figured you could be forgiven just this one time.

“Fine,” you said, though your insides were feeling a little fluttery at the thought of leaving with Touya. “But I expect penitence or there’s going to be a reckoning.” You supposed you were owed, for all these years of suffering.

Touya looked down at you from under his lashes, dark and beautiful and still as infuriating as ever. “I’ll give you my best, sweetheart. Over and over until you can’t even walk,” he promised, “Gotta keep you off that ankle, after all.”

You flushed again, yanking your sweater down over your leggings, and fled out the door. Touya’s laughter floated after you, sounding pleased.

You sped up your pace, your ears burning.

And if you were actually rushing not to get away from him, but to return to him sooner? Well, then, nobody needed to know that but you.

Sweet Tooth

Minors Do Not Interact

Common Scents Series: Cat Bath, Sweet Tooth.

Synopsis- Izuku likes the freedom of being a very private business owner when he has dual lives to run. After all it allows him to "hire" himself as a new worker to get close to Barista!Reader- Wait, why do you smell burnt?

Warnings- Yandere, Dubcon, Stalking, Drugging, Overstim, Size Diff, Mindbreak.

Tags-Aged up(obviously), Hybrid AU, Rabbit!Izuku, Dom!Izuku, Afab!reader, Sub!Reader. Kitchen sex, Scentmarking, Creampie, Excessive seed, Undercover boss, Oral!receiving.

Word Count- 8.1K, because apparently I missed the coziness of Autumn

Izuku sat in the manager's office, the soft glow of the moon filtered through the skylight, casting a gentle radiance upon his features. Short, curly forest green hair, slightly disheveled from his earlier preparations, framed his face in an endearing manner as he sat back in the cushy chair. His emerald green eyes, filled with anticipation, seemed to glimmer and reflect the moonlight, adding a glow to his gaze.

Sitting up, he carefully removed his silver rings with practiced ease, each etched with swirling thorned vines and placed them into a velvet-lined box before making his way to the safe hidden in the wooden paneling of the small room.

Next, Izuku's attention turned to his hunting knife, a weapon as beautiful as it is deadly. He gripped the handle, his hand steady and sure, and twirled it effortlessly in the air. The moonlight danced along the metal, illuminating the intricate green thorn designs that ran down the blade. With a measured flick of his wrist, Izuku sheathed the blade, and it disappeared into the hidden safe. The compartment closed with a soft click, concealed behind an intricately designed wooden panel once again. Sealing away his secrets until they are needed once more.

Leaving the manager's office behind, Izuku made his way through the empty cafe, his steps light and silent as he headed toward the kitchen to prepare for the day ahead. The 'Lunar Rabbit' cafe's pristine jade green walls, soft lighting, and delicate hanging glass terrariums created a serene atmosphere, inviting its inhabitants to relax and escape the chaos of the outside world. Izuku being no exception.

In the quiet solitude of the kitchen, the signature evergreen scent of the café mingled with the aroma of matcha and lime. Izuku's tall figure gracefully moved around the kitchen, his large rabbit ears twitching with every soft sound. Like second nature, he set up the kitchen before taking the bright green citrus butter out of the fridge.

When it came to rabbit hybrids, most people weren't used to seeing Flemish Giants. Clad in a light green t-shirt, tightly hugging his well-defined muscles, Izuku's towering physique was more reminiscent of a predator hybrid, his strength barely hidden beneath a veneer of dorky charm and wit.

With precise movements, Izuku began preparing the perfectly striped, two-toned croissants that the 'Lunar Rabbit' cafe is known for. He measured the ingredients meticulously, his attention to detail reflected in every step. There is a comfort and tranquility in the act of creating, a stress reliever that he cherished amidst his dual lives.

The rhythmic sound of his palm hitting the dough, gently flattening it, filled the dark kitchen. Izuku's movements are methodical and precise, almost hypnotizing, as he continued to work on the matcha-lime croissant dough. His thoughts drifted to his upcoming shift with you, and he couldn't help but feel a wave of excitement wash over him.

Izuku was under your spell from your very first shift at one of his cafes. He had watched you on the security cameras for months, studying every little detail. Your moves, your smile, the way you interacted with customers. Izuku was drawn to you like a moth to flame, captivated by charm and spirit.

Izuku imagined you standing there, your lovely form illuminated by the soft café lights, under the delicate swaying terrarium spheres. He could already see himself making your favorite flavored latte, as he's seen you make it countless times on the security feed. How many times did he tweak that syrup to get it just to your liking? The thought of serving you a cup he made himself brought a smile to his face, his green eyes glowing with anticipation.

Lost in his fantasies, Izuku accidentally spilled some flour onto his t-shirt. Chuckling softly to himself, he brushed off the white powder and ran his fingers between his ears and through his short curly forest green hair, basking in the thrill of the upcoming shift.

He focused his attention on the task at hand, skillfully wrapping the mix in plastic wrap and placing it in the fridge to rest until tomorrow. Drumming a brawny calloused hand against the fridge door, he grabbed a sheet of pre-chilled blueberry-lemon dough before closing the door with his heel.

At the kitchen island counter, Izuku's hands worked the dough skillfully, his fingers deftly shaping it into perfect croissants. The dough was soft and pliable, and Izuku liked the feel of the texture against his fingertips. It was smooth and velvety, the aroma of smashed berries and lemon rind wafted through the air as he worked. Izuku appreciated scents that complimented his own. Citrus, teas, your jasmine-like signature.

Shaping the pastry mix, his mind briefly wandered to thoughts of what it would be like to touch you, to feel your curves beneath his hands. Lost again in daydreams, Izuku envisioned the feel of your silky skin against his callouses and scars, his mind conjuring images of your usual flowery fragrance intertwining with his yuzu and evergreen scent. The thought of your lips, soft and inviting, added to his desires, and his thoughts wandered to the taste of you, the way your lips would feel against his own.

Izuku's mind is completely consumed by the thought, and he could feel the heat pooling rapidly within him. He desperately wanted to trace the contours of your body, his fingertips exploring every inch, as his desire continued to build. His breath grew heavy. With a raspy whimper escaping his lips, Izuku momentarily lost himself in his fantasies, feeling bead of pre-cum line the tip of his straining erection. The excitement building within him became overpowering, overwhelming his senses.

As his arousal grew, Izuku's scent turned musky, blending with his natural citrus evergreen aroma. Izuku's eager slit continued to weep the viscous fluid, the sticky patch of his boxers trapped against the thick head of his dick. As he continued his task, every so often the precum slick fabric would slide forcefully against his tip, eliciting another deep groan from his lips. His need for you at this point was overwhelming, almost unbearable, and his foot tapped on the floor in rabbit-like frustrated anticipation.

It was a struggle for Izuku to maintain focused on his work, his mind overloaded with longing and the intense desire to fulfill every single one of his fantasies with you. He took a moment to compose himself, releasing a pent-up growl of frustration under his breath. He couldn't afford to lose his shit on day one and scare you off, he wasn't some amateur.

Knowing he must regain control, Izuku attempted to once again throw himself into getting the shop ready for the morning rush. With a reluctant sigh, Izuku carefully took out the raspberry two-toned croissants that he had prepped the day before, placing them on the kitchen island counter to be baked for today's morning rush.

Izuku looked at the clock hanging on the wall, he just needed to be patient.

⊰⋆∘☽༓☾∘⋆⊱⊰⋆∘☽༓☾∘⋆⊱⊰⋆∘☽༓☾∘⋆⊱⊰⋆∘☽༓☾∘⋆⊱⊰⋆∘☽༓☾∘⋆⊱⊰⋆∘☽༓☾∘⋆⊱

When you first stirred from slumber, your first instinct was to dive back under the blankets in the pre-dawn darkness. Slowly peeling back the covers of your cozy bed, the moon cast a dim glow through the window, barely highlighting your room.

As you slid your feet out from under the quilts and sat up in the chilly room, your sleep blurred gaze fell on the neatly arranged uniform laid out on the dresser. The tan and jade green dress holds an air of cute professionalism and elegance, perfectly suited for your role at one of the 'Lunar Rabbit' cafes.

As you took off your pajamas, your gaze wanders downward, landing upon the growing bruises and scratches that marred your sore hips. You shook your head softly, a mix of emotions flooding rational thoughts. Last night with Katsuki, the tiger you shared your apartment with, had been...intense to say the least, at times his territorial nature could cross bounds. It seemed his bestial inclinations towards you often manifested in these marks and an aching pussy full of the feral feline's load. It had been necessary to join him in the bath, to wash away any traces of other scents but his own, before he was satisfied last night.

Tossing your head in frustrated resignation, you took a deep breath, attempting to push the memory of those bruises aside. You adjusted your uniform in the mirror, determination to face the day with your usual brand of professionalism. With each careful movement, you purposefully shed the weight of hectic apartment life, transforming into the dedicated and fun-loving barista that your colleagues and patrons know you to be.

The early morning air carried an invigorating crispness as you stepped out of your apartment, the pitch darkness of the night slowly yielding to a beautiful, dark purple sky. The stars twinkled above, casting a gentle luminescence upon the world below. The beauty of the early morning took your breath away.

Walking through the quiet streets, you took in the sights of the autumn morning. Vibrant hues of orange and red adorned the foliage, casting a mystical fall atmosphere all around. The gentle crunching of leaves under your feet became a soothing background melody, heightening your anticipation for the day to come. It's a picturesque scene that brings a smile to your face as you take in the beauty around you.

The short walk to the 'Lunar Rabbit' café is refreshing, the cool breeze gently caresses your skin, and you can't help but lift your face towards the sky, embracing the tranquility of the morning. The scent of dew-kissed grass and the earthy fragrance of autumn fills the air, creating a calming atmosphere.

Unlocking the door, you entered the cozy café intricately designed with a charming lunar forest theme. Most of the walls were adorned in a relaxing jade green color, with glistening glass sphere terrariums hanging gracefully from the ceiling. Creating a sense of tranquility whenever the light caught the floating gardens just right.

But it's the back wall mural that always draws the attention of customers—a breathtaking depiction of ethereal rabbits, crafted from swirling shadows, engaged in a graceful dance beneath a moonlit sky adorned with countless stars.

The careful brush strokes bring the scene to life, immersing you in a mysterious and whimsical world. The rabbits are beautifully painted, their whirling silhouettes seem to come alive under the gentle glow of dawn and fairy lights, creating an otherworldly ambiance. It's a mesmerizing sight in the early morning, one that never failed to captivate you in the dark hours.

You stepped into the dim kitchen, a sense of familiarity washing over. The soft glow of the moon outside cast a gentle illumination, highlighting the edges of the counter tops and appliances. You began gathering the necessary ingredients to create the delectable quiches that will soon grace the cafe's display case.

The movement is sudden. You only caught the shifting of shadows on the opposite side of the kitchen out of the corner of your eye. Your heart thumped rapidly against your chest as your attention was drawn to the mysterious figure standing upright near the ovens, rising to full height in a fluid motion. The towering silhouette seemed to materialize out of nowhere from the depths of the dark kitchen. For a split second, you could swear you saw his eyes glimmer in the shadows, as if they were momentarily aglow with a vivid emerald light.

The initial shock sends a jolt of adrenaline coursing through your previously fatigued body. Startled by the unexpected sight, your muscles tensed, ready to defend yourself if necessary. Eyes narrowed, trying to make sense of the hulking man's presence, you ran through your options.

Then Izuku shifted forward, the illumination from the skylight instantly brightening his features. The ethereal glow revealed his forest green ears nestled in curly hair, and vivid green eyes, capturing the essence of mischief and charm that so often accompanies his presence. A genial grin tugged at the corners of his lips, “Mornin'!” he chirped, closing the oven behind him, the raspberry croissants settled on the racks. His soft rabbit ears entirely too perky for this pre-dawn hour.

Recognition immediately dawned on you, and a mix of relief and frenzied amusement flooded your features. A little laugh escaped your lips, laced with a touch of underlying nervousness, as your eyes met Izuku's. "Midoriya! Damn, you scared me." you exclaimed, the words tumbling out with a hint of manic energy. Izuku's grin widened as you stammered, the sound of his name on your lips seemingly delighting him. Your laughter lingered in the air, relief palpable. All you could do is laugh off the initial fright, glad to see a familiar face in the dimly lit tranquility of the kitchen.

Wait.

Your brow furrowed as confusion washed over. The gears in your exhaustion-addled mind began to turn, piecing together the inconsistency of Izuku's presence in the closed cafe at such an early hour. As a new employee, Izuku shouldn't have the keys to the establishment. "How did you get in?" You blurted out, voice equal parts curiosity and suspicion. You looked at him, searching for an explanation.

Attempting to quell any rising doubts, Izuku quickly weaved a web of deception, words slipping off his silver tongue with practiced ease. His response was laced with an air of authority, as if the decision had been handed down by corporate in a moment of desperation. "Ms.Usagiyama gave me a key," he stated, his voice confident and unwavering. "They needed someone to fill in as an overnight baker, and it seems I was their best option." When was the last time he had called her anything but Mirko?

Your surprise was blatantly displayed across your face as you registered the information. You didn't expect management, especially Rumi, to be handing out keys so freely and enlist new employees for overnight baking duties. Then again... given the rather unexpected departure of one of the bakers, you supposed the situation must be dire enough to warrant such desperate measures given the shop's popularity.

“...It'll be nice to have help in the mornings” With a shrug, you dismissed your initial doubts, content to accept Izuku's explanation. After all, you're just a team lead, not really the position to harp on the decisions made by upper management when you'll only get a headache for your trouble. As the manager of your location, Rumi can deal with that nonsense. The fact that you're just honestly grateful for the extra hands during the morning rush seems to override any lingering uncertainties.

You stretched your arms out wide, movements fluid and graceful, as a yawn escaped your lips. Fatigue lingered beneath the surface, evident in the slight droop of your eyelids and the darkened circles barely visible beneath your eyes. A testament to your restless night of sleep, body aching from the intensity of the “bath” you shared with Katsuki.

You offered Izuku a small, tired smile as you spoke, voice carrying a soft, lingering weariness. "I'm going to get the quiches ready in the other oven," you said with sleepy determination.

A moment later, as you set about your task, Izuku's acute senses detected a faint scent of burning sugar, tickling the edges of his nostrils. His eyes immediately darted towards the ovens, but upon closer inspection, he realized that the raspberry croissants had only just begun baking, their doughy forms barely touched by the heat. He dismissed the fleeting scent, assuring himself that it must have been a mere figment of his imagination.

Silently observing you moved past him, Izuku's gaze lingered on the circles under your eyes, a telltale sign of exhaustion and a restless sleep. Concern flickered in his emerald gaze, a twinge of protectiveness already tugging at his chest. He silently resolved to ensure that in time you understood that he was there for your well-being, even if you remained blissfully unaware of his true intentions.

Taking it upon himself to ease your tiredness, Izuku moved with a flurry of efficiency at the tea counter. His fingers gracefully danced across the array of tea leaves, their aroma filling the air, selecting his own special blend to help ease your weary spirit. His movements were precise and purposeful, a silent gesture of care for the woman who stood just a few feet away. You vaguely heard the clink of one of the kettles, as he prepared a cup colored with your favorite hue.

You carefully closed the door of the oven, the final quiche now tucked away to bake to golden perfection. You wiped your hands on your apron, turning around just as Izuku walked over, cradling a cup of tea in his large hands. Leaning against the kitchen island, your tired eyes blinked back the haze of exhaustion, momentarily jolted back to alertness as Izuku approached.

“This the seasonal energy tea blend?” Your gaze drifted down to the cup, its colorful pattern a perfect match to your favorite shade. You paused for a moment, a flicker of surprise crossing your features, but quickly brushed off the coincidence. After all, how could the new guy know such a personal detail? Thanking Izuku with a sweet smile, you accepted the cup and immediately felt the relaxing warmth it radiated.

The steam rose in ethereal tendrils, almost imperceptible in the dim light that filtered through the skylight overhead. Your eyes followed the wisps up towards the still dark pink sunrise through the window, their graceful dance capturing your attention briefly before you brought the cup to your lips.

With each passing second, Izuku's senses were assailed by that same faint smell that evoked a sense of ...smoke? His brows furrowed ever so slightly, his eyes narrowing in confusion. It lingered in the air, a faint odor that didn't align with the barely warm food in the oven. Izuku couldn't have known it was due to Katsuki, your territorial roommate, his pheromones carrying a note of smoldering embers. The scent itself evoked a strong dislike within Izuku, as his attention to detail in the pastry-making artistry made even the slightest indication of burning a source of disdain. Izuku swept over the kitchen, muttering to himself, trying to locate the source of the offensive smell.

As your finished the last sip of the steaming tea, a wave of warmth washed over you, permeating your body from the inside out. The autumn morning chill retreated, replaced by a comforting sensation that wrapped around you like a cozy blanket. The embrace of the herbal infusion wove its soothing spell, making you feel pleasantly drowsy in the brisk kitchen.

"I'm thinking this new morning tea is a miss" you muttered as you glared half-heartedly at the leaf dregs of the delicious brew. The aching fatigue that had clung to you began to dissipate, replaced by a gentle drowsiness that weighed down your eyelids. A yawn escaped your lips, body responding to the tea's intended purpose. Izuku stepped close, closer than necessary, as he reached out to take the empty tea cup from your hand.

You held out the cup, your hand hovering in the air as Izuku moved closer. But it's in that moment, as Izuku inhaled the lingering scent, nose giving a small twitch, that his gaze narrowed with a sudden intensity. Your drowsy mind failed to register the glare of his emerald eyes, an indication of something more than casual curiosity.

"Why...do you smell like you fell in a damn bonfire?" Izuku's words carried a sharpness, a demand rather than mere inquiry. They sliced through the air, hanging there with a weight that is impossible to ignore. His voice had cut through the air with an uncharacteristic edge, void of the easygoing nature she had come to associate with the coworker facade he portrayed.

Your heart skipped a beat, embarrassment flooding your features as Izuku's question settled in. You were stunned for a moment, the truth of the situation hanging heavily on your heart. Of course, you realized, Izuku's hybrid senses would pick up the scent left behind by Katsuki last night. How could you forget?

Scratches, cum, and pheromones laid on you the night before when Katsuki sensed Izuku's touch from when he thanked you during training. His possessiveness in the bath had been clear, his words a promise of violence should Izuku dare to lay a hand on you again.

A knot formed in the pit of your stomach as embarrassment filled your voice, intertwining with a shard of defiance. "I...uh...had a bit of a disagreement with my room mate last night," you admitted, voice barely above a whisper. "But it's nothing to worry about, really."

Your admission threatened to tip the scales of the delicate equilibrium. Whether or not you were fully aware, the territorial boundaries have already been drawn between the territorial tiger and the love-mad hare. The situation a powder keg waiting to ignite, and Izuku the bastard he is, was going to make sure it blew up in the face of this “room mate” of yours.

Izuku's large hands swiftly found their place on your hips, his touch firm yet careful. In one fluid motion, he effortlessly lifted you clean off your feet and placed you onto the island counter. The contrast in your heights is stark, you find yourself still having to tilt your chin to look up in shock at Izuku. His long ears twitched with barely restrained irritation.

As Izuku's nose scrunched involuntarily, a mix of emotions surged within him. The scent of Katsuki, with its notes of cayenne, brown caramel, and smoldering embers, emanated from you like a provocative challenge even without a claim on your neck. To Izuku, it reeked like burnt sugar, an acrid aroma that didn't deserve a place within the confines of his shops.

His possessive instincts kicked into overdrive, an unwavering determination surging through his veins. He leaned down, his breath warm against the soft skin of your neck, his voice dropping to a low, firm tone. "You know," he began, his voice carrying a velvety cadence. "we can't have you smelling like that. It doesn't suit you, and it definitely doesn't suit this cafe."

“After all, who wants to eat in a smoky bakery?” Izuku finished as he knelt with calculated grace, his strong, muscular frame shifting closer to your exposed thighs. As he positioned himself between your parted legs, Izuku's eyes lock onto yours. In the short time you've known him, Izuku's eyes have never seemed this intense, brimming with an unwavering determination to claim you as his, to erase any trace of Katsuki's scent and replace it with his own. Your breath hitched softly, eyes widening at the audacity of Izuku's actions. Looking down at the fierce Flemish Giant between your thighs, you weren't sure you really wanted him to stop, consequences be damned.

Leaning back against the cold counter top, you let out a soft gasp as Izuku's lips met the inside of your knee. The contrast between the cool stone and the warmth of his mouth adds to the growing pleasure that courses through your body.

As Izuku's lips continued their path up your thigh, he deftly moved your cute underwear down your trembling legs. a shiver ran down your spine as the cold morning air kissed your exposed folds. The delicate material glided lower, clinging momentarily to your thighs before slipping over your uniform shoes.

Izuku's emerald eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he took a moment to appreciate the shade of green of the fabric. You're already wearing his color, he couldn't have planned it better himself. With a small grin against your soft skin, he quickly tucked your panties into his pocket, claiming another piece of you for himself while he distracted you with kisses and nips along your thigh.

Izuku's chuckle had a dark edge to it, tinged with an unmistakable sense of triumph as Katsuki's scent gradually began to dissipate. Your slick hole starting to carry the familiar fragrance of your usual jasmine, proof of Izuku's determined assertion of dominance over any traces of his new rival's presence.

With a deliberate and confident movement, Izuku pushed the bottom of your thighs up, hooking your ankles over his broad shoulders and positioning himself between your legs. His biceps barely flexed as his large tan hands gently scooted your hips closer to the edge of the counter, granting him better access to your tantalizingly wet pussy. The shadowy figures of your bodies blended together in the dark kitchen, the only source of light being the faint glow of the dark pink sunrise streaming through the skylight above. The faint rays of the sunrise dance across Izuku's face, highlighting his handsome features and the determination in his emerald green eyes.

Izuku's lips found their way to your tender slit, his tongue gently flicking and teasing your hooded pearl. The expert motions and the expert blend of pleasure and pressure elicited from his mouth heightened the sensations coursing through your body, intensifying your pleasure with each passing moment. Your taste was intoxicating to him, driving his desire further, as if he can't get enough.

Then again, he always did have a sweet tooth.

As his tongue hungrily slipped inside your aching cunt, suddenly the weight of Izuku's actions broke through the sleepy haze. Your mind flashed back to the conversation you had with Katsuki the night before, a warning that now echoed in your head. The realization hit you like a ton of bricks, "My room mate is gonna be pissed.” You groaned into your hands. The memory of Katsuki's threat looms in the back of your mind, a promise of violence should Izuku dare to lay a hand on you again.

Izuku lifted his gaze, a mischievous grin spreading across slick lips, as he locked eyes with you. His rabbit ears moved, playfully expressing his amusement. "Oh? And what is your room mate gonna do?" he retorted, a playful challenge in his voice. Without a hint of hesitation, he dives back down, his lips and tongue resuming their intoxicating dance against your sensitive folds and clit . He seemed completely unfazed by the threat, his confidence unyielding, a trait born of his secret life.

Even though the haze of pleasure, you hesitated for a moment, contemplating whether you should reveal the full extent of Katsuki's threat. Reluctantly, you gave in, letting the words slip out before your pleasure-addled brain could catch up. "He said he was gonna 'put you in the ground'," you admitted, lust thick voice tinged with a hint of unease.

Izuku's grip on your hips tightened, his possessive desire flaring again within him. The threat of violence from Katsuki barely registers as a deterrent. With a sinister glimmer in his eyes, Izuku responded, his voice laced with barely-contained excitement. "Is that so?" he murmured darkly, relishing the challenge "Let him try, I don't see a claim on your pretty neck." Without wasting another moment, Izuku went back to work, his mouth and tongue working diligently to replace any remnant of Katsuki's presence.

Feeling a sudden surge of mixed emotions—fear, excitement, desire—your hands had a mind of their own as they reached down lightly grazing over the soft, velvety texture of Izuku's rabbit ears. They quivered beneath your touch, responding to your exploration with an almost eager sensitivity.

As your fingers tangled in his forest green locks, you felt the warmth of Izuku's growl vibrating against your sensitive pussy, an intimate sound that resonated deep within you. The way his growl reverberated against your heated core sent shivers down your spine, making your swollen clit ache with need.

Izuku's mouth continued its relentless assault on your dripping cunt, his agile tongue expertly explored every hidden crevice, every secret fold, as if he was committing your every contour to memory. Each breathless moan that escaped your lips fueled Izuku's frenzy further.

For a moment, the tension in the air feels electric, a heightened awareness of the forbidden nature of your encounter. Despite the threat hanging over Izuku's head, he had explosive pleasure coursing through your body, casting an intoxicating spell over both of you. It's a dangerous game you've walked into, driven by the irresistible magnetism that seems to resonate between you and the hybrids in your life. The world around you seemed to fade away, the though of any brewing storm quickly silenced by the chorus of your erratic breaths and the wet sounds of Izuku's devouring lips.

With each passing moment, Izuku's own arousal became more apparent, his throbbing erection pressing insistently against the fabric of his pants, boxers already growing slippery with precum. The sheer desire in his eyes lit up the dim space, reflecting the hunger growing inside, as his tongue continued its wicked exploration.

As the sensations kept building, Izuku's nibbles along the sensitive skin of your inner thighs grew insistent, his teeth grazing your tender folds with just the right amount of pressure to send waves of tingling pleasure coursing through your veins. Each nip sends surges of electricity shooting up your spine, heightening your already stimulated state.

With a final, gentle nip, Izuku's attention returned to your swollen clit, his talented mouth engulfing it entirely, his tongue milking the pleasure from your body with a hunger born of his obsessive adoration.

The cold surface of the kitchen counter beneath you contrasted sharply with the scorching heat that consumed your being. It further intensified the sensations, making your body arch uncontrollably, craving more of Izuku's skilled tongue and the delicious friction against your dripping slit. As Izuku continued his tantalizing assault, a whirlwind of pleasure tore through you. Every touch, every lick, is electrifying, driving you to the edge of sanity and euphoria.

Your body responded instinctively to Izuku's ministrations, muscles tightening, drawing you closer to the precipice of your first orgasm. The familiar coil of ecstasy grew within, winding tighter with each flick of his tongue and gentle suction against your throbbing clit.

And then it happened—your climax hit you with an intensity that knocked the air out of your lungs. It crashed over you like a tidal wave, shattering any composure you still had and leaving you breathless and trembling. Your body quaked, as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you, drowning out rational thought.

As the echoes of your orgasm still shook you, Izuku didn't let up. His mouth continued to work its magic, prolonging the throes of your pleasure, drawing out every last drop of intoxication from your trembling body. The sensations are almost too much to bear, your mind spiraling in a haze of ecstasy as he licked you dry.

“Do I still reek?” Voice trembling, as you questioned whether the lingering scent of burnt caramel still clung to the air. But Izuku, always perceptive, noted the shift in your aroma, the return of your usual sweet jasmine-like scent. A return that happened a little too quickly for his oral fixation, to be quite honest.

A devious gleam danced in Izuku's emerald eyes as he listened to your words. He leaned back slightly on his knees, his chest rising and falling with his own ragged breaths. "Oh. Sorry, you still smell burnt," he lied with ease, a feigned apologetic smile playing at the corners of his lips. In this moment, he reveled in the idea of indulging his sweet tooth on the object of his obsession- You.

What was another white lie in the grand scheme of things?

Before you could respond, overcome with desire, Izuku plunged back down between your trembling thighs. The sudden latch to your swollen bead caused you to buck against the cold counter, your fingers instinctively tightening around the curls at the base of Izuku's rabbit ears, holding on for dear life. A sharp twinge of over-sensitivity mingles with the persistent pleasure, adding another layer to the overwhelming sensations.

Nose pressed against your mound, Izuku's tongue delved deep, searching for every trace of their intoxicating cum. His mouth moved with a fevered rhythm, his ministrations calculated and purposeful. His tongue speared through your slick folds, flicking and teasing as if he planned to consume every intimate drop. He couldn't get enough of your taste.

Meanwhile, your body danced on the edge of ecstasy once again. The contrasting sensations of pleasure and sensitivity, sent electric currents shooting through every nerve. With each movement of Izuku's skilled tongue, your hips involuntarily bucked and writhed, seeking more of that delicious contact.

As you came a second time, a loud cry escaped your lips, reverberating through the dimly lit space. The intensity of the sensation threatened to overwhelm you, nerves tingling with each tantalizing touch of his skilled tongue.

Izuku's own desire burned hot within him, waiting to be unleashed. Amidst your writhing against his face, Izuku's hips involuntarily jerked forward, another surge of precum staining his boxers. The feeling of the slick fabric against the head of his dick only served to increase his hunger for you.

As your thighs instinctively attempted to clamp shut around Izuku's head in a desperate bid to shield your oversensitive clit, his arms flexed, exerting a near herculean strength to keep them in place. With your back arched and thighs trembling in his hands, you were entirely at Izuku's mercy. It was just easier to surrender to the Flemish Giant's powerful hold rather than fight his iron grip.

Izuku's movements remained unyielding, a relentless pace that threatened to push you past the limits of pleasure and into the realm of cumdrunk ecstasy. In all honesty however, Izuku's own need fueled his actions, his tongue dancing deftly, exploring every hidden crevice with fervor. Maybe he was the cumdrunk one at this point.

“T-too sensitive 'Zuku” your plea for him to let up fell on deaf ears as Izuku wickedly ignored your words, except for the cute way you whimpered his name. Izuku could listen to you stuttering his first name in pleasure for the rest of his life. He took pleasure in pushing you to your limits, eager to indulge in his own selfish desires without hesitation. He had waited so long for this moment, he was going to get his fill. Or at least enough to satiate him while he made his claim.

"You can handle cumming for me again," Izuku insisted, his voice filled with dark adoration as he denied you mercy, before plunging back between your folds. Fuck, he loved you clamping down on his tongue like this, he only hoped you could handle all of him.

Your body quivered in response, overwhelmed by the heightened sensitivity of the onslaught on your swollen clit. Izuku's unwavering focus and iron grip left no room for escape or mercy. His tongue pressed skillfully, teasing and taunting your most sensitive spots, delving in with fervor and purpose. The taste of you, the intoxicating flavor that mingled with your heavenly musk, is like a drug to him, an addiction that drove him deeper into his feral desires.

Your body squirmed uncontrollably, overcome by the unbearable pleasure Izuku exerted on you. Every gentle nip and forceful suck sends you writhing. In desperation, your hands find solace in reaching the base of Izuku's rabbit ears, gently tugging with an almost desperate plea. Too much..!

But far from slowing down Izuku, the sensations of your tender grip on his ears only served to fuel his primal instincts. It's as if the touch of your shaky hands ignited a feral fire within him, intensifying the frenzied pace of his ministrations. His own need reached a fever pitch, his tongue dancing with an even more voracious appetite, ravishing every inch of your cunt.

Your body reacted uncontrollably to the overwhelming sensations, saliva escaping your lips as you moaned and whimpered in a haze of pleasure. Your legs twitching and trembling, but Izuku's firm grip prevented you from dislodging him, keeping you at his mercy.

The sound of Izuku eating out your soaked cunt echoed within the otherwise empty café kitchen, the lewd noises amplified by the decorated tiles. Your grip on the base of Izuku's furry ears tightened, desperation evident as you sought an anchor to ground herself amidst the waves of pleasure forced on you.

Driven by his feral determination, Izuku continued to devour you with a relentless pace. His imposing length now popping up and over the band of his slick boxers, yearned for release. As your squirms and whimpers grew more unrestrained, your body teetered on the edge of a precipice, ready to crash to a blinding climax.

As Izuku forced a third orgasm from your bullied clit, your vision faded into a hazy whiteness, the sheer intensity of the pleasure causing your consciousness to spiral into a realm of overwhelming ecstasy. Your mind became consumed by a kaleidoscope of sensations, blurring the boundaries of pleasure and reality. Your entire being is overwhelmed by the whiteout, a surge of ecstasy that drowns out all other thoughts and sensations.

You remained lost in your own world of ecstasy, mind blissfully blank by the overwhelming pleasure that coursed through your veins. In the midst of the pleasure-induced haze, you barely registered Izuku standing to his full height pushing 7 feet, his uniform khakis and boxers shifted low on his chiseled hips. His imposing figure cast a shadow over your flushed form. He reveled in the sight of your face caught in the throes of your cumdrunk daze, body trembling and clearly craving further gratification.

Who was he to deny you?

With another shift of fabric, Izuku's thick cock sprung forth, liberated from its confines, hardened and throbbing. His erection stood tall despite it's weight, demanding attention, the embodiment of Izuku's primal nature. Flemish Giants are big in, well, every way. If your mind wasn't completely blank right now, you'd probably be worried about how the monstrous girth could fit in you. A concern Izuku clearly didn't have.

With an unquenchable desire driving him, Izuku moved between your quivering thighs, positioning himself to align with your sopping entrance still twitching from your last orgasm. The immense size of his swollen cock head presented a challenge for your tight and unprepared opening. Your poor pussy's struggle to accommodate Izuku's massive girth sent shockwaves through both of your bodies, setting the stage for the battle between resistance and persistence. Don't worry, he'll make sure he fits.

The first few frantic and desperate tries by Izuku only drew a frustrated growl from the large hybrid. Your body strained to accommodate the overwhelming size of Izuku's cock, your senses overloaded with both pleasure and over sensitivity. But with a slick pop, the tip of Izuku's engorged member finally breached your entrance, forcing its way inside.

You remained blissfully lost in a euphoric haze, your body intertwined with Izuku's as he leaned over you. The cafe's dim lighting from the sunrise cast gentle shadows across the kitchen, highlighting Izuku's disheveled green curls and the captivating glow of his emerald eyes, resembling one of the rabbits forged from swirling shadows on the mural that adorns the wall.

Leaning over you, Izuku's dominant side asserts itself, swiftly pressing your knees up towards your shoulders. Applying pressure to open them wider, he exposed every inch of your quivering slit spread tight around the head of his dick. With a growl of determination, Izuku bullied his way further inside your depths, his larger size causing a twinge of pain as he stretched you to your limit to accommodate him. Your body struggled with the difference between him and Katsuki.

The sheer size of Izuku's cock, larger than even your room mate's, brings a mixture of pleasure and ache to your sensitized cunt. While Katsuki's barbs had their own unique sting, the contrast in size between him and the rabbit currently using you like a fucktoy induced new levels of soreness and bliss.

Izuku thinks he may have found heaven when he finally breaks in your pussy enough for his monstrous dick to bottom out against your cervix. Undeterred by your cunt's struggle, Izuku sets a rapid rabbit pace, his thrusts forceful and demanding.

The sound of their intertwining bodies filled the room, the wet slapping of Izuku's balls against your ass creating a rhythm that added to the sound of their escalating pleasure. Despite the stinging stretch, you remained freely vocal, too lost in your bliss to be concerned about anything else. Izuku's moans and your cries filled the air, adding to the sinful symphony.

As Izuku's large muscles flexed, his grip on the counter edge on either side of your head tightened, seeking leverage to thrust even more deeply. His forearms came to rest on the cold surface. Your knees were pinned again Izuku's chest, as each of his motions rocked your body forcefully against the stone counter of the kitchen island.

As Izuku continued his relentless pace, his large muscles flexing with each powerful thrust, his emerald eyes shone with feral bliss. Soft forest green ears were pinned back against his curls, a clear sign of his animalistic desire taking hold. Noticing your slightly pained fucked-out expression, Izuku found a sort of sadistic glee in your reactions. He couldn't help but revel in the sense of superiority it gave him.

No fucking way that crispy room mate of yours has ever filled you like this before.

"Aw, am I too big? Does it sting?" Izuku crooned huskily in your ear, voice filled with a twisted sense of satisfaction. "Fuck..! Taking me like such a good little pet- I knew you could handle it.” Even if his love is tainted by selfish obsession, he takes genuine pride in your resilience. Not everyone could take his bitch breaking girth the first time. Or at all.

You could only offer a weak nod in response to what little you catch of his words. Your walls clung to his thick length, the stretch more than you've ever experienced before. Yet, your blissed-out state allowed you to push through the discomfort of having your guts rearranged, exchanging it for a facet of ecstasy that only Izuku could provide. You were intoxicated.

The grip of your walls around his pulsing member further fueled his desire, his relentless pace never faltering. Your pussy clung desperately to his too thick cock, the force of each slam eliciting a a ragged gasp as he bottomed out against your cervix. His intense gaze locks onto your dilated eyes, drinking in every nuance of your cumdrunk expressions as you submitted to him completely.

For Izuku, this moment is the culmination of his desires since the moment you were hired at one of his coffee shops. His obsessive desire for you have driven him to go to great lengths, even "hiring" himself as a barista to get close to you. Now, his darkest desires are being fulfilled, the mate he craves finally within his grasp.

Fuck, he wasn't going to last much longer with you looking past him all fucked-out like that.

Intense pleasure coursing through your veins, you were overcome by the sensory overload of cumming again. Saliva escaped your parted lips, a shiny trail down the side of your chin. Your moans and whimpers intermingled with the wet, lewd sounds of your boss' thrusts into you, heavy balls accentuating squelches with quick slaps against your ass. Your gushing cunt walls attempted to tighten around Izuku's massive member with some success as you reached one last mind shattering orgasm. Your trembling pussy clamped down as best it could, Izuku thrusting all the while.

As he reached his own tipping point, Izuku's rabbit ears stood straight up, a visible sign of his peaking pleasure. “S-shit” He whined, your tight cunt was strangling his cock, causing his foot to bounce uncontrollably as he thrust as fast as possible. Each slam was met with the rhythmic spasming of your walls, clenching onto his too thick length with a desperate intensity. The sensation of your pussy clinging to his dick on every exiting pull, and the feel of his mushroom tip slamming against your cervix, was too much for Izuku. Driven by his unbridled desire, Izuku maintained his rabbit-like pace until the end, unable to resist the sweet agony of the tight vice that surrounded him.

With a deep groan of satisfaction, Izuku succumbed to the milking motion of your tight ring of muscles. The tip of his cock became engorged and sensitive, the pressure pushing him over the edge, the slit gushing forth with his warm cum. Pumping spurt after spurt, Izuku filled your womb with his seed, the pulsing sensation mixing with the raw pleasure that coursed through you both. One of his fuzzy ears cocked to the side, a visual display of the euphoria that engulfed him.

As with most rabbit hybrids, Izuku momentarily leaned all his weight on your pinned legs and his forearms, his body collapsing with the intensity of his climax. Your cunt walls stretched tight around his member still milked and clenched, coaxing every drop of his essence from within him. Overwhelmed by the influx of cum you could only moan brokenly in bliss, your consciousness long faded away during your last orgasm.

In the aftermath of your shared climax, Izuku remained trembling and breathless over your spent body, his emerald eyes still gleaming with a primal intensity, as he nuzzled your hair. The cafe was filled with the scent of your combined arousal, a poignant reminder of the powerful connection. A perfect mix of pine needles, yuzu zest and jasmine blossoms in the smug Izuku's opinion.

Much better than that burnt sugar bastard's stench.

Izuku needs a few tries to withdraw from your clasping cunt, before the head of his dick pops free of your pubic ridge with a final jerk of his hips. He hissed in oversensitive pleasure at the sensation of pulling free of your quim. Geez, were all humans this small on the inside? He wondered as his cum began to gush out of you. Izuku's viscous seed quickly flowed down your folds, trailing onto the cold counter top before beginning to drip onto the floor. He could definitely get used to that image. “You should get some rest” Izuku smugly beamed down at you before planting a soft kiss on your forehead, your lids heavy with fatigue. You could hardly fight the chemicals, both natural and otherwise at this point, from pulling you into slumber, and soon you lost the battle. He smiled as he heard your breathing even out, asleep.

Izuku's tea, and it's added ingredient, had taken longer to take effect than he expected. When he saw how exhausted you were, he had just intended for you to nap through your shift. Cuddle with your unconscious form under a cozy blanket in the autumn afternoon during his lunch hour, maybe. Izuku was so glad he'd been given enough time make you cry his name so prettily before you slipped into sleep.

In comparison to this morning, you looked so serene and relaxed, even after your intense encounter. Izuku leaned over you, his forearms resting on the cold stone, nuzzling your hair tenderly. His nose twitched, catching your mingled scents again, making his rabbit ears flick with delight. Izuku, hidden behind his gentle facade once again, wished he had “hired” himself sooner. He could have felt you shuddering around him months ago, but he vowed to make up for lost time now that you were already spreading yourself for him on his kitchen counter.

With gentle care, Izuku's muscular frame picked up your sleeping body from the kitchen counter. He cradled in his arms with a protective tenderness, mindful not to jostle you from slumber. He carried down the hall to the employee room across from the office, where a comfy jade couch awaited, a place for you to rest while he tended to the café.

As Izuku lay you down on the couch, your sleepy form stirred and before turning over with a yawn. Izuku would have stayed there, with his forehead against yours, all day. However, as the sunrise streamed through the kitchen skylight, Izuku became aware of just how late in the morning it was. With the sun coming up, he only had a few minutes until the coffee shop opened. He watched over you for a moment more, ensuring you were comfortably tucked into a cushy blanket, before he turned his attention to the café.

After all, as the owner of the 'Lunar Rabbit' chain, Izuku had responsibilities to fulfill.

Izuku is gonna be pissed when he realizes he left the pastries in the oven, but raspberry croutons are a small price to pay in the long run.

Comments and Reblogs make a difference!

yandere!nagi x reader, kunigami x reader

summary: when your boyfriend moves to argentina, your leftover life is more bleak than you'd imagined. Nagi's willing to spice it up for you, but he's not about to let your opinion of him get in the way of his own pleasure.

a/n - extremely dub bordering on n0ncon, but nagi is genuinely into you. nagi has a super super strong dacry philia k/ink, like SO strong. he doms but lazily. both nagi and kunigami are genuinely into reader. post blue lock at least a few years. choking, vio lence, threats. manipulation. reader's parents were alcoholics and she's shy and timid, a bit of a pushover if you dont like that then skip it. part one probably. angst, hurt comfort, smut, reader has a panic attack and nagi comforts her so sweet. this is dark content, have an age in your bio to interact minors dni

Nagi remembers the moment he realized you didn’t like him. It’s not the kind of detail he normally notices, and it’s even rarer for something like that to bother him, and while it’s true that it takes the first three months of your contract with his pro team for him to pick up on it, once it’s there the truth is undeniable. Glaring. 

It annoys him, honestly, to watch you stammer your way through an earnest conversation with a fucking benchwarmer like Raichi, and then give Nagi short answers that ensure the conversation doesn’t last longer than it needs to. With him, you’re professional, that’s it. But Barou gets to hear about your weekend, hears you sigh about the plant you just bought, and you’ll even argue with him about the merits of scented cleaning products. It grates on him when it feels compulsory that you scurry over to him during the scrimmage break. 

“Is your ankle okay?” You ask quietly, not drawing the attention of any of the assistant coaches or other players. Maybe this is why it bothered him, you were good, good at your job, good at whatever bullshit ology made you good at reading body movements, predicting mood and injury. You also know that any theatrics about a possible injury could get him benched, that he’d spent the last year jockeying with Barou for the top spot on the team, and a single missed game would be devastating to that goal. 

“Hurts a little.” He says, not bothering to look at you. “Not enough though.” You understand immediately. “Can I find you, after?” You look up at him, surprised. He didn’t seek you out often, and you had plenty of needy visitors, inquiring about gameplay, old injuries, and new ones. You nod noncomittally, confirming his little insecurity, going back to stand behind Barou and one of the defenders. The dark-haired forward turns around and says something to you that makes you laugh nervously. Nagi steams. 

He stares out across the pitch for a moment, ignoring the conversation you’re pulled between, one of the defenders snarls at a midfielder, you try to sidestep but immediately you’re called in as a subject matter expert on the play, on their movements, and he’s not looking or caring as you shrink from the huge men. One of the coaches steps in, practically knocking you out of the line of fire, telling them both to fucking walk it off and play better. 

Your hands tremble, so you shove them in your pockets. It’s not too cold on the indoor pitch, but you hate it, hate being yelled at, hate how they’re so eager to touch you, grabbing your arm and dragging you into the argument. You hate how you feel like you’re the only woman for a square mile, even though in your heart you know there’s someone at the reception desk. Even the other experts the team had hired were men, doctors, and professors of game theory. Your contract was up in two months, you reminded yourself, of course, this would be different without him. 

___

“This is your dream,”  you’d told him, hand still swallows in his. He hums softly, nodding. “I won’t um, if you’re gonna say you shouldn’t go because of me, I’ll tell you off.” Kunigami Rensuke raises a single eyebrow. 

“You, you’re gonna tell me off?” He grins. “I don’t think so.” 

“I will.” You say firmly, rocking up onto your tiptoes. He sighs. The two of you are standing on a little bridge in a suburb of Tokyo, the sun setting brilliantly in front of you, painting everything gold. 

“No I’m uh,” he swallows. “I’m going. For sure. To Argentina.” The lump rises in your throat. “And I know you can’t come with me, so don’t bother. You just started your career here. You literally only moved to Japan a year ago.” You nod, pressing your lips together, and he lets go of your hand, slipping an arm around your waist, and tugging you into his body. 

“When do you leave?” You whisper, with all the breath you can muster. 

“Two weeks.” He confirms, and the tears in your eyes spill over. “C’mere.” He grunts, as if you’re not already inhumanely close, he wraps his arms around you. “A girl like you, I’m sure you’ll have another pro-athlete boyfriend in a matter of hours.” His attempt at humor falls flat, betrayed by the pain in his own voice, the idea of you with anyone else tears at him. You don’t laugh at the joke. 

“Don’t you remember I broke my rule for you?” You say, and he looks down at you as the memory surfaces. 

“Ah, yeah,” he surreptitiously wipes his own eye. “Yeah.” He manages a smile with enormous effort. “Not sure I wanna see you with any of those assholes anyway.” He shakes his head. “Who the fuck am I kidding, I’m gonna have to fight the urge to throttle anyone who touches you.” That does pull a laugh from your lips. “They better behave, on the new team, when they rotate you. If they don’t you can call me.” 

“I’m sure it’ll be fine.” You wrap your arms around him, settling against his chest. “Let’s just think about right now.” 

“Okay.” He breathes. “Okay.” 

____

For the thousandth time this week, you miss Kunigami. You hadn’t realized how much his hovering presence forced his teammates to behave, to be polite, to not yell back in your face when you gently suggested a change in form. Your hands shake a little harder and you feel your heart race in your chest, barely managing to stave off the panic until the scrimmage ends, and the men thunder to back to their locker room. You were already dying for this contract to end, refusing to quit but lining jobs that would place you squarely back in academia. 

It felt like a failure. It felt like an admission of failure, that everything everyone had ever told you was true. Your legs carry you off the field, and down the hallway, but you don’t make it to your office before you start to cry, pressing yourself against the painted cinderblock wall, pressing your hand over your mouth to quiet the sobs. 

Nagi takes a couple of extra minutes to stretch, trying to reason with himself. What did it matter if you didn’t like him? Why was he even thinking about it, why was it interesting to him what you did, what you thought? He pushes to his feet and stalks off towards the door, wanting to refill his water bottle rather than heading straight to the locker room. He’s standing at the end of the hallway when he hears it, a soft, choked sob. He’s immediately hit with a wave of annoyance, followed by something else. 

He’d reasoned with it. Rationalized it. Even considered bringing it up to the expensive sports therapist that the blue lock participants had been given upon their release from the competitive program a few years ago. All the blood starts to rush below his waist. Some people had weirder things, he reminds himself, and it’s not that his dacryphilia bothered him, it’s that it was inconvenient. Hard to find in porn, even harder to find in a partner, but there was something about the softness and vulnerability of that moment, the way a woman’s lower lip would tremble, the way her face would swell slightly, and the big round tears that would fall from her eyes. Even better if she’d melt into him, let him touch her. He groans, barely keeping the sound inaudible. Everyone had their things. This was just annoying. Inconvenient. He wanted to shower, his body still sweat-slicked from the practice game, his muscles aching, but he’s got a problem now. And the problem is that you’re crying quietly down the hallway and even the sound of it is driving him to insanity. He could try, so what if you didn’t like him, he could try, women loved to be comforted-

“-Oh god,” you breathe, the air hitching in your lungs. “Oh my god, fuck.” You sob for real, the tears flowing freely. You cover your face with your hands, the abject sorrow breaking over you like an ocean wave. Your phone burns in your pocket. You could call him. He’d said you could call him. 

But he hadn’t called. Not since you dropped him off at the airport. Just a text that he’d landed okay, and he hopes you have a good day. Nothing. Complete radio silence. But you could-

Nagi steps around the corner and clears his throat. 

“Oh fuck,” you swear, flattening yourself against the wall. “Please don’t-” He takes a step towards you, no concern readable on his face. 

“What?” He asks, gesturing to all of you. You sniff loudly, wiping your face, sure you won’t be able to hide this from him but trying anyway. 

“Nothing, nothing it’s fine.” You start down the hallway and Nagi closes the distance between you with superhuman speed, taking your arm in one of his massive hands, and stopping you. 

“You’re crying.” He says, “It’s not nothing.” He watches you force an inhale, your lower lip trembling. 

“I just um, it’s hard,” you swallow, “I don’t like to be yelled at.” He nods slowly. “And um,” you wipe your face, “Sorry I just, just break up stuff it’s really not your problem.” He hasn’t released your arm, and he can feel your pulse racing under your skin. 

“Don’t be stupid.” He says, yanking you into his chest, knowing he’s sweaty and gross from practice and not caring. He wraps his arms around you anyway and feels you relax against him. He wonders if you can feel how hard he is and decides he doesn’t care as another little hiccuping sob bubbles out of your mouth, he can feel the vibrations in his chest. “Shhhh,” he breathes, comforting you like you’re an agitated animal. “You really don’t like it when they yell, huh?” You nod. He sighs. “They’re not gonna stop.” 

“I know.” You pull away from him and he almost doesn’t let you do it, he’s so strong, so much stronger than  you, he could- “My rotation’s over in a few months and I’ll do something else.” He balks at that. 

“Why would you do that?” He demands. “You’re good at this.” 

“I’m um,” the lump in your throat goes painful and new tears start to burn in your eyes. “I’m miserable Nagi, I’m so fucking miserable. All you all do is yell at each other, you and Barou spend every game at each other's throats, and all the other players snap at me even when I’m being helpful,” you take a shaky breath, “And, and I’m heartbroken and pathetic all the time, when I get home I’m so tired the only thing I have the energy to do is lie down.” You hide your face again. “You’re all so fucking entitled I don’t, I don’t wanna work with any of you ever again.” You shake your head and he realizes, that the last sentence isn’t a generalization. It’s about him. 

“You don’t like me because you think I’m entitled.” He repeats. 

“You are,” you wipe your face again and try to step away from him, but he immediately closes the distance between you. Your back hits the wall of the hallway. “You’re a trust fund private school kid who was born with a natural athletic gift that took you to the upper echelon of the sport without great effort, someone else had to drag you kicking and screaming into it. If you’re not fucking entertained by the team you’re playing you can only give it half your effort, you seem physically incapable of giving a shit about something.” You shake your head. “I,” you look up at him, and his eyes are dark and cold as he considers. “It’s fine, I’ll finish my rotation and leave.” You take another breath and wipe your face, trying to leave for a third time, and for a third time, he stops you, this time taking you roughly by the arm and pulling you back towards him, then pushing you back against the wall. 

“I seem,” he repeats, “I seem physically incapable of giving a shit, huh?” 

“Nagi,” he hears the fear creeping into your voice. “Come on, just let me-” He shakes his head, noting that the gesture alone is enough to stop you midsentence. He thinks about it for a moment and shakes his head again. 

“Lazy,” he mutters, “Entitled, shit,” he laughs but there’s no joy to the sound. “Yeah, I could see how you’d feel that way. But you’re not crying because you don’t like us.” Your eyes widen a little. “You’re upset because you don’t like it when big men raise their voice to you, huh,” he says, and he takes a half step forward, he’s uncomfortably in your space now. “Don’t like it when we snap back when we yell, betcha it doesn’t even matter if it’s not directed atcha?” You swallow. “That’s what I thought.” His eyes darken. “How many times have you cried on the bus home, on the train, because of us?” You look away. He reaches for you with the hand that isn’t pinning you to the wall, and you flinch when it touches your face. He ignores it, cupping your cheek and wiping at a tear. You swallow again, heart pounding. 

“Nagi, come on I have to go.” You glance down the hallway but know no one is coming, that no one can hear you, and that your office is the only one in this part of the building. He withdraws his hand and brings his fingers to his lips, sucking it gently for a second, and then he cocks his head. 

“No.” He says. “I don’t think you do.” You tug at the arm he’s holding in earnest, and he barely registers it. 

“I am not working right now,” you yank hard to no avail, “I’m sorry I’m not one of your fucking fangirls,” the fear in your blood makes you brave, singing a quiet steady song, “Let me go-” 

“Shut the fuck up,” he snarls, in a tone of voice you’ve never heard before, and his hand flies to your throat so fast you’re not sure you even see it move. He tightens his grip, holding you against the wall. “You think I give a shit about any of them,” he leans in close to you, as you start to gasp for breath, pulling at his hand and gurgling. “You’re the first woman I’ve ever met who could be fucking useful,” he spits the words, “And so it doesn’t matter if you don’t like me right now.” He relaxes his grip just enough for you to draw breath as more tears spill over your cheeks. He can’t stop himself, leaning in and kissing them off of you, groaning lightly. “I’ll make you a deal,” he breathes in your ear, causing blood to pool in your cheeks. “You be a good girl for me, and I’ll make them stop. I can make them behave.” You freeze and stop fighting. He relaxes his grip even more, letting you fall to the ground, watching you sputter and gasp, hands flying to your neck, rubbing the raw skin. He watches you, curled at his feet for a beat before squatting down, and patting your head affectionately. 

“You wanna try again, wanna try liking me again?” He asks, softly, knowing the answer. You nod, crying in earnest now. “You don’t wanna go home to your empty apartment.” He says, and it’s not a question. “Come home with me.” You sniff loudly. “You know which car is mine?” You shake your head. “It’s the silver Aston Martin.” He stands. “I’ll unlock it remotely. You get your shit, sit in the front seat and wait for me. Can you handle that?” You nod. He reaches a hand down to you and pulls you to your feet. “Did I scare you?” He says quietly, and you nod again. “Aw,” he cradles you against his chest, he smells like sweat and musk. “M’sorry. It’s hard to piss me off, you oughta be proud of yourself.” 

“I don’t wanna be alone tonight.” You whisper, and he rubs your back. “But don’t do that again, okay?” He shrugs but verbally contradicts the gesture. 

“Yeah, alright.” He hugs you tightly, pressing his face into your neck. “Bring something to wrap my ankle with.” He leaves then, jogging off down the hallway to the showers. You stand there for a few minutes, throat aching, shell-shocked. You float back to your office, taking your back and making your way to the garage with the cars. You find the silver one and at your touch, it unlocks, you sit heavily in the front seat, attempting to take a deep breath. You do something without thinking about it. 

You: hi sorry

You close your eyes, what time was it even in Argentina, would he even look at it? How much would it hurt if he never-

Kunigami: hey what’s with the apology You: I don’t know 

Kunigami: everything okay? I’m on my way to practice, it’s 5AM here. I can call? You: no it’s okay I dont wanna take up too much of your time

You: just wanted to see how you were doing 

Kunigami: yeah alright honestly Kunigami: miss japan, miss you, but the food here kicks ass you’d love it. Kunigami: dream job helps though. I think it’ll be an amazing season. 

You: oh wow!! That’s great to hear Kunigami: what about you, they treating you okay? 

You: ahhhhh

You: it’s probably a lot to text 

Kunigami: so let’s call this weekend and catch up. Plus I think I fucked up my shoulder, you can bill me for the time spent on the phone. Kunigami: stupid question but it’s gonna kill me if I don’t ask Kunigami: have you been dating You: oh god no 

You: I don’t care if that’s embarrassing. Kunigami: thank fucking god it’s been killing me Kunigami: picturing you with anyone else makes me want to put a fist through the wall

You sigh, hands shaking now with relief. 

You: same except it’s throwing myself in the ocean 

Kunigami: this is so fucking hard 

You: yeah

You: Dream job helps though, right? 

Kunigami: sure 

Kunigami: your job still dreamy? 

You: not without you, no. 

Kunigami: listen I’m almost at work, let’s talk this weekend. I missed the fuck out of you. 

You: okay <3 

You steel yourself, taking a deep breath and closing your eyes, leaning against the back of the seat in Nagi’s car. He’s another 15 minutes, sliding into the seat with practice, barely reacting to your presence. He presses a button and the engine hums to life, his hair is half-dried, and little tendrils of white cling to his forehead and clump together in his waves. He glances at your phone. 

“Miss your ex?” He says, and you scramble to lock the phone and hide the conversation. He laughs. “Did he used to keep the assholes in line for you?” He asks and you sniff loudly, closing your eyes and leaning against the car seat. 

“I can’t believe you choked me like that.” You mumble, and he shrugs, skillfully backing out of his parking spot and pulling through the garage. 

“You needed it.” 

“I didn’t!” You protest. “I didn’t and you scared me.” That makes him break into a soft smile, as he leaves the private garage it starts to rain. He reaches over and rests a hand on your thigh, rubbing a soft circle in your skin through your tights. 

“Better do everything I say so that I don’t have to scare you again, then, yeah?” He says, and you press your lips together. “Plus,” He shrugs, squeezing your thigh. “You know what’ll happen if you don’t.” You look at him sharply. “Oh,” He says, surprised, “You don’t?” He puts his hand back on the wheel. “I’ll make it worse so that you have to come crying to me.” He shrugs off your shock.  “What?” 

“Really?” You say, turning to him, and the sincerity in your voice knocks the air from his lungs. He’s able to recover in time. 

“Nah, I mean, I could but you’re not gonna make me, right?” He glances to the left and right before carefully making his turn. He puts his hand back on your thigh. “Come on,” he complains, “I’m a good guy, I’m gonna make you feel good, and save you the trouble of drinking alone in your apartment missing a guy who probably isn’t thinking about you.” Your chest aches and you scoot away from him. “Don’t be like that,” he complains, tightening his grip on your thigh, “Come here, like,” he pulls up to a light, and while you wait he arranges you carefully so that you’re leaning against his arm. “Like that.” He says. “See?”

“Mm.” You say softly, so tired from crying, your throat aching, the endless string of bad days has worn you down. You take his huge hand, and he softens. 

“I’m sorry it’s been so hard.” He says quietly. “Did something happen to you, like when you were a kid, dad raise his voice to you too much?” 

“My parents were alcoholics.” You whisper, pressing your face against his warm muscle. “Big tempers on both of them.” He hums softly. 

“You didn’t deserve that.” He rubs the softness of your thigh, delighting in the way you’ve crumbled in front of him. “By the way, I’m uh,” you detect the first traces of vulnerability in his tone. “A little worried about my ankle.” 

“Is that why you lost your temper with me?” You ask, voice barely above the hum of his air conditioner. Summer in Japan is disgusting, humid, and wet, and the rain picks up, hitting his windshield heavily. He shakes his head. 

“I just didn’t want you to go.” 

“And you’re used to getting what you want.” You finish the sentence. He shrugs the apparent insult washing off his back like soap in the shower. 

“I’m gonna make you say you like me,” He turns to you, a smile on his face that you recognize from the soccer pitch. “I’m gonna make you say you respect me,” that makes you laugh, “And I’m gonna make you say you think I’m hardworking,” you giggle, and the sound catches him off guard, “Plus I could tell you’re used to being handled roughly. You dated Kunigami, that guys got some anger issues for sure.” You shake your head. 

“I’m not discussing him with you.” You scoot a bit away from him. 

“Yeah,” Nagi artfully makes a left turn across a multiple-lane street with one hand, watching you watching him. “You think the way I drive is sexy.” 

“I don’t-” 

“You do,” He shrugs, “It’s okay to not like me but still think I’m hot.” He squeezes your thigh. “You’re gonna like me really soon, anyway so it’s not super relevant.” He frowns. “Go back to holding my arm, I like that shit.” You reluctantly cuddle up to him again. “Ankle first though.” He says. “Then I’m gonna make you say all that shit. And you’re staying over.”

“Am I?” You say, and he nods without looking at you. 

“Not like if I decide you’re staying you can leave.” He says, like it’s the most ludicrous 

thing he’s ever heard.   “What are you gonna do?” He rolls his eyes. “Outrun me?” Your hands shake a little and he reaches for them, taking both of them in his hand, releasing your thigh. “Don’t freak out, I’m a good guy. I’ll take good care of you. Betcha Kunigami would like that.” You shudder. 

“He wasn’t big on sharing.” 

“Mm, I’m not either.” He says evenly. “But I’ll earn that, don’t worry. When I’m through

with you, you won’t wanna fuck anyone else. That ginger asshole included.” He pulls up in front of an apartment building and catches the pained look on your face. “Aw, baby’s really heartbroken, huh? Sit tight.” He gets up and walks around the car, opening your door and helping you to your feet. “You look pretty.” He says, opening the door to his apartment building for you. He means it, something about the way you were just a little undone, just a little on edge, endeared you all the more to him. He whisks you up an elevator, watching you avoid eye contact with your reflection in the walls of mirrors. “Whatcha thinking?” He says lowly. 

“I’m trying to decide if you gave me a choice in coming home with you.” You look up at him, and the conflict on your face is genuine. 

“If you’d resisted I guess I would have had to find a way to make you,” he yawns, “But I don’t think it would have been unpleasant for you,” he shrugs, “You don’t date a guy like Kunigami because you’re uncomfortable being roughed around a little” 

“Does it bother you?” You blurt, realizing this is the third time he’s brought up your ex boyfriend. “That I dated him, and I don’t,” you catch yourself, “Didn’t like you.” He snorts at your obvious attempt to cover up the sentiment. 

“First of all, you do like me, you like me a lot, you’re gonna fix up my ankle and then I’m gonna hear you tell me how much you like me over, and over,” the elevator dings and he takes your hand, leading you into a hallway with only two doors, one on each side of it. He takes you down to the one labeled Penthouse A, and it’s hard to contain your reaction when he swings the door open. It’s beautiful, huge, and open concept with a wall of windows, a gigantic slab of marble that makes up the table, and the cabinets are black and gleaming. He grins at your reaction, slipping out of his shoes, and patting your head. “This is why you date first string, dummy.” He hits you lightly on the back of the head before collapsing on the plush leather couch, putting his foot up on his dark wood coffee table. It’s a huge tree stump covered in the varnish that only serves to highlight its natural imperfections in it. It’s a little uneven, and the stack of books on it looks purely decorative and untouched. “Get to work.” He says, and you nod, striding over and kneeling next to him, an action that makes him sit up just a little straighter. You take his foot in two hands, peeling his sock off. 

“It hurt while you were running?” You ask, and he nods. 

“Like a bruise. Soft pain rather than sharp. I can’t believe you noticed I was favoring it.” You nod, giving him a little smile as you press gently, looking for the tendon that was the usual culprit of these kinds of pains. “I was trying to hide it.” 

“I’m an excellent study of movement as well as character,” you straighten your shoulders. “I didn’t see you favor it, I saw you lead with it, which is not really your modus Operandi.” He rolls his eyes. 

“I took Latin, ya know.” 

“Ah yes I’m sure your fancy private school had Latin,” you press softly on his foot, grateful it doesn’t smell like the locker room, “French, Italian-” 

“And English.” He says, a smug smile on his face. “I’ve read Shakespeare.” He leans back. “Some poetry.” 

“Oh,” you look up, “Some poetry huh?” He grins even wider. “Bet that makes the girls swoon.” 

“It does.” He confirms, “What’s up with the ankle though?” 

“You have to rest it, it’s a repetitive stress injury.” You say, and he groans loudly. “If,” you hold up a finger, “If you rest it this weekend you can go to practice on Monday like nothing happened.” He breathes out a sigh of relief. 

“Wrap it for me.” He demands. “Then get up here.” You take your time, ensuring that the bandage isn’t too tight, and he sighs when you tuck it in. You climb up onto the couch next to him, and he wraps a huge arm around you, pulling you against his chest. He hums softly. “Actually,” he lifts you by the waist and settles you in his lap, so that you’re straddling him and facing him. He reaches for a throw blanket and tucks it around the two of you, then frowns. 

“What?” You ask. 

“You’re wearing too much.” He yawns. “We’re gonna nap, so go get one of my t-shirts.” He points down the hallway. You hesitate, and his eyes darken. “I don’t wanna have to make you,” he complains, shoving you off of him and standing. “Now you’ve gotta wear one of my jerseys.” 

“Nagi,” you start, and he waves away your words, lumbering down the hallway and returning a few minutes later with one of his extra game jerseys. 

“Is your skin gonna burn,” he says, shoving it at you good-naturedly. If you hadn’t essentially been kidnapped it would almost be cute. “Go change in the bathroom, I’ll see you naked soon enough, I know you’re not ready and I,” he yawns again, “Don’t feel like arguing.” You nod and disappear into his bathroom. It’s just as enormous as the rest of the apartment, even though it’s a guest bath, there’s a full tub and a beautiful sink with lots of counter space. You open his cabinets, generally snooping, finding some generic stale-dated antibiotics and an uncomplex skincare routine. You change quickly, swimming in his jersey when you step back out into the living room. He flicks his chin, some of his hair flopping out his face to look at you. “C’mere,” he grunts, and you obey, letting him fold his huge warm body around yours, “This is my favorite thing.” He sighs, locking his arms around your body, trapping one of your thighs between his. He spoons you, but only after ensuring you’re both covered by the blanket. 

“Hey,” He says quietly. “You’re still shaking a little.” He feels you nod, your face resting on his arm, your back pressed right against his chest. “Not cause you’re cold?” You shake your head. “You hate it when we yell that much?” 

“You don’t yell.” You say quietly. 

“And you still didn’t like me.” He tightens his grip on your waist. “You gotta know I could kick any of their asses.” He grumbles. “And that you’re safe here, right now.” You hesitate but in mind only, nodding outwardly. He kisses the top of your head. “Relax then.” He says, and you close your eyes, nuzzling into him. You’re not sure when you fall asleep, a few minutes before him, but when you wake your face is pressed to his chest, and he’s got one hand in your hair and the other around your waist. You’re warm, and deeply at peace, feeling loved and held for the first time since Kunigami left. He hums needily when you move, holding you in place. “You’re so soft.” He mumbles, and you see a slight flush on his cheeks from how you’re sleeping. He turns you away from him again, reaching under your shirt and palming your chest through your bra. You let out a soft sigh and he presses his cock against your ass with a groan. 

“Nagi,” you breathe, fuck it, fuck it, this was stupid, he was a dick, but he was here, and if he was here you didn’t have to think about work, about Kunigami, about- he cuts off your train of thought by reaching under your bra and pressing a burning kiss to your neck. 

“Like that,” he mumbles, lips moving up the column of your throat, “Sound so desperate when you say my name.” He reaches between your legs, into your panties, “Say it again.” He parts your folds and easily finds your clit, rubbing at it softly. 

“Nagi,” You breathe again, his free hand coming to rest on your throat. “Nagi, I-” He tightens his grip, cutting off your breath completely. You squirm, eyes watering at the pressure, and the mounting pleasure in your body. 

“Desperate,” he grunts, “How bad do you fucking want it?” You gasp, he doesn’t let you have enough air to breathe to respond. “So stupid already,” he tightens his grip and then you feel him push two fingers inside you, “Soaked. Thought you hated me?” You make some kind of noncommittal gurgle and he gives you a break, letting you suck in a sharp quick breath before the pressure returns. He fucks you with his fingers first, scissoring them and watching you gasp and squirm, but when tears prick at your eyes he groans, yanking you roughly underneath him. He tosses his shirt off and pulls his cock from his grey sweatpants. It’s long and thick, matching his sculpted frame, and the tip is a soft pink, leaking a little as he pumps it, running his thumb sover the tip. 

He lets out a short huffy breath as he eases inside you, cupping your teary face with one hand, bracing his weight with the other. Your legs are tossed over his shoulder, and when he leans down to kiss you with surprising tenderness. He watches your eyes shoot open at the stretch, your lips part as he starts to fuck you, leaving you so empty when he withdraws, that you dig your nails into his muscles back. 

He moves slowly, rolling his hips against yours, fucking you lazily, teasing your clit with his hand, bending down to suck and bite at your nipples, delighting in your glassy faraway expression, and he’s almost surprised when you cum, when you clench down on him, walls fluttering. 

“Next time,” he says, growling into your ear. “Ask me. I’ll tell you if you’ve earned that shit.” You whimper in response, you’re soaking, and he can feel it, can feel how badly you need it, can feel the way your nails are digging into his back, can feel you kiss him back when he leans down. “Tell me you like me,” he murmurs, and you squirm. “Tell me how much you like me.” 

__

He leans down and kisses you, blissfully exhausted, draping his body over yours. His hands move to tangle in your hair and his arms lock around you. You sense that he’s about to drift off to sleep, so you start to squirm. 

“What?” He mutters. “Stay still.” 

“I have to pee.” You whisper, and he groans, reluctantly letting you stand on trembling legs and walk to his bathroom. You splash some cold water on your face after washing your hands. You look at your reflection, disheveled, eyes wild, hands shaking. You run your fingers through your hair, the entire experience had been deeply disorienting, did Nagi expect you to come back and cuddle with him? After that, after choking you like that? Your mind flies again to your ex-boyfriend, and then you swallow, feeling the dull pain in your throat. Nagi would let you leave, you decided. As long as he let you leave, that means you had a choice, that means you could think of this as a mistake, as a weak moment. You swallow, taking a deep breath and closing your eyes, pressing your palms to the counter, it’s cool and grounding. You straighten your shoulders and step back out into his luxe apartment, sighing with relief when you hear Nagi’s soft snores, see his huge frame draped over the couch. 

You tiptoe past him, stepping back into your clothes gingerly, feeling more and more like this is something you could rationalize. You’re halfway dressed when he opens half an eye, frowning. 

“What are you doing?” He says, glancing at the coffee table where you’ve folded his jersey. 

“Ah, just heading out.” You say, heart rate picking up a little. He raises his eyebrows, standing and stepping back into his boxers. 

“Nah,” He towers over you, it’s impossible not to note the difference in your size, even when he’s a few feet away. “Stay,” He reaches for you, pulling you back into him by the waist. “I’ll order us takeout.” You pull gently but he doesn’t let you go. 

“Nagi,” you say softly, coming back to honesty. “I feel a little weird, about this.” He cocks his head. “Like, weird about us hooking up.” 

“Oh,” He says, as he understands immediately, “Oh,” he runs his fingers through his hair, “Oh of course, of course, you do.” You blink a few times, stunned at his sudden burst of self-awareness. He gives you a soft, genuine smile, “I didn’t mean to like, make you feel used or weird,” he leans down, cupping your face with his hand, stroking your cheek, and your heart drops to your stomach. “It’s not just a hookup to me, don’t worry.” He presses his lips to your forehead. “I get it, you’re a relationship person. I’ll take you to dinner, just nowhere too loud because-” 

“N-nagi,” You stammer his name, genuinely pulling away from him, and he lets you go, confusion flooding his features again. “It’s not that I feel used,” you say, embarrassed as you lose your cool, your voice rising in pitch. “It’s, it’s that you pinned me to the wall by my throat and then, then told me to get in your car and I did, and then we had sex, and I don’t,” you start to get dizzy, the panic pulling you from reality. “Nagi, I, I don’t feel good.” You draw in a shaky breath, suddenly you’re freezing and burning at the same time, face hot body cold, and then they switch. 

“You’re having a panic attack,” you hear him say, but it sounds like his voice is miles above the surface of your mind. You try to swallow, and try to breathe, and find neither is a reflex you have control over, tears burning in your eyes. You barely feel him pick you up, laying you on the couch and lifting your legs in the air, rubbing a soft circle in your calf. “I’m here,” He says, and there’s a raw desperation in his voice as he feels his cock twitch in his pants, but there’s more too it. He feels it, that clawing ache, he wants you to reach for him, to be comforted by him, “I’m here,” he wants to be enough for you, to restore your breath, even though he’s the one with the power to take it away. “I’m here, and I’m real, I’m here for you.”

His voice carries in your panicked state, and your brain struggles to interpret the sentiment behind that information, a statement of a fact, or threat, or reassurance. It takes a few minutes of gasping, but your body, something physical latches onto his presence because when you sit up you reach for him. Something brittle inside Nagi breaks as your little hands fly out and reach for his, as he pulls you into his lap, kissing at your tears. 

“Tough day,” he murmurs, “Lots of yelling, right?” You nod, and he squeezes you. “I’m here, you’re mine now, I’ll take care of ya.” You shiver at his words. 

“I don’t,” you look up at him, “I’m not ready to date really.” Your teeth are chattering, you’re still visibly trembling. He rolls his eyes at you. “I’m s-serious, you have to let me leave.” 

“I mean,” Nagi shrugs. “No I don’t actually, I don’t have to let you leave, and actually,” his grip on you tightens. “You like me, remember?” 

“No-,” you squirm, still half crying. “No I don’t.” 

“Shhhhh,” he rocks you back and forth, “You’re so cute, but you have to breathe okay, just focus on breathing for a little and don’t think so much,” he kisses your head, “Shhhh.” You sniff and focus on breathing. “That’s my girl.” He tips your head up so that you can meet his grey gaze. “So we’re gonna clean you up, I’m gonna order us food from somewhere nice, I’ll take ya out tomorrow, we can go anywhere you want.” He senses your hesitation and leans down, kissing you tenderly on your trembling lips. “C’mon,” you hear him say, speaking right into your mouth, “Kiss me back.” At the moment, you obey, and he hums softly, feeling you move your mouth against his, concocting some kind of pseudo rhythm that your body keeps to much better than your mind does. “I’m here,” he murmurs, kissing down your neck, “I’ll keep ya safe,” he starts to tug your blouse off, and feels you stiffen. “You wanna stop?” He pulls away from you, and you shake your head a little, getting whiplash from the way he suddenly respects your consent. He holds you again. “Okay,” he breathes, “Just breathe for me, I’ll uh,” he laughs, “You did already make me cum, but fuck, seeing you like this, I could go again. You wrap your arms around his neck, making a decision. 

It was nice, nice to be held, and if he would make things easier for you at work, you could figure this out. You could ride whatever this was out until the end of your rotation and then bury yourself in another job. He cradles you to him until your heart rate calms. 

“Jeez,” He laughs lightly, standing while still carrying you in your state of half-dress, walking into the kitchen. He sets you on the counter. “Guess I gotta be careful with you, yeah?” He squeezes your waist before pulling back and wetting a paper towel under warm water. “You want a safe place to land,” he says softly, “That’s okay,” he starts to wipe your face with the warm towel. “We’ll use a safeword, alright?” You swallow. “You just say yellow, if you want me to slow down,” he takes his time wiping your smudged mascara. “You say red if you want me to stop, alright, and I’ll stop,” he pulls away, setting the paper towel on the counter. “And if you really wanna go, you can go, I guess.” 

“You guess?” You whisper. He shrugs. 

“You’re not gonna be the first woman who doesn’t want it from me,” He makes a face, “Not when I can tell how bad you want it.” 

“I didn’t-” 

“I don’t care.” He informs you. “I like you.  You admitted you like me.” You swallow. “Come on,” he mumbles, kissing you softly, and then pulling away, pressing his forehead to yours. “I’ve liked you forever. I’ll be nice, I will be.” You nod and he hugs you tightly. “You okay?” He asks and you shiver. 

“No.” You whisper. He nods. 

“Will sitting on the couch with me holding you help, maybe?” He asks, and your chest aches, your heart aches, your throat aches, you’re hurt, and your tired. You nod dumbly. You could do this. Could take advantage of this. Just till your rotation with his team was over. You could make the best of this. He plucks you off the counter and carries you to the couch, letting you cry softly on his chest until you fall asleep. He tangles his fingers in your hair. 

“All mine,” he hums. “All mine.” Your jaw tightens, and you think of the real owner of your heart, at this hour he'd he hard at work at the gym, stretching carefully, talking to his teammates. "Shh," Nagi breathes as he feels you tense up, "Shhhhhh. Relax."

✩ ˛˚ . GOJO SATORU — sometimes your boyfriend’s want for you just seems to be insatiable.

ஜ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ warnings! f!reader, mating press, breeding, biting, he loses control of his technique a teeny tiny bit at the end, im going absolutely insane. ♡ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ note! hiii this is a lil mix of my gojo thoughts over the past few months, my sanity is slipping as u can tell <3

the way gojo satoru was in bed was exactly how he was in real life, absolutely merciless when he wanted to be, you realise with the dizzy haze in your mind and the pillow he’s shoved under your hips. there’s a pleasurable burn in your thighs where he’s got them folded into you, your ankles dangling by his ears as his hips press into your ass and the way he looks over you is needy, and a little wild.

but he only really got like this on on a few occasions, like after a gruelling mission, a boring mountain of paperwork or maybe you’d been teasing him. sometimes he’s just consumed by the idea of you carrying his kids— he’s so incredibly insatiable.

“you feel me right here, sweet thing, hm?” the snowy haired man above you hisses with a languid roll of his hips, deliberately pressing into the sweet spots inside of you that he always seems to be able to find so easily. but you can barely breathe, nevermind answer with how full you feel — your warm walls twitching around his heavy shaft before he’s giving you a few more thrusts.

“don’t hold out on me, it feels good, right?” gojo goads, chuckles when the next particularly deep kiss of his cock along your insides has your lips parting to moan, eyes squeezing shut as you wriggle underneath him.

“‘ts too deep, satoru! fuck—“ you manage, voice breaking under the weight of your own arousal but shit— he loves you like this. pliant and pretty and all his. you’re basically begging for him to give you his soul, to pour it into your body and your bones until you’re twitching— his stamina was limitless after all, an endless pool of energy.

“oh? but i’m sure you can take more..” gojo’s words are a low drawl as he curls over your folded figure, making your muscles scream for some sort of relief but he still manages to give you more. he begins a pace that’s so deep, so animalistic that you feel like you could black out with the way the pleasure rips through you, making your body clap against his as his balls smack loudly against your ass and suddenly he’s even deeper.

“see, i knew it.” it’s smug despite the the trembling undercurrent to his tone, breaking under the weight of his own arousal as his voice takes an octave higher. but you’re doing so well for him, your eyes are rolled back— lips parted and you’re basically begging for him to go harder when he leans into press his lips against yours, pushing his name between your lips as your hands grab at him for any sort of relief.

“almost there, right?” gojo groans against you with the next quiver of your walls; the next particularly heavy thrust makes your thighs tremble and he’s so deep it almost hurts, making something spark and burn along your inside as he fucks you into the mattress like a wild animal.

you whimper, barely— it’s a desperately pathetic little sound, wound up tight and it makes him pull away to look at you, crystalline eyes cloudy with lust before his lips are stretching into a smirk.

“oh, more?” gojo’s head cocks to the side and you know you’re done for when his pace picks up, every heavy thrust is driven by the muscles in his body and your pussy squelches loudly with every wet connection of his hips.

“oh, i’ll give you more, baby. so greedy f’ me, hm?” despite his teasing, he’s babbling— sweat beading along his skin as the snowy peaks of his hair frame his flushed features and fuck, the pretty sight above you only makes you feel even better. you’re so high off his desperation, every muscle in your body screams under his but the nerves in your body cry even louder with how good you feel— with how much your body craves him.

“‘ts so tight, you milkin’ me, sweet girl? how many you want, huh? give you as many as you need. wanna see you swollen f’ me, you want that, mhm?” gojo’s barely coherent but his words only make you squeeze around him tighter— a silent little invitation as every thrust has you crying more, more, more! satoru, want your cum—please! punched out little gasps and cries as he digs the orgasm out of you.

“oh, you’ll look so pretty f’ me—f-fuck!” his huge body is looming over yours, pressing you into the mattress and the pillows beneath you. your thighs are flush against his abdomen and chest, and your lungs feel like they quake on every exhale as your lips part to moan. he presses himself into you— face nuzzling into the crook of your neck as he grazes his teeth along the skin there, headboard screeching loudly in time with every smack of his hips.

“‘toru, please please please—‘m g’nna,” you tremble as you shake beneath gojo, thighs tensing tight against his body and he knows he’s got you exactly where he wants you as he smirks against your skin. your orgasm hits you so suddenly, so hard and good that your toes curl where they hang over his shoulders, your body stiffening beneath him and the first milking compression of your pussy makes his pace stutter, hugs him so tight he can’t help but bite so hard into the sensitive skin of your neck he draws blood.

“should see h-how pretty you look like this. tell me ‘ts all mine, y’ gonna make me a daddy, yeah? g’nna fill you up so good. oh, this pussy’s made f’ me, ain’t it?”

his body trembles as he pulls back slightly to watch your cream pool around the base of his cock, your slick smeared along his skin and your walls still throb with every unforgiving push of his hips. your orgasm feels like it stretches on forever as you gasp out broken yeah, yours, love you so much ‘toru, waves rolling through your body with the heat you feel pour and sting along your nerves. it only takes a few more clapping thrusts and your choked confessions before hes kissing you, just as he likes as his lips curl into you.

gojo cums hard, thick and heavy inside of you when he feels your tongue push against his, swallowing both of your groans into the kiss as he pushes his load into your puffy cunt. you’re both so lost in bliss, so unaware of the electricity across your boyfriends skin and the uncomfortable pressure that seems to suddenly weigh down on your intertwined bodies.

the bedroom light flickers but you don’t notice, he’s slurring curses against your lips as he almost pins your thighs to your chest completely, the air between you seems tighter— atoms trembling in the finate space. but he’s continuing to fuck into your sensitive pussy with tiny little thrusts you don’t notice the creek of your furniture as it twitches out of place— like it’s being pulled towards you both. the small flickers of purple fizzle out when you’re both spent and he’s collapsing on top of you with a low, breathy chuckle, making you whine with the cramp you feel in your body.

“‘toru! you’re heavy.” you grumble, voice worn and scratchy but it doesn’t move gojo as he cuddles deeper into you, leaving sweet little kisses along your skin with obnoxious kissy noises— a stark contrast to how filthy he was being a second ago.

you’re both breathing deep as you give up trying to escape from underneath him, opting to press your fingers through his damp hair instead before he finally moves. he pulls back, enough for his cock to push his cum out of your pussy as he does, squelching and dripping into the mattress beneath you both as you jolt slightly. “careful, ‘ts messy, ‘toru.”

gojo whistles lowly before he looks at you again, one of your legs still haphazardly thrown over his shoulder before he’s placing a sweet kiss to your ankle, then following it up with a painfully languid, experimental thrust as his crystalline eyes focus on the mess he’s made of you.

“come on, sweet girl. you’re not nearly full enough f’ me yet.”

© 2023 GAROUJO. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.

𝐂𝐖 ♱ 18+! werewolf!Toji, afab!reader, heavy breeding kink, panty sniffing, male masturbation, pregnancy mention + use of “pups”, the man is feral what can i say. a continuation of this [1.1k] 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 ♱ this is messy and unedited and ummmm yeah don’t look at me

the whole “good boy” thing doesn’t really do it for toji, but he can’t deny that being your dog has its perks. free room and board, a comfortable place to sleep, plus you’ve got him on one of those fancy homemade diets where you cook ground turkey and veggies and shit.

does he feel bad that he’s basically using your home as a hideout from his bookie? mm… not really.

honestly, this was all supposed to be temporary. the plan was to shift into wolf form and drop himself off at a no-kill shelter, then just stay there until everything blew over. like a vacation — at a really shitty, smelly hotel. but then you came along and wanted to adopt him. and you were a cute little thing with a cute little house, all attentive and sweet. plus, you seemed lonely.

so, he thought fuck it. and now he’s been with you for quite a big longer than originally planned.

and that’s not really that big of an issue, except that spending so much time in this form has started to have some… interesting effects. toji has always been pretty good at keeping a hold of himself when he’s shifted, but the animal in his brain has become harder and harder to ignore.

you don’t know it, but you’re currently ovulating.

the first time he smelled it on you, it was nothing more than an itch in his brain. something he was aware of, but not overwhelmed by. now, though, after months of spending most of his time as a wolf?

toji is starting to lose his fucking mind.

so he shifts back into human form — his real form — every once in a while, when you’re out of the house. he reasons that it’ll help keep the wild thing in his brain at bay. but, mostly, he does it so he can get a bit of fucking relief.

because he is a man, after all, and it’s been a while since he’s gotten any.

he’s also an animal, and he knows it’s been a while since you’ve gotten any. he can smell how badly your body needs it.

he can smell it right now, with you crouched down in front of him, your knees spread, cooing at him and sticking your fingers in his fur. it’s coming off of you like steam, thick and suffocating. he’s fighting the urge to stick his snout right between your thighs so he can breathe it in even more. then you’re wrapping your arms around his neck to give him one last hug, and your scent is so fucking good, so fucking fertile, he’s fighting the urge to turn his face and sink his teeth right into your shoulder.

all these sick, instinctual urges are growing even louder than his own thoughts with each passing day. so when you finally rise to your feet and spin your keys around your finger, telling him in that sweet tone of yours that you know he’ll be a good boy, he’s already thinking of all the ways he won’t be.

he’s bounding down the hall and rising to his full height as soon as the front door clicks shut.

toji knows he can’t stay here much longer. living as a wolf, as your wolf, is making him crazy. he’s becoming territorial, losing his sense of self. so, even though it’s likely gonna break your poor little heart, he has to leave.

but what’s the harm in getting one more whiff before he goes?

sprawled out on your bed wearing nothing but a thin sheen of sweat, toji presses your dirty panties to his face and takes a deep, rasping breath.

fuck.

his fist moves over his cock in quick, messy motions, sending sticky globs of fluid to land in the thick curls decorating his pelvis and lower abdomen. he’s hairier than usual right now, a dusting of black all up his chest and down his thighs, like he got stuck mid-transformation — another side effect of living as a wolf, he’s sure. it serves as a great catch-all for the dewdrops of sweat, and the mixture of spit and pre he hurriedly smoothed down his shaft.

he fills his lungs again, fills his lungs with you, and bucks his hips up into his hand. he’s got his eyes shut tight, teeth gritted and brows pinched like he’s in pain — and, honestly, he is. it’s fucking agonizing, how badly he’s aching for you. his belly is on fire, his dick so rigid it could cut glass, and every time he breathes in his chest burns something fierce.

but he doesn’t really notice any of that.

because all he can think about is how badly he wants to fuck you. how badly he wants to breed you.

you’d take him so fucking well, he knows it. the pretty lips of your cunt spread around his girth, stretching wide to take his whole cock the way he knows you need. you’d cream all over him, coat him in all that honey he knows you’re producing right now, make it so fucking wet that he’d be able to slide right in. you’d make the cutest little noises for him — he’s heard them, actually. late at night, with your door closed and that toy vibrating into the night. those little sighs and moans — he could make them louder, more guttural. he could make you scream for him.

he wants to bury himself so deep inside you that you gasp. and wriggle, and scratch, and clench around him. he wants to hold you down, with your knees up by your ears, give you his full weight and his whole cock, and just listen to you whine.

and then he wants to clamp his jaw around your neck, right at that delicate little slope where it meets your shoulder, and make sure you can’t move while he unloads himself right into your womb. he’d give you so much, press the tip of his dick up against your cervix and then flood it with his seed. keep you folded in half and just keep fucking it into you, as deep as he can, make sure he gets you pregnant with his pups.

you, pregnant with his pups — the image flashes in his mind like lightning.

with a low, scraping growl, and his teeth baring down on the fabric of your panties, toji cums hard all over his stomach.

but his hand doesn’t stop, and his erection doesn’t go down. he laps at the seat of your underwear, high on animal instinct and the raw, musky smell of you, and keeps jerking himself off to the thought of breeding you. it’s not enough, he thinks, he can’t stop — it’s not enough.

fuck, he might just be too far gone.

𝗡𝗢 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘 𝗙𝗢𝗥 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗪𝗜𝗖𝗞𝗘𝗗 *+:｡.｡

summary. “I’ve known Geto since we were kids, and trust me when I say that he’ll fuck you and forget about it.” | wc. 3.5k+

cw/ tw. fem!reader, college au, fratboy!geto, slightly dark content, obsessive behavior, smoking (not by the reader), frat parties, dubcon, cherrypicking, degradation, jealousy, slightly yandere, deception, pet names (ex. pretty girl, baby), intended for 18+ readers

an. I haven't posted in what? two weeks?? maybe three? and I'm surprised people are still following me after how dry it's been on here...heh (thank you if you stuck around while I was away). enjoy a repost, comments and reblogs are appreciated ༉‧₊˚.

You met Geto at a frat party Shoko dragged you to after listening to you complain (for the third time that week) about classes and a paper due next month—and you couldn’t say that you were too upset about it now that you were standing beside him. 

He was twice your size. Easily a head taller than you, which had your stomach twisting into neat little knots.

Geto was the type you’d usually avoid and admire from afar. Because rich, popular guys like him didn’t have time for unspecial girls like you. But he too easily derailed that thought without doing more than flashing you a smile.

It should be disconcerting how openly you were staring, not even trying to hide how your eyes traveled from the perfect bun atop his head to his broad, slightly tanned chest. His open, silky, short-sleeve button-up revealed a necklace dangling low around his neck and a glimpse of a tattoo that started at his ribs and trailed down beyond his shirt.

You almost felt a little underdressed, standing beside him in just a cropped sweater and tennis skirt.

“Hey, I’m Geto,” he said. 

His voice was nice. Low and sweet. Sly, in that way most guys like him tend to embrace after years of getting what they want.

Then you realized he had been talking to you, the corners of his mouth curling as he stared at you expectantly.

Embarrassment swam through your veins as you shyly gave him your name before shifting behind Shoko until the heat in your face melted away. Geto's lips twitched, bringing his cup to his mouth with a hand covered in rings—you wanted to disappear into the floor.

It wasn’t until after he plied you with a few fruity drinks, your head a little fuzzy and less anxious, that you relaxed around him, swaying on your feet towards him instead of away. The slight buzz had words easily falling off your tongue, and you were surprised to find that he listened instead of going glassy-eyed the longer you went on about classes and your work study.

Your fourth cup in, you followed him into the corner of the living room on a lumpy old couch where Geto sat with you in his lap—you weren’t even sure what you were talking about anymore—while he took long drags from a blunt you let him roll up on your thigh.

He offered you a hit, which you politely declined, and he pulled you along with him when he leaned back further into the couch, his voice close humming along your eardrums and his lips softly brushing against your ear.

Geto turned his head to blow out another hazy cloud of smoke before leaning in to ask if he could taste your drink.

“S-sure,” you breathed shakily, about to give him your cup, only to freeze when he kissed you instead.

He chuckled when you released a startled squeak against his mouth—the faint smell of weed on his breath fanning across your face and making you slightly light-headed. Then his tongue sought out yours, and the taste of mint and cheap vodka graced your tastebuds. 

You sighed, subtly rubbing your thighs together, and before you could even return the kiss, he’d pulled away with a wry smile.

“Tastes good,” he hummed, a warm hand gently running along your thigh. Your tongue ran over your bottom lip, and you watched his gaze track the movement. “Can I have another?” 

You were already leaning in before he could finish asking.

He texted you while you were hunched over a petri dish in the lab on Tuesday. 

Then, while you were studying in the library a week later—another victim to you venting about your paper, though it felt like he made an effort to understand—after a long shift and bus ride home, followed by a steady succession of texts for several days straight. 

You thought he was sweet, in his own way—little things that made your heart flutter like butterfly wings and stomach bubble with anxiety because this was bound to crash and burn. But one crooked smile, and you suddenly forgot why guys like him were off-limits.

Sometimes, he’d bring you coffee after long nights of studying, and it made you sway on your feet whenever he’d tuck hair behind your ear after it fell out of place.

You’d find yourself pressed against your soft bed whenever Shoko wasn't around while Geto licked away the little whimpers dripping from your lips. Some days it went further than that, where the messy grinding and needy kisses weren’t enough, and his hand would tease up your skirt to smooth over your drippy-wet cunt through damp underwear. 

However, it didn’t go beyond dry-humping and heavy petting because—

“I’ve never done this before,” you admitted softly, staring up at your speckled ceiling. Too afraid to see the look on his face until the hand still delicately wrapped around your throat suddenly forced your gaze back on him.

It was as if something about him almost shifted, dangerous, eyes as dark as pitch in the soft light of your bedroom lamp. But it dissolved with a syrupy smile as he squeezed your hips. “We’ll take it slow, okay?”

The amount of trust you had for him after only a couple of weeks should be alarming—

You grin at him instead of thinking about it too much. A dumb and foolish part of you held onto the fact that he promised.

And you believed him.

Or wanted to. 

“Slow,” you agreed, kissing the edge of his mouth.

A month goes by, and you could only keep the secret from Shoko for so long before she finally caught you smiling like a love-sick idiot over a text Geto sent one day. She wasn’t as upset as you’d expected; she almost seemed disappointed.

And that was somehow worse.

She warned you not to take anything seriously that came out of Geto’s mouth because he had a habit of running the same script on every girl he met.

“I’ve known him since we were kids, and trust me when I say that he’ll fuck you and forget about it,” she told you, pointing her coffee spoon in your direction.

“Oh.”

Shoko reached over and patted your shoulder at the look of dejection on your face. "I just don’t want to see you get hurt, alright?”

You turned over Shoko’s words in your head because you knew this.

Part of you knew all of this. And yet…

And yet, Geto made it easy to forget.

He texted you that night, inviting you to a party his frat house was throwing.

Are you coming? 

You told him you needed to study for a test coming up. Shoko insisted you go to it anyway.

At the party, you scanned the crowd for a familiar head of dark hair until you got dizzy from turning your head so much. And just when you were about to give up and leave instead, you spotted him from where you stood in the archway to the kitchen, and what you saw had your heart sinking bitterly into your stomach.

It shouldn’t have come as much of a surprise after what Shoko warned you of—how you already knew that he had an assortment of red flags dangling around his head like thick drapes since the moment you met him.

But you hoped that maybe…well.

You watched Geto share a blunt with the girl in his lap, that familiar crooked smile curling his mouth as cherry-red lips wrapped around the end.

Some of you wondered if someone else had looked at you with the same amount of pity when they witnessed you falling so easily for Geto’s soft-spoken words and recycled pick-up lines—the sweet, shy girl who didn’t know any better ensnared in a neatly woven trap.

He caught your wide-eyed gaze from across the crowd with his bloodshot one, though you didn’t stick around long enough to see what he did after that because you were already walking back home.

You were a bit heartbroken, or that was what you called it, for the first few days—ignoring the texts he’d send late at night and leaving for class earlier than usual to avoid bumping into him.

Avoiding him was more difficult than you thought since his friends ran in the same circles as your roommate. And lately, he seemed more interested in movie nights, or somehow, he always needed to borrow notes from Shoko for a class.

Those days, you sat next to Gojo when there was nowhere else to sit in your cramped living room—none the wiser about the fact that Geto had a strained relationship with your new couch mate.

At parties, you no longer paid attention to where he was in the room, choosing to hover by Shoko and her girlfriend the entire time. It was only during a moment of misplaced curiosity that you finally looked over, already finding Geto’s darkened gaze on you, sneering as you talked and laughed with other guys.

Decent guys.

This game of cat and mouse went on for two more months: Geto trying to get you to notice him, and you acting utterly oblivious.

Because it was easier this way, and eventually, this will all get brushed over and become nothing more than a minor slip in your decision-making.

It bothered him for reasons he couldn’t put into words. He could have a different girl warming his bed almost every weekend, and before he met you, he never batted an eye when they stopped talking to him once they found out that he wasn’t interested in anything other than sex.

Yet, here you were, taking over his every thought like a fucking disease.

He saw you walking around campus with guys that were nothing like him—guys that probably didn’t get high five days out of the week, that willingly took you out on proper dates, that bought you flowers and walked you to your door—then he’d creep onto your Instagram and get annoyed by the new number of male friends liking and commenting on how pretty you were.

He shouldn’t care. He didn’t. Really.

But he did.

Geto wondered if you held out for them as you were so hellbent on doing with him or if one of them managed to taint the innocence you wrapped yourself with before he could.

That put a sour taste in his mouth, one he couldn’t wash away with shots of cheap vodka. And after he watched you leave the party with a guy who looked like he didn’t know what to do after getting your underwear around your ankles, Geto decided he needed to find out.

That was one of the worst dates of your life, by far, since the guy didn't even show up. All night, you earned pathetic looks from the restaurant staff while you sat at your table set for two.

What an asshole.

He would get an earful whenever you saw him in your Psych class on Monday. You’d make sure of it.

You washed off your makeup and sticky hairspray, hoping a warm shower would help brighten your sulky mood.

Your soft, fluffy towel was at least a small comfort as you stepped out of your steamy bathroom to get a change of clothes. Only, you stopped dead in your tracks at the sight of Geto lounging on your bed in a black hoodie and grey sweats—his long legs hanging off the edge so he could spread his knees, accentuating the very obvious bulge between his thighs.

He gave you a wry smirk when he caught you staring. 

"Should learn to lock your doors, sweetheart. Never know what kind of creep might sneak in."

Finding him sitting on your bed, uninvited, should terrify you more than it did, and all the alarm bells going off in your head clearly indicate that you should tell him to leave instead of standing there clutching your towel to your chest.

"What are you doing here, Geto?" you asked quietly.

He blatantly ignored your roused suspicion, unable to stop himself from thinking about how cute you looked, skin soft and dewy from the shower you just took, a scowl painted on your features. 

Fuck. He wanted to ruin you, to see how flustered you could get, no matter how many cheap praises he whispered into your ear.

Although tonight, he was set on seeing what you hid behind a thin layer of fabric, finally having what he’d been craving for months. You just needed a little encouragement, that’s all.

Because he was tired of waiting.

Geto sat up, then, now so close that he could reach his hand out and grab your towel. And he did, tugging you closer and watching in amusement as you stumbled between his spread knees on coltish legs.

Finally, he met your gaze: "Isn't it obvious why I’m here?"

You swallowed. "Geto, I—"

He watched your confidence crumble a little when his hands snaked up your thighs under your towel, up, up, up until you were shivering underneath his fingers. 

"I-I made it clear that I didn't want to talk to you anymore."

His brow arched. "Yeah? You don't want to talk to me?” He swiped a thumb through your folds, and you gasped in shock, trembling. “Then why are you so wet?”

Geto could tell that you wanted to deny it, even as he pulled his hand out from under your towel to show off your shiny arousal clinging to his thumb, the pink string lights hanging around your room making it more glaringly obvious.

“I-I’m not—”

“I-I’m not,” he mocked meanly. 

His eyes swam with the same flicker of intensity he showed you that day you told him you were a virgin. Although this time, it swallowed his gaze entirely—the soft brown of his irises washed away by something that had your body betraying you with another rush of slickness between your thighs.

“Get on the bed, pretty girl. Leave the towel on the floor,” he said under his breath, patronizing. “And don’t make me say it again.”

Your back was in an uncomfortable arch as Geto curled over you from behind, large hands gripping your hips tight enough to bruise.

“What do they have that I don’t, hm?” 

You ignored how your stomach plunged at the mere fact that he might’ve been jealous, that perhaps he cared just a little.

“Bet you were whoring yourself out for them, huh?” He sneered, grasping your hair and tugging so you were looking up at him upside down. The odd angle had you wincing in discomfort, and he laughed humorlessly. “You know what I think? I think that you’re secretly a little slut.”

“N-not a, ah, not a slut.”

He slapped a hand down against your ass just to hear the sharp cry he knew you couldn’t hold in, enjoying the pretty picture of tears prickling the corners of your eyes. “Liar.”

“M’ not,” you pleaded as the impact of the next blow against your tender flesh had you gasping for air, your empty cunt clenching almost painfully.

Geto smoothed his hand over the curve of your ass, smiling when you flinched. You looked so fucking wrecked, and he hadn’t even done anything yet. “Prove it then,” he said. “Prove that you’re only a fucktoy for my cock.”

You wracked your brain, head too dizzy with how fast this was happening to think properly—

“K-kiss me first,” you babbled.

"How about you beg me first," he threw the word back in your face. 

You didn't answer—everything you wanted to say was choking up in your chest. The smile Geto gave you was uncharacteristically sweet, yet it didn't meet his eyes, and he laughed. “Or are you too dumb to think already?”

“Please, kiss me,” you sniffled, lips wobbling. The sight made Geto’s cock twitch.

So fucking pretty, he thought.

You knew he would at least give you this when his eyes slightly softened.

Then his mouth was on yours. Heavy and unforgiving, teeth clacking and nipping at your lips. The familiarity of his lips soothed the overwhelming feeling in your chest and made you feel like you were touching the ground again. 

He always made your brain scramble whenever he kissed you, turning thoughts into air. And you didn’t even realize that he was lining himself up with your entrance. 

His cock heavily slid against your slit once, twice. Up and down, and back up again. You whimpered when he nudged your clit, parting you open slowly. It nearly gave you whiplash with how gentle he was being compared to how he treated you moments before.

"Open up for me, baby."

It was embarrassing when you parted your knees, showing him a part of your body that nobody else had seen before—

"Ah!" you squealed when he unexpectedly pushed in to the hilt, your walls straining to accommodate the new feeling of fullness and trying to push him out. You cried and squirmed in his hold—the stretch too much as you took big gulps of air to make room where there wasn't.

"Huh, looks like you still had a cute little virgin cunt after all," he grunted, jerking deeper inside.

Geto didn't even give you a moment to adjust to his length before he was roughly pounding into you, his balls slapping against the sore flesh of your ass. And all you could do was lay there and take it.

He loved this part, feeling a virgin pussy stretch around him for the first time. It made his stomach twist and his head fuzzy—he swore it was better than getting high.

Suddenly, he shoved you into the mattress, his hands pressing against your shoulder blades to prevent you from moving. The new angle had his cock going deeper, pushing against a soft spot deep inside you that felt nearly devastating when his tip hit it again and again.

Your thighs were shaking, no longer able to control the lewd noises leaking from your lips. The tight coil in your abdomen had you twitching, only coiling tighter as Geto continuously abused that sensitive spot in your cunt. It was so overwhelming and intense that you nearly burst when Geto reached between your legs to play with your sticky-hot clit.

It twitched violently against the rough pads of his fingers. "'m gonna—"

"Shut up," he sneered, his voice dangerously low before shoving your face further into the mattress with a hand at the back of your neck. "Shut up and cum."

No sounds left your mouth, your body seemingly obeying his command. Your thighs clenched, trying to close, but his broad body prevented you from pushing him away. And then—

“Fuck —look at that,” he groaned as you felt a gush of liquid spray between your legs, splashing his thighs and getting the blankets under you sopping wet. All you could do was sob, overwhelmed by how fast he made you cum.

He gave you a rough thrust, a long whine slipping out of your throat. “Gonna fill this pussy nice and full. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

With your face pressed into your comforter, it prevented you from shaking your head no; the only sound coming out through the mouthful of cotton is an mmph, nearly choking on your own drool.

“I’m ‘gonna make sure everyone knows you’re mine—shit, keep squeezing me.” He released a feral moan. "Just like that! Good girl."

Geto held you still, his mouth attaching to your shoulder to muffle the loud groan rumbling in his chest as his balls twitched and drew up almost painfully. His hips pressed flush against yours to cum as deep as your cunt would allow, trying to make it stick.

"Fuck," he panted.

Afterward, he tangled you up in his arms, his soft cock still nestled in your snug, tacky-wet walls. Cuddling was the last thing you expected, but you decided not to bring it up lest he got upset.

Nor did you say anything when you noticed the small bloodstain on his grey sweats after getting dressed and his slightly bruised knuckles pulling the cotton up over his hips. You never brought it up, not even as your date from Saturday showed up to class with a suspicious swollen lip and a black eye.

And you didn't ask if Geto wanted to hang out after class. It had just been sex—a one-time thing.

He'd already gotten what he wanted and left. That was always how this would play out: no extra dates or late-night texts. Guys like Geto didn’t do str—et cetera.

You knew this. 

You knew.

However, the dark look he shot Gojo when he pulled you into his lap for movie night could make you believe otherwise, that maybe it was more than sex—

—it was probably best just to keep your mouth shut.

A few weeks later, Geto muffled low groans into his shirt caught between his teeth as he fisted his cock to a picture of you—because you were avoiding him again. 

But that was okay, silly, that you ever thought you could. He already had it planned out how he’d have you again, and just the thought of feeling your tight cunt wrapped around him had Geto painting his stomach white.

‘𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐲 𝐜𝐮𝐧𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐬’

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: everything the reader has consented to ahead of time! pure smut, monster fucking, role played breaking & entering, kidnapping (moving to a secondary location), masked ‘unknown’ robbers, established relationship with satoru, planned kinky event, knife play, blood, marking, name branding, biting, toys, hunting/chasing, some fear play, drugging, manhandling, blindfolding akak bag on head, some light bondage, begging, heavy degradation/some praise/taunting/teasing, dumbification/mind break, light cervix fucking, double dick!suguru, double dick!satoru, light semi-public nudity - you're carried to the car naked in the middle of the night (not caught), reader quickly loses all shame and just wants to be pounded and passed around, triple stuffing reader's cunt, anal, anal fingering, some anal prep, suguru has his tongue pierced, reader gets turned into a succubus, pussy slapping, they are mean but kind of sweet at times, one face slap

𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐡: 20 minutes - 5.7k

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧: anything fucked up with geto, gojo, toji shiu?

A loud bang and the glass of your balcony door shattering jolts you awake. You barely have time to register how it happened a muscular masked man is pinning you to your bed, holding a knife to your neck. "Caught ya." Your heart pounds as he glides the knife’s tip to your collarbones. There's a cunt soaking thrill to the cool knife's sharp edge.

He croons, "Your little heart is beatin’ so loudly doll, ya scared?” He's massive, weighing heavily on your thighs.

Fighting the urge to writhe when he drags the blade across. Increasing the pressure till your skin splits and a bit of blood beads up along the wound. You're moaning, it's whiny and needy.

Grabbing his wrist, digging your nails in. His gaze drops to your lips. "Sounds like ya enjoyed that, moan like that again n' you'll get my cock hard." Trailing the knife up, towards your neck, tilting your head back into your puffy pillow.

The stinging pain is going straight to your cunt, making her tingle. You're barely able to shift your hips, or even close them. Keeping them spread apart, his clothed cockhead rubbing your clit.

He pulls his mask up, groaning. Your cunt clenches from the obscene deep sound. The moonlight shining through the broken window illumines a beautiful, scarred smirk. Your eyes widen as four sharp fangs emerge, stretching to their full length.

You want him to bite you. He lifts your short nightgown with the knife's tip. “Aw I found a pretty dirty slut." Stopping beneath your breasts, giving you a short, shallow cut. "N' here I thought I was just gonna get some dinner then leave." He grinds his hips, rubbing your bare puff clit with his cock. "You're sweet ass has dessert for me."

His thin sweatpants barely separate his cock from your cunt. He's warm and thick. Rolling his hips, gliding his cock head along your slit. Biting your lip, holding back a moan. Fantasizing about how deep his fat cock could split you open.

He moans, "Lemme hear your pretty moans, don't be shy now when you're creamin' yourself over me.” Licking your wound, his tongue unnaturally cold. You shiver, grabbing his shirt and pulling him closer. Whimpering, lightly grinding your soaking cunt on his thick, hard cock. His weight on your thighs keeps you from freely moving.

Grazing your neck with the sharp tip of his fangs. Tilting your head to the side, eager for him to bite. "You're too easy, want me that badly already." Roughly biting down, his four fangs in your neck shouldn't feel so good.

Spreading your fingers, groping his hard pec. Digging in your nails, he whines roughly grinding his hips. Sliding your hand down his washboard abs, he flexes, the lines defining his abs deepening. "Beg n' I'll let you have my fat cock after I drink my fill." Leaning back, shifting to straddle your hips. Letting you grind your hips better.

Another man states, "Can smell her dripping wet cunt downstairs." The man turns on the overhead light, walking over to stand at the side of your bed. Your body flushes with heat at how you're found. Grinding your bare cunt on a masked intruder's clothed cock. With your nightgown halfway pulled up.

The white masked man croons, "Poor horny little slut, so desperate for some cock. Is Toji teasing you too much?" Toji holding the knife to your neck doesn't stop you from turning your head to look at the second intruder.

Admiring their sculpted, muscular pale chest, and beautiful v-line leaning into his dark gym shorts. His cock is hard, standing up straight, his gym shorts straining over his head. Fondling his cock, moaning, his veiny hands inked up to his mid-forearms. With an ancient language, you've seen pictures of inscribed stone stabs in history books.

He yanks your dress up over your breast. Toji dips his head. Sinking his fangs into your breast, flicking your nipple with a cold tongue. Groaning when your warm blood trickles into his mouth.

Grabbing a fistful of his dark hair, pressing your thighs together. Grinding your sloppy wet cunt, his cock head catches on your tight hole. At this angle, his thick cock head won't slip it. Whining, twisting your hips, reaching out to jerk the second masked intruder.

He steps out of your reach, slipping his gym shorts down. His cock pops out, standing up, long, pale, and veiny. Toji moves the knife, holding it next to your fast. Switching to your other breast, biting next to your nipple. Which he pinches to hear you whine.

When the other beautiful man comes closer you smear his pre-cum with a swirl of your thumb. You can feel his quick heartbeat in his puffy veins when you firmly squeeze his cock.

A third man gloats, "Told you she'd be a freaky slut." Standing on the other side of the bed. His long dark hair is in a messy bun. He looks down at you with condescending dark eyes making your body hot and your cunt wet.

Sneering, "Already she's grinding her needy cunt on his cock, when we just busted in." He takes the knife from Toji, who grabs his cock swiping your clit with his head. Tugging his hair, he pulls away, blood trickling from the corner of his lips.

Gathering your blood on your thumb, holding it to Toji's lips for him to lick clean. "Satoru she's not even questioning what we are, why we are here. What we are going to do with her." Toji slips your finger out of his mouth, leaning back. Stilling his hips, leaving his hard, veiny cock pressed to your soaking wet cunt, clenching.

Satoru croons, "Pretty pathetic little slut." Your cunt clenches around nothing when he lets out a breathy, needy whine. Jerking his hips, swirling your hand, pumping your hand faster. Swiping your fingers over his sensitive pale pink head.

Questioning them, "What of it?" The third man slides the knife beneath your chin, adding pressure. Roughly swallowing, biting back your attitude. "I'll be good, don't care what you are, we'll figure out how to put something in somewhere." Satoru snickers, sliding his cock out of your hand.

He tugs his shorts up and unfolds a dark cloth bag from his pocket. Toji grabs your wrists, quickly binding them together with rough rope. He moves to the side, yanking your body up by your bound wrists.

The bag is swiftly placed over your head, tightening it around your neck. Ripping an airhole for your nose and mouth. Nudging your lips, you open your mouth for someone's long thick fingers. Swirling your tongue around them till they glide them out.

Toji rips through your sleepwear grumbling, "Fuck your shitty nightgown." Roughly yanking you off the bed. Unexpecting the sudden tug and unable to see you stumble on your feet. Getting yourself thrown over a shoulder, and a rough smack on the ass.

Jerking, whining, "Harder! Please! I'm beggin' for it, want you to make my ass sore." Earning a painful, sharp smack, your cunt flutters. You're aching for more sweet stinging pain as it settles to a warm ache. You can make out the shape of his hand.

Carrying you down the stairs, turning towards the right. They are taking you towards the front door. You'll be outside naked and bound with a bag over your head. You're too horny to be embarrassed. Reasoning it's too late for anyone to be out.

Toji swears, "Damn Satoru you did a number on this door. Don't think any is left on the frame." Thinking twice about protesting over your apparently busted front door. Due to the precarious poition you in with these three men.

Shivering in the cool night air, you hear a car door open.

Satoru reasons, "It shouldn't have looked ugly." The car softly purrs, coming to life. Another car door, he slips you off their shoulder, roughly shoving you into the car. Like you're an object they're storing in the back.

Your face plants into the cold leather. Shifting in the seat, momentarily struggling with your hands to sit upright. When one grabs you by the bag on your head, tugging you up right. The ties keeping it secured on your head dig into your neck until he lets go.

Begging whoever, "Lemme choke on your cock." You hear them shifting in their seat. He pushes your head down moments later. A thick warm cock head nudging your lips. Opening your mouth, groaning around his head, swirling your tongue.

Laying your tongue flat, taking his fat head, thicker head than the one previously in your hand. Toji momentarily holds your head down, gagging you. You'd fondle his balls if your wrists weren't tied.

You hear the soft pulsing of a toy. Eager for Satoru to play with your soaking wet cunt you put your ass up in the air. Satoru spreads your lips with his fingers. "Dirty slut doesn't even care where she's bein' takin." Gliding a thin, pulsing dildo into your cunt. Its head is a small tip, gradually thickening.

Moaning around Toji's cock, clenching the toy. Its soft bumps on the bottom stroking your sweet spot. Satoru groans, "Suguru can we keep her? She has her pretty little glory holes in my face " He pumps the toy faster, purposefully angling it down. Ensuring to stroke your sweet spot to make your cunt fluster.

Trembling, folding your arms, propping yourself up on your bound clasped fists. Bobbing your head faster on Toji's cock. Suguru decides, "You'll have to turn her, vampire or incubus doesn't matter, otherwise you'll break her before the sun rises." You hear the car rev as he speeds up.

Satoru grabs your ass, digging in his nails, biting your other cheek. Toji's cock muffles your whine, he holds your head down. Forcing you to take every inch, burying his cock deep in your throat. Your eyes water, jaw aching from stretching so wide to take him.

Gliding his cock out, roughly breathing. Toji questions, "Whatya say, wanna be our pretty cock sleeve succubus live on taking our cum. Think it's fittin' with how quickly you started groping my tits n' grinding your sloppy cunt on my cock." He rips the hole in the bag wider, spitting on your lips.

Licking your lips clean, pleading with them, "Turn me into a pretty cock sucker you can keep around to stuff full of cum." Satoru pulls you onto his lap, the inhuman dildo pulsing in your cunt. Sitting in his lap keeping the toy stuffed in deep.

Your cunt spasming, clenching the toy. Satoru yanks your head back by the bag on your head. Biting underneath your collarbone, his fangs are shorter than Toji's. With only two on top, the sharp pain becomes a sweet tingle.

Your body becomes hotter, and the intensity of the heat concentrates between your legs. Soaking Satoru's gym shorts, rocking your hips, shifting the pulsing toy in your needy cunt. Pulling away, licking the drops of blood welling up from the small inflictions.

You moan, unable to think of anything as you're overcome by incomprehensible horniness. "Nng!" Satoru moves you to straddle his hips. Yanking you by your neck, arching your back, biting your breast by Toji's previous.

Crying from the short-lived searing pain, then an intense wave of pleasure akin to cumming has you trembling. "Aren't you giving her too much, don't wanna kill her before we have our fun." Satoru grabs the dildo, fucking your sloppy wet cunt,

Giving you a couple pumps before your overly sensitive cunt gushes. Soaking through Satoru's gym shorts. He groans, licking the wound, scraping your nipple with his fang, Biting beneath, injecting you with more venom.

Your eyes roll back, and your body quivers. You can feel your heartbeat in your cunt. Your slick trickling down your thighs. Satoru fucks your sloppy, sensitive cunt with the dildo faster. Licking up to your clit, suckling and groaning.

Pulling away with a pop, "She can take it like she's gonna take both my cocks." Satoru ribs the bag off your head, roughly kissing you. Slipping his tongue into your mouth when you moan. He tastes of blood and strawberry lollipops.

Suguru roughly pulls the car off the road, parking it. "Out. I'm not listening to both of you have fun while I get blue balls." Satoru pulls away, gliding the dildo out. Turning it off, holding it up your lips, ignoring Suguru's demand to get out of the car.

Licking it clean, wrapping your lips, gliding it deep into your mouth. Pumping past your lips, groaning, "You pretty lips are gonna look good wrapping around my cock." He slides it out of your mouth with a soft pop.

You hear two doors slam shut one after another, leaving Satoru and you in the car. He cradles your head, it's spinning. Resting your head in his large hand, your cunt drooling on his lap. Clenching around nothing, you want to cum again despite squirting.

Satoru urges you, "That warmth," another gentle kiss, "The horniness don't fight it. Let it take over, you can be my beautiful greedy little cock whore for centuries." He trails kisses along your neck.

Slowly sinking his fangs in, jolting, whining from another injection. Placing your bound wrists on his thick pecs. Wishing you could run your fingers through his soft-looking snow-white hair.

"Wanna be your favorite cocksleeve." Your gums momentarily ache, your teeth making room for a pair of sprouting fangs. Satoru pulls away, pushing your top lip up with his thumb, crooning, "Aw already getting fangs." He drops his hands to the rope around your wrist.

Without thinking you lurch forward, biting into Satoru's neck. The car door opens, and Toji sneers, "Some kidnapper you are, clinging to her while she sinkin' her fangs into ya neck." Satoru groans, holding the back of your head, fondling your squishy ass cheek.

He groans, "Nn harder." Biting his thick pec with the possessive intent of marking him. "Is it really kidnapping when the slut would've walked out the door with us if not for the bag on her head." Satoru's blood is sweet, filling your mouth. You should be repulsed but can't help but drink another mouthful.

Three men bust in shirtless, with beautifully muscular bodies and within seconds you were thinking with your needy cunt. He wasn't wrong. You'd happily let them carry you off to wherever and keep you for however long if you got your cunt pounded by them.

"Bet she wouldn't but still, she was only meant to pretty blood bag. N' we couldn't risk our pretty dinner knowing where she's at." Toji grabs your hair, pulling you off Satoru. His blood trickles down his chest, following the middle groove of his abs.

Smiling in a lustful daze, "She's too beautiful to let go." Thick black horns sprout from his head, contrasting his bright hair. They twist in a loop, pointing back. His features sharpen, eyes glowing similar to his tattoo. Which spreads up his arms, onto his pecs.

Toji pulls you back for Satoru to step out of the car, shutting the door behind himself. "We both bite each other, that means once I fill her sloppy cunt full of cum, I'll be hers'." The large pale moon in the skin illuminates Satoru's beautiful blushing face.

His smile is breathtaking, this beautiful incubus will be yours. You could taste his lust vanilla and honey. Toji lets go of your hair, dropping on your knees in front of Satoru. Looking up at him, pleading "I want to make you mine n' cum on your cocks. Wanna be yours." Satoru pushes his wet shorts down. He has two beautiful long, pale cocks, both of them standing up.

Suguru pulls you to your fist, slicing the rope, and freeing your hands. "I told Shiu we are hunting the slut we found." Twisting you around to face the spare woods. "By the time she finishes her head start he'll be here." Harshly slapping your ass, making you stumble forward. Leafs crunch beneath your feet.

The initial intense haze of the venom first affects level out. Helping you to latch onto their words with better clarity than before. Which your cunt throbbing with an unbearable neediness infringes upon.

You need to cum, it's borderline painful to not have one of them playing with your cunt. Slipping your fingers between your legs, rubbing your clit. Clenching your thighs together. Moaning, "Whoever gets me first decides who gets to go when! Don't make me wait too long!" Missing the stimulation, the second you stop touching yourself.

Darting into the woods, the trees pass you quicker than they should. You've seen bright full moons in the past, but this was unlike anything else. You could see the bark, moss, rocks, and branches clearly. Acutely feeling the leaves crunching and the damp earth.

Pushing yourself to run faster when you hear a thunderous crack of a tree splitting in two. It doesn't hit the ground until a few minutes later, knocking over several more trees.

Were they fighting each other to get to you? They might not be beyond throwing a few punches towards each other. At any moment one of them could show up, pin you to the tree and do what the wished. Whilst you'll beg them for more.

Struggling to stop, kicking up some dirt. Standing in front of you is a handsome man with a scruffy face, holding a cigarette. "So you're the pretty little thing we're playin' with. Shame to end the game now, run." Taking a step back, the wind picks up carrying the subtle scent of his lust.

It's similar to a bittersweet mixture of dark and milk chocolate, with a hint of sweet caramel. He's mouth-watering, his must be Shiu. He's making no move to catch you, admiring you in the moon light taking a puff off his cig.

"Run." His demand reminds you at any moment the other three could catch up. Taking off running past him, biting into your bottom lip. Hoping one of them would catch you soon and use your mouth and cunt.

Breaking out of the tree line into a wide clearing of tall yellow flowers. A cabin lies on the other side of a large glittering lake. Toji stands in the field's center, waiting for you. Taking off towards the right, the back of your neck tingles when he's about to grab it. Trusting your instinct and ducking, scrambling out of his reach.

Looking over your shoulder, Toji's still close, about to catch you. When you run into Satoru, who appears in front of you within seconds. Wrapping his arms around your waist, flapping white feathery wings. Flying out of Toji's reach.

"I win! Haha HA!" His pupils are wide. He's high off your previous bites. Your venom coursing through his muscular body. "You smell so fuckin' sweet." He grabs your hair, pulling your head to the side. "Your neck looks prettier covered in bitemarks." Whining from the sweet pain of Satoru puncturing Toji's bite.

Grabbing a handful of his soft white hair. Wrapping your legs around his waist. Digging your nails into his back between his wings. Grazing the base of his left wing. He whines, his wings shuttering, the two of you slightly dropping before he steadies himself.

Landing on his feet, pinning you to the closest tree. Pulling away from your neck, licking up the blood. "I can't go much longer without feeling her tight, sloppy wet cunt clenching my cocks together. Sug can help me break her before Shiu and your ass as a chance." Squeezing your neck with his long, thin fingers, tugging on your thigh.

Unwrapping your legs, and standing up, he pulls you away from the tree. Pinning you to Suguru's chest, he massages both your cheeks. His fingers getting closer to your sloppy cunt.

Toji points out, "Look at her, she'll still be begging for more after the two of you. Don't think you can satisfy a greedy whore like her when she's turning." Gliding your hand along Satoru's hard sculpted side. Trailing your fingers along his abs, grabbing one of his cocks.

Smearing his pre-cum by slowly swirling your thumb. He is dripping so much, swirling your hand halfway down his cock. "Please stuff my cunt, fingers, tongue or cock don't care. Need someone to play with my cunt it hurts." Suguru's thick fingers are so close to your puffy lips.

Shifting your hips, Suguru pulls his fingers away, lightly massaging your cheek. Satoru glides his cock out of your hands. "Play with my cunt it hurts, poor little slut." He smacks your cunt, twisting your hips back. "How this?" Suguru tightens his grasp making you take five punishing wet slaps.

Trembling, knee buckling, your clit and lips stinging, cunt quivering. Your eyes water, "Please, that's not what I meant." Satoru mockingly frowns. Grabbing both cocks, matching the pace of your hands. Swirling your hand around his pale pink tip, smearing his pre-smear along his long veiny cock.

"But you said you didn't care." Pinching your cheeks. "What's wrong?" Suguru kneels behind you, biting your squishy cheek. You cry, jerking your hips forward. Satoru pinches your clit, and you shove his chest, forcing him to stumble back, smirking.

Suguru chimes, "Whore is getting some feist to her!" Satoru grabs your hair, yanking your head back, forcing you to look up at him. Satoru roughly slaps you across the face, kissing your aching cheek.

You hear the slick sound of Toji stroking his cock. You can taste his lust. Shiu states, "Bet she'd be able to take it harder than our normal slut." Your soaking wet cunt clenches from his breathy groan.

Toji bemoans, "It's tirin' havin' to hold back 'cause a bitch can't handle how hard I'm fuckin' her." Suguru pulls you onto his beautiful face by your hips. Steadily stroking your puffy clit, grinding your hips, moaning. Getting off on the pressure of Suguru's barbell swiping over your clit.

Suguru smears his thick spit on your asshole. Dipping his finger in, curling it, lubing up your other hole. Flicking your clit, faster with your tongue. Satoru watches in admiration as your beautiful face contorts with an expression of pleasure.

Loudly moaning, "Thank you! Please let me cum again, his tongue feels so good." Suguru glides another finger in, stretching your other hole apart. "Nnn his stretching my ass. We don't have lube! Nn fuck it feels so good thouuuugh don't!" Fucking your ass faster with both his thick fingers.

Keeping his barbell stroking your clit just right. The pressure is too perfect, trembling, rocking your hips. Suguru squeezes your hips, keeping you still. Begging, "Don't stop, faster, please!" His spit is thicker than a normal human, making your other hole and your clit tingle with intense pleasure.

Satoru fondles your breasts, pinching your nipples. Tugging when you cry, arching your chest into his hand, he twists. "Don't worry, Suguru's spit is aphrodisiac-like and lubricate." Easing up on your nipples, gliding his cock out of your fist. Dipping down to kiss both nipples, sucking one into his mouth.

Soothing your aching nipple with his tongue, "Your little ass will be just fine." Suguru spreads his fingers apart, stretching your asshole. The sweet ache dulling with each pump of his finger. He groans on your clit.

Clenching Suguru's head, Shiu encourages, "Let me see you cum beautiful." Creaming on Suguru's tongue, pushing his head away. He groans, flicking his tongue faster. Whining, writhing from the intensity. You've never been this sensitive before.

"Whore moaning like she's never busted a nut before." Satoru lets your nipple go with a soft pop. Kissing the other one, when he stands up. You brace yourself on his thick pecs.

Crying when Suguru digs in his sharp claws to keep you from wiggling so much. Satoru bemuses, "Might as well feel like it, cumming while turning never stops feeling immensely pleasurable." Cupping Satoru's balls, sliding your hand over his abs, feeling him up.

He whines, "Beautiful little whore crying from cumming on his tongue." Your bitten breasts ache, the pain is sweet. His warm, soft fingers playing with your nipples, gently rubbing your nipples. You can feel each swipe in your cunt.

Suguru pulls away, adding a third finger. Whining jerking your hips away in an attempt to run from Suguru slowly finger fucking your asshole. He bites your slicked thigh so close to your cunt, his bites throb, a stinging pain shoots down your thigh, becoming a tingling numbness.

Your vision goes hazy, and your body becomes heavy. Seconds trickle by and the numbness fades. “After feigning concern over me giving her too much you drug her up like that. She’s going to break so quickly; our little whore is already so sensitive.” You can feel how deep his fangs are, how wide and sharp they are embedding into your soft thigh.

Toji croons, “Can our dumb slut speak?” Satoru grabs both wrists, looping your arms around his neck. Feebly clasping your hands, he grabs your waist holding your body up. Suguru licks your thigh with a loud groan. Pumping his fingers faster, spreading them out, stretching your asshole.

"Come on cock hungry whore tell them how your greedy cunt is aching to be stuffed full of Sug and I's cock." You can't register their words. Moaning, clenching Suguru's fingers.

Getting your ass prepped for his cock felt pleasure before. But as Suguru's venom takes into effect your ass has the sensitivity of getting your g spot fucked. When Satoru rubs your clit with his head, it is like your cumming instantly.

Your cunt spasming around nothing, slick dripping down your thigh. Immense, intoxicating pleasure consumes you. Leaving you a mindless, horny mess, wanting to cum on their cocks. Gently winding your fingers into Satoru's hair, Suguru grabs your neck with his clean hand.

Shiu bemoans, "We haven't even had a chance to fuck her stupid and she's a brain-dead slut already." Satoru slides his large hand over your hip, along your thigh. You struggle to lift your leg; he has to crouch to grab the backs of your knees.

He folds you in a mating press between his and Suguru's hard muscular chest. Helping Toji and Shiu watch him glide one of his cocks into you.

Suguru glides his fingers out of your ass, grabbing his cock, lining himself up. Groaning, watching his cock stretch your beautiful ass. You can't breathe enough to moan with Suguru's thick fingers crushing your neck.

One of Satoru's cocks is gliding along your clit. The second stretching your dripping wet, tight cunt, stroking your g-spot, hitting your cervix. Your toes curl as you cream on his cock. The lack of air makes your body tingle and adds to the mind-shattering ecstasy.

Satoru wonders, "That change makin' you that sensitive? I just put it in." Roughly fucking your sloppy wet, tight cunt. "Shiu you have a knife on you? I need to carve my initials into her beautiful tits. Mark her whore ass as mine." Shiu lets go of his thick cock, to get his knife out of his pants pockets. With his hand not coated in spit and pre-cum.

Tossing it to Satoru, who catches it without sparing a glance. He grabs one of your horns. "Did you even realize these have fully grown?" He trails his fingers up your horns to the tips, then back down to the base.

Shivering from his soft touch compared to his harsh thrust and the knife's tip trailing along your side. Suguru lets go of your neck, holding your cheek, fucking your sensitive ass faster. "Let me stuff my second cock in her other tight glory hole." Satoru pauses for Suguru to line his second cock up with your dripping cunt.

You clench both holes, loudly moaning. Suguru is thicker than Suguru's veiny cock. His head reaching just below Satoru's whose presses against your cervix with a greater pressure than before.

Satoru croons, "I think she can take another one in her greedy cunt. Her cunt won't break so quickly like she did, will it?" Satoru glides his cock out. Suguru grabs your other leg with his clean hand. Satoru holds his cocks together, lining them up. Slowly gliding them in.

You jolt, tensing up, scratching Satoru's chest. Your jaw dropping, crying your cunt stuffed too full of too many long, thick veiny cocks. The fourth on in your ass, making the thin strip of skin between both holes meaningless.

Toji groans, "Fuck dirty slut is taking so much!" Having to stop jerking his cock to keep himself from cumming before having his turn with you.

Satoru drags the knife along your aching breasts. Holding your head back by your horn. "I know you're too stupid to understand me but try your best to look me in the eyes." His too beautiful to look away from.

Dark horns poking out from his fluffy, messy white hair. Thin strands hang into his stunning glowing blue eyes. A cocky smirk on his kissable pale pink lips.

Satoru urges, "I want to see the beautiful look in your eyes when you cum on my cock." Shivering from the sharp edge of the knife on your nipple. Trapped between their broad, muscular chests, you can't squirm away.

You can taste Satoru's lust stronger than you can anyone else's. Faintly you can feel your own squishy cunt wrapping around his cock. Along with the pleasure that comes with having your soft, squishy cunt stroking his cocks.

Suguru and Satoru keep their pace even, triple stuffing your cunt. Whilst stuffing your tight ass. The pleasure is mounting with every sweet quick harsh stroke. "Nnng your lust tastes so fucking good. Only a perverted cock hungry brain-dead whore would get off on having her cunt stuffed this full." Satoru picks up his speed, with Suguru maintaining his.

Satoru's navel is rubbing your clit perfectly. Suguru groans, "Fuck dirty slut is stretched so wide yet so tight." Clenching their cocks, digging your nails into Satoru's chest.

Reaching back to slip your fingers into Suguru's silk, long dark hair. Until your reach the base of his horns. Wrapping your fingers around his sensitive horn’s base, he groans, passionate, raspy and deep.

Satoru whines, it's breathy, needy, making your cunt tingle. He croons, holding the knife to your neck. "I can feel how she's about to cum. Come on cock whore cream on ournnnng!" You're squirting before Satoru can finish. Thick, warm cum dripping down their balls.

Suguru's thick veiny cock in your ass, all three hard cocks in your sensitive cunt. You're a wreck, half their size, folded in half between them taking each thrust with a loud squelch from both holes.

"Shit I dont wanna cum this quickly!" Hot warm cum spurts from both heads. It's too much for your cunt to handle. "She feels so goddamn goooood! Cummin' so hard, nnnn fuck! fuck!" His thick cum is dripping out of your cock, making your stomach expand with a cum filled bulge.

You can feel Suguru's puffy veins pulse. "Nnn! Ahhh!" You still can't think, you're craving the addictive immense pleasure of cumming already. Their cocks pumping Satoru's cum deep into your stuffed, soaking wet cunt.

Fucking your tight ass and cum filled cunt faster. Suguru groans, "Moan louder dirty little whore! Pretty little sounds are getting me off, making my thick cocks throb." Satoru glides his overly sensitive, softening cocks out.

Satoru pushes on your stomach, and his cum spurts out like you squirting again. You're bouncing on Suguru's cock, a moaning, cock hungry mess. Clenching both holes Suguru's pace becomes sloppy. Rutting his cocks into your sloppy glory holes.

Suguru loudly groans, fucking his thick cum into your greedy cum. Quickly pulling out, letting some spurt onto your ass. They set you on your feet, and Satoru steadies you by your horn and hip.

Toji pips up, "Ready for more?" Your legs trembling, you're barely standing up. Your knees buckle and Satoru doesn't let you fall. Turning you around, pressing the night to your lower back. "I think the whore deserves a tramp stamp of my name instead." You don't have the energy to writhe when he carves a S into your back.

It's seconds without having one of them touch your cunt and your whining, "Please! Wanna cum!" Suguru smirks at you, slapping your cunt when Satoru finishes the first letter.

Pressing your thighs together, doubling over, Suguru switches out with Toji. He roughly grabs your horns, holding your head still. Lining his cock up, "Ya look starving for some cock" You wince when your fangs retract. Crying when Satoru carves an a into your lower back, Toji stuffs his cock into your mouth with a loud, deep groan.

Shiu grumbles, "Dirty fucking whore taking us all." He crouches next to you, stuffing four thick fingers into your sloppy cunt. Rubbing your clit with his thumb. He bites your outer thigh, his fangs have a slight curve to them, sinking in deep.

He groans as your blood fills his mouth, pumping his fingers fast. Finding your sweet spot, focusing on it. Pain and pleasure are becoming the same. Satoru smack your cum covered cheek. "Three more letters, and two more cocks to go." Moaning on Toji's cock, massaging his heavy balls.

Your cunt spasming around Shiu's relentless, quickly pumping fingers. Shiu doesn't bother to clean up the blood dripping down your thigh. Licking up your thigh, you slip your fingers into his short hair. "Cumming on my fingers that quickly?" Satoru quickly cuts the rest of his name into you.

Slipping his fingers in with Shiu's, matching his pace. "Once they finish with you, Sug and I are having another round. Have to test your new limits, see how much our pretty little succubus can handle." He gives your ass a rough smack and steps aside for Shiu to stand up behind you.

Gliding his fingers out of your cunt, grabbing your hips. Smearing your slick on his thick, veiny cock, lining himself up. Roughly slamming his cock into you, splitting your cunt open with no warning. "Perfect fuckin' glory hole you'd think she'd break after that but she's too tight 'round my cock." Toji groans gagging you with his cock, getting off on your neck squeezing his fat cock.

"I'm too big for her little throat. It almost hurts how she grippin' me. But it feels so good, sluts don't need to breathe right?" He shallowly pumps his hips, refusing to let you breathe. Grunting, "Stupid little succubus is gonna drain my balls dry with her pretty mouth."

oreo creampie's m.list

tag list: @unknownspecies @butterflieskeepcominback @bvbarmy @linadiablo @hinata7346 @aechmea01 @movlul @namjoons-t1ddies @valentxi @erp1007 @shussshs @deft0n3sss @ryutotsukai0824 @saintydainty @insomniac-h3art @lov3rbody @getous-1-tears

My Boy is so HOOOT 🔥🔥

LOVERS VICTIM ☾

gojo who bullies you constantly, but can’t stand seeing anyone else do the same.

tags — major nsfw, unprotected sex, oral (f!rec), mean gojo, slut shaming, gojo senpai, angst, jealous gojo, mean girls, public humiliation (not from gojo), pussy drunk, lowkey toxic, love struck gojo, cum dump, secretly in love, dacryphilia, dumbification, fingering,

notes — ignoring the new chp bc my baby boy is happy and livin life XD

you hated him. he was the worst person you’ve ever met. if someone put a gun to your head and asked you to name one good thing about this man, you’d probably have to say your prayers fast because you’re dead.

“one tutor session, princess?” his teasing voice was nagging as he pressed himself beside you. you hated when this happened. when he’d sit next to you just as the lecture was about to start so you’d be stuck.

“fuck off,” you huff, trying to pull out your laptop from your bag, only for his leg to keep you from getting your bag from under your seat.

this shit wasn’t new. no, instead it’s been going on for months. and I mean months. if you’d known rejecting the satoru gojo in public, let alone, at a fundraiser hosted by his family, you’d have politely said you were in a relationship, instead of the annoyed snap you gave after he tried hitting on you for a fifth time that night.

to say you rep what you sow, is a complete and utter understatement. satoru took it too personally—not to say that it wasn’t personal, it certainly was, but still!— you’re paying for it months after the fact!

“just move it, you’re acting like a child,” the same comebacks, the same snarl in his words, nothing was new here. and yet, he still refuses to leave you alone. so you had to sit the entire lecture unable to take a single fucking note because he refused to move his leg and he knew you weren’t about to cause a scene.

“asshole,” you finally shove him, grabbing your bag as the lecture ends and storming away. desperate to catch up to a mutual friend that could maybe, possibly, give you the notes….and satoru couldn’t careless.

…his eyes though….he followed the way your skirt flowed as you ran, hitting the back of your plush thighs. soft. the slight pant in your face as you reached your male friend, cute, a bit out of breath as your entire body pressed against the guy who immediately blushed at having you so close to him.

“asshole,” he mutters to himself, grabbing his own things. his blood suddenly boiling, and his veins straining in his jaw.

the campus was big, it wasn’t some small town university. no, it was one of the best in the country. you weren’t going to pride yourself and say you were the smartest shit ever, but you still tried your absolute hardest. point being, in the large fucking campus, satoru is still able to find you.

“whatcha reading—“ you don’t have time to react as he snatches the book from your hand and holds it up to read it. his brows pinched, as he looks down to see you ignoring him and instead pulling out your laptop. “what, the silent treatment again?”

no response.

he lets out a strangled sigh, unbothered by the other people in the park that take a glance, he squats down, his dress pants tightening around his built thighs and his white dress shirt crumbled across his biceps, sleeves rolled up to his forearms, showing the veins that run up the sides. it wasn’t surprising that girls were tripping over as they passed by.

“princess, upset you didn’t take any notes?” he taunts, his hand tilting your chin up when you refused to respond again.

“don’t fucking touch me,” you slap his hand away, eyes deadly as you glare holes into him. you hated how worked up he gets you. especially when he’d reciprocate the same amount of anger back.

“I just asked a question, why’re you acting like a fucking bitch,” he snaps at you, nothings changed. you grab the book back, gathering up your things, only for a grip on your bag to halt you.

“god, you’re such a fucking asshole, leave me alone,” you try to pull at your bag, just as his brow quirks, eyes set on you as he lets go, watching you fall back on your ass.

“calm the fuck down, will you, I’m just playing around,” he raises his hand, his sunglasses lowered a bit to look at the way you push your skirt down quickly, covering up the peak in your panties that he certainly caught. his breath catching in his throat at the cotton blue flowers which had him immediately stand up.

“maybe don’t go wearing skirts that easily show off your panties,” he glares down at you, making you feel so small and insignificant.

“maybe don’t look there,” you snap, completely embarrassed that this is happening. his grip suddenly held your jaw, breath warming your cheeks as it fans to your ear.

“don’t piss me off again,” you felt your body shiver. “i see you parading around like a common slut. I’m just asking for the decency, not to do it in public. no wonder everyone wants to fuck you.”

your breath was uneven, even though he was no longer beside you. even though he says mean things to you all the time. it felt different this time. you felt so completely alone. you were disgusted with yourself. who was he to tell to you anything? he who’s always with someone new every week. he who has every single girl falling at the sight. he who flirts with every girl in his class just for some answers. and yet, he was the one surrounded by friends. he was the one that caused girls to spread rumors about you. he had people thinking you were sleeping with him, with every guy on campus.

“fuck him,” you hated when these moment would cause you to shed a tear. you weren’t sensitive. you could care less about people liking you or not, you weren’t here for that. it was a degree and you’re out.

that didn’t help though. especially when you volunteered for the swim tournament. the university was hosting a marathon for every full 100 meter lap they’d donate a $1000 and if the representative from the school won a race they’d donate five times that plus every person competing.

it wasn’t uncommon for you to help fundraisers. so this was no different. what you didn’t consider though was having multiple men surrounding you as you checked them in.

“how many times do I have to win, until you say yes to dinner?” one flirted, he was objectively attractive, taller than you, blonde hair, but you weren’t interested.

that didn’t stop other volunteers from making comments. fucking slut. just because she got with gojo-san, she thinks she can be with anyone.

“why don’t you race? isn’t it open to all,” another guy was speaking to you as you did a quick check of the pools, kneeling beside the water as the stands began to fill in.

“what, me?!” you said a bit too shocked, the guy laughing as his fingers helped you stand up. you shook your head, letting out a laugh. you look so cute, the guy blushing at your reaction. “i can’t swim…like at all.”

“aww,” he cooes, making you laugh at his teasing. he was cute. “i can give you lessons,” your brow quirks, slightly interested. “I’m a great teacher, I help kids on the weekends.”

“that’s too convenient,” you brush him off jokingly, the guy immediately infatuated with your attention.

it didn’t take long for satoru to notice you. especially when he was also one of the volunteers. not by coincidence of course. what he wanted was to get on your nerves some more, but instead he’s watching every single guy throw themselves at you. but it was too convenient, especially with how some volunteers were snickering at you.

as the stands began to fill up, the more swimmers lined the pool. you were immediately eaten up by them, as you moved up on the stand. you were announcing the swimmers. but something was off.

bitch is getting what she deserves. cant wait to see the look on her face. she dressed all nice in that slutty outfit! satoru felt his blood run cold, eyes scanning to find the guys from earlier, fake wrestling by the stands loose base.

I don’t know if this is such a good idea. I heard she can’t swim. that’s exactly why! needs to learn a lesson about humility.

“what did you say!” satoru’s voice startled the group as they turned to face the man. his eyes were dark, veins bulging out of his white tee. he didn’t have time to get angry, until he was looking up at the loud gasp from the audience. your body already plunged in the water, too far from the edge to reach.

“shit!” his blood was boiling as he watched the swimmers just stare around the pool, struggling to push past the bodies before diving in the water. how fucking deep is this pool?! his hands grabbed your flailing body, pulling you to the surface.

“y/n!” you were coughing up the water, body shaking as you held onto him desperately. “fuck.”

“f-fucking asshole,” you cough, body struggling to get away from him, only for his grip to slip as you sink back into the water unexpectedly.

“don’t struggle, shit! just hold on!” he yells at you, as you cough some more, now holding him too tightly. “you’re gonna strangle me.” he jokes, but it’s received only by the trembling of your body. his hand pressed on your back, unconsciously soothing your body as he swam to the edge. his arm was tight around your body as he had you hold onto the edge as he lifted his body up.

the audience members gasping and whispering to each other as satoru’s white shirt easily showcased his sculpted body, his hand pushing his beautiful white hair back as he kneeled by the edge, pants tight around his crotch as his arms flexed pulling you up.

too say the girls were livid was an understatement. they were fucking seething when satoru gojo carried the girl instead of having her walk! her body curling in his arms from embarrassment and shame as she hid her face. he kept a deadly stare ahead, silencing anyone that even dared to look, having every single one of them cowering at his gaze. his aura too powerful for them to even breathe, almost choking on it. the biggest player in the university was a terrifying sight to see angry.

he hadn’t realized you were crying until he heard the quiet sniffles when he’d reached the empty locker room. your body was quivering in his arms, you hadn’t said a word to him, not even struggling in his hold as he sat down on the bench, his own head falling back, looking up at the ceiling.

his lips parted, stare blankly. but his grip only tightened around you.

what am I doing. he couldn’t make sense of his own actions. his emotions were a mess, anger, jealousy… he couldn’t bring himself to admit it. it was too disgusting. he hated himself for feeling this way.

“i hate you,” your fist squeezed his wet shirt. you were embarrassed, humiliated, and so fucking angry. this happened because of him. it’s his fault!

“i think you should be thanking me,” he snarks back, still not daring himself to look down at you.

“thanking—“ your blood was boiling. “thanking you? for what exactly?! for making everyone hate me? for embarrassing me—“

“for saving your life, for starters,” his eyes try to remain up, the water still trickling from is wet hair cascading down the column of his neck, his skin glistening as his chest rose and fell with each passing breath. your eyes followed the tight clothes that stuck perfectly as you saw his jaw clench. “and it’s not my fucking problem that you don’t have any friends.”

your breath hitched, and he caught it. his eyes betraying him, cursing himself when his heart stopped. the glossy eyes held in so much rage and hate, and the pinch in your eyebrows, the embarrassing tremble of your lip, fuck he wanted to bite them.

“i can’t even talk to you like a normal person,” you mutter, body moving on your own, as you try to get up. you couldn’t believe him, after everything that happened, could he not see your side? you’re not playing the victim, you could careless if everyone just ignored you, but this crossed a line. being invisible is better than being targeted. at least then people can’t say you’re doing it for attention—

“where’re you going,” he couldn’t loosen his grip. he didn’t want too. he was too used to your body heat. the weight on his lap—

“let go of me, I’m done with your stupid games. It’s not funny anymore,” now you’re struggling, squirming to pull his arms away, but it was hard. it was hard because why was he looking at you like that? why did his eyes pull you in? “senpai—“

“you think I wanted this to happen to you?” he snaps, blood boiling.

“yes! it’s even more humiliating that you had to save me!” the frustrations and insecurities that you had control of, was suddenly starting to boil over. all because of this asshole—

“so you wanted me to do nothing?”

“just leave me alone,” your throat is tight, don’t cry don’t cry dontcrydontcrydontcry

“and if I say no?” you couldn’t breathe, the proximity, suffocating.

“i don’t care, just stop it!” you’re now forcefully trying to get off, only to wince when his grip tightens. “senpai—let go—“

he moved too quick for your mind to comprehend, his lips crashing onto yours. the wind completely knocked out of you. his grip around your waist was burning, the other hand held your jaw as you whined in his mouth. his tongue was so warm and wet as it easily pushed into your lips, before you shoved him back.

“what the fuck?!” fuck…the tears slipped. “what’s wrong with you?!”

“i don’t know,” his jaw clenched. eyes shamefully looking away as he cursed again. “I couldn’t help myself—“

“what do you want from me?” satoru could feel your chest beating against his. your breath fanning still short of breath.

“I don’t know,” his voice much lower now, sending an unexpected feeling right down to your core. his eyes stilling on yours, thumb gently caressing your damp face, wiping the slow humiliating tears that seemed to escape one after the other.

you couldn’t properly think. you want to make sense of this. you did. but what is there to make sense of? everything in life is confusing, but this was someone who’s bothered you endlessly for two fucking semesters. it was exhausting—

he kisses you again.

you whine again.

you push him back again. your eyes are downcast, out of breath once again. his lips were so wet, yours were so soft. his hand was rubbing your side, soothing you. his eyes felt too real….too genuine.

he comes closer, the proximity had your lips just grazing one another, his breath taking in your own as his thumb gently eased your nerves as you felt it rub your jaw, holding the side of your face.

your lips pushed forward, and that’s all he needed. your lips moved in complete sync, as if you both knew the others body. your moans flowed in hushed whines as he felt up your body, groaning as you rolled your hips slowly, circling the growing bulge that was easily visible through his wet clothes.

“gonna make me loose control, princess,” he groans, grabbing your ass, adam apple bobbing as his hips jerk, pressing you down firmly.

“didn’t take much,” you reply, cheeks blushing as you earned a chuckle from the white haired man, only for your breath to hitch as he lifted you in the air. your arms immediately falling on his shoulders as he sat you on the bench in his place and dropped to his knees.

“let’s see this fucking pussy, I know you’re soaked,” he easily tossed your wet shorts off, which only seemed to be a bit of struggle. but it was well worth it when he pushed your legs apart, eyes immediately falling onto your drenched strawberry panties that hugged your pussy lips. “shiit, i can fucking see right through,” he laughs, thumb rubbing through your clothed folds making you bite down a whine.

“keepin yourself quiet?” his eyes flick up.

your cheeks feel hot, eyes stuck waiting for his next move that you only gave him a silent pout, as if you weren’t shutting yourself up.

“you look so cute in these,” he grins, pressing his face between your legs, kissing your clothed pussy.

“stop teasing,” you blush, as his eyes look up at you, smiling as he rubbed his face, he couldn’t help his cock from growing. his thick fingers skillfully pulling your sticky wet panties to the side as he took his tongue and licked up, up, before kissing your clit between his lips.

“ahhhhh, fuuh uhck,” your lips quivered as you reached for something—

“mmm, pull my hair,” satoru guided your other hand to hold his hair tighter, your hips were bucking as he absolutely devoured your leaking hole. “good fucking pussy,” he pulls back spreading your legs ever further as his thumbs pulled your slippery folds apart, getting a nice clear view of your pretty pussy. it was absolutely drenched stupid, your chest heaving as he soothed a hand on your tummy as his thumb rubbed circles on your cute little bud.

“your mouth—mmfh uhahh ah senpai—“ your head was thrown back, holding his hair.

“you’re so cute,” he groans, flicking your clit so fucking teasingly as you moaned over and over. edging you on and on. your eyes were seeing stars as you cried for more, just to feel warmth spread inside as he let a glob of spit fall on your cunt. trickling down inside your pussy, some sliding down to your ass.

“so pretty when you’re making a mess,” he murmurs, lips brushing your puffy wet folds, your heart beating in anticipation, as you felt his warm breath fan against you. his lips parted as he took a kitten licks, your fingers tangling in his white hair as he hummed. “taste so sweet,” he groans form the back of his throat, tongue making out with your lips before slipping inside your hole, the feeling had your whines echoing.

he was so fucking drunk. your taste, scent, he couldn’t help himself. his eyes shut as he coaxed another orgasm, your eyes falling shut as you pulled at his hair. his face moving back and forth, pulling you closer and closer, until you came with a muffled moan. your arm over your mouth.

“can’t stop tasting you,” his pants like a dog, tongue hanging out as he watches your pussy spasm. “more, princess,” he whines licking up your generous cream, sucking every thing, until he pulls away, middle and ring finger gliding inside, your tight walls, squelching at the intrusion. some more juices trickled down his fingers as he hums. “you’re so nice, giving me so much.”

“sen…pai,” the broken whine, sent his mind off. everything about your moans and body was just so fucking perfect.

“might cum from how good you taste?“ he kisses your swollen nub, “tell me how good yer feelin….cmon baby,” his free hand gave your inner thigh a tight squeeze as his fingers splayed. your hips bucking as your hand stroked his hair, eyes rolling back as he pumped his fingers inside you.

“you’re uh…so good,” your voice strained, orgasm coming on faster than before. he was not giving you a single break, his fingers curling up pressing against your sweet spot, lips sucking desperately on your swollen bud. you were so close—

“I was not expecting them to pull that shit. that was too far—“ the voices coming from the entrance immediately had your body jerking up.

“mmfh…w-wait—“ you were desperately trying to push his pretty face away, but he only went faster. his cheeks flushed pink as an unexpected moan came from the back of his throat. it looked like he was enjoying this more than you, he was glad that his pants were already soaked, so you couldn’t see his cum spraying in his tight pants. your hand went over your mouth trying to conceal the orgasm the ripped through you.

“stay quiet,” his lips were suddenly on yours, you couldn’t even think properly as his body lifted yours. your arms wrapped around his shoulders, allowing him to take you away.

don’t ask how things like this happen, because honestly even if you try to follow it linearly, you’ll still be stunned how you could’ve ended up on satoru gojo’s bed. your wet clothes were discarded on the ground as his fingers pulled at your nipples.

“you’re soaking the sheets, mmm…ya like it that much?” he sucked bruises on your hips and inner thighs. his face smeared with your juices, too addicted to the taste, he had to dive for seconds.

“senpai,” your sweet voice was like honey, it was too easy for his body to move on your command. automatically catching your lips in a deep kiss. he tasted like you, but his hands were pushing your legs up, pumping his heavy cock, his tip swollen, aching for you.

“is this your first?” his tongue played with yours, his cheeks flushing at the thought of taking away your first. his pre-cum oozing down on your puffy folds at being the first to go inside you.

“you’re not that special,” you slur, mind blessed out as your hands stroked his flushed cheeks. his brows pinched together pulling away to look at you. he had to contain himself, your pretty lips smeared with his spit, eyes blessed out from the amount of times you’ve cum just by his lips and fingers, you looked stunning.

“who fucked you?” his blood suddenly boiling as your thumb gently played with his swollen lips. his eyes half lidded with a sudden coat of dark blue as you answered.

“kento-kun,” you were a bit glad for this small break so you could catch your breath, pretty tits pushing up as you took deep breaths. “he was a lab partner in first year—“

“nanami?” his jaw clenched. he vaguely remembered the blonde. “you let him fuck you?”

“I’m letting you fuck me,” your hands are glued to him, unable to rip them away as they continue to caress and feel his naturally soft skin. “you still wanna fuck me, right?” you’re leaning up, lips grazing his, you were didn’t want admit how much you wanted him right now. his cheeks, chin and lip all coated in your juices—

“you some whore now?” his cold stare sent shivers down your spine as you suddenly felt your stomach churn in disgust.

“says you,” you suddenly realize who you’re with right now. “whatever,” you push him to the side, body sliding to get off the bed. what were you thinking—

“wait, wait!”

his arms tightly wrap around you, stopping you as he buries his face in your neck.

“I’m sorry…. don’t leave,” his voice was soft, a bit shaky, as he kissed your shoulder, neck, pulling you into his firm chest as you gave in again.

“do you hate me?” your words felt like knives. his movements freezing.

“I don’t hate you,” he turns your face so he can see your eyes, his hand was warm on your jaw.

“then why’re you such a dick all the fucking time?” your throat felt dry.

“I don’t know,” he dropped his head. “I can’t explain it,” his lips pressed onto yours. “i need you,” he mutters. “all the time,” he’s practically whining into your lips as you turn over, laying him down, legs straddling his waist as you rocked your hips, pussy leaking on his cock. “i can’t leave you alone,” he pants, holding your face as his eyes flutter seeing your pretty face above him. “i can’t think when I see you.”

“you in love with me or something?” you tease.

silence…

you pull away. what’s going on? your stomach churned at the flustered expression on the man’s face. his eyes glossed over, and his face bright pink. his lips parted—

“d-don’t answer that!” what the fuck?!

you weren’t thinking straight! so you pushed everything back and kissed him, your hips moving up as you swiped at his flushed tip, his body shuddering at your small hands picking up his hefty girth.

“you’re pretty sensitive,” you comment, his blue eyes look over at you with an embarrassed scowl.

“let’s see you take it,” an arm goes behind his head as the other rubbed at your hip, smirking as you lifted your hips, pressing his tip to your entrance. he had to contain his own moan as you slowly sank down on. your eyes unconsciously fluttered, you barely have experience, you were faking this whole shit. you’ve never been on top before!

his eyes flicked up to your pinched expression as you slowly struggled to take his tip. your juices squelching down his cock to his trimmed base as your body shuddered.

“need help?” satoru leans up, grabbing at your sides, as he kissed your neck, he wasn’t that mean…

“I can do it,” you stubbornly huff. cheeks flushed as your nails dig into his shoulders.

“it’s okay if ya need my help, I won’t tease you, princess,” he says with a wide grin, his ego easily going through the roof as he watched your body struggle. “I’m bigger than most—“

“it’s just…” you’re already out of breath, sweat trickling down your temple as you struggled. “been awhile.” you clamp around him unexpectedly.

“shit—might cum just from your dirty pussy squeezing me,” his hips buck on instinct, earning a strangled moan to escape your lips. “fuckk,” satoru throws his head back, abs clenching as his legs trembled, suddenly wrapped his arms under your thighs grabbing your ass, biceps flexing as his abs tightened, easily lifting your body up as his tip spurted excessive amounts of cum, littering your pussy lips and falling to his pelvis.

“did you just…cum?” you’re holding his shoulder as satoru trembled underneath you. a bit out of breath, he can’t remember the last time he’s came so fast.

“shut up,” his jaw clenched as he slams your hips down, your eyes bulging out as your pussy swallowed his entire pulsing cock, feeling his cum trickle out.

“ahh! uh making me feel good,” you’re an absolute mess. his cock thrusting up at an unrelenting pace as he holds your body.

“fuck, you’re taking me so well, uh so deep inside ya—“ satoru was a babbling mess as he fucked up your tight pussy. your tits were bouncing so beautifully, he couldn’t help but latch his lips around your nipple to contain his whines. suckling on the erect bud as you whined.

“ahh, it’s so deep!” you’re eyes were rolling back as you clamped down, legs trembling as you felt a wave rush over you.

“oh.”

you’re panting, eyes half lidded as satoru manhandled your body to rest on the bed, as he moved over you.

“i think this cute pussy loves feeding me,” his voice was low, your fingers lazily petting his cheek, “now don’t give up on me, pretty,” he kissed your shoulder as his hand pumped his still very erect dick. “i still have a bit to go.” you felt him kiss your cheek as he turned you a bit more until you were on your tummy. his hand sliding down your back. “lift that pretty ass for me.”

“this…good?” you couldn’t think straight, as your back arched, pushing your ass up, giving it a cute shake as your pussy hole squeezes some more juices out, satoru bit his lip, groaning from the back of his throat at the image of your twitching hole.

“you’re so nice, baby,” he cooes, rubbing his fingers in your wet folds, as if he was petting you for listening to him. and you ate it up, whining as you pressed into him. “fuck, you’re so needy.”

your hips jerked at the harsh slap to your pussy, a whine coming out as you received another one. your nub was big and swollen and you couldn’t stop your juices from sliding down your thighs. even so, satoru was hypnotized.

“i think I might cum, just from seeing how much fun yer havin,” he bites his lip as he watches your tongue hang out, still obeying him as you kept your back arched and pussy and hole on full display. he could see everything.

“i wanna join the fun, cutie,” his cock felt unbelievably heavy, already knowing the build up inside his swollen length. “good girl,” he sighs rubbing his length in your juices again, slapping his tip on your oversensitive clit.

“good….fucking girl,” his moan was so loud as he slid back inside your pussy. your eyes roll back as you clawed at the sheets. why did he feel bigger! you couldn’t think anymore, cheeks bursting with heat as his hand grab at your hips pulling out, squelching oozing into your ear drums as he slammed back it, filling you to the brim.

“I’m so deep… mmh..kissing your womb,” satoru leans over your body, fucking you faster now. you were a crying mess.

“se…..sen…”

“can’t understand you, princess,” his arm wraps around you, lifting your body up, as he turns your face. “shit.” his abs clench at the fucked out look in your face.

“please….call me….ah y/n,” tears and drool stained your face as he held your jaw, cock pulsing inside you as a grin took over his flushed face.

“why?” he kisses your ear, licking at the lobe as his other hand pinched your sensitive nipples, making you squirm and clench around him. he suddenly grabs your hips, and snaps into you again, and again. “you just want to have sex so we can play lovers? is that it?” his jaw clenched as his blood was boiling. “letting your bully fuck your stupid pussy?” your moans were so loud he was desperate not to bust a load right now.

“do you even like me?” his body laid over yours, turning your jaw again to see your flushed face, tongue hanging as you whined.

“se..pai….”

“my name isn’t….senpai, now is it?” his jaw clenched, biting your shoulder as you cried.

“so….sorrryy!” you were a babbling mess, so fucking stupid you could barely think. yet…

“my name isn’t sorry either,” he doesn’t stop his pace, still fucking your squelching hole, pressing down on the bulge in your tummy making your back arch, tears bursting as your head fell on his shoulder.

“pretty y/nn… you’re already mine aren’t you?” his tongue played with yours as you moaned at the sound of your name on his lips. “can’t speak anymore?” he laughs feeling your pussy reply to his words. “it’s okay….I’ll take care of your dumb little head,” his own body is loosing control. his balls tighten as you held his arms, feeling one wrapped in front of your shoulder as the other held your head, in a headlock.

“shittt, you’re fucking….”

“cu…cummi—ahh!” was the only warning you gave as you creamed around him with a high pitched moan, your body was shaking as you gushed. satoru pressed his face to your head as he continued giving sloppy thrusts.

“fu-fucckk,” his body shook as he felt the first spurts of his cum squirt inside you.

your nails dug into his forearms as you looked over your shoulder. he felt his heart skip a beat, cock busting as you smiled…

“please…keep cumming inside me.” your tongue hanging out, eyes clouded over.

“mmfhh….damn you!” satoru cursed, turning you over. pushing your leg up. “you’re just too…cute!” his jaw clenched as his eyes rolled back, leaning over your body as he suddenly sank even deeper inside, a choked moan came from his chest.

“ahhh toru!” that was his final straw. the sound of your voice screaming his name immediately had his hefty cock, squirting creams of thick white cum inside you.

“shit y/n…s-say my name again—“ he’s practically whimpering; panting, body shuddering as he still manages to move inside you as he pushes more cum even deeper.

“toru…feels good…you’re so good, so good,” you’re hugging his head as he groans, thrusts so sloppy, as you bite your hand from how sensitive you’re feeling.

“give me all of it, toru,” you slur, eyes foggy as he whines, kissing you, but it was more like drooling in your mouth because his head was no longer there, he couldn’t stop cumming.

his tongue was hanging out as his big hand pressed down on your tummy, surging more cum to shot inside you.

“you’re uh…making me stupid,” he shudders as he sees your tummy swelling. he twitches as he carefully begins to pull out. “think you broke my dick.”

“toru…” his eyes glance up. “satoru?” it was like instinct, immediately leaning down for you to cup his flushed cheeks, leaning into your touch as you smile.

“what is it?” he whispers, heart beating fast as you continue to caress his cheeks.

“why do you need me?” the question catches him off guard. he swallows thickly, struggling to maintain eye contact. “answer me.”

“I’m…” scared? he can’t excuse the shit he made you feel before, the consequences for his own actions, he was a real piece of shit. and for what? all because he— “I’m jealous when you’re not with me.”

you’re silent, his eyes darting, trying to avoid your eyes, as he mumbles in shame. “i don’t like it when you talk to other people, or when you’re….” he stops himself. “im fucking shit.”

“you are,” you maintain your stern tone as you see something crack behind his eyes. “so tell me why.”

what did you want him to say? he didn’t want to fuck this up! he finally has you! after so long…he can’t loose you now!

“i…i was upset you rejected me,” he mumbles, cheek flaring. “but after that I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

“that’s kinda fucked up,” your hands still brush his cheek, pushing back the loose white strands that were stuck to his forehead. he bites his cheek.

“not that surprising, I’ve always been a piece of shit,” he shrugs, rolling his eyes. his heart suddenly skips a beat, looking back once he heard you laugh. his own lips curling into a smile.

“god you’re something else,” you can’t stop laughing, pulling him to your lips. “is this when you suddenly change for the better?” you mumble.

he smirks against your lips, “who knows? i did get what I wished for.”

istg this was supposed to be a quick little drabble but ig that’s impossible for me :p

idk bakugou letting his youngest daughter paint his nails every weekend before work and the reporters always ask which nail tech he goes to so he can promote her little nail making business wails.

bakugou taking his oldest daughter to all of her interviews at hero agencies for when she graduates. he spends hours practicing with her until she feels she can answer confidently. talks her down when she panics about not being a good enough hero and tells her “you can always say yer dad is dynamight.” because he knows it’ll get her into any agency she wants.

bakugou who silently sits with his middle daughter in her room when she cries and tells him she doesn’t feel special. being the quirkless one out of her siblings makes her feel weak, unwanted and unloved. he gets on his knees, forehead to hers and hands in his to make sure she feels how much he adores her — quirk or no quirk.

bakugou who falls asleep on the couch with his three girls every Friday after movie night — no one can take that special time away from them. even if he’s exhausted after a long work week, he’ll always make time for his girls.

Hands!

Something about Bakugo being nosy just sits so right with me. It’s canon that he’s often listening in on conversations (even if participants of said conversations are unaware of his presence) so I imagine when he likes you he tends to hover around you just a little bit more.

You could be talking to Ashido and Kaminari in the common room and Bakugo will be there. Maybe not necessarily near you, not even looking at you. He’s off on the opposite side of the room, and he’s so uncharacteristically quiet that you could forget he was there in the first place.

You mention offendedly how you miss your favorite drink and snack from that one cafe near the heart of Musutafu, being too busy with your work study to find the time to visit.

A few days later, you hear a knock on your door. You’re met with a plastic bag with the very same food and drink combination you had just told your friends about the other day. Your eyes trail the arm and hand holding it and see Bakugo with a pinched look on his face.

“‘s for you,” he grumbles, head turned to the side as his signature scowl deepens. If you looked any closer, you’d clearly be able to see the blush accentuating his cheeks and ears. 

“Thank you, Bakugo,” you take the bag with a smile, and Katsuki has to keep from shuddering when your fingertips accidentally brush his. “Why don’t you come in so we can share?”

Bakugo is nosy, but if it means being able to share stolen moments (and bites of food) with you, then it’s totally worth it.

ON MY KNEES

made by bloodybeni

𝗌𝖾𝗇𝗌𝖾𝗂'𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝖿𝖾. ๑ 𝗴𝗼𝗷𝗼 𝘀𝗮𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘂 !

★! 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: gojo satoru x fem!reader.

★! 𝘀𝘆𝗻𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝘀: itadori and nobara find out that their sensei is married.

★! 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘀 & 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲𝘀: fluff ! established relationship. use of pet-names ((sweets, honey, queen)). use of 'y/n'. husband gojo <3 megumi refers to you as his mother. gojo + you + megumi = happy (found) family!! eng isn't my first language, so sorry for the mistakes/typos.

Itadori looked around for Megumi while carrying at least five of Nobara's shopping bags. It was a day off, which meant that instead of fighting horrible monsters, they were fighting Nobara's insatiable desire to spend all her money on new clothes and random things that were one hundred percent useless.

But somehow Megumi just disappears from his sight.

Apart from the fact that he didn't like to go shopping with Nobara ⸻ for obvious reasons, like the fact that they were her chauffeur back then ⸻ Megumi wasn't the one to just give up. At least he would just sit down somewhere, or he would just stand behind them all grumpy.

Curious about his disappearance, Itadori's hands tightened the straps of the shopping bags and adjusted them before he left the shop, keeping a watchful eye on everyone passing by. Well, Nobara would be fine, she was very strong and besides, she was in the company of their sensei ⸻ nothing could go wrong in Gojo's eyes.

After walking for a while, Itadori saw his friend ⸻ thanks to his sea urchin-like hair ⸻ near an ice cream parlor. But something else catches Itadori's eye and paralyzes him.

Megumi's smile.

Of course, on rare occasions, Itadori had seen his friend smile, but it was a short smile that lasted only two seconds before his grumpy face took over. But this smile that Itadori saw in front of him was the biggest and brightest smile he had ever seen. He hadn't even known that Megumi's teeth were that white.

But something else ⸻ apart from Megumi's smile ⸻ caught Yuji's attention.

Or rather the reason why Megumi was smiling like that.

The woman standing next to Megumi, who also has a bright smile on her face. She said something to the boy that made him blush and try to hide his face, but she just giggled at his reaction and gently touched Megumi's hair.

The first thing that came to Yuji's mind was that Megumi had a secret girlfriend. What else could it have been? Megumi wouldn't smile like that or let anyone touch his hair ⸻ well, in his own experience, considering that Yuji almost lost his hand when he tried it.

Shocked by the whole scene, Yuji turned around and ran back to the shop where Nobara and Gojo were.

"Hey! Where were you?!" Nobara asked at the same moment Itadori found his friend and sensei.

"Megumi has a girlfriend?" He asked Gojo.

"What?" His sensei looked shocked at the question, "Not that I know of. Why?"

"He's talking to a woman near the ice-cream parlor and he's smiling, like he has a really big smile on his face," Itadori recounts the scene as if it were the most incredible thing in the world, "Plus she touched his hair and he did nothing!"

"I can't believe Megumi is dating someone before me!" Nobara complained with horror in her eyes.

"You all know what time it is?" Gojo asked, earning a confused look from his students. "Formation B!"

Nobara and Itadori nodded their heads and started to run to where Megumi was with the unknown woman. When Itadori and Nobara saw Megumi, they exchanged a look before running and jumping into Megumi, scaring the boy and his companion.

"What are you doing?" Megumi asked, confused. The smiling face is gone, now it's just his grumpy face.

"I can't believe you are cheating on us, Fushiguro!" Nobara faked a cry.

"I thought you said we were forever!" Itadori also faked a cry.

The woman next to them laughed at the scene.

"Y/n?" Gojo looked shocked to see his wife standing there. His wife who was supposed to be on a mission in another country and was due back next week.

"Toru! Hey!" Your smile seemed to widen as you ran into your husband's arms.

"I missed you so much!" Satoru hugged you back, hiding his face in the curve of your neck.

"It was supposed to be a surprise, Toru!" You laughed softly as he broke the hug and started to kiss your face all over.

"WAIT! ISN'T SHE MEGUMI'S GIRLFRIEND?" Nobara looked shocked when she saw her sensei kissing the unknown woman.

"My girlfriend?" Megumi looked at his two friends in confusion.

"I saw you and her, and you were smiling, and you didn't take her hand away when she touched your hair, so I thought maybe she was your girlfriend." Itadori said.

"She's my mom, of course I would let her touch my hair…" Megumi rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"Your mom?" Nobara looked between her friend and the woman.

"And she's my wife too!" Gojo said proudly, showing the rings on their fingers.

"YOUR WIFE?" Nobara almost fainted at the news, "She's so pretty... how could YOU marry someone like her?"

"I asked the same thing when they got married." Megumi whispered.

"I can't believe that Gojo-sensei is married to a goddess…"

"Hey man, she's already married and happy." Satoru looks at Itadori through his glasses. "And what is your problem with me? Am I that bad? Sweets, am I that bad?" Satoru grumbles.

"No, honey. You're perfect!" You kissed his cheeks, making him smile at you. "Well, it was really nice to meet you, Nobara and Itadori."

"You know our name?"

"Of course! You are Gumi's new friends. I'm glad to have the opportunity to meet you in person."

"Do you tell your mother about us?" Nobara smiled sideways.

"I complain about the two of you to my mom, that's different."

"I knew you loved us, Gumi!" Itadori put his arms around Megumi's shoulders.

"Well, that was quite a meeting," you smiled. "But I have to meet Yaga and deliver some reports. I hope you have a good afternoon, see you later!"

"I'll go with you." Gojo intertwined his finger with yours.

"And your students?"

"They know how to take care of themselves, right guys?" Gojo smiled at his students and without letting them answer, he pulled you towards the exit of the mall. "Let's go home, I want to cuddle all day."

"You know I have some mission reports to deliver, right?"

"Nobody cares about reports!"

"You don't care about the reports, Toru." you said, emphasizing the 'you'.

"Oh come on sweets, I haven't seen you in a long time, I just want to spend some time with my beautiful and precious wife!" he pouted.

"Okay, Toru, but tomorrow I'll deliver the reports, got it?" you squeeze his hand three times.

"Whatever my queen wants!"

seonghrtz͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏© ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ⎯⎯ all rights reserved. please do not copy/steal/translate any of my works !!

Thinking about virgin!inosuke that doesn’t understand his feelings towards you and is kind of shy about it at first almost afraid of messing up and hurting you but when you finally reassure him his instincts kick in and he goes feral….just a thought

SAY YES 2 HEAVEN

a/n: continuation of this. ARRRGHHH also i swear i couldve written this better i kinda hate this lol / tagging @jabamin @shotorus @hyomagiri @crysugu @valberry @lov3rbody ✩

wc: 4.1k (got carried away again ! lord help me)

warnings: dad!gojo, fem!reader, he is enamoured with you, dom!gojo, calls you ‘mama’, also like slight daddy kink, sex while pregnant, lactation kink, pregnancy kink, implied f! masturbation, oral / cunnilingus, fingering, clit stimulation, praise, pet names, spitting, mating press, multiple rounds, overstimulation, unprotected sex, creampie / breeding kink, n*sfw under the cut

✩ dilf!gojo . . .

. . . who, when you were pregnant, could never get enough of your glow. sure, you’d look tired and worn out half the time but gojo thought you never looked better cradling your belly whilst you took your afternoon nap, or when you’d do some light chores around the house (you won over gojo trying to stop you). not to mention, your breasts were fuller and heavier with milk, soaking through your slip dresses often that he’s had to hide his hard-on more and more.

. . . who, on more than one occasion has had your tits caged within his hand: watching television, in naps, sex, he was unbelievably obsessed with the way the fabric around your nipples would leak and darken in colour. all he wanted was to knead them as he eats up your delicious moans, sucking hickies into your throat and holding your baby bump with his other hand. and then when satoru first peels the dress off of you, he whimpers, admiring the way your tits lactate and leak milk from its tip.

“s—satoru—” you’re sat sideways on his lap like the sweet girl you are and the first contact of his tongue around your nipple makes you let out a long moan. the sensitivity is all too much for you together with the heaviness of your belly and your hormones spiking and your husband simply smiles into your skin. he slurps at the liquid that drips from your tits, groaning into your breasts and the vibrations makes you clench your thighs together. it doesn’t go unnoticed by him when he’s got his hand between them, playing lazily with your clit and he presses a little harshly into your bundle of nerves and it draws such a beautiful cry and a spurt of your milk from your nipples right into his mouth. satoru cleans up well, noises similar to when he’d eat you out, “mmh… such perfect tits, mama, leaking so much milk just f’r me.” ✩

. . . whose hands look more rugged than he was young, fingertips a certain roughness to it from the boxes of the furniture of the nursery he’s carried to the training he still partakes in for young sorcerers. but they look especially pretty when he cuts up strawberries and bananas for your pancakes and later on, a teacup that barely makes its appearance in his hand from just how large he was in comparison to your baby girl’s tea set. your eyes also like to trail his hands as they skillfully weave your girl’s hair in a braid, hypnotised in which he uses his teeth to drag the hair tie to his fingers. satoru has a different opinion — he likes to see it on your belly when he wants to feel the baby kick and on your plush thighs when he’s teasing you, so close yet so far to your uncomfortable cunt.

. . . who uses your badly shaven job against you when his lips graze along your still full breasts and down to your torso. you can feel him drag the stubble against your inner thighs and it’s like he’s relishing in the way you squirm and thrash around on the bed, but the gojo below you is the culmination of multiple years of missions and caring for a baby girl. he looks so damn stunning between your legs as he usually does, except his features are more wrinkly and lenient and gentle, white strands turning just a little silver — it may just be the trick of the light.

but the way he eats you out has never changed — he’s already gone past making you beg for it. a hand on your inner thighs, caressing the skin and letting him do his damage, but it’s usually not long that gojo needs to hear you. “i heard you like this?” he laughs as he uses his teeth to pull at your underwear as he lifts your hips like you weigh nothing and his eyes are fixated on the way you’re leaking so much that there’s a string of arousal that connects your panties to your pussy. “’toru . .” you’re whining, grasping at nothing ’cause your belly was just too big. he finds your hand easily and twines your fingers. “yeah, angel?” with your legs propped up, he can appreciate the glory of your soaking pussy, and he thinks your tummy just looks divine, carrying a whole new life within it and still looking beautiful as ever. you preen when his mouth licks a stripe up your cunt and you can practically feel the stubble along your pussy lips. “mmh— was made to eat your pussy out, mama.” it’s no different from before. gojo eats you out with his skillful tongue, lapping at your folds and clit messily. you’re squeezing his hands at the intense sensations and he squeezes right back, other hand slowly drawing circles around your clenching, needy hole.

“look at ‘er,” gojo moans softly in awe as his finger parts your folds and he eases it in, your cunt automatically clamping down. you were right — they did feel rougher, bigger — it’s like you can feel the pads of his fingers and the lines on his digits. “so damn wettt . .” gradually he adds another and starts pumping them, moaning alongside you as your filthy husband nuzzles the bottom of his face into your sex and the prickle of his facial hair is so prominent — you just have to grind your hips onto his face. “careful of the baby, darling.” he lightly warns, fairly muffled, but he lets his little wife continue whatever she’s doing. “’toru, ’toru— needa c-cum . .” you’re whimpering, looking like a greek goddess as you’re dripping, dripping, all over satoru’s chin. “yeah? give it to daddy, baby, c’mon.” he moans into your clit, slurping up your juices mercilessly as his fingers reach so deep in you. “that’s right, that’s my girl— oooh fuckk . . . so much cum for me—” you’re cumming with a loud cry, plump thighs squeezing his head and he only presses his tongue deeper into your core as flood his tongue with your juices. he smacks his lips together and shoots you a smirk, “what a sweet thing my lil wife is — sweetest pussy too.” ✩

. . . who has to fuck you at least once while you’re pregnant, but he hadn’t imagined he would get so addicted to the look of your body rocking back and forth, so limp and pliant for him, especially with how he could easily do anything to you with how strong he was and yet you’re surrending everything up to him. satoru who has you in all sorts of positions where he can look at your supple breasts bounce as you cradle the baby in anxiety with one arm and the other is lining his back in red. and he hadn’t expected you’d be so horny too.

. . . whose dick you just can’t get enough of, pouncing on him once he’s gotten home from missions all sweaty and out of breath and your heart gets caught in your throat. guiding your hand to your little cunt when you wake in the morning to his toned chest and the look of soon-to-be-father looking so good on him. sending him little voice notes as you go on appointments by yourself (gojo hates himself for having a mission clash), but the contrast of your husband’s tear-filled apology before your needy audios is a stark contrast, fingers rubbing at your clit in the hospital toilet, unsatisfied. high-pitched whines whenever his cock would kiss your cervix juuust right and moaning how you want his cum in you, again

your husband throws his head back when he first sinks into you, but not before he slaps his cock along your folds, already soaking the sheets from the four times he’s made you cum. “f—fuck, so warm in here, baby.” gojo presses your hands to his lips and lays multiple kisses along it, even licking at your fingers and keeping his eyes locked on you while plunging them into your mouth. the gesture is sensual, hips rocking into you while his tongue glides over your fingers; he brings it to your clit after, helping you and satoru hopes he wouldn’t cum too early. especially when your hair is all splayed out with that glow along your cheeks. the position accentuate the curves of your body and your swelling stomach, and fuck, if he could paint, the image of your anatomy would be burned into his brain. “s’full, daddy.” he simply caresses your sore belly, “yeah? is it now?” he’s buried all the way to the hilt and the deepness sends a chill up your spine, “takin’ me like the good girl you are.”

“satoru, satoru, mmhhfuck,” your hands are holding into his forearms so tightly as he rocks into you, legs wrapped around his waist to trap him with your pussy and you truly wish your baby bump would be bigger so you didn’t have to look at your husband’s fucked out face and sweaty locks, grunts leaving his mouth as he continues to fuck into you with firm, solid thrusts. “w-what is it, sweeth— s-shit, this pussy’s too fuckin’ good.” you mewl at the words, staring up at him through hooded lids and a lax jaw. “tell me what— fuucck— you want, baby,” your words are beyond comprehensible, so you only can moan louder and babble over and over again, “cum— wan’ your cum, wan’ your cum, ’toru!” and gojo has a full blown aneurysm at the way you beg even when you were already knocked up. gojo’s breath and hips stutter at the way you hold onto his arm and plead, cumming straight into the warmth of your cunt with a loud groan. “don’t know how much i love your cunt, sweets.” ✩

. . . who, once you give birth to your baby girl, has never stopped thirsting over you, but he’s a little more considerate in letting your body rest. most of the time he’s pleasuring you just as you were with your baby bump, always the quickest to stand up and run to the nursery when he’d hear the baby’s cries or pass off him being between your legs as just wrestling as your darling girl gets another terrible nightmare. satoru has put you first, always, but lately the chivalrous acts that he’s been doing is landing you in a position of a dilemma — between decorum of a mother and the filthiness of a wife whose husband is just too hot.

. . . who stands out to you more with his new found love for tight black shirts and low riding sweatpants, always prancing around the penthouse with it glued to his body and accentuates just the best parts of his body. you weren’t sure if it was the post pregnancy hormones doing its job or whatever, but there are many times where you can see yourself staring a little too much: on movie nights when he manspreads and adjust his hips, one hand tucked behind the sofa and you can see the muscles in his arm moving. all gojo asks is “take a picture. it’ll last longer, baby,” and you just roll your eyes, but not before one more glance to his inviting lap. when it’s the morning and you’re already up tending to the baby, bouncing her around and breastfeeding her before your head snaps to the low, raspy greeting and you’re blessed with satoru and his arm up on the doorframe, watching you. he’s yawning and scratching at his torso while the sweatpants ride low, showing a peek of his v-line and happy trail. he’s giving you the sweetest, yet somehow sexiest smile as he saunters up to you, surrounded by his toned body and strong arms.

. . . who knows what he’s doing when he sees your distracted stares to the point your baby girl has to drag your hand full of food to her mouth; or in times of sleepiness in the dawn where all he wears are boxers and he has the gift of hearing your not so quiet gasp when you see him emerge from the bathroom after his morning skincare. what really seals the deal though, is the day you had a reunion with the students of jujutsu high, a nice little picnic out near tokiwa bridge and gojo just had to show his girls off — what was meant to be a wholesome day turned into thoughts of your husband’s physique as he challenges nanami to a “carry-off”, the still stoic sorcerer not even bothering to participate as gojo swoops you both into his arms. your daughter on his right and you on his left, and you’re scrambling to grab his shoulder. it sinks into you like an anchor: just how fit he was, the lines of his tense arm, the cheeky wink he sends to you while you’re up there. you only hope he can’t feel your pussy throb from that.

“you alright, darling?” your baby’s asleep comfortably on your chest, and your eyes can only burn holes into the hand that’s resting on your thigh, swallowing before facing your husband who only seemed to get hotter the more he ages. when you turn to him he’s already looking at you, a lopsided smile on his face before he breaks eye contact and steps on the gas when the traffic light turns green, letting out a loaded exhale when you grab his hand and twine your fingers.

that two person carry has been etched onto your mind long after you’ve reached the penthouse along with everything that’s been going on, but you’re interrupted when satoru squeezes your hand, pulling you into his embrace while keeping your darling girl asleep. he’s skilled at that, as he is with his lips, pressing a deep kiss to your mouth. you can feel your stomach turn with anticipation, tasting his gloss as he whispers “should we order takeout tonight?”

you hum, “i can cook, ’toru.”

his hands feel hot on your waist, “rest today, baby. we did spend a whole day in the hot sun,” they draw circles on your lower back, “plus, we have that event tomorrow, don’t wanna tire you out.”

“the event’s at night you goof,” you laugh, a slow hand stroking your daughter’s hair. stark white and striking as always.

“still.” he grins and winks like there’s some ulterior motive, leaning in to kiss you again before your girl rouses and yawns.

“good morning, my love.” satoru coos as she finds her bearings, looking around in confusion and only being able to focus on her father’s hand on her hair.

“na-na-min?” the awkward plea in her voice would drive gojo to burn the world down, to call nanami right now to meet up again, but he knows all that would only warrant annoyance. he could call yuji, but he did mention something about having dinner with his partner tonight.

gojo feels bad to be breaking her heart like this, “no, darling, ’m sorry.” his heart breaks even more when she breaks into a slight cry and he attempts to quell her sobs by baby-talking her.

“c’mon, why don’t you let papa carry you, and mama can head off to take care of herself, hm?” he suggests with a big grin, mood changing instantly as he plucks her out of your arms, again emphasising his strong arms when they hold her on one side and curl another around you. “go clean up first. i’ll settle dinner for her.”

but the shower seemed to be a bad idea at the time, emerging from the steamy bathroom to see your husband with his shirt off and the baby already all cleaned up and fed. she was swaddled in her most comfortable blanket, the fabric of it peeping out from the side as your eyes focus on the rippling muscles of gojo’s back. he bounces the baby gently as he burps her, muttering little praises and sounds.

“oh, baby—” he catches sight of you in the doorway in a towel and he only smiles, not knowing how you were trying to digest just how broad his shoulders were and how small his waist was. had he always been so fine?

“heard about skin to skin contact with your baby,” he whispers, “says it increases our bond.”

and if you could, you’d drag him back to the chapel all over again to renew your vows, because you didn’t expect him to be such a sap. you also didn’t expect him to read you so well. the baby’s asleep and it’s well past midnight, masking yet another shaky sigh when your body sinks more into his side.

“satoru—”

“yeeess . .?” 

you stand up with vigour you didn’t think you have, plopping yourself down onto his lap and all he does is smile slyly. the way his bare body moves as he leans back is enough drive for you to shut him up.

“haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”

“oh? you have a crush on me?”

so infuriating as always. you roll your eyes and grind down on him, igniting such a familiar and archaic feeling that you haven’t felt in a long time: his bulge against you, the soft groan he lets out. he’s always been treating you time and time, and yet he puts his own needs on hold. a perfect husband like him waited only for you to initiate things, and yet you wonder why it took you so long. maybe it was the baby taking up most of your time, maybe it was him being on missions and coming home dead-beat tired.

maybe you knew you’d never turn back if you indulged yourself — pushing out a whole baby wasn’t exactly easy. but you’ve missed him. on you, in you.

“we’re married, you dumbass.”

“still in disbelief, my bad.” gojo laughs, “is there anything you wanna tell me?”

you sigh, pulling him to you so your foreheads would touch. you breathe onto his lips — “please take care of me.”

oh, gojo satoru did take care of you and more, burying his face between your legs and making you cum over and over. he made your voice hoarse and your thighs ache, juices soaking the sheets from just how wet you were.

“oh, you needed this, huh?”

“shut up.” gojo moans when you push him back onto your cunt, already having orgasmed thrice just from his tongue. he was skillful and he knew it, just as much as he knew just how tight you’d be when he smeared your cum all over your pussy and pushed past your folds. satoru whines at the tightness, at having missed your cunt wrapped around him for so long that he can tears prickling at the corners of his eyes.

“f—fuck . . so fuckin’ good, s’tight . .” you’re not that well off, either, thinking the shower was a waste of water as your sweaty stomach heaved in anticipation while he bottomed out. gojo cries out in a choked moan, “you feel so g—good, mama.”

“w-who’s needing it now?” you breathe out, fingers digging into his shoulders so harshly it hurt. you catch a glimpse of satoru’s smile and a shake of his head — you’d need to be carried tomorrow, for sure.

he pulls out and slams back in so accurately you let out a loud moan, insides turning to mush after so long. the feel of him filling you up is like none other, pussy gripping onto him like a vice. you can’t remember the last time you let him take you.

“so p-perfect for me—” gojo rasps out, looking at you drunkenly. the mother of his child, his wife, it weighs on him and he just thinks he needs to fuck you until you know how much joy you bring to his life. your body rocks as your lover fucks into you, hovering over your body and looking so ethereal. his hair falls into his eyes that you just have to pull him down, crashing your lips against his. the moans he lets out against your face is lovely and you can feel his cock twitch as your legs wrap around his waist.

“‘toru— shiiitt . .” your back arches off of the bed, body caving into satoru like second nature. he lets out babbles against your lips, room filled with the sounds of his balls slamming into your ass, coupled with your weeping pussy, coating his length with all that you can give to him. “so deep—”

“that’s ’cause you’re suckin’ me in, baby—” he laughs breathlessly, cutting off your answer with another kiss, feeling the brush of pelvic bone against your clit. it’s all you need to cum hard, still sensitive after so long and your pussy clenches around gojo’s shaft even tighter; it gets gojo whining into the kiss before he reaches his high too, spilling into you with wide eyes and stuttering hips. you moan at the sensation, eyes pleading your husband for more, more, more. 

“forgot how much i loved doing that, f-fuck—” gojo hums as he removes your legs from his waist, pushing you into a deep mating press and you squeal when you feel his cock barely hit your g-spot in this new position, “yeah? ya feel that?”

you nod mindlessly, hands now holding onto his forearms before his hips start moving again and you’re left to whining like a slut. your thighs dig into your chest as gojo folds your body in half, rutting into you messily. there’s so much cum, mixed in filthily as your words only descend into incoherence.

“yes, yes, yes!” are all you can manage as gojo grunts from above you: his stubble, his broad shoulders, his matured face, they all look beautiful in the cold night. he’s so focused on the way your cunt sucks him in, hips stammering when your hand comes into view to rub your clit. “give it all t’me, daddy.”

there’s a small growl that leaves his lips at that, pace reaching an animalistic one as he angles his hips. “open y’mouth.” 

satoru is driven crazy when you obey silently, and he has to push deeper into you to reach your mouth, making you falter and pull your brows together — you recover fast enough to catch the spit hanging from his mouth, dribbling slowly into your mouth even when gojo’s hips never stop their assault.

“attagirl,” he praises, smiling softly at the way your pussy twitched at that. he knows you’re close by the look in your eyes, grasping aimlessly at his shoulders. 

“gonna let me cum in you again? hm?” gojo’s thrusts are sloppy now, fuelled by the squelch of your drooling cunt, “gonna let daddy put another baby in you?”

you mewl at that, “wan’ that— want all of it—” intoxicated on his cock, they hit the deepest parts of you; you know and love the way his tip hits your sweet spot, you know and love the way the shaved pubes of his pelvis brush up against your clit so well.

“take it then—” gojo grunts, holding your legs up and meets your eyes and the simple call of his name has him shivering. he cums deep, shooting his load so white and hot in you that you’re moaning loudly at the feeling, hand on your clit increasing in pace before your fifth for the night, legs trembling in his grip and your mouth falls open in a silent scream. 

gojo thinks you’re god. “that’s it— shit, take all of my cum, mama.” you can barely see blue, rather seeing spots of white that fill your vision and you get dizzy and overstimulated, groaning finally when he removes his cock from you. so much cum spills out, pussy pushing it out and satoru bites his lips at the sight.

but you both know you’re far from done when gojo lies on his back, ulterior motive fulfilled when he sees you climb on top of him and drag your pussy along the base of his dick. with you like this, stretch marks and plumpier breasts, you still look as beautiful as you did before the baby, letting you interlock your fingers with his. 

your mouth falls open in a soft “satoru” as you sink down onto his still hard, leaking cock and he never wants to look at anyone else ever again, lest he misses even one second of witnessing a goddess like you at work.

gojo cannot resist sitting up to meet you halfway in a soft kiss (“thank you, ’toru. you always take care of me so well.”) and it gives him all the confirmation he needs when your hips first move and the moans and the lewd sounds of your cunt sound more heavenly than all the choirs in the world.

“it’s what you deserve, baby. only the best.”

» Pretty Boy

Smokey Eyes 👁👁

「 A dangerous look … 」

Just thought… what if…

𝐋𝐲𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐬

Feat. yandere! Izuku Midoriya x fem! reader

A series

cw: yandere themes, violence, suicidal thoughts, blood, gore, manipulation, stalking, kidnapping, quirkless! au, weapons, murder, angst

˗ˏˋ+ ´ˎ˗ Starting a new school, Izuku doesn't expect much besides the constant harassments, but the sight of a certain girl catches his eye and his downfall begins.

In which, Izuku's love begins to stifle F/n.

(coming october 1st)

D̴̦̟͙̹͈̲̻̆̈́̄̏̆͘ͅȍ̴͇̐͂͘͝ ̸͖͕͖̙̻̗͇́̆̓͊̊̀͝n̷̞̼̪̈́ó̴͙͎̼͓͖̘̦̠̱̿͗̐̌͑͠ͅt̵̜͈̰̝̰̳͓̝̗̋̃̉̏̀͒͘̕ ̵̫̻̦̑̋f̵̻̳̼̽͗̀̓̋̀̏̔͠o̷͔̼͠r̴̬̙͙̖͈̖̼͐͘͜͝ğ̵̩͈͔̉̋̆̂͌́͋͠ȩ̷̯̼̗͈͔͓͌̅̿t̷̻͕̭͖̤̫̑̈́̑̅͌̆́ ̷̡̧̣̮͈̋͒͐́̄͊̕̕ḿ̴̡͔̳͈͙̞̈́͂̿̊͜͝e̵͍̬̥͕̻̼͎̊͆̔.̶͖̗̼̬͖̼̼̞͖́̉̃͋̀̽

playlist!

Flesh and Bone ✿ Brendan Benson Treehouse ✿ Alex G Special Death ✿ Mirah Empty Words ✿ Bowery Electric Your face ✿ Wisp 4:00 A.M ✿ Taeko Onuki Me and the Devil ✿ Soap&Skin Killing Me Softly with His Song ✿ Fugees You're Gonna Miss Me ✿ Connie Francis Edge of the World ✿ Dayshell Let Go ✿ Ark Patrol Still Here ✿ Digital Daggers The Devil Within ✿ Digital Daggers Animal ✿ Sir Chloe Rabid Love ✿ Gorgeous Bully Misery Loves Company ✿ Gorgeous Bully Scary Love ✿ The Neighborhood Beach Walk ✿ Whitewoods Nowhere To Run ✿ Stegosaurus Rex Never Land [A Fragment] ✿ The Sisters Of Mercy The Killing Moon ✿ Echo And The Bunnymen Soulvaki Space Station ✿ Slowdive Sing ✿ Slowdive Miranda ✿ Slowdive Melon Yellow ✿ Slowdive Nausea ✿ Craft Spells Various Types of Ads ✿ Rory in early 20s Here She Comes ✿ Slowdive Crazy For You ✿ Slowdive A Quick One Before the Eternal Worm Devours Connecticut ✿ Have A Nice Life Soundtrack for Your Backseat ✿ sundiver ca Marigold ✿ Nirvana Beat ✿ Bowery Electric Salad Days ✿ Mac DeMarco Sony ✿ VHS Full Moon ✿ The Black Ghosts Floating World ✿ Bowery Electric Anemone ✿ The Brian Jonestown Massacre

table of contents:

Lotus Flower

Ì̶̢̩̬̩̝̱̝̙̺̉̿̋̒͌͝'̶̛̞͕̂̽͐͒̓͋̐̅̚͜l̵̘̙͗̇́̐̎͒̄͘ḻ̷̣́͊̔̀̽̿̚͜ ̸̧̡̜̯̖̠͉̥̰̖͋́̓͘n̸̪̻̤̙̫͙͂͗ḙ̸̺̥̭̏̽͌̎̈́͝͠v̴̧̙͔̮̙̰̲̄͘ê̷͈̓ŗ̸̛͈̜̟̙͚̤͙͉̯͌̔̑̽͠ ̵̜̰̬̹͊͌͂̌͗͋͠f̴̮͇̦͂̃͌̔͌̎̐̚ȯ̶̡͔r̴͔̼̖͐̅͒̑̕͝ġ̵́͌͑̈́̌̄ͅé̶̘͉̠̭͚͌̋̎̊̀̄̚͝͠ṭ̵̻̅̇͑̈́̆̽͊̇ ̸̫̳͎̗͙̅́̒͐̉̏͒͘y̷̪̝̔͛̓̕͠͠o̵̞̱̻̟̹͝ú̸̧̪̘͓̙̪̖̔͜.̶̮̭͓͍̝̗̍

DIE FOR YOU (8.2K)

— viking bakugou katsuki x reader

synopsis: your fiancé, chief of the strongest village, doesn’t believe you can protect yourself so when returns from a raid, he makes you prove him wrong.

warnings: 18+ content, minors don’t interact, ageless blogs don’t interact, female reader, referred to: (princess, baby, my lady), arranged marriage, lovey dovey, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, fingering (f), p to v, pull out method, chief kink lol, whole load of kissing, big three: (angst, fluff, smut), arguing, separately they physically wrestle lol, mention of blood, beard bakugou, yn is a girl boss.

notes: PART THREE TO FOR YOU MY VIKING BKG SERIES! can be read as a standalone! this is another big boy so if there’s typos don’t look at me.

life with your new fiancé has improved dramatically since you told him everything you hated about it.

mornings are filled with your feet in the lake, face filled with pastry as you kiss the sugar off katsuki’s lips. evenings include you eventually shifting from your seat at the dinner and ending up in his lap at the head of the table, licking your thumb to remove a scrub of dirt on his skin as he stuffs a spoon of food in your mouth.

the days are much longer too now, filled with books, new friends and helping out the people in the village. some days you’ll find yourself helping a family bake for their youngest’s birthday or chatting with an old man at the river. your favourite times are randomly turning up wherever katsuki is. 

this time they’re in the basement of your home, planning the next raid in a town far over. the mood is nothing but vulgar and violent, with drawings across a half-torn map, knives stabbed in the wooden table, and candlelight helping their vision. all the men are so large, furs at their necks from an animal they recently killed with laughs that rock their whole bodies. you only see him though, slouching in his seat, sighing at his army’s rambunctiousness and raking a hand through his blonde hair.

he meets your eyes from across the room as soon as you open the door. you think it’s mostly his sharp instincts but you like to think it’s mostly because it’s you. katsuki quickly sits up straighter, wiping his mouth in case there are any stray crumbs and opens his arms out to you. he makes your heart sing, your head lightweight as you make your way over to him. 

“uh oh, it’s lady bakugou!”

your fiancé always curses his army and even more the closest ones out of the bunch. these four barely listen, they’re too loud and excited over nothing. but to you, they’re all quite cute despite their rather beastly demeanour. you know them by name now and they only refer to you as my lady or lady bakugou. you’ve said they could call you by your first name and while they say they will, you think katsuki is telling them otherwise.

you cover your mouth at the newfound attention, the whole room cheering at your arrival and laughter erupts from you. especially with how bakugou glares at his men but when he lands back on you, his eyes shine with pride.

“you look beautiful today, my lady!” deku, or izuku says. deku is what your fiancé calls him.

“i hope you bring up the chief's spirits, he’s being a pain tonight,” kirishima chuckles and he’s the only one who could get away with saying that about katsuki.

“thank you for the cream you made for me! it doing great for my scars!” kaminari smiles, the womaniser of the group.

you even get a small wave from todoroki, who’s much calmer and always so stunning. katsuki says he only seems calmer because everyone else is so loud, he’s just as crazy as the rest of them. 

you send your smiles and nods, replying to each comment and noticing how none of them touch you.

lastly, you’re back on katsuki who yanks you in his arms right when you’re in his vicinity. he speaks right into your ear and tingles trickle down your spine, “i told you not to come down here, baby.”

baby is a new pet name he now calls you since you cooed at how kirishima called his new wife that. 

“gorgeous,” you moan. gorgeous is your new pet name for him because he is exactly that. he used to frown at the word, adamant at how he isn’t anything like that. that word should be reserved for you. but you kept with it and annoyingly, his head turns every time you say it. 

“i don’t like you hearin’ this shit,” he’s firm, hands at your hips as you stand between his legs, peering down at him.

you roll your eyes, “you do realise i’ve heard this shit since i was a child back home, right? none of this is a surprise.”

“i don’t give a fuck. if you don’t need to hear it, then you’re not,” he slaps your ass as if to get you moving but you stay still between his legs, your face turning into stone.

you’re about to snap back at him, ready to dispute everything he said when kirishima speaks up from behind you.

“oh yn! momo told me about what happened a few days ago? are you alright?”

you turn your head in slow motion, your already furrowed eyebrows hardening with a glare that could kill. kirishima stills looking between your anger and bakugou’s confusion.

you begin, “oh erm—,”

“what the fuck happened a few days ago?”

the room simmers to silence, bakugou’s hands on your hips burning through your clothes and into your skin. all his men are on edge, darting between every face and avoiding you and your fiancé. kirishima is bright red, filled with regret.

you put on a face of nonchalance, crossing your arms across your chest, “nothing.”

bakugou exhales roughly, pinching the bridge of his nose in impatience, “fuck that, tell me what happened. why’s he askin’ if you’re okay?”

“i said it’s nothing, katsuki!” your arms shake in the air in exasperation, trying to get out of his grasp but he holds on tight.

“yn look at me. you’re gonna tell me or he is. who do you want me to hear it from?” he bites, ruby eyes glowing and staring down your soul. he looks like everything a chief should look like. fur around his shoulders, his bare chest showing underneath, ropes and ropes of jewellery around his neck. thick hoop earrings litter his lobes, shining in the candlelight. he doesn’t intimidate you, all the wealth and strength he breathes. especially since half of it is yours now.

you growl, shaking out of his grip and to your surprise he lets go of you, “momo and i went out to the neighbouring village and this man cornered me. he said stuff about you, but it’s fine i kicked him off me and momo and i came back here.”

bakugou blinks. his jaw close to locking as he studies your body like it’s something he should have known just by looking at you. how the fuck did this not get back to him? why didn’t you tell him? were you not as close as he thought?

his heart races in his chest, questions flooding his brain. he looks to kirishima who nods slowly, confirming his thoughts and then his gaze snaps back to you.

“this was two days ago? the day you brought me back flowers?”

you grit your teeth, folding your arms against your chest and looking away defensively, “yes.”

“did he fuckin’ touch you?” he spits and you refuse to look at your fiancé. “kirishima!” he barks and you shy away from the volume.

the redhead sits up straight, scratching his head, “uh, yes chief, my wife said the guy had his forearm on my lady’s neck.”

“he wasn’t even there!”

“is that true?” he sounds steady, flaming anger under his words. he looks much calmer than your uncontrolled annoyance though you can tell exactly how he feels. so much rage that he can only stay this unsettling calm. you don’t know what else to do but nod.

“but i fought him off me!”

bakugou ignores that, “why the fuck didn’t you tell me?”

“because you act like this! you don’t think i can’t fight for myself!”

“i’m actin’ like this ‘cause you lied to me,” the realisation hurts, burns. 

“i never lied—,” 

bakugou leans in to your face, the sweet lover you know in your mornings and evenings gone. 

“and i’m actin’ like this because you shouldn’t be fightin’ anyone and nobody should be touchin’ you!”

you push him out your face by his shoulders and the whole table freezes at the contact. you climb out from between his legs, “oh fuck off, bakugou! you don’t know anything about me and what i can do!”

you storm out of the room, your dress blowing behind you with the speed as you slam the door shut. everyone can hear your footsteps rushing up the steps into the main house.

the silence is deadly in the room, bakugou resting his chin in his palm deep in thought and boiling anger.

“wives, am i right?”

“shut up, kaminari.”

“sorry chief, i thought you knew—,”

bakugou rises to his feet, leaning over the table, “fuck the old plan, we’re changin’ the raid.”

you don’t come to dinner which bakugou expected though he can’t deny how his vexation fizzles out at the sight of your bedroom door closed and is replaced with sadness. you’ve been sleeping in his room since the first night you spent together and somehow it feels as if you’ve both gone backwards. 

he’s not apologising, he’s still furious that you didn’t tell him that someone tried to hurt you. how the fuck is he supposed to be a good husband if you don’t tell him shit?

he knocks his hand on the door, exhaustion from the evening finally seeping into his bones. he leans his forehead onto the wood, “baby, it’s me. lemme talk to you.”

his men would be shocked at how he’s acting right now, that there isn’t a grudge towards you as he has for so many people. bakugou’s fury can last lifetimes, he isn’t one to forgive and forget. but right now with you, he wants nothing more than to have you in his arms again.

katsuki knocks again. “baby, open up,” then he pauses, this time pressing his ear to the door, “are you even fuckin’—,” 

his hand goes to the handle, swinging the door to find out you’re nowhere to be seen. he doesn’t know if it’s hope or worry that shakes him first. bakugou stomps down the corridor into his room and you aren’t there either.

“where the fuck did you go?” he speaks to the open air before running down to the lower floors.

“sophie! have you seen my wife? where is she?” he barks but sophie, his head housemaid, doesn’t jump. instead, her green eyes soften with empathy and worry.

“chief, i have not seen her? is my lady missing?”

he doesn’t want to admit that he doesn’t know where you are, or the worst, that you’re missing or you left him. who knows what his enemies will do with that information?

“no she’s… fuck,” he rubs a rough hand down his face, “she’s not missin’ but if you see my wife tell me immediately.”

bakugou doesn’t catch sophie’s response, rushing out to the back of his home. where would you go? he flings his head up to the midnight sky like it would give him answers but the sound of the wind brushing through the leaves only makes him think of how he could have made your last conversation smoother. 

bakugou kicks a rock, “fuck!” glancing up from his boot to his lake hidden within greenery and trees, the one he bathes in. “if you’re not there, may god help me.”

at this point, you’re all out of tears. you’re not even sure what you’re crying about, to be honest, maybe everything. you don’t want to be treated like a helpless little dear, unable to do anything herself, hidden away from the intricacies of the world. you don’t think he should be the one to decide what you can and can’t see either.

you hug your knees to your chest before dropping them in a crossed leg position to take your hand through the lake. it always brings you peace to be out here, the beats of the crickets and the faint hoots of owls. even knowing daisy, your fiancé's horse isn’t too far away. though worst of all, it reminds you of him and all the kisses you’ve shared in this exact position, your feet dipped in the water.

you sniff into your hand, then not even bothering to feel alarmed at the footsteps behind you. you know all the exits where someone can find this lake and you know the pattern of the steps.

“there you are. i went fuckin’ crazy back there.”

you don’t bother to turn around, staring at how the moonlight reflects off the water.

you feel him sit beside you, the same as you did in the morning when you ate breakfast. just his proximity makes you feel warmer like it’s instinctive to wrap your arms around his neck in a cuddle. you don’t though, just like he expected so he sighs.

“i’m not apologisin’ to you, i meant what i said,” he states, glancing at your side profile before staring back at the lake. he crosses his legs beside you too.

“if your mind’s already made up then why did you look for me? go back inside.” 

bakugou grunts, you have a tight grip on his heart because he doesn’t know anyone else who talks to him like you do. he craves it.

he decides to lie back on the grass, opting to look at the sky.

“i can’t be a good husband if—,”

“if i don’t talk to you,” you whisper and bakugou hums softly.

“yeah, baby. so talk to me.” it’s almost pleading, to hear the thoughts rattling through your head.

“you treat me like a princess who you can just lock away in a castle. nice for you to look at and touch but i can’t do anything else,” you lay back in the grass, studying the stars, “i am a chief’s daughter, the same way you’re a chief’s son. i grew up learning the same things as you.”

you let your words hang in the air and bakugou crosses his arms across his chest. 

“okay, i’m protective over you. i don’t want you dyin’ when i can just keep you safe instead.”

you let out an annoyed sigh, “you’re not listening to me. i can fight and plan raids too. i’ve been on raids since i was a teen. i don’t need protection to get a man off me when i go visiting villages. you’re going to be my husband, not my prison guard.”

bakugou knows he knows these things. you’ve mentioned bits on how you can fight, he’s seen your aim when you throw knives that day you were showing kirishima and deku. he knows you’re not ignorant to what happens on raids, the murders, the stealing, the brutality. though he guesses he never connected that part of his life to you, the most beautiful person he knows.

“i know that, i get you’ve never been sheltered. still doesn’t mean i want you around that shit,” he turns his head to stare you down, “it also doesn’t mean you should be lyin’ to me. if people are hurtin’ you because of me, it hurts me too.”

“then the issue isn’t me! it’s you, they hurt your pride by hurting your possession!”

“you’re not my fuckin’ possession! anyone who hurts you, hurts me and should pay—,”

you begin to sit up at the same time bakugou reaches out to you. you're too emotional, angry and you don’t have time to perceive the hand as anything close to caring. you snatch his wrist with speed, twisting it so if he moves pain will shoot down his forearm.

he stops mid sentence, staring up at you with pent up fire behind his eyes. you stare back with warning yet surprised at yourself for reacting so quickly.

you hold his wrist tight and even though he can use his other hand to pull you off him or even his legs, he doesn’t. you both narrow your eyes at each other. he knows he’s ruined because he finds your lips first to stare at, then how your chest heaves and the soft curve of your breasts under your dress. katsuki forgets about his wrist in your grasp until he tries to touch you again.

“fuck, who taught you this?” he winces and to his luck, you let go.

“my father.” you snap, tearing away from the beauty of your lover. he’s got his engagement ring on a silver chain around his neck instead of his finger and it’s something you find yourself staring at. your possession over him.

then you sigh, “fine, i should have told you but you can’t blame me for not. i’m not a precious little thing that can’t defend herself. i can.”

he hates going back on his word though he will for you, “you’re precious to me.”

you roll your eyes, ignoring the warmth that spreads around you, “katsuki.”

he huffs a small laugh, “i get it. i’m underestimatin’ you and i know you’re strong. you’re stronger than me in so many ways.”

you want to smooth the two lines between his brows with your thumb, kiss the stubble on his face. “and?”

“i’ll stop sayin’ you can’t be around the boys when we talk about raidin’ and other shit,” though you notice the frown deepen when he says it, “i will be getting revenge on those that hurt you though because they deserve to feel the fuckin’ pain. you’d do that for me, wouldn’t you?”

you don’t turn away from his gaze, you nod, “yes i will.”

“the first agreement of the night.”

you exhale, “the difference is you wouldn’t want me to though. you’d think i’d get killed.”

bakugou grunts, “we’re goin’ in circles, princess.”

you rise to your feet, calling it a night, “i can trust you will come back alive, that you’re good at what you do and you’re strong. you don’t think i’m strong enough to even hear about what goes on let alone believe i can be apart of it. that’s the difference.”

“princess, don’t walk away,” katsuki sits up, but you’re already off.

you ignore him, making your way towards the main house.

“i’m out tomorrow, i’ll be back in a few days,” he blurts, referring to the raid he’s been planning in the opposite village.

you always spend the night together when you know he’s not coming back soon. you have enough faith to know he will always come back so it’s mostly messy, ego-boosting sex about all the shit he wants to impress you with. you’ll miss him tremendously and you know you will even more this time round without it.

you continue your route indoors, running straight up the stairs and into your room.

bakugou holds his head in his hands before letting out a roar of anger. “fuck!” after spending so much time together, he has so much to learn about you and so much to change about himself.

it’s late by the time katsuki makes it indoors, pausing at your door before turning away. by the time you wake up, you’re told he’s already set out for the raid.

usually, the duration of raids depends on how long they need to travel for. sometimes it can be done in an evening and most often it’s three days long. the first and third days are for travelling and prep and the second for the raid itself. the previous couple of times, katsuki loved to kiss in your ear, that he’ll be as quick as possible and how being away from you causes more pain than a stab wound ever could.

it’s been five days now and your fiancé isn’t back. villagers keep asking you when is he returning or when is their husband who went off in bakugou’s army is coming back. maids keep staring at you in worry when you opt to eat dinner alone by the lake. your friends keep you company and so does the library but despite it all, you miss your husband terribly.

you know he will return, you know he’s strong enough to destroy anything in his way though it doesn’t mean you want him out somewhere hurt. you’d much rather have him in your arms, head on your chest as he begs for you to read something to him.

what does piss you off the most though, is how he never said goodbye. that annoyance is enough for you to know he has to return unscathed so that you can push him around for doing that to you.

“y’still mad at me, princess?”

you’re in the kitchen after dinner in one of your comfy dresses and a head in the clouds. after many pleas that you could wash your own plate and cutlery, the maids and servants finally left you alone. the feeling of the cool water on your hands and staring out at the dark sky through the window somehow soothes your worrying thoughts. 

however the familiar voice behind you brings your daydreams to life, a sharp scream bursting out of you. you spin around and clutch the bucket you were using behind you. your heart races as you lock eyes, his usual bright ruby pupils dimmer. he’s got a tired, almost deluded grin on his messy beaded face. a fresh cut slashes through his eyebrow and his right cheekbone, causing your hand to fly to your face in a gasp. he’s filthy, dirt across his skin and his clothes are in tatters. his black cloak that he usually wears is nowhere to be seen, instead, his trousers are torn across the thighs with cuts at his black tunic over his arms and chest. 

bakugou takes one step towards you and there’s no control over your body when you run up into his arms. no care for the dirt and blood that coats him either. bakugou’s arms circle you, his nose breathing in the lavender scent of your hair.

“i’ll take that as a no?”

he’s warm, familiar and your heart feels like it’s mending just from his presence. until you realise what he said and you rip away from him with all your force. you’re arm's length away, giving him a deep frown.

“yes, i am mad at you! y-you can’t leave without saying goodbye to me!”

your fiancé seems to be all over the place, only half registering your words. you notice how there’s no limp in his step and his belt where he usually carries his weapons is still full though stained. stained with blood but the sight doesn’t sway you.

bakugou chuckles deep like his throat is dry then grabs your throat to slam his lips to yours. you accept it, letting him drink you in like you can cure his thirst.

katsuki moans, his arm curling above your ass to hold you close. you curve into his body, relaxing you after so many days on edge.

he parts for a breather but keeps his mouth over yours. you’re exchanging breaths back and forth, “holy fuck, i missed that. i missed you, princess.” 

you’re sure he’s getting blood and dirt on you but it doesn’t bother you. 

you nip down on his bottom lip, feeling him flinch in your arms before his mouth curves into a smile.

“fuck you for taking so long to return home too,” you snip, your arms linking around his neck. 

he doesn’t smell great, he smells like five days away from home with odd baths, grime and metallic bite of blood. you feel insane for the hot burn washing down your body at him being away for so long unexpectedly and finally appearing before you.

“i’m sorry baby, had some issues along the way,” he mumbles, pressing kiss upon kiss to your lips. they're quick pecks and he’s half amused by your neediness. there was a large part of bakugou expecting this to go the wrong way. you storming off from him again, continuing your argument from before. he loves the heat in your eyes, it’s what he needed after being away from you for literal days, the confusion between whether it’s lust or anger.

“i missed you too. hated not knowing,” you whisper, jumping up so he can catch you, your legs wrapping around your waist.

bakugou pushes you against the kitchen wall, ignoring the clangs of the bowls and pans and his nose stroking up your neck, “knowin’ what? you didn’t think i’d come home for you? can’t fuckin’ live without you, ‘course i’m comin’ back.”

your breaths are shaky as he ruts his hips against you, five days without him have been unsatisfying on top of the fear. you whine, lips parted as you take him in for another kiss. bakugou sucks your tongue hard, lifting you higher by the ass.

“i knew you’d come back to me. i didn’t like n-not knowing that you could be out there…,” a whine dribbles out of you as he opts to bruise your neck with nibbles of his teeth, “h-hurt.”

his hands roam your body, sneaking under your dress to feel your waist, the trim of your underwear and your soft breasts. katsuki groans into your neck like a beast, rolling his hips into you, “you care about me princess?”

you tap bakugou’s cheek, not hard enough to hurt but enough to wake him up out of his lust filled reverie.

“of course, i care about you,” you say, your tone softer than expected. 

bakugou’s shoulders drop, tension releasing from his body. he didn’t know he needed that to come from you, despite all the rabid need in the room.

katsuki sighs, a grubby hand holding your chin and he presses a kiss to your lips, before slotting his tongue against yours. you feel heavenly, you are heaven against him, especially after experiencing hell these past few days. you don’t care how he’s come back. it’s his first time stupidly thinking about his appearance and how you’d view him looking so vulgar, but from the way you’re trying to feel every part of him, he knows you don’t care.

“i care about you too,” his thumbs press into your soft stomach and your chin lifts when kisses land at your jaw, “i did so much thinkin’.”

you hum in reply, pulling his tunic up so he can drag it over his head. you feel every part of his chest, the smooth dips and curves. you’re breathless, “about what?”

“you,” he rumbles, katsuki’s hand moving to rub your clit over your underwear. there’s not much pressure with the fabric in between but it makes you weaken all the same, “how i sounded like i didn’t believe in you.”

you can barely remember your last conversation before this now that you have your legs wrapped around katsuki’s bare waist. he licks a stripe up your neck, his thumb rubbing slow circles just where you need. 

“what?”

“i do believe you, princess,” his voice is honey in your ears and you’re burning up so fast you can barely register what he says next, “but i want you to show me.”

bakugou puts you down on your feet slowly, and you’re holding him close to you so he doesn’t leave you again.

“what? what are you doing, katsuki?”

he pulls your arms from around his neck and gracefully the skirt to your dress falls. you’re beautiful, he cannot put into words how five days apart felt. the white of your dress has splotches of blood and dirt from him and it only riles him up more. nevertheless, he keeps to the plan.

bakugou rubs under his nose, “last time we were together, you said you could fight, you could protect yourself and that we were brought up the same. i don’t need to be so protective.” a calloused hand rubs against your cheek before stepping away, leaving you all flustered and flushed. 

“i’m always gonna be protective over you but i want you to show me that you can protect yourself.”

you blink at the man who stands completely serious before you.

“what are you asking me to do?” you cannot quell the heat in your stomach, how raw and masculine he looks before you. bakugou looks even bigger than he did when he left, with a new scar on his left pectoral, and bruising under his right rib. you notice no wounds apart from the open one on his eyebrow. there’s only one small candle by the bucket where you were cleaning and aside from that it’s the moonlight shining through. it makes him look gorgeous, white light on the left side of him, the other side in the shadows. the knives at his waist shine beautifully, multiple different shapes and sizes. you’d much rather fuck him than play this game.

“fight me, baby, take me down,” he says, expression ready for anything.

you frown, “really? but you’re already injured and sore.” your voice is featherlight, your hand coming up to touch his abdomen though bakugou snatches it before you can touch.

“just wanna see what you can do.”

now your eyebrows rise, “oh, you’re so confident i can’t do it that you’re offering yourself injured?”

there’s a cocky rise to his left cheek and a shrug, “you show me, princess.”

bakugou knows how to get you going in more ways than one, tilting his head to watch your pupils roam his body, thoughts going at a million miles.

does he really think you won’t be able to take him down? judging by the smirk on his cheeks and the way he scratches his head, leaving all the blades hanging by his waist free suggests so. 

you lift off the wall, “don’t go easy on me, chief.”

before bakugou has a chance to reply, you use the one thing you have over opponents who are clearly stronger than you, speed. it’s easy for you to manoeuvre around bakugou while he’s off guard, spinning around to him to harshly kick behind his knee. you’re sure to only kick one, leaving his large body to stumble awkwardly to the ground. a loud boom resonates throughout the house at the weight of his body. 

bakugou grunts beneath you and you’re thinking of him in parts. his arms, his legs, his hands. what can go where and how you can stop them. you’re next to kick him in the back, so his chest is on the ground, his cheek on the wooden floor. you rest a foot in the centre of his back, leaning all your body weight to keep him down as you reach to grab his arms to keep them behind his back.

however, your half injured chief of a fiancé is better than that, grabbing at your ankle and spinning around to lay on his back. you’re off balance as he chuckles, “speedy, are you?”

he’s got your foot but you’ve still got your arms. you hold onto his forearm that has you, twisting your hands against his skin in a burn and stomping on his bicep to let you go.

he does release you, not before locking your body around his thighs and with his hips, he thrusts you forward to lay on top of his body.

you’re out of breath, breathing warm and heavy over your fiancé’s face. you’re trapped between his thighs, and he grabs at your wrist.

“you’re beautiful, you know that?” he grins and it only makes you furious.

he’s flushed, bruised and bloody beneath you, plump lips you’d love to kiss and his hair is a complete mess. there’s a slight shine to him with the dirt and the sweat that’s stuck to his body for hours.

you growl, “i can knee you in your balls right now which will make you release your legs. don’t forget you left your waist open this whole time so i can grab a knife and stab you in your throat.”

you even unsheath a knife from his holder with your free hand, resting it on his throat, “flip me around and it goes right below your adam's apple with your own body weight as a force.”

your words are ragged and you notice bakugou’s eyes flick from each body part you mention. how honestly, right now, you’ve got the upper hand.

“does this turn you on, chief?” you tilt your head, eyes wild even though he’s got you pressed firmly against him andhe’s holding your arm at an awkward angle. you’ve still got the knife in your hand that could go through his throat. you try to move your hips in his tight lock around his meaty thighs but you can’t. instead, his grip presses his hard cock further into your stomach.

bakugou grins, “sorta. actually yeah, i think so.”

you roll your eyes, despite the red hot coil burning in your lower stomach. you know that if he flipped your dress up, he’d find your underwear completely damp. 

“you’re also covered in me,” he notes, biting down on his lip at the dirt and blood that streaks your dress, all clean before he came in. you bite back a sigh at the animalistic feelings of this all. the roughhousing, the proof that you could kill the chief of the most powerful village and how bakugou stares back at you with nothing but arousal and pride.

with the arm he’s using to hold yours, you twist your elbow over his to pull out of his grip. you use your free arm to rest your weight on his shoulder. 

“believe me now? i could have killed you three times over,” you say, your voice pitching lower by the end and you don’t mean to stare at his mouth but you do.

“i do, princess,” bakugou murmurs, tone so deeply honest, your eyes widening and your grip loosening on the knife you’re still holding. “shoulda believed it before but i guess i needed to see it in action. what did you do to that guy that attacked you?”

“he had his arm on my throat so i just elbowed his arm out and kicked his chest,”

“right in the centre? it still had bruisin’ four days after fuckin’ idiot,” bakugou spits and you frown down at him, brushing his hair off his forehead.

“how do you know?”

“that was the village we went to raid,” he smirks, then finds your chin to pull you for a kiss, it has you chasing after his lips for more, “got you some pretty shit. they had lots of rubies there.”

“i thought you were going to—,”

“changed my mind.”

“did you kill him to protect your pride?”

“did it to protect yours,” he nips at your bottom lip, “you bruised him, i get to kill him.”

you laugh into his mouth, throwing the knife to the side and caressing katsuki’s cheek as your kiss only becomes deeper.

“did it all for you,” he mumbles, swiping his tongue against yours messily, “we took so long ‘cause i had to kill them all… all his fuckin’ men.”

your fiancé makes you needy, feral. your brain is cotton as you haphazardly tug at his trousers but bakugou’s too engrossed in your mouth to shuffle to pull them off. though the grip on his thighs loosens, and he joins in shoving the fabric of your dress up to your waist so you can hump his cock.

“t-thank you,” you moan into his mouth, hand roaming across the light dust of dark blonde hair over his chest. together, you’re burning electricity, sparks setting off whenever you touch. 

“don’t fuckin’ thank me,” he snaps, rolling over and bringing you with him so your back is against the ground.

he is gorgeous above you and you’re so close his new thick fuzz of facial hair tickles your cheeks. much thicker than you’ve ever seen it. you take note of the new scars that are about to form on his face and the ones that are halfway to healing on his chest.

you brush your fingertips over his abdomen, “i hope i didn’t hurt you too much.”

bakugou grunts, rubbing his clothed cock against your clit beneath your underwear. the contact has your eyes fluttering to shut, your hips tilting towards him.

“it hurt more when you never told me what happened to you that day,” he digs his teeth into your neck, then sucks softly to soothe the pain, “how am i supposed to be a good husband if—,”

“i know, i know,” you whine and now it’s your turn to lock your legs around his waist keeping him with you in case he even thinks of leaving. you’re not sure where the build up of emotions comes from, perhaps the lack of sleep without him by your side, the silent goodbye, the anger mixed with glee at his return. tears well up on your waterline though they don’t fall, “i’m sorry, katsuki.”

he’s quick to notice the change in tone, darting up from his attack on your neck to your pouting face. 

“no, don’t fuckin’ cry,” he coos and you keep the fact that you have the chief cooing and consoling you deep in your back pocket. he kisses your lips softly, his hips rocking sweetly against your clit, “i’m sorry too. baby, no tears for me, yeah?”

“i missed you so much and i-i felt so bad since our last conversation was an argument—,” 

he shuts you down with another kiss, “princess, an argument isn’t gonna keep me away from you. i thought i’d come home to an angry wife, you had me fuckin’ nervous.”

you laugh as his massive calloused thumbs wipe away the tears, “i was angry.”

“you’re not now?”

“no.”

“that’s good.”

then to your hell, he pulls away from you but not too far, just sinks further down your body. your breath hitches in anticipation. you even forget momentarily you both are still on the floor in the kitchen, though you guess it makes sense with the way he’s about to eat you.

bakugou’s large palms rub over your thighs like a massage. thumbs kneading the skin like dough, before he pushes your knees to your face. you note how he licks across his bottom lip as he stares between your legs. you’re not sure if he can see the damp between your legs with the poor lighting. you’re sure he’d laugh at you if he could. “thought about the taste of you every fuckin’ day i was away from you, princess. every fuckin’ day.”

the rumble of words set you on fire, “thought about you too.”

a single eyebrow rises, “you touch her?”

he feels for your underwear, pulling it off under your ass and over your legs. bakugou groans at just the smell of you, aroused and waiting for him. 

“yes,” you breathe and a thumb flicks over your clit. to finally be touched feels glorious, you never realise how attached you get to his touch until he leaves. he presses your thighs so your knees are at your ears and the burn of the stretch is welcome. “thought of how you would do it.”

“did you come too?” he’s transfixed between your legs, laying flat on his chest to bring his face closer and you can no longer see him over the fabric of your dress. your whole body withers in excitement, the thought of having his mouth on you again, the lewdness of having your legs open and exposed.

you arch your back for more of anything, “yes, chief.” 

bakugou darts his eyes up to the mountain of fabric on your chest. he can only see your breasts rising and falling. fuck, he’s lucky. he’s also not stupid, he’s aware of this little chief thing you’ve got for him. why not indulge? he’s been away for so long, you had to take care of your pretty pussy all on your own. he should be face first on you all night in apology.

“keep callin’ me that. anythin’ else and you’re not comin’.” he kitten licks your clit and you mewl delightedly, your hand brushing through his hair.

“yes,” you squeak and you twitch when he bites your thigh lightly, “yes chief.”

bakugou starts with pure skill and technique. licking a stripe from your asshole to your clit before swallowing all the goodness. “fuck, aren’t you the prettiest?” he groans, spreading your lips apart with two fingers and resting his hand on the hair at your mound. he sucks harshly on your clit and your whole body rumbles, “aren’t you?”

“oh fuck—, yes chief, i am,” you tremble, rocking your hips against his face. if you could see him right now, you know his face would be wet from you, especially from the way you feel him moaning as he eats. 

he focuses on your clit with his tongue, brushing around the bud in circles and adoring how you keep mumbling nonsense every few seconds. there’s no warning when he takes two fingers and thrusts them into you.

“c-chief, oh my… fuck, kats—,” you pour out and as soon as you slip up, his tongue comes off you. he does keep his fingers inside you but they’re not moving. you pulse around him, beginning for a release and he knows, he can feel it.

“not my name, princess. get it right and you get to come all over me,” he rests up on his arm to see you fully. only now, does bakugou fully understand what he was missing not being able to see your face over your dress. you can say the same thing to him too. “i was willin’ to die out there for you. all the anger i felt… so fuckin’ mad at the way he touched you.”

“you’re all—,” you begin, but the tips of his fingers begin to stroke against your walls. bakugou laughs at how easily you succumb to him, your arms reaching out to his face. he leans in close to you, always finding it hard to say no. you pout your lips at him, and his fingers curl inside of you, “i’d die for you too, chief.”

bakugou shakes his head, a crazed grin on his face. he loves you saying that to him, it sends a wild thrill down his spine that you’d put yourself on the line for him. but he doesn’t need that from you. “you won’t needa do that princess. i’ll be here for you.”

you know your fiancé is one for confessions during sex. dramatic ones that rack your brain and have you thinking about the words for days after until you corner him at dinner about them. he’ll confirm them again completely sober.

there’s no question, when you bring him in for a kiss. bakugou’s fingers piston inside of you, the same speed when he fucks you after a long day. you’re moaning into his mouth, holding him with strength he didn’t know you to have. you only pull away because you’re unable to focus on two things at once. your back begins to arch and your clothed breasts press against his bare chest.

“y-you taste like me,” you whine and all of a sudden you grab his wrist between your legs. he stops his hand out of confusion and frowns over at you.

“what’s wrong princess?”

“wanna come with you inside me, your cock,” you whisper, lust laced through your words. 

bakugou nods like there’s a spell over him, dragging his hand out of you and roughly pulling down his trousers. his cock springs out, slapping against his bare chest and you sigh longingly.

“it’s okay, baby, you’ll be gettin’ him,” it’s not long at all for bakugou to grip his cock and tap it against your clit. he grins at how you twitch, locking your arms around your knees to hold them up. “you’re so good for me aren't you, princess?”

“i’d be better if you fucked me,” you barely manage to voice and bakugou huffs a laugh.

“say it again politely,” and he teases you, his tip dipping into your hole. a cute “oh” passes your lips at the sensation. “baby.”

“i’ll be good if you fuck me, chief. please,” you plead, biting your lip as you stare up at him.

bakugou groans loud enough to wake up everyone in the village. being with you, like this, feels like religion. willing to give up everything to please and honour you. he can’t think of anything else he’d rather do than to see you satisfied because of him. 

“yes baby,” he whispers as if in a trance and he’s tending to you quickly, holding his cock at the base and slowly pushing inside of you.

it feels as if all the tension in your body releases at the feel of him. up in the clouds with your fiancé with his thickness stuffed within your walls. you exhale blissfully, closing your eyes as you keep your thighs in place. the angle is delightful, quenching your thirst slightly.

bakugou balances on a palm by your head, his other hand palming at your clothed breast. he’s missed you more than he could describe, but knowing this raid was for you made everything worthwhile.

“oh you make me feel, oh,” you try but bakugou begins to slide in and out creating a rhythm that has your heart beating out your chest. he’s slick and smooth with your wetness and the pat pat of your bodies only makes you wetter.

“like what, princess?” he manages, squeezing your breast to make you open your eyes.

“amazing, chief,” you smile at him and it’s a smile he’s never seen before. it’s round eyes, a layer of sweat giving you a shine, and a toothy grin. he can tell you’re not all here on the earth but you’re in the same place as him.

he kisses roughly at your jaw and you laugh at the feeling of his new beard against you, “want you to come with me, yeah?”

he punctuates his question with quicker jolts of his hips. each only pressing against your softest parts causing your back to arch. you’re so close, the heat in your stomach burning up that you’re sure you’re marking your thighs by holding so tight.

“c-chief, katsuki, i’m about to—,” 

“all for me. come on,” he whispers in your ear and he sees how you get enveloped by your pleasure. it washes over you, your fingertips tense, your mouth parted to whine. you even push back onto him, the hot fuzzy sensation reaching your toes.

it’s not too long before bakugou has to regretfully slide out of you when it gets too much. he pumps thrice, coming all over your dress with a groan that’s on the edge of pain. 

“motherfucker, fuck,” he mumbles before laying beside you on the floor of the kitchen.

you’re both lumps of heaving, sweaty bodies and like always, his hand finds yours and he plops it on his heart.

“can’t believe you came on my dress, i like this one!” you glance down at the newfound stains and lay your head back down with a sigh.

“princess, you’ve got my blood and dirt on that too. it needs a clean.”

“you need a clean,” you turn your head to face him, tiredness but relief all over his face. you smirk, “when was the last time you cleaned your dick?”

bakugou laughs drily, stretching his arms above his head whilst still holding your hand. your body drags with him, “you didn’t care a second ago, i know you don’t now.”

you make a noise of disapproval, looking over your fiancé with fresh eyes, “i’m happy you’re home.”

bakugou tilts his head, blinking at you softly like a friendly cat. your heart warms. 

“i’m happy i’m home too.”

—

your fiancé carries you bridal style through your home and you can’t stop touching the thick beard growing at his chin and cheeks. even the moustache on his upper lip has you fascinated. 

you like it. a lot. and once you’ve softened him up by complimenting his new look, even suggesting keeping it, you try something else.

“so, since you know i can take you down, does this mean i can go on a raid with you?”

bakugou narrows his gaze at you in his arms. happy, sweet and sated. your fingers are touching every bit of skin above his shoulders. he has no clue why you thought to put your finger in his ear a second ago but he didn’t say no.

“princess, i am fuckin’ tired. i want to sleep until next year and not think about another raid until i wake up,” he deadpans but to his detriment, you pout.

“okay,” and he thinks it’s over when you snuggle against him, fingertips brushing against the hair on his chest, “i don’t need your permission anyway.”

“i will throw you out of the window,” he threatens but his grip tightens on you when he says the words.

you giggle and he thinks the sun is rising outside, “no you wouldn’t.”

“i could.”

“but you wouldn’t.”

VIKING MASTERLIST

different types of kisses-> ft JJK MEN

╰┈➤ ( gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento )

╰┈➤ warnings : ( smut, kissing, grinding, humping, face slapping, lingerie, hair tugging, praise kink, light choking, breeding mention. )

———————————————————————————

GOJO SATORU -> ‘the pervy kisser’

Gojo kisses you in the dirtiest most desperate way. His kisses sloppy and desperate as his tongue licks at your soft lips before licking down your neck with haste. All while his hands grab at your plush hips so he can grind his bulge against your inner thighs like a bitch in heat. He makes sure to leave you as breathless as he is, praising you for your pretty noises while his cock painfully aches in his boxers. He purrs his praises out while his lips stay at your neck and collar bone, sucking and licking at your sensitive skin, making sure to cover you in his hickeys. At last he finally snaps and tears off your shirt, his hands grabbing at your bra and ripping it off as well before he sucks at your tits sloppily, spit dripping down his chin as he motorboats you. Sooner or later gojo simply just loses patience and snakes his hand to your skirt and lazily rips it off before reaching your panties and discarding those too. Whispering promises against your skin to buy you more clothes while his lips stay latched to your nipples, sucking them and grinning as his sexy eyes look up to meet your own lust filled ones looking down at him. ☆

GETO SUGURU -> ‘the needy kisser’

Geto always begins his kisses at your jawline, trailing his lips along your jaw before finally connecting with your mouth. His lips sucking at yours as he snakes his hands into your hair and grips it a little, pushing your face closer to his to add more passion to the kiss. He begs a lot, groaning out a “pretty girl” as well as a few mumbles of “princess”. Geto is always vocal, letting you know how much he likes you. Especially when his hands run down your spine before tracing the middle of your lower back. His eyes hazy as his lips stay connected to yours. Make-out sounds filling the room as his hands reach down to cup your ass. You pull away for breath for a moment only to be met with a harsh slap delivered to your cheek and a grumble from geto, his displeasure from you pulling away evident as he tugs your hair back and litters kisses over your exposed neck. “don’t fucking move” he orders as his fingers slide into your panties. ☆

NANAMI KENTO -> ‘the sensual kisser’

Nanami presses soft kisses to your cheeks and forehead before slowly wrapping his large hand around your throat, groans leaving his lips as he listens to your noises. Nanami presses his lips to yours, his other hand reaching up to cup your cheek, his eyes still open as you two maintain eye contact for a moment. You whimper and nanami eats that shit up, letting out a low grunt as he presses his crotch to yours, backing you against a wall and kissing your jaw, his hand still wrapped around your pretty neck. He feels embarrassed at how horny you’re making him feel simply by allowing him to choke you softly. He sighs and releases your neck, pressing kisses to the soft bruising he left behind before picking you up bridal style and carrying you to your shared bedroom for him to breed you. ☆

———————————————————————————

╰┈➤ authors note - i took an extraordinarily long break as we are all very aware. im not gonna guarantee me being consistent from this point forward cuz that would just be me lying out my ass. anyways, hope y’all enjoyed and aren’t too annoyed that i showed up with smut and dicks instead of a continuation of the gojo fic ( ✌︎'ω')✌︎ ☆

———————————————————————————

kirimina KABEDON!

there is no point in yandere if its not for love its in the name. it all has to be for love that's the whole point. you kill and you die and you sin and you ruin all for the sake of love. even cruelty, even violence, even torture. at its base it needs to be about love. if it's not then its pointless!!!!

imagine Katsuki is your baby daddy but he has the body of a zaddy

You hadn’t slept with him since you were eighteen? When you conceived his son…? 5 and some years ago?

You’re older, more level headed but still you can’t help but notice how Katsuki’s lean physic morphed into muscle and scars and has his voice always been this deep? And the way he says your name now, with a hint of affection in his tone… and his eyes are more clear, less angry, and set on you

You find yourself more self conscious of the way your hair falls when it’s his weekend to have Katsuma, you take extra time picking out your outfit and putting on your best lipstick

“Have fun okay?” You smile at how cute Katsuma looks in his bucket hat, his toothless smile wide as Katsuki picks him up for a father-son hiking trip.

“Can i bring home a turtle to keep as my pet?” The little boy asked you, and you just know Katsuki is looking at your cleavage that the new shirt you bought showed off. How could he not?

“Absolutely not,” you don’t skip a beat, laughing at Katsuma’s fake disappointed look. Finally, you get the courage to look at Katsuki and nearly gasp.

Katsuki looks hungry, for you. You know him, or rather you knew what he looked liked when he was horny. The slight red color of his cheeks, his jaw clenching, and his red eyes are pooling in arousal.

You knew deep down you should not sleep with Katsuki. It would mess up everything you and him have tried to work on for katsuma’s sake. Yet, it felt good that you still had it in you to rile up Katsuki.

“Have fun,” you smiled at your boys, and Katsuma leaped onto Katsuki’s back but he didn’t budge.

“Keep your phone on, I don’t want you out in case of emergencies,” Katsuki flared his nose at the idea that some sleeze ball saw you like this, all dolled up and lips red, waiting tentatively at home for him and his son who he gave you… fuck stop Katsuki!

You blushed at his order, and played it off. “Okay, but please be careful.”

You put a lot of trust in Katsuki to take his own son hiking, and even if you were wanting to bone… your baby came first.

“Remember to wear sunscreen and please no running off on your own,” you pass Katsuma’s backpack to Katsuki, and the little boy sighed in annoyance.

“Mom I know,” katsuma squished his cheek against katsuki’s shoulder as he patiently waited to leave.

Katsuki didn’t struggle at all with holding his son on his back with the bag, and he loved how your raw and tender ove for his son showed on your face. Fuck, now that’s sexy, he thought.

“Take this to the car,” Katsuki lightly shook katsuma off his back, handing him the bag. Katsuma ran off, leaving his parents alone with one another.

“I’ll take care of him,” Katsuki promised, and you smiled gratefully.

Yet, you were startled when Katsuki moved closer to you, his head tilting down to whisper in your ear, “and when I get back, I’ll take care of you.”

Gojo Satoru being so horny he fucked you in every position he can come up with until you are sore and sticky with cum☺️

a/n: 😞😞😞

cw: f! reader, implied breeding kink, manhandling, 18+

gojo coming home from work to his pretty housewife, you— he‘s had a long day and he’s so exhausted, he missed you, he‘s been thinking about you all day. you‘d be in the kitchen before walking to greet him towards the door with a soft smile.

“hi satoru baby, how was wor—”

but he immediately cuts you off, tossing his bag against the floor, bringing you into a deep and needy kiss. you were taken aback— yet returner the kiss, only before gojo lifts you up, making his way towards the bedroom.

you gasped, your legs locking around his waist as he walked— not breaking his lips from yours, he tastes so sweet, you could almost make out a taste of some sweetened drink,

you moaned once his hands trailed towards your ass, giving it a good squeeze, just loving how you were in nothing but a cute nightgown.

no panties underneath either, just how he liked.

“. . . s—satoru,” you gasped, nails digging into his back, as of now he‘s currently in mating press— fucking you deep and deep, his thick cock pounding into you aa your legs just raised up as his weight bounces against you. the bed shakes and shakes and you whimper— feeling him balls deep. “f—fuckfuckfuck.”

“baby— cumming— again,” he huffs out in short hitched breaths, before you feel his hips stutter, gojo pours another thick load into your tight squeezing cunt, gripping all around him so tight,

he moans, his eyebrows furrowing and parting together before he leans in, muffling his moans while softly biting against your neck in attempts to suppress his near whiney moans. “. . . uh—” he grunts, pumping you full of his stringy ropes of seed.

“m' so full, satoru,” you whimpered, wrapping your arms around his neck. gojo smells so good, he‘s just inches deep— feeling his own cum start to trickle and ooze all out,

each time he releases a load, it‘s a lot, it’s so much to where it starts to run down your thighs— yet gojo frowns, making an attempt to fuck his hot sticky seed back into your pussy, the needy pout on his face never leaving. “y—you‘re stuffing m-my pussy, satoru,”

he whines, leaning in to kiss you again— his hips slowed once he came but he started back up again,

barely giving you a moment to prepare yourself before he’s ramming his cock deep between your folds, mouth the opening and a bit of drool leaving the sides of your mouth from the lewd way your tongue was just lolled out.

“i know— but baby, i have to,” he mutters in a shaky voice, despite his pitch being a bit deepened.

his hips just smacked against you, over and over, each load you take was like it was heftier than the last.

“couldn‘t help myself when i came home to you in this pretty nightgown— ass all out just for me,” he huffs, fucking you so deep into the bed that you had to grip onto his arms. “had to fuck you as soon as i came back home— missed my favorite pussy s‘baddddd.”

gojo goes on for hours, and hours, and hours.

just stuffing, pumping you full of his cum, over and over again— it makes his mouth water, salivate—

he just loves the way when he‘s about to give you another load, his hips always pause, and he gets quiet, putting a hand over your mouth while staring at you with a hungry gaze.

“mhm— listen to it, baby,”

he says in a quiet voice, not thrusting anymore yet he‘s filling you full again, balls buried deep to the hilt—

and you grow quiet, your moans stop before you listen to it, hearing gojo‘s cum spurt inside your cunt, it’s so much, the way your pussy squelched as it takes him with open arms— or in this case, open folds.

“you look so cute with your tummy all plump and full for me, a-angel,” he rasps, removing his hand before peppering your face with kisses. “can‘t get enough of bein' inside you— so good. pussy jus’ holdin' me h-hostage . . ”

moan after moan— load after load, you’re so full, you can’t even grasp how much he‘s given you of his seed, by this point you’ve lost count.

so many positions, your pussy was just being flooded by gojo‘s thick cum— just stuffing and stuffing you, you’re so dizzy,

just sprawled out on the bed all pretty, his fat tip kissing and kissing, french kissing even against your g-spot, lip locked it seemed and you whimpered—

his back covered with so many scratch marks by you— it‘s pretty in a way.

he can’t wait to look at it later.

all I can think about is Viking!Bakugo, his family sets up an arranged marriage but he hates the idea, he prefers to be chief of his own village with no support and be able to do it all alone to prove his family wrong. As soon as his fiancé turns up, he sees you and all thoughts leave his head as he sees how pretty you are and how all eyes are drawn to you as they all thinking the same thing. He notes how standoffish you are and how you look like a born leader from the way you stare back at his villagers. He immediately falls for you and tries to court you in his own ways, giving you the best pelts, catching the biggest food and weaving bracelets with the brightest colours. 🫡🫡🫡🫠🫠🫠🫠

WAITING FOR YOU [10.5K]

— viking!bakugou katsuki x reader

SYNOPSIS: your new fiancé is ruthless, rude and stupidly gorgeous. after being forced into an engagement with him to keep peace between your villages, you need to find some way to get along or at least come to an understanding. it happens quicker than you think once you catch him bathing in his private lake.

WARNINGS: minors dni, 18+ scenes, female reader, princess/honey pet names, chief’s daughter, arranged marriage, fiancés, enemies to lovers, misunderstandings, handjob, fingering (f), face sitting (f), outdoors but private, yn has hair long enough to be in a bun.

NOTES: i think it is very funny that when i started answering this ask i apologised that i really enjoy this idea but i don’t think i would be able to bring it to life. 10000 words later and i think something is alive and kicking lmao thank u for sending this to me and i even did a little viking research for certain words but certainly do not take this as gospel lol defo viking old fashioned violent cottagecore aspects with modern day dialogue. i hope everyone who reads this enjoys because i spent a lot of time on this! i am realising all my au!bkg fics are all very long because so much more background is required before we get into the smut lol ANYWAY yeah thank u user titantears!

bakugou katsuki is the chief of his village, the leader of his army and your new fiancé. 

you’ve heard everyone talk about how what’s his is yours and yours is his. that’s what marriage is, two people coming together in unity but your marriage with this brute beast of a man feels anything but that. nothing is yours. you’ve moved to his village, living in his home, eating his food and adapting to his way of life. you can’t even say he is yours, in fact you wouldn’t be surprised to find out he hates you since he does everything to prove he does but say the words. at least you’ve got a beautiful shiny ring on your finger that you spend more time admiring than really understanding what it means. you’re tied to this stranger forever.

one thing you and the great bakugou katsuki have in common is that you’re both forced to marry each other. an arranged marriage between two wealthy chiefs of their villages. this chief in question is bakugou’s father although he is rarely seen around these days due to old age and bakugou stepping up in his place. your marriage arrangement is just a pact so both villages don’t invade the other and giving your life to this man makes it all worth it for the survival of your people.

you have seperate bedrooms. you have to see him for breakfast and dinner, his only term and condition. he’s somewhat civil when you eat, but all too soon conversations become snappy, leaving you to storm off and him clanging his utensils against his plate.

“so… what are your plans today?”

“nothing.”

bakugou grunts before silence takes over the room.

he tries again, “nothing at all?”

“there’s nothing here for me to do. why do you care?”

“you talk like your heads up your ass,” he snarls.

you fake a gasp, “just like you then?”

the most tender moment you could place so far was when you had to stand beside him when you were announced his fiancé to his people. the warrior that is often described as ruthless could barely look you in the eye, which shocked you to no end, though when he whispered softly, “i’m gonna hold your hand. is that okay?” it’s like you were doused with a warm blanket after a cold day. you locked eyes with him for a second before whispering, “yes.” his people won’t stop talking about this moment, or how it came across to them.

though that moment is long forgotten the next day when you land the last word in another bicker with bakugou in front of his whole army. you know you shouldn’t have been out here but the best thing about your new fiancé was that he was easy on the eyes. so easy that if you didn’t have one of his servants poking you to get changed or to eat up or to do something, you’d be drooling all over yourself just watching him. this led to you sitting and watching him be a dickhead to his army, shouting at them to work harder, be faster, and to, if it was even possible, be more violent. his vulgarity should make it easier to snap your gaze away from him when he turns to face you though it doesn’t. he’s dressed in tight black cloths, chunky silver jewellery around his neck and always, your pupils drift to the silver band around his finger. the item that connects you both together. he’s dressed casually compared to his warriors who are doused in layers of chest and leg armour, you know it’s another way to prove he’s better than them all, that whilst training them he doesn’t need it. though a sharp curved axe that looks heavy to look at hangs by his waist as a threat. he doesn’t scare you though, especially with how attractive you find the hoop piercings littering his ears and the expensive stolen bracelets across his arms.

he bites at you, face like a sour lemon, “why the fuck are you out here? isn’t there somethin’ you can be doin’ indoors?”

“what is with you and telling me to do something? can’t i just watch you work?”

“it’s not interestin’ and it’s unsafe for you,” he’s annoyed, barking an order at one of his warriors right after.

you think the only thing that’s unsafe is the way he makes you feel when he gets too close, you know your skin is too hot to touch. you notice his warriors staring at him, confused at how he is yet to raise his voice at you and how you’re so okay with being beside him.

“how is it unsafe being around the people who’re supposed to keep our village safe, fiancé?” you taunt and he narrows his eyes at you.

bakugou bends his back to whisper in your ear, lips almost brushing your skin. “my men work so hard they barely see women, let alone ones as beautiful as you. you bein’ here is addin’ an extra distraction and job on my list.”

your breath hitches at the compliment, whispering, “distraction for them or you?”

bakugou doesn’t want to admit it yet he’s rising to his full height and ignoring the smell of baked goods that linger off your clothes. “both. now fuck off.”

“you need to learn some people skills if you want to have a wife, bakugou. you’re acting like a prick.”

bakugou rolls his eyes dramatically, tired of this conversation with you. his soldiers are watching the interaction intensely. they’ve never seen bakugou act anything but strict and merciless, usually solving his problems with violence. they definitely haven’t seen him blush in annoyance from a woman. 

“i’ve never heard that one before, good job. now remove yourself before i do it myself.”

you bite your tongue, deciding to give up with this one though you can’t help but wonder how it must feel to get manhandled and thrown over his shoulder.

“you won’t see me at dinner,” you shout over at him, walking away.

“i definitely will, princess.”

he did end up seeing you, dragging you from your room over his shoulder and plopping you in the dining room.

occasionally, you catch him watching you and he doesn’t look away. his fiery eyes are steady on your body with a frown you can’t translate. you’d be brushing your hands through the flowers landscaped across his home while he sits with the other higher members of his army. he scrunches his nose, his head resting in his palm. he’s gorgeous with his wheat blonde locks and scar through his eyebrow. his bicep is the size of your head and you’re perfectly aware of how easy it would be for him to pick you up and throw you around. bakugou doesn’t turn away when you frown back at him, only when one of his excited army members prods a finger at a map does his attention shift before a bubble of laughter floods from them. you think your fiancé is the butt of the joke from the way his red spreads all across his neck.

your new relationship is rocky, filled with tension and pure impatience. 

at least you’re lucky your family chose a handsome fiancé for you. you watch from afar when thick mighty legs and ass step into the bakugou private lake to bathe. his strong shoulders with more muscles than you thought were possible on a human and a large beautiful figure. bakugou is all wide shoulders and tiny waist, scars and slashes littering the expanse of his back and if you voiced how attractive you found a back you’re sure you would be locked up. you’re surprised to see him without his bracelets or necklaces, the only jewellery still on being his ring and earrings.

the weeds and grass that surround the lake dwarf you whenever you bathe, always droop into your eyes and cover you intimidatingly. yet with him, they stretch tall, pointing to the sun so there’s enough space for him to dunk his head in the water. nature isn’t overwhelmingly large beside him, in fact with all the roughness that is bakugou katsuki, the water and greenery cares for him like a lover would.

his blonde hair curls at the tips with the water, dusting to a darker blonde, matching the deep shades of green. his arm rises to scrape it all off his forehead. the lake glazes his body like a shield and you don’t miss how he lightly pinches a lily stem between his fingers to bring to his nose. he hasn’t even turned around yet and the sight of his back, scrubbing himself clean… you don’t think you’ve ever been attracted to someone so much. not even your father’s old scribe was this attractive and he was the most attractive in your village.

you’re careful to be silent and you’re well aware of how perverted this could turn out. you swear you were just on a walk around his land and now you’re distracted by your fiancé cleaning his body in the lake. he’s completely naked, dripping with water. the dirt that marked his skin is washed away, leaving him golden and shiny in the sunlight. you don’t know what you want a peek of more his chest or his—

“who’s there?”

bakugou turns in your direction in a flash. fuck. you curse the skies because you know you didn’t make a sound. his hearing is immaculate and so are his senses. you debate whether to reveal yourself or if he’ll just leave it. actually, you know he won’t leave it.

“i know someone’s there. reveal yourself or i’ll kill you without question.”

you sigh, flinging your head back and looking to the clear skies. for fucks sake.

you stand tall, faux confident because his ruby jewel red eyes looking at you, paired with a grumpy violent frown, has you feeling lightheaded for all the wrong reasons.

he’s stepped to the shallower end of the lake now, his bare chest in view and finally, his face. he’s so gorgeous. tanned skin, rolls of abs. facial features all in the right place yet with a masculine charm that has you humming. you wonder if he realises.

you step out from behind the tree, chin high. “i was coming to bathe but you’re already here. i’ll come back later.”

you’re lying through your teeth but bakugou can’t catch it, focusing on stopping the flush of red up his neck. now the thought of you naked in the lake beside him is filling his head and he’s rubbing his hand against his forehead roughly.

your eyes study his bicep, then the thick scar under his right pectoral and your body flushes with heat when you think he caught you.

“you didn’t bring any cloth to dry yourself?” he asks, voice deep and troubled.

your eyes widen in alarm, that’s true. stupid lie. “i usually… air dry. stand out in the grass.”

now it’s bakugou’s turn to be surprised, “hah?” he can’t help it. “what if someone sees you?”

you blink, “everybody would know i’m off to bathe. only my maid would be around to watch out. well back home anyway.” that’s true.

bakugou grunts. he needs to get that same routine for you here. “i’ll get out ‘n’ you can bathe. i’ll sit out and watch for you.”

“w-what?” you splutter.

he cannot be here while you bathe and what did you say… air dry? fuck fuck fuck.

“i’m gettin’ out. i was done anyway,”

water ripples around his body as he moves, strong limbs controlling the water. he walks closer to you, the clear lake water inching lower and lower down his hips. you can see the brush of hair leading to his—

you spin around in a rush, “bakugou! oh heavens.”

your chest is heaving, your fingers to your lips. you still hear him moving behind you, bare feet against the grass. his fluffy cloth against his skin.

“i’m hurryin’ up for you. don’t want you complainin’ back to daddy that i don’t let you live your life of luxury,” he remarks and you’re about to spin around to curse him out but you don’t want to get a glimpse of his cock. that’s a lie. you really do but you don’t want him to know that.

“i don’t complain to my father!” you shout, completely flustered, “and i can just come back later.”

“you can turn around. i’m covered,”

you do turn, slowly and now he’s the one lying. he’s only half covered, cloth at his waist covering his chunky thighs and that. just by the indent from the cloth, you know it’s large. still, his shoulders and chest and arms are out. they’re a killer.

you force your eyes to meet his. his jaw is strong, arms crossed against his chest and he speaks his next words like they’re scraping painfully across his throat.

“undress then. i’ll keep watch out for you.”

no, no, no. no.

“you don’t need to do that. i’ll just come back later.”

bakugou shakes his head like his word is law. “you still need someone to look out for you like you had back home. i’m doin’ it.”

“don’t you have army stuff to do? you don’t need to stay!”

he ignores your question completely, “nobody else is here to watch you.”

you blink at him. you’ve never thought about someone seeing you the other days you’ve showered here. it’s not something you’ve cared about since not many people on bakugou’s grounds have access to this lake and if they heard someone here they know to walk away. apart from you apparently. but you can’t go back on what you’ve started now.

“do you not want me to see you naked?” his eyes skim your body and your next breath is weaker. then he quirks a brow that makes you mimic his crossed arms, “y’know i’m gonna have to one day.”

“yes i know that. we aren’t getting married today though, are we?”

bakugou has only ever felt this weird, uncomfortable, childlike embarrassment, stupidly horny, oddly at home mixture when he’s by you.

you’re both looking at each other, though you don’t know each other well enough yet to decipher the emotions in your eyes.

truthfully, you don’t mind him seeing you naked. you have a nagging feeling at the back of your head admitting that you want him to. you want him to like what he sees and feel the undeniable urge you’re feeling about him right now. to touch, kiss and lick the fresh lake water off his skin.

you begin to unlace the front of your cardigan, dropping it to the ground. then you’re kicking off your shoes and your finger is hooked in the strap of your thin dress.

“wait, you’re undressing now? let me turn around or somethin’ woman!” he grumbles,, stepping around you and facing towards his home.

your laugh feels like butterfly wings against his skin, light and melodic and he thinks it’s the first time it’s for him. “i thought you said you’re going to have to see me naked?”

“y-yeah but i didn’t mean…”

you pull your dress down over your breasts and ass, watching it fall gracefully to the ground. next is your underwear and you’re completely naked before your fiancé. though he’s got his beautifully toned back turned away.

“so what did you mean?”

bakugou’s whole face is flushed pink, the tips of his ears red. he wipes his large hand across his face, grateful you can’t see him from the front. “i just meant i will in the future. that’s it.”

you dip your toes in the lake water. it’s sun toasted. warm between your toes. you hum to yourself at the feeling.

it’s silly where your trust for this man comes from. you’ve barely spoken these past few weeks minus snappy remarks and quick-tempered conversations. though you know he wouldn’t turn around for a peek at you so you take your time submerging yourself in the water. you scoop all your hair to sit on your head, re-wrapping it in a silk strip of cloth.

“so i think this is the longest conversation we’ve ever had without arguing. if it could be called one,” you try and you notice his head twitch at the sound of his voice.

“i wonder why.”

“what?”

“you sit with me at breakfast for a full three minutes, pushing the food around your plate before runnin’ off like i smell like horse shit.”

“oh,” you pause, biting down on your lip, “you don’t smell like horse shit.”

“yeah, princess. i know i don’t.”

you’re not a princess, you’re a chief’s daughter so you have no clue why he always calls you that. you do enjoy the name though you despise it when it’s used mockingly by him. which it is. often.

 you sigh, “i am not the biggest fan of your breakfast and in the morning i usually run off to pick something up from the bakery.”

“what? how come nobody told me?”

you shrug even though he can’t see you, “nobody comes with me. i sneak out the back.”

you’re not sure why you admit it but you guess it’s that weird trust you have in him. 

“well, we’ll change it then. i can’t have you sneakin’ off just to fuckin’ eat breakfast.”

he doesn’t make it sound like it’s a chore or you’re being childish or stupid. he says he’ll fix it. your chest blooms with warm fervency. you push it away.

“since we’re here i also think your horse hates me. every time i try to stroke him he grunts and growls at me. kinda like you. so that’s why i stay away from you outside.”

this time bakugou laughs. this is the first time you think you’ve ever heard it and the smile naturally flows onto your face too. it’s oddly boyish compared to his body which is nothing but man.

“daisy hates everyone but me. just feed her and she’ll be fine. i’ll give you some food for her next time. she’ll fall in love with you.”

the same question is on the tip of your tongue. how do i make you fall in love with me? because that’s what happens in normal marriages right? not because you, for some reason, want this man’s affection.

“and what’s the excuse for your attitude?”

“i’ve only got attitude because you do,” you accuse.

“really?” he bends to sit down, leaning back on his arms and stretching out his legs in the grass. he’s still got his fluffy cloth around his waist. “that’s why you’re snappy at me before i even talk?”

“i’m just… bored and erm…,” you sigh and it feels relieving, admitting the thoughts plaguing your mind about your new life, “there’s nothing to do around here and i don’t know anybody.”

“i’ve got a library,” he blurts, head turning to the left but he’s unable to see you behind him at that angle, “and we can… i guess you can come drink with me and my friends and their wives. they’re alright.”

“really?” you’re shocked at the prospect. bakugou inviting you to be with him in his free time?

“yeah. you’re gonna meet them anyway and the library you get into with a key. i’ll get my blacksmith to make one for you.”

you brush your hand through the lake water, fixating on the ripples it creates. you weren’t expecting any of this today. who knew your fiancé was willing to compromise? you don’t know how exactly to say thank you, you’re not even sure if you should yet since nothing has come to fruition.

“i don’t mind you turning around. this all just caught me off guard.”

you can tell by his back that he tenses up, muscles tight and bunched. he scrambles to his feet, adjusting the cloth around his waist with his head looking down at himself.

there’s a tight pause in the air minus the soft tweets of birds. “are you in the water?”

“yes.”

“completely?”

you laugh again and bakugou doesn’t mean to flutter his eyes shut. “yes bakugou.”

“soon you’ll be a bakugou. my name’s katsuki.”

“yes katsuki, i am completely in the water sans my head and shoulders. i need it to talk.”

there’s a grumble, one you can’t make the words out of. he shuffles on the spot but still doesn’t turn.

“so are you going to?”

“no.”

“why not?” you frown, watching the six foot five body before you, “what happened to you’ll see me naked anyway?”

“i’m keeping watch.”

you feel a streak of stubbornness gush through your veins. maybe it’s the lack of attention you’ve gotten since being dubbed bakugou’s fiancé or the growing need blooming in your lower half. maybe it’s these odd mixed signals you’re getting from your lover to be.

“katsuki, turn around and look at me.”

“i fuckin’ said i can’t.”

“nobody is going to come and see me, i bathe out here alone all the time!”

“yn, i said i can’t.”

he doesn’t raise his voice the way you see him do with his army. he doesn’t even say it angrily with clenched fists the way you see him get when his army is getting things right. he says it steady yet almost shameful, a whine twinged at the end. it sounds like he wants to but something’s stopping him.

your brain doesn’t connect to the rest of your body when your legs begin to move. towards the lake’s edge with your toes raking through the grass.

bakugou’s head twitches, “the fuck are you doin’?”

your wet hand lands on his arm and he tenses again.

“yn, you… fuck,” he dips his head down.

“what’s wrong?”

he doesn’t tell you, instead he shows you and… holy fuck is it hard to miss.

bakugou katsuki turns around to face you and your first surprise is the way he keeps his eyes directly on yours, not your dripping wet body in the golden evening glow. he’s got a pained frown, pulled eyebrows and baby pink cheeks.  his jaw is clenched so hard that you’re sure it must ache.

your second surprise is the growing bulge under his white fluffy cloth. the thick, long, massive bulge that you think, if your calculations are correct, has to be about eight inches? holy fuck, how will that fit inside you?

“oh my—,”

bakugou looks up to the sky with a loud exhale, “fuck, i’m sorry—,” he’s not sure the last time he’s ever apologised to someone. let alone for being hard.

“w-why? since when?”

bakugou huffs an uncomfortable laugh, rubbing his eyes.

“i could hear you being naked behind me and the fuck do you mean why? d’you know how hard it is to not look at you right now?”

you bite down on your lip, looking down at yourself and remembering oh yeah… you’re naked right now. the only thing on you right now is your pretty ring, glinting in the light, the same as his. you hold your hands behind your back at the observation. he’s attracted to you, like you are to him.

“i said you could. you can look at me.”

with those five words, bakugou’s pupils drop below your eyes. your skin burns wherever his eyes focus. on your lips, the curve of your bottom lip. your soft shoulders with glittering water droplets dotted across them. then your chest and he makes this weird grunty sigh. he wants to cup one or put one in his mouth. maybe cup one and put the other in his mouth. taste the lake water off your skin and circle your cute nipple with his tongue. then your soft stomach, he wants to lay his palms over you, he wants to touch, he’s dying to. then your mound, unshaven and he’s wondering how you taste. whether if he dips his fingers between your plush thighs, will they come away wet? he hums at your hips, thinking about spinning you around to see your ass and if it’s how he imagined it would be under your dress. then your feet, hidden in the grass.

bakugou feels lucky, elated, he thinks you’re so fucking perfect.

you were not expecting that. maybe some horny monologue, but to be called perfect? he gulps, eyes wide like he wasn’t planning on letting that slip.

“i’m not takin’ that back. you’re perfect. better than i imagined.”

“you’ve imagined me like this?”

he snorts, “of course. you haven’t imagined me like this?”

he thinks it’s very possible you haven’t but he risks it by pushing it back on you. he wins because you only give him that glare he’s growing to think is adorable.

“i’ve also imagined your ass and from the front i already know it beats expectations,” he grins and you’re wondering where the shy to show his boner bakugou went.

you shove his shoulder, “you are not what i imagined.”

bakugou doesn’t know what to make of that. he tilts his head to the side, “what did you think?”

you’re surprised at how you don’t feel self conscious or at all awkward being completely naked with bakugou. he’s back to focusing on your eyes though when you talk they drop to your lips and when you move to hold your side, he glances at your breasts. otherwise he’s back giving you his full attention.

“well, everyone back home said you were cruel, vicious and violent. how you were known for going berserk in battle,” you give him a smile he can only class as cocky, “you don’t know how many grandmas i have praying for me.”

bakugou raises his eyebrows. he knows what people say about him so he’s not completely surprised. “i am all those things, though i’m not in a battle with you. i haven’t tryin’ to be. us being bitchy to each other just happened.”

“i thought you hated me.”

“i think you thought you were supposed to hate me.”

you sigh, taking the silk ribbon out of your hair and redoing your bun. bakugou’s been doing a good job so far ignoring the pulsing in his cock. it’s heavy between his thighs and it’s only getting heavier with the sight of your arms in the air, your tits moving too. you’re gorgeous, pretty features all in the right places.

“i guess so? i didn’t want this arranged marriage stuff,” your hands dance in the air as if to explain before landing on your hips, “but i’ll do it for my family.”

bakugou wants you to do it for him, for yourself. he thinks he can get you to admit it.

“i was the same,” he mumbles, “hated how you were suddenly just here. in my space. i wanted to run my village on my own because i know i can but fuckin’ family. don’t wanna disappoint the ‘rents.”

you hum before him in agreement.

“i’ll be good to you. the best son, best chief, best warrior, best husband.” he nods at you and you don’t mean to step closer to him but you do, holding his promise tightly in your chest.

“do you promise?” you look up at him, eyes wide with hope and bakugou never wants to let you down. he hopes he never does.

“swear on my village.”

you freeze. you don’t know what means more to bakugou than his village, his people. you’re breathing heavy and the prickles of warm heat from the sun is making you sweat. actually the promise which feels worth so much more than a marriage certificate is making you sweat.

you lay your palm flat on bakugou’s chest, sinking down to the tuft of dark hair just above the cloth. it’s doing such a bad job at covering him.

“can i help you?”

your voice is sweet, nervous for rejection and bakugou wants nothing more than to just give himself to you. to thrust himself in your smaller palms exactly how he wants.

“i didn’t… i didn’t say that to get somethin’ out of it?” he starts but you only smile at him. how would you react if he kissed you?

“you didn’t do anything. i was the one out here. you only stayed to protect me, right?” your voice is taunting, like a magnet dragging him to you. your palm doesn’t move any lower, waiting on his command.

“but… fuck.”

“you can tell me what you like. i’ve been with a few guys back home so—,”

a large palm covers your mouth with swiftness, “don’t talk about other men around me if you don’t want to get a letter from back home that there’s been a raid.” katsuki’s voice drops octaves deeper and you cross one leg over the other. you guess this is the bakugou people warned you about. you lightly pull his hand off your face with no resistance.

“yes chief,” bakugou rolls his eyes and clenches his jaw. he’s willing to ignore that now. he’ll come back to it later, “so what about me touching your co—,”

bakugou grips your hips before walking backwards with you. your hands fly to his chest, glancing backwards. “why are we going—,”

“i don’t want anyone to see what i’m about to do to you.”

“i’ve told you nobody can see us here. i bathe out here all the time.” you’re now knee deep, now thigh deep in the lake. tall grass and weeds surround you and your fiancé protectively.

“i’m gonna be with you every time you bathe now to look out.”

“that’s not possible. you’re out early in the mornings and back late in the evenings.”

“i’ll change my routine.”

“you’re planning on changing a lot for me, aren’t you?”

“you’re my wife.”

he says it with finality and for the first time, you don’t have a comeback. perhaps that you’re only his fiancé but it feels pointless. you gaze down at his cloth, half submerged in the lake.

“it’s all soaked!”

bakugou wastes no time untying it from his hips, rolling it in a ball and throwing it onto the grass.

“guess we’re both gonna have to air dry.”

finally, your eyes drop to his cock and what a pretty cock bakugou has. maybe that’s the wrong word, since it looks like it could cause damage to your insides. the tip is a round, bulbous, deep pink that you’re wondering how it feels against the inside of your cheek. he’s got three thick veins around his length that curves slightly to the left. the base is so much darker than the rest of him and he looks so smooth. so hard and almost painful.

you give his balls a soft squeeze and bakugou bucks in your hand. his hand clenching around your hips for some type of stability. his crimson eyes are hidden from view, shut and he’s clenching down hard on his teeth, the scar on his cheekbone creasing.

“princess… oh fuck,”

you’re going to be able to see bakugou katsuki, chief of the village and head of the army, fall apart and you’re going to do it to him.

“it’s okay katsuki, talk me through it, tell me how you feel,” you whisper, your voice no louder than the grasshoppers and crickets around you.

“j-just stroke me. tight and hard,” he grunts, head dropping to your shoulder to see what you’re doing to him.

you do what you’re told, fingers circling his length and pumping. he never mentioned speed so you go steady, delighted to hear your name fall from his lips, dripping in pleasure.

“y’know i went out to get that m-massive fuckin’ fish for dinner yesterday all to impress you,” katsuki’s got no clue why he’s admitting this now, not when you’re so close that you’re sharing body heat and he can lick to water off your neck. “you never ate it.”

you never knew that he went and got it, especially not to impress you. there’s barely any space to react not with him holding you so tight. he begins to thrust his hips in your hand.

“i didn’t know you got it for me. i don’t like fish.”

bakugou laughs, deep and gravelly you feel it between your legs and right in your ear. “i know that now, honey. next time i’ll kill a—,” his breath shakes and you’re mesmerised by him, his body. so muscled and strong and he’s yours. “i’ll kill the next village’s golden fuckin’ cow for you. would that impress you?”

you can barely think straight. the next village is barbaric, though that’s nothing for bakugou. you’re nodding before you realise you’re doing so, “yes, yes it will.”

“gonna cover you in silvers and golds,” he grunts and the ring on his finger imprints into your hips, “the next r-raid, gonna take everythin’ you’d like.”

katsuki moans loudly, a whiny, “fuck” accompanied with a dribble of precome over your fingers. his breath is hot and his fingertips are pressing into your hips. you make a move to thumb his head but he stops thrusting immediately. “if you touch there i’ll come and i’m damned if we start this relationship with me comin’ first.”

you loosen your grip on his cock as he lifts his forehead from your shoulder. “can i touch you? want you to come on my fingers.”

your breath halts in your throat. oh you’ve imagined this, not in this situation with your legs in the lake, outdoors and surrounded by lush greenery, but in your private bedroom in bakugou’s quarters. your legs spread on your bed while your thoughts wander to the blonde man and how he’s easily able to wield a weapon.

katsuki doesn’t kiss your mouth, you think he purposely avoids it, instead littering wet nibbles and kisses down your neck and shoulder.

you gasp at a particularly hard nibble, “yes, touch me.”

in your fantasies, katsuki is rough. he pushes you onto the bed, he doesn’t ask whether you’re ready and he always always makes you come. you think he could be like that though right now he’s anything but.

one hand stays at your hip to keep you from twitching as beneath the water bakugou kicks your legs further apart. you hold onto him in surprise but there’s no time to complain as his thick middle finger skims through your centre.

“ha, knew you’d be wet. it’s all in your eyes, honey,”

you just mewl, cheek leaning on his chest. you feel his cock bob against your stomach.

with his single finger he begins to circle your clit and you’ve wanted a release so bad these past few days that that touch alone feels like fireworks lighting up inside your body. your eyes are sliding shut, mouth dropping open as bakugou literally coos in your ear.

“d’you like that? got a pretty fuckin’ wife, don’t i?”

“fiancé,” you whine and you don’t know why you bother to correct him. he feels so safe, his skin cosy and the air fresh. you’re nodding against him, “so good.”

“technicalities. you’re mine either way,” he pecks your temple, rolling your clit on his finger until he hears your breathing become ragged. bakugou looks down at you and he’s not sure what swells within his chest.

he’s been with a few ladies in the neighbouring villages though he’s never felt anything for them minus fleeting attraction. looking down at you with your plush lips parted and your eyebrows furrowed like the pleasure is too much... your smooth skin compared to his scarred chest. your hands are scrambling for purchase, resting between your breasts and his chest and he’s begging to be chest to chest. you’re angelic, unlike anything he’s ever seen before yet so similar to the beauty of nature.

he’s seen it all, he’s done it all. committed the most gruesome of murders, stolen out of greed and lied for his own fulfilment. he knows that in those religious books they keep in the churches with all those sins under his belt, he doesn’t deserve somebody as heavenly as you. with your glares, always opinionated and your strange habits. your shiny hair, your galaxy filled pupils and your curious hands always touching something. he wants to know everything about you, have you by his side, he wants you to like him and soon, maybe love him.

you whine against his chest, a soft, “katsuki.” and he feels like he’s been set alight, a realisation of who he has in front of him ringing through his head.

he wraps his forearm against your lower back and growls in your ear. “gonna make you come all over my fingers. bet you taste heavenly, princess. wanna hear it all, don’t keep anything to yourself. you hear me?”

he wastes no time dipping two fingers into your centre and the friction from your wetness makes him go in like a dream. your arms go around his neck and you’re sure you’re dribbling against his chest. the sensation of him inside, prodding deliciously against your walls has you throwing your head back, “yes,” you moan, “yes, yes, yes.”

bakugou’s amazed at how you begin to bounce on his fingers, fucking yourself back onto him with no thoughts but hedonistic desires. a loud sloshing fills the air, it’s dirty and lewd but neither of you make a move to stop it.

this is the first time you’ve done anything together. the first time sexually but also just your first time completely alone together. you sleep in separate rooms, there’s always servants or soldiers or someone around but now it’s just you and him. you fucking yourself on his fingers.

“i knew, i knew this would feel good,” you squeal, a layer of sweat coating your forehead. bakugou’s hand slides up your stomach then your breasts to cup your jaw.

you look fucked, drowsy eyes, parted lips. though you don’t stop riding his fingers and he watches how your features shift as he thumbs your clit again.

“oh shit,” you breathe and bakugou grins cockily.

“you knew this would feel good? with me?”

your hum of agreement accidentally becomes a high pitched whine, “yeah. your fingers are so…” you arch your hips, chasing his thumb, “so big.”

he chuckles hearty and confident and he swears he’s forgotten the painful heavy limb at his hips until your fist circles it again.

“come with me, katsuki,”

he jolts in your hand. he’ll do anything you say, he didn’t realise it until this moment. but he says it anyway.

“say please, princess,”

you’re pouting, cheeks hot and eyes ready to plead. bakugou knows he’s lucky, he’s lucky you chose him.

“come with me please, i want to feel you come because of me,” you trail off, transfixed by his pupils on you.

“i can do that for you,” he murmurs, lips brushing against your cheek.

you’re both rabid animals in the wild, a pile of heaving chests and moans and grunts in the water. sweat coats you both as your bodies move in sync, chasing the same feeling but together. bakugou thrusts into your palm, not hiding the deep grunt when you thumb his wet cock head. swears fall from his lips whilst you pair a few swears of your own with mewls.

together, you’re messy. lubricated by your own need. you don’t stop moving and neither does he.

“gonna be the best husband. you won’t need anyone else.”

“i don’t want anyone else.”

it’s a switch that goes off inside you. your eyes falling shut, your hips moving faster and your insides clench around his fingers as if you’re trying to keep him inside. your hand slows down on his cock while you come but that’s okay since he splutters over your stomach and under your breasts. loads and loads leak out of him and you keep trembling on his fingers. he finds that despite all the noise you made before, you orgasm in silence. just an open mouth and body slowly going limp.

bakugou keeps thrusting until he’s done and even he’s shocked at how much he’s able to produce. you can’t blame him, he’s been so tense with you around not knowing how to just talk to you and somehow this feels like it’s broken down a few walls between you both.

you come down from your highs clasping onto each other like a lifeline. sweaty palms and clammy skin though you both don’t mind. in fact, it’s something you could get used to really quickly.

“how about we wash off again and do that air dry thing you said?” his voice murmurs in your ear and you lift your cheek off his chest to pay attention to him.

katsuki looks lighter now. his cheeks a natural lovely pink, his carmine eyes glistening and he doesn’t have his typical frown. you actually find his resting face quite pretty and up close you can see how his eyelashes are long and uncurled batting against his skin. his nose is slightly wonky with a bump which you can assume is from fighting and you have an urge to kiss the scar going through his lips.

then you remember him calling you perfect and all the promises he made you before you were even having sex. your fiancé really isn’t who you thought he was. it’s all making you feel… shy, a silly little girl with a crush blossoming inside your heart. he just made you come with his fingers and you did the same to him, there’s no time for this. why he didn’t kiss you when you were so intimate? is that too personal for him? did he not want to?

you meet his eyes then look away to the clear lake below, you scramble out of his touch, weirdly awkward without his heat around you.

“oh yeah, we could. yeah,” you blurt, turning away from him and washing yourself again in the lake.

bakugou watches you, slow to begin cleaning himself again. he washes his chest, his fingers, his face and hair in silence before he says, “do you regret what we just did?”

you spin around to face your fiancé and you gulp. with the sunsetting behind him, the shadow his body creates only makes him look larger, beautiful. just the size of him makes you feel protected and you’re suddenly imagining him giving you a speech about how he’d protect you with his life. well, he did say he’d be a good husband before. his pert brown nipples, his stupidly toned chest and you’ve seen him help the villagers with farming and carrying goods back and forth. all jobs he doesn’t need to do, way below his level but he does anyway. why didn’t he kiss you?

the frown he gives you now though you recognise as a worried one. weakly furrowed brows and wide shiny eyes. he’s cautious and shies away from touching you.

you shake your head, “no, i don't regret it.”

katsuki’s frown doesn’t let up. he brushes all his wet hair off his forehead. “was it shit? did you not like it?”

oh you loved it. coming on his fingers, palms against his chest. next you wanna hold onto his bicep, bite down on it. again, you shake your head and bite down on your lip, “no i really enjoyed it but…” you trail off.

katsuki wastes no time, wading through the water over to you. he slides a palm to your cheek and you’re close to him again. your whole body feels electric. “but what? i can’t be a good husband if you don’t talk to me.”

his thumb traces your bottom lip, his hot breath covering your face. “i just…,” you huff, this isn’t you, “you didn’t kiss me! we did all of that and you didn’t kiss me once!”

he doesn’t mean to but the left side of his lips quirk up in amusement, his other hand sliding to your waist to hold you against him, “i did kiss you. there’s these bruises here to prove it.” he rubs his finger against your neck and you shiver.

“you bruised me?,” you blink and his smile is full blown. you feel like dropping to your knees before him because who knew bakugou katsuki could smile like that? “wait, no i meant on my mouth, you never gave me a proper kiss!”

he agrees with you, nodding slowly like he’s soothing you. his finger even draws shapes on your bare back. “i didn’t. that’s somethin’ you want?”

you have all his attention, and the shyness after your outburst is creeping back in. “yes,” you whisper.

“why?” he arches a brow.

“what?”

“why do you want me to kiss you, princess?”

you remember what he said before, he can’t be a good husband if you don’t talk to him. “it’s something i require. often. you’re the only person i can ask them from.”

katsuki looks satisfied by that answer, with an impressed roll of his lips, he murmurs, “that’s right. only i can kiss you.”

he leans into your lips, firstly brushing his chapped ones against your softer ones and you feel your whole body yearning. “okay.”

bakugou captures his lips with yours as if he’s breathing air into you, though it doesnt cool you, just sets you alight. you inhale him, wrapping your arms around his neck to drag him into you closer than humanely possible and his arms instinctively wrap around your waist. the kiss is controlled on his side, giving, like he knows you’re impatient and you could beg for more.

he pecks and lightly bites down on your bottom lip, only causing you to gasp out for another.

“katsuki,” you sound stern, though he only laughs at you.

“yeah, yeah, i’ll give it to you,”

katsuki slips his tongue into your mouth, your lips parting eagerly. a hand comes to cradle your cheek as excitement sparks down your spine and youre unsure how you lasted so long not doing this. how you have the rest of your life to continue doing this with him. he unsurprisingly tastes like the lake water, fresh air and smells like the fresh greenery around you. he’s easily dominating, controlling the kiss and sucking around your tongue. you moan instantly, completely ravenous and he only grins against your mouth in understanding. 

you want more and more but he pulls away with a smug grin.

“was that good enough for you?”

you look like you’ve been through it. cushion lips, out of breath with sleepy eyes. you’re not about to beg for another when he’s already so cocky.

you do decide to tell the truth though, “yes. could have been longer though.”

he huffs a laugh and your arms tighten around his neck. you want him again, you want to feel him again.

“we have forever, princess. and were gettin’ frog footed being in here.”

you can’t help but laugh at his phrasing, ignoring the soft warmth that spreads at the thought of forever. you guess you do have forever with him. you don't see your desire burning out anytime soon.

you untangle from him, wading through the water and out of the lake.

“there’s the ass i’ve been wantin’ to see,”

you glare at him following behind you, ruby eyes shining in amusement. you swat away a hand coming to squeeze you.

“has anyone told you you’re annoying?”

“no. they don’t wanna get their head knocked off.”

“figures.”

together, you lay out on the grass naked. it doesn’t take too long to dry but since you found out you don’t mind, okay, enjoy being in your fiancés company, you’re relaxed beside him.

“i’m surprised nobody has called you for village business or army business or family business. you’re in a lot of peoples business.”

you turn to face him, grass tickling your neck and cheek but he keeps his eyes upwards to the darkening evening sky, stars yet to appear.

“i tell them not to bother me when i’m bathing. hate getting interrupted during the only time i get to myself.”

you blink awkwardly, “oh, i guess i did that?”

he slowly turns to you, focusing on your lips then your eyes. fuck, he’s been to multiple villages, travelled far and wide and nobody has been as beautiful as you. he almost doesn’t feel worthy to be so close, intimate with you.

“you’re not included in that. you can bother me.”

“really? even before we… made up?”

your foot brushes his shin and he makes no move to shift away.

“i never really disliked you. just didn’t understand you.” he flicks his eyes down your body beside him and you feel your heart thunder against your rib cage, “you can join me in the lake anytime, princess.”

you roll your eyes despite the smile spreading across your cheeks. “now, has anyone told you how flirtatious you are?” you lean on your side to properly face him, a finger tracing shapes across his chest, “if i knew i was missing out on all this, i would have said i hated your food much sooner.”

katsuki grunts unamused though his eyes shine, “i wish you did too. i’ll fix shit around here, it’s your home too.”

“i appreciate that.”

it’s a comfortable silence, you being touchy while bakugou just lets you. the tips of your fingers trace the ridges of his abs, his scars, his marks. you’re careful to avoid his nipples though you keep getting intrusive thoughts to kiss them. his body is undeniably strong, wielding so much strength that there’s so much to touch that you don’t know what to do with yourself.

“you’re very affectionate.” he states.

bakugou doesn’t stay around women long enough to get to this part of cuddly aftercare. being this way around women only comes when he visits other villages with the air of danger and debauchery. he used to think the fact he knew he could get killed for sleeping with women from the other villages made the sex more thrilling though lying outside naked with you is the most comfortable he’s ever felt. like he’s supposed to be here with you and everywhere else he’s ever been was wrong.

you shrug loosely, “everyone would want to touch you.”

your hand brushes against the thick hair on his lower stomach and bakugou frowns over at you.

“that’s not what i wanted to hear. i said you are. not everybody else.”

your voice drops a few decibels, you don’t mean for it to, “do you want me to tell you i think you’re attractive? i’ve been wanting to touch you for a while. watching all these people look at you like you’re their god, people willing to die for you. now you’re out here with no weapons, just pure muscle alone with me. it does something to a girl, you know?” a single eyebrow raises along with the corner of your lips.

surprise has your hands scrambling as two of his large palms find your waist and plops you right on his chest, straddling his body. he grabs his cloth to prop behind his head and he keeps his hands on your thighs, squeezing and massaging. this position is a lot, you hope he doesn’t feel how wet you are on his chest. imagining the wet patch when you shuffle off him makes you flush.

bakugou knows it’s stupid but he doesn’t want you to see how he’s half hard yet, just how easy you get him aroused by touching his chest and talking to him. 

“when do you think you’ll start seeing me as your god? it would make my life a lot easier,” he smirks.

you shake your head, “hopefully never, i want to see you as my husband and friend.”

“friend?”

bakugou feels taken aback at how easy conversation is with you, how he can’t stop talking just so he can hear you talk in return. you’re brushing his blonde locks off his forehead, “yeah, i’d love to be your friend. we did rush into this fiancé stuff rather quickly,” you giggle.

he hums, “friends with benefits.”

“men,” you shake your head mumbling even though you’d say the exact same. “my friends with benefits fiancé.”

“sounds good to me.”

bakugou realises all at once, he’s not as strong as he thought he was. also he can smell your pussy and it’s leaving smears on his chest. “would it be crazy to ask you to sit on my face? i can smell you, princess.”

your jaw drops at his bluntness and you want to roll off and close your legs though he pins you down by your thighs. the heat of your lower half increases intensely. you’d love to just grind on his chest but he’s offering his mouth? yes, you’ve daydreamed about this too.

“oh my god, katsuki.” you splutter and he drags you along his chest.

“cmon, wanna taste you properly. feel you fall apart ‘cause of my mouth,”

you’re not sure how you could even start to say no to him, especially when you only want to say yes. he looks angelic with the new moonlight beginning to dust his golden hair and you know you should be scared with the growing darkness but youre not. the thing that could cause the most damage is ready to beg to eat your pussy.

“you’re unbelievable,” you murmur even though you lift up to crawl up to his face. you’re hovering your heat above him and the man lets out this animalistic moan, his eyes falling shut. you feel a roll of wetness spread through you. bakugou’s hands hold your hips like his life depends on it.

“talk to me, princess. about anythin’ you want,”

“what do you—,”

he practically drops you on his mouth, his lips finding your clit with ease and sucking, hard.

“holy—,” you gasp, your back arching and it doesn’t take long at all for you to start grinding on his face, fingers clenching chunks of his hair like handlebars.

bakugou licks and licks between your legs, you can even feel him swallowing everything he gathers on his tongue before swiping again. your whole body rumbles, feeling as if it’s been set alight. you don’t think you’ve ever been treated with such need, such vigour. you’re a wheezing burst balloon of moans and mewls, rocking on his tongue and flinging your head back every time he nudges your clit.

he pulls you away from him for a single second and you’re already gasping at being away, “talk to me.”

then he dips his tongue in your hole and you’re withering.

“a-about what?” you whine as he stops lapping you up and bites down on your inner thigh, “oh fuck, katsuki!”

you begin to babble, anything that comes to mind, mostly all your thoughts about him. “i-i sometimes watch you carry furniture and hay barrels for the o-old ladies—,” a soft sigh slips through as his thumb presses against your asshole, “i think it’s so a-adorable b-but then you get all sweaty and fuck.” 

bakugou studies you through squinted eyes, every reaction, what you love, what you’re saying to him. he ignores the heaviness of his balls and focuses on pleasuring you. he hums between your legs and your grip tightens in his hair. you’ve been watching him, the same way he’s been watching you all the time.

he doesn’t need to push you to talk more because you’re doing it on your own. swirling your hips on his face, “i see t-the way the women look at you when we’re in town and it m-makes me…” you’re arching your back and bakugou knows your close. he presses down on your ass, sucking your clit between his lips, “it makes me so m-mad, katsuki,” you whine as if you’re close to tears, “thinking about if you’ve ever f-fucked them.”

fuck. oh shit, you’ve been jealous? bakugou knows it’s not healthy for him to get turned on by the prospect but you’ve been so annoyed around him all the time to find out you’ve been jealous? you’ve been staring at him this whole time?

his realisation hits as hard as your orgasm, the sensation rocking through your body, heat springing to the tips of your toes and fingers.

your wail is loud, though you’re both sure nobody is close enough to hear you. again you’re riding his face, taking what’s yours and smartly, he lets you. playing with you till your soft and limp, thighs about to squeeze his head from overstimulation.

he lifts you off him slowly, “okay princess, you’re good,” wrapping you in his chest as you try to regulate your breathing again. 

there’s crickets in the air, hoots of owls and the soft breeze making the trees dance. living in a village as a chief’s daughter, there weren't many opportunities to be outside in the dark and not assume imminent danger. in bakugou’s arms, you’re sure there's nothing you can't face.

bakugou blurts the words before he can even think about them, “i haven’t by the way.”

you glance up at his face, shocked to find how shiny his mouth is from his spit and you. you gasp and when he notices, he just wipes his face with his hand before sucking your juices off his fingers. his pink tongue darts out to taste every bit you left over and you cant help your next words coming out as a mindless flutter.

“you haven’t what?”

“fucked anyone from here,” he shakes his head.

you won’t call him a liar though it feels a little suspicious, “you’re not telling me you’re a virgin, are you?”

bakugou rumbles a laugh you can only find endearing despite the situation. you feel the laugh vibrating in his chest and you even lay your palm against it.

“no, princess i’m not.” 

you blink, you’re not sure why you feel so jealous of people you’ve never met, over a man you’ve known for not even a whole month. you definitely weren’t expecting your new fiancé, chief and leader to be a virgin, heck you’re not either but still it must be nice to be chosen by katsuki and not his family.

“okay,” you breathe.

“what? why do you sound all upset?” he rolls you on your back and lays sideways facing you so there’s no way you can escape his gaze. his rough fingers brush hair out your face before cupping your cheek. “talk to me. i can’t be a good husband otherwise.”

that seems to be the new button he can press to get you sharing all your secrets.

“just that it would be nice to be actually wanted by you instead of just being dumped with me.”

bakugou blinks, hand freezing before frowning, “what the fuck?”

“you’re stuck with me for the rest of your life, so it’s okay if you saw other people too. i think lots of marriages do this. i will probably too later on. i know you didn’t exactly want me and your parents chose me for you like mine chose you and—,”

“yn.” you think it’s the first time he’s said your name all night.

“yes?” you whisper.

“other people don’t matter, none of them matter. d’you really fuckin’ think that i didn’t choose you? that i didn’t have a say in having you as my wife? do you think you didn’t either?”

you’re silent for a moment, pondering on the idea, “what do you mean?”

bakugou huffs a laugh, “there’s loads of chiefs' daughters, army leaders' daughters across the villages, even countries, neighbouring countries. even so, i don’t need this deal our parents made, i can fend for my village.”

you sit up abruptly, looking out to the navy sky and his pupils only follow you nonchalantly, “so why am i here?”

“because i want you.” bakugou claims, loud and clear, “and you wanted me to. otherwise you would have told your parents no like you did to every other dickhead suitor that came your way.”

you glance over at him and he only looks back at you. 

“tell me i’m right. ask my village, i’m never fuckin’ wrong.”

your mouth opens though nothing comes out. bakugou, however, just lays back on the grass, closing his eyes. “couldn’t say no to my beat up face and what did you say earlier? sweaty body helping old ladies?”

you shove his side though he doesn’t move, he just yanks you back down into his chest.

“you’re insane.”

“they always say that to the one that knows the truth,” he lays a kiss on your forehead and you feel at home. then his tone turns stern like a lecture, “i’m yours and you’re mine. nobody is seeing anyone else.” then he stops, biting down on his lips, “but if you do ever think about that then you have to tell me—,”

you shake your head, “no, i only said that in case you did.”

“i fuckin’ don’t. you’re all i need.”

“good.” you trace your finger across his collarbone, “i guess i did choose you. i’d get love letters from the most random men and they’d even turn up at my home declaring marriage with me. a whole song and dance. then you came along with a gorgeous ring and you didn’t even have to say too much, everyone’s heard about you. i thought i said yes to get it all over and done with, my parents wanted me to marry so bad. i think i was just waiting for you.”

bakugou reaches for your hand, kissing the ring on your finger. “i was waitin’ for you too.”

“katsuki?”

“wife?” you poke his side, so he corrects himself not before rolling his eyes, “fiance? princess?”

“it’s getting chilly, so let's go indoors. i’ll put my dress back on.”

bakugou stops you from getting your clothes, “they’re dirty, i’ll just bring you inside.”

“i’m not going inside naked?!”

“i’ll cover you,” and he demonstrates how he’d do so by standing up and effortlessly dragging your body from the floor and into his arms. your chest is against his, your arms around his neck with his arm against your ass. 

“your servants are going to drop dead after seeing us like this so soon.”

“they knew this would happen. they could feel the sexual attraction every time you’d bite my head off for asking you a question at dinner.”

“they were always stupid questions!”

“you never gave me much to work with,” he replies and without too much thought, bakugou presses a kiss to your lips. a soft one like lovers would. “how about you come out with my friends and their wives tomorrow?”

you’re biting down on your lip and nodding before he even finishes, “as friends with benefits fiancés?”

bakugou chuckles, loud and brash, starting the walk up to your shared home, “whatever you want as long as i’m yours.”

you wrap your arms around his neck tighter as bakugou manoeuvres you both in the dark. your smile is glowing and you don’t think you’ve ever felt so happy, “yes chief.”

feedback appreciated

I fucking love being a brat

Yandere! Illumi Zoldyck General Profile

Yandere! Illumi Zoldyck x fem! reader

Tw: kidnapping, stalking, non-con, breaking and entering, slight somnophilia, misogynistic undertones, traditional gender roles, mentions of forced breeding/forced motherhood, murder, violence, lots of descriptions of killing methodologies, slight mentions of self induced wounds, fem reader, MDNI

I do not condone any of the actions described in this post - this is fiction and should be treated as such. If you or a loved one is in a similar situation to anything contained in this post or my blog in general, please seek help. You're in charge of your internet consumption; please make responsible choices. With that, enjoy!

WC: 11K

DARLING PROFILE:

Gentle

It takes Illumi a long time to develop feelings for his darling for a multitude of reasons.

Emotional unavailability, high expectations, and disinterest, just to name a few, and while he isn’t actively searching for a partner, there are a few base requirements he knows his future partner must meet.

Strong, intelligent, hard working, everything desirable that he knows both he and his family would approve of.

But once he meets his darling, his interest slightly peaked in them, that list begins changing slightly.

Because while the feelings are slow to solidify, Illumi notices quickly that his darling is so, so painfully averse to being harsh.

They’re not confrontational, treat others with a level of attentiveness and care that initially makes him scoff, and he doesn’t think he’s once seem them ever lose control of themselves and explode.

It’s uncanny, unnatural, as far as Illumi is concerned, and yet it’s fascinating. He slowly grows to admire this trait in his darling, how they can be so unconditionally soft with everything and everyone around them, eventually finding himself more and more attracted to them with every kind deed they do. It makes them weak, easy to manipulate, easy to kill, but Illumi finds it oddly endearing.

He’s always firmly believed that mothers should be nurturing to their children, to help them grow and shape them into the best versions of themselves possible, and while they’re opposite to his mother in many ways, maybe that gentility they possess is a the perfect thing needed.

Once he’s decided that his darling is his future wife, he’s immediately moving to experience this kindness for himself.

He comes back from missions with a little more blood and bruising than was necessary, but the way his darling gasps and quickly grabs the medical kit makes Illumi blink in wide fascination, unsure what drives them to eagerly spring into action but more than ready to feel their soft touch.

(They don’t need to know that Illumi allowed the target to get a few more hits in than necessary, just to keep them fawning over him as long as possible, or that he had to refuse ten different medical personnel in the mansion before making it to their shared ‘bedroom’.)

He likes the juxtaposition between his darling and him, and while it occasionally irritates him that they’re so soft and weak, it’s more endearing than anything else – just don’t be soft with anyone else but him, yes?

Smart

Illumi may be morally misguided, but the man is intelligent. He knows more about the human body than many doctors, and is skilled beyond belief in the art of combat and stealth.

He understands the best ways to go about gathering intel on a target without being traced or caught, and is able to apply that knowledge to set up traps correlating to his employers’ requests.

And this is a trait he’s simply unwilling to compromise when it comes to a partner – they must be able to keep up with him mentally.

They don’t need to have the same kind of intelligence as him, but the ability to critically think and quickly understand is a necessity. Illumi has very little patience for stupidity, and the thought of spending time with someone who doesn’t understand most of what he says is irritating.

And so, once his feelings for his darling begin appearing, Illumi is putting them through a small series of tests to make sure they live up to his expectations. It’s nothing too intense, nothing he wouldn’t be able to do himself.

He’s leaving extra clues that he’s been in his darling’s apartment – clumsy signs that he’d never normally leave, in the hopes that they’ll realize they’ve had an unwanted guest.

Cabinets are left ajar, their bed slightly unmade, though the thing that really clues them in is the presence of long, dark locks of hair around their apartment that they know aren’t theirs.

They’d never leave hair on the kitchen table; they’d see it and remove it, mildly disgusted. And yet, here three locks lay, making them a bit paranoid as they call the police.

Illumi intercepts the call, making sure it never rings through, but he’s still proud of his darling, satisfaction pooling in his chest because he just knew they’d pick up on it.

He likes knowing his darling is competent, and that their future children will be so too – the next Zoldyck heirs can’t be clueless, after all.

Generous

In general, Illumi isn’t particularly selfish with those he holds dear.

With the exception of Killua, Illumi has always willingly done as he’s been told.

He’s never demanded much from his parents, never insisting on material goods. He’s never felt cheated out of anything, either – his parents have molded him into the perfect assassin, and he couldn’t be more grateful for the rigor and training he received as a child.

And yet, once his darling enters his life, Illumi finds himself feeling strangely overwhelmed. They always seem to be giving things away – their time, bits of food they’ve cooked, their love, other things material and not alike.

It confuses Illumi; it makes him wonder why they’re wasting their resources on people they don’t know well, on those who likely wouldn’t reciprocate.

It’s a mystery, and frankly he finds his darling to be foolish for it – until one day it’s focused at him.

Illumi can’t comprehend why his darling is willingly giving away a bit of their time when they encounters him – in another body – disguised as a homeless man begging for change.

There’s a pitied look in their eye as they hand him the bills – two dollars, just what they had in change and could afford to give away – and tells him there’s a gas station nearby with cheap snacks he can eat.

Illumi just stares at them, not understanding why they’re helping, and soon he’s asking just that.

They startle and awkwardly laugh, telling him it’s because they don’t like seeing others in need, and they were only planning on spending that money to buy junk foods for themselves, anyways.

Illumi blinks, but his darling is soon speed walking away, the interaction feeling strange and uncomfortable.

Illumi still doesn’t understand, but it becomes another one of the facets of his darling that he simply learns to enjoy.

He yearns to understand what compels them to put others before themselves (something that yet again irritates him a bit), but he finds that the more he interacts with them, the more he enjoys being the recipient of it.

He’s finally receiving a bit of love and support that isn’t forced from his parents, and he quickly grows addicted.

Enjoys children 

The reality of the situation is that as Illumi’s darling, they will be forced to interact with children whether they want to or not.

Namely, their own.

Having a family with him is not optional, and Illumi will never present it as such – once he decides his darling is to be his partner, they automatically become his future wife, the future mother of his children.

He cannot be swayed, regardless of what his darling wants.

However, while it’s still possible for him to grow obsessed with a darling who isn’t especially fond of kids, it’s much more likely that he grows attracted to the ease with which they’re able to communicate with them.

He likes the way they get so happy when a child walks up to them, how they’re immediately squatting down and smiling, playing hide and seek with their own face as the child giggles and beams.

He never knew that sort of innocent and sweet interaction when he himself was a child, but he doesn’t view it as a bad thing if his darling is able to make a child happy.

It’ll only benefit them as parents – it’ll help strengthen the bond, and make their children more malleable and receptive to their guidance.

Besides, there’s something about seeing his darling next to a baby that makes his skin feel hot, eyes blowing wide and his trousers tightening.

The image just looks so right, so natural and perfect that Illumi has to hold himself back from bending them over and fucking them right then and there.

Talent with children is an incredibly attractive trait for Illumi, and likely it's the final nail in the coffin that seals his obsession with his darling – one giggling toddler is all that’s needed to seal their fate.

GENERAL YANDERE TRAITS:

Stalker

More than anything, stalking you is the only method of ‘interaction’ with you that Illumi feels truly comfortable with.

He knows how to stay invisible; tracking others is easy, as is staying in the shadows and keeping that wide, unnaturally glassy stare on them. He’s used to watching but not being seen, and it’s only natural to extend this towards you. It feels right to be watching you, like he’s where he’s meant to be, and for the beginning of his obsession he spends every free moment stalking you, hiding in corners or shadows and just staring.

 (And really, this behavior lasts all throughout his infatuation, even when he’s got you trapped in the Zoldyck manor, even when you’re nursing his baby, even when you’ve both grown old and death approaches – it’s just that in the beginning, you’re not aware of the black eyes that follow your every move. And that’s a luxury that gets taken all too soon, as you find yourself longing for ignorance of Illumi in every possible way.)

Not to mention, there is no part of him that feels any guilt for it – he’s a cold-blooded assassin, of course, but at no point does it occur to him that it may be strange to be following you, or that you wouldn’t appreciate him watching over you (and watching you, generally).

He doesn’t understand that he shouldn’t approach you like he approaches a target – of course, you won’t be on the receiving end of his needles (at least, not with death his ultimate goal – perhaps something less lethal, like love or submission or lust), but otherwise his intentions are the same.

(Well, mostly – not really, actually, because Illumi doesn’t feel this strange, pleasant warmth in his chest when he’s watching his targets, nor does he feel particularly intrigued when he’s staring at them as they sleep, watching their chest rise and fall and the relaxed, utterly content expression on their face.)

The process of stalking you is remarkably similar to his jobs – first, he’ll choose a place within your home that gives him a good, solid vantage point with minimal risk that he’ll be noticed.

(Though, it’s not exactly hard to hide when you’re so damn oblivious – Illumi swears you have little to no awareness of your surroundings, if the way you sometimes knock into tables or trip over shoes in your doorway is anything to go by.)

His stand-by places are usually in a rarely used storage closet with the door cracked open, just wide enough for his dark eyes to peer through, or perhaps behind a chair you rarely use, crouched and peeking behind the cloth, and when you sit down in said chair, it gives Illumi the opportunity to stand up slightly, towering over you and getting a perfect view of your pretty body and smelling your hair.

But if it’s nighttime and you’re already snuggled up in your bed, eyes glued to your phone screen as you scroll and scroll and neglect your sleep, he'll stand silently and deathly still in the corner.

He’s able to stay perfectly still and maintain the same position for hours at a time, hardly blinking, hardly moving, hardly even breathing, it seems.

And he’s utilizing this skill set to its full potential when it comes to you – Illumi is greedy, and while this doesn’t initially get channeled into being overly possessive of you (though that certainly comes later), it instead translates into this insatiable need to constantly have his eyes on you and to be in your presence every moment he isn’t needed on a job.

There are no boundaries with him, because Illumi genuinely doesn’t see the need to have them. You’re already destined to spend your lives together, so why shouldn’t he start the process of learning more about you?

Autonomy doesn’t really exist with him – he could be considered clingy if his view of your lives being so irreversibly intertwined wasn’t as clinical and matter of fact.

And so Illumi doesn’t operate barred by any sort of moral guidelines – so when he’s using his needles to morph into another face so that he can practice the lines and compliments he’s been told by his mother that will make you swoon, it doesn’t register to him that it might be creepy that he’s practicing wooing you in another body.

(The man is disturbing, and you’re uncomfortable with the way this stranger doesn’t seem to be getting the hint that you want him to leave you alone; why is he standing so close to you? Why is he staring at you like that? Why is he following you?)

It doesn’t register to him that it’s a breach of trust to be pretending to be someone you love and trust, just to extract more information about you.

(Your cousin is acting strangely when they speak to you – their words are clipped and sound just slightly off, and you’re sure they already know what your dreams for the future are. You’ve talked about this with them before, so why are they questioning you on what your ideal house looks like, your ideal partner, your favorite baby names?)

He spends a lot of time observing you, collecting information on you in every way he can, and this doesn’t stop once you’re trapped by his side and with the rest of his crazy, horrible family – it’s a habit, more than anything, but it’s so much worse when you’re aware, when you can see and feel his dark eyes boring into you, making you squirm under the intensity of his gaze.

Of course, talking to him about it won’t do a single thing – only earning you a slight head tilt and a question of does it bother you when I watch you? I apologize, I only meant to keep an eye on you, my dear.

He genuinely doesn’t understand that stalking you and keeping a tab on you at all times is something that you very much don’t appreciate, but you’ll quickly come to learn that with Illumi, there’s only so much you can change – so much being quite literally nothing.

Controlling

This particular manifestation of his obsession with you is a culmination of many different things.

Firstly, it’s simply his personality – when he loves, he possesses, this ugly, carnal feeling stirring in his gut that pushes him to be in control, to guide and oversee every little thing the target of his love does. He’s always felt this way with Killua – he loves his brother immensely, but that love translates as being controlling and always keeping a finger on what Killua does, says, and feels.

Secondly, it’s the intense pressure coming from his family. Kikyo expects your total obedience both to her and her son, and while Illumi can sometimes stand up to his mother on matters where your safety and wellbeing are concerned, he can’t deny her expectations of you being absolutely subservient to him, bending to his every whim and allowing him to dictate every aspect of your life.

And finally, it’s his own paranoia that pushes him to micromanage you in every way possible. He’s never had someone to call his before – he’s unselfish in nature, dedicating himself to his family in every possible way, and now that he’s been given a woman to call his own, to spoil and love and keep by his side, he’s not entirely sure how to react.

Your presence soothes him in a way he’s never experienced before; you’re so soft and caring and warm, all things he’s never had. His life has been hardships and tough love, training and never being good enough, and now that you’re in the picture, Illumi isn’t entirely sure how to handle himself.

He doesn’t doubt himself, per se, but he’s unsure how to successfully navigate a marriage. Would you like it if he was more physical with you? Perhaps you’d like more hugs or for him to hold your hand or kiss you more often – that’s what all the popular media resources he’s looked into have told him.

Or maybe you’d prefer a more quiet, subtle kind of love, where you both support one another with meaningful looks and the occasional touch, whispered words that carry more weight than they seem.

He’s not sure, despite all the stalking and information retrieving he’s preformed in your name, and that makes him nervous. He doesn’t like that he can’t anticipate what you’ll want or how to make you happy – it makes him feel less-than, as if he’s not quite the perfect match that his mother and father have always said his wife will be.

He doesn’t like not being sure of himself, and so this worry manifests itself as becoming firmer in his treatment of you, locking down on the few things he’s absolutely sure of.

It comes off as controlling, sure, but Illumi doesn’t mean to be when he’s telling you what to wear, rifling through the closet he procured for you and pulling out a dress he thinks suits your complexion – you may hate it, but he likes it, so you’ll wear it.

He’s not trying to be controlling when he’s clicking his tongue lightly and telling you to keep your posture straight, dear every time you sit down, even if your shoulders are only barely, slightly slumped.

He’s not trying to be controlling when he’s standing over the bathtub and watching you wash yourself, telling you to use more soap, darling, don’t you want to be clean?

(Nevermind his dark eyes blinking slowly and getting stuck on the soapy outline of your breasts under the warm water – surely you’re just imagining that, along with the tent forming in his trousers.)

He’s not trying to be controlling when he’s roughly grabbing your hand and forcing you behind him when you’re walking through the hallways of the manor, his gaze narrowing at the butler standing at attention, paranoia eating away at him because he could have sworn the man was staring at you as you entered the room, and he can’t have that. Even as an employee of the family, no one but Illumi can look at you with any degree of desire – you are his, and if it means cleaning up a body and finding a new butler to replace him, Illumi will do what is needed to keep you his.

IIlumi is quite frankly totally unaware of his controlling behavior – he doesn’t realize anything is wrong because in his eyes nothing is wrong. This is love – it’s how his father always treated his mother when he was young, his eyes cold and his heart even colder, his words cutting her down and remolding her into a woman more fitting of being the matriarch of the Zoldycks.

And while he doesn’t want to break you down or remake you, he’s following his father’s example in making sure that you’re entirely accounted for. You’re his responsibility, and while he doesn’t view you as merely a pet, you’ll often feel like a glorified dog with the way he controls your life down to every second, always telling you that it’s time to go eat, or time to sleep, or time to shower, or time to kiss him and let him undress you.

He's pushy without even meaning to be, but if you bring this behavior up to him, he’ll be surprised. Genuinely – his brows will quirk up ever so slightly, his already wide eyes getting a hair wider because really? I had no idea, my dear. Thank you for bringing this to my attention; I will reduce the frequency on my instructions towards you.

But he doesn’t, even if he promises he will.

And it’s not entirely his fault – he thinks he is, even going so far as to be expectant of your praise when he holds himself back from telling you to use the other fork when he’s dining with you privately. Surely you must be proud of him – he’s doing as you asked, being a good husband and fulfilling your desires and wishes.

So why aren’t you praising him?

Why aren’t you mentioning anything about how generous he’s being, how considerate he is?

You’ve blatantly disregarded his attempts at trying to be less ‘controlling’, as you claim, and Illumi takes this as a sign to only double down and become more omnipresent, because obviously you haven’t quite learned how to be a kind, grateful, adoring wife.

You haven’t quite yet learned the lessons he’s been trying to teach you – so you need more guidance. You need more advice, a firmer hand to push you towards becoming the best, most noble version of yourself, and lucky, lucky you has a loving, oh so eager husband right there willing to step into that role.

He’s domineering and in control of every aspect of your life, but there’s almost a small sense of relief that you’ll eventually feel. Because really, while it makes you feel weak and pathetic and pitiful to have him controlling how long you brush your teeth every morning and night, isn’t there something kind of nice about relinquishing your responsibilities? Isn’t there something oddly nice about not having to make your own decisions, to let Illumi take care of everything, to not have to worry about anything ever again?

It's the Stockholm Syndrome talking, and you may even know it – but it doesn’t matter, because the longer you spend under Illumi’s thumb, the less you’ll find yourself caring about things like choice and autonomy and preference. All that matter is what he wants, what he thinks is best – because really, doesn’t he know best?

Isn’t he superior to you in every possible way?

Protective

Illumi has a very, very good understanding of the human body.

He has to – his job depends on it, after all, and Illumi is nothing if not dedicated to his work. He knows every muscle, vein, and bone, their purpose and exactly what it would mean if it was removed.

He knows what organs must stay in tact for survival, how much blood a person can lose and stay conscious, how cold temperature can drop before hypothermia begins, even how long a person can survive without sleeping.

And it’s this wide breadth of knowledge that leads Illumi to know just how pathetically weak you are.

There are so many possible ways to hurt you – everything from a gunshot to a paper cut could potentially end your tragically fragile life, and the longer Illumi watches you, the more uncomfortable this knowledge becomes.

It’s not that you’re objectively incapable of defending yourself – perhaps you know some basic self-defense, or perhaps your survival instincts are sharp enough to keep you away from dangerous situations. No – it’s more that Illumi knows what other people are capable of, what nen is capable of, and he knows that you’d simply be no match if someone were to attack you.

And so, this puts him into a rather uncomfortable spot; at the beginning of his obsession with you, when his feels were still freshly formed and underdeveloped, he felt no sense of protectiveness over you. You’re an adult, you can care for yourself – you’ve survived this long, haven’t you?

But then he starts noticing how wide your smile can get, or how soft your hand is when you’re sleeping, or how pretty your voice sounds when you’re singing in your kitchen and making yourself dinner.

He starts noticing that you’ve been biting your lip, the skin a little puffy and swollen and stinging a bit. Did you know that your lip could get infected, and if you don’t get to a doctor fast enough, that infection could cost you your life?

He starts noticing that the skin of your hands is a little dry, and you keep getting hangnails. Did you know that dry skin can be a sign of serious nutrition deficiencies, and if you don’t enough potassium you could end up in the hospital and slowly waste away until you eventually can no longer hold on?

He starts noticing that sometimes your voice gets a little hoarse after you try to sing a particularly high note, your voice cracking and a series of coughs racking your body. Did you know that if you cough too hard, you can actually strain your lungs and affect their ability to take in oxygen, potentially suffocating you?

Time passing brings him to the realization that the idea of you dying makes him frown, something unpleasant brewing in his chest that he guesses is sadness. He doesn’t like the idea of you passing away – he wants you alive, and if you were to die, he wouldn’t be able to watch you anymore, to feel that warm, addicting feeling in his heart you give him. If you were to suddenly keel over and die, he’d be left all alone – like normal, yes, but now that he knows what it's like to have someone, to want someone, Illumi doesn’t think he could return to his old existence.

And so, the solution is simple: keep you alive.

Except, it’s much harder to keep someone living and breathing than it is to simply kill them, and quickly Illumi is realizing just how tall an order this is. Because really, there’s just so much that could potentially injure you, that could potentially lead to your life being in danger.

You’re just so damn clumsy – he’s watched you trip over air, and if you’re that naturally unaware of your surroundings, who’s to say you wouldn’t be susceptible to even the most minor injuries? How can he be sure that you’ll manage to evade even the most innocent of accidents?

You won’t. He’s sure of it.

And so, he’s growing slightly paranoid because every new object you encounter is immediately a threat to him, five different ways that object could endanger you immediately flashing through his mind.

A pair of car keys? They’re dull and blunt, sure, but if they were thrust into your chest just right they could rupture something, cause you to bleed out, give you tetanus or metal poisoning.

A book you’re obsessing over? You could get a papercut, a slice across your pretty skin, and Kalluto has proven that paper can be incredibly deadly.

Your damn cell phone? Well, the screen is horrible for your eyes, your information could be sold and land in the hands of someone nefarious, and he knows you look at it while you’re walking on busy streets.

There’s just so many avenues for you to get hurt, and Illumi works himself to the bone to prevent any of them from successfully causing you harm. And he’s effective, too – you’ll find your knives have suddenly disappeared, your razors too, even any sort of pill you have that’s stronger than Ibuprofen.

All your outlets have suddenly stopped working, your ovens too, even your dishwasher.

Your shower doesn’t seem to be able to get as hot as it used to, and you don’t remember your pillows being as fluffy or numerous as they currently are.

You’ll know something is wrong, your anxiety shooting through the roof because someone must be robbing you, setting foot into your home and stealing all your things.

The reality is much more sinister, much more terrifying, and as soon as you wake up in Illumi’s hold, you’ll realize that your situation is much, much worse than you’d imagined.

He’s going to every length to keep you safe and sound from potential harm, even if it leaves you feeling pitiful and beyond ashamed, the babyproofed bathroom he lets you use making you ill when you see the way there’s locks on the cabinets to prevent you from rooting around for anything that could cause irreparable damage.

It’ll make you feel incompetent, embarrassed even when Illumi tries to comfort you by saying that he doesn’t think you’re incapable, just not entirely trustworthy, my dear. There’s a difference.

(His voice is always just slightly condescending when he talks to you, and this is surely no exception – it’ll make you feel worse, but he doesn’t seem to notice or care.)

Because really, all that matters to Illumi is making sure that you stay alive – he’s selfish, wanting to keep you solely to himself, and even if that means making sure you go nowhere unaccompanied, to nothing without his help, make no decisions by yourself, he doesn’t mind.

He’s doing it for you, for your shared love, for the good of your relationship.

And if you don’t seem to understand that for now, he’s sure someday you will. Someday you’ll realize the extent to which Illumi cares for you – why else would he do so very much for you, his devotion to you spanning long before he finally got to sink his claws (and cock) into you?

So really, shouldn’t you be grateful?

DEALING WITH RIVALS:

Jealousy is very much not something Illumi has ever really had to deal with.

His whole life has been training, killing, devotion to his family and the Zoldyck name, and as an assassin he’s never really been envious of anyone, or really had strong enough feelings about anything to want something.

It’s a concept he understands in theory but begins questioning it when it comes to the way it makes people crazy, the way people act so strangely in circumstances where envy and jealousy are concerned. It seems entirely stupid, something that only serves to derail situations.

And yet, once a strange nagging feeling begins at the edges of his mind, Illumi finds himself wondering if this is the famous jealousy he’s always heard of.

It doesn’t feel good – it’s like there’s something pulling at his heart, a hand wrapped around it and squeezing every so often, the feeling almost painful and certainly irritating.

But the more he’s around you, the more it persists – almost seeming to grow by the day, even if you’re fully alone, in your apartment reading a book or scrolling through your phone. Illumi very suddenly understands why jealousy is known as something so horrible, something that eats you up inside and won’t leave you alone – that is, Illumi quickly begins noticing that he isn’t the only man vying for your attention and love.

Because he’s constantly watching you, following you and making sure that he knows everything there is to know about your life and relationships with others, he doesn’t miss the situations where you interact with another man, where you smile and laugh and even compliment other men, all right in front of him.

(Illumi tends to conveniently disregard the fact that you aren’t able to sense him, that you aren’t aware that you have a dangerous, murderous stalker trailing your every move.)

It’s irritating, frustrating, distracting enough to be seriously affecting his work – he’ll have a fleeting thought of the way you’d smiled at that other man a week ago as he goes for the final stab into the target’s chest, but the slight snarl he lets out has him missing just slightly, instead nicking the target in the shoulder and giving them an opportunity to scramble away.

Illumi’s irritation only increases at that, and soon there’s blood splattered along the floor as he breaths deeply, the red staining his clothing standing out bright.

He really tried to ignore it at first, but once it began affecting him even when he’s not in your presence, Illumi knew he had to solve the problem. And after a quick, rather detached conversation with his father about it, Illumi was quickly enlightened that he was in fact jealous, his father having laughed lightly and patting him on the arm, telling him that it’s natural to feel that way about your wife, Illumi. Your duty is as an assassin, but as a member of this family. If the woman you’ve chosen to bear your heir is giving you such feelings, I see no harm in acting upon them. It will serve you well to focus more on your work, as well.

And so Illumi embraces this newfound permission to foster this emotion - it’s odd, the way what he’s fairly confident is anger coils around his heart, making his fists clench slightly, his nails digging into his palms as he watches you talk and laugh with that man. That man, who probably doesn’t even know how to use nen, who probably doesn’t even understand how perfect of a wife you could be, how good of a mother and perfect addition to his family you’d be.

It’s strange, and while Illumi doesn’t particularly enjoy it, he can’t deny the odd sense of finality that comes with killing without being paid to, the strange sensation of enjoying ending a life. He finds himself smiling after plunging his nails into a man’s jugular, but Illumi isn’t too horribly bothered.

It’s new and strange, but so is everything else you make Illumi experience, after all. Why should this be any different?

As he trails behind you in the shadows, his dark eyes train in on your figure as you bite your lip and look over the selection of fruit displayed out on the cart of the farmer’s market.

Illumi stays perfectly still, completely focused on watching you. You’re wearing a pair of jeans today, pants that hug your figure a little too tightly for his tastes, along with a sweatshirt that does quite the opposite – hiding your upper body, which Illumi only finds slightly more agreeable.

(In the back of his mind, he makes a mental note to have a talk with you about proper dress for a woman such as yourself – a woman who’s to become part of a powerful, wealthy family, and as such must represent them - and her husband - with her head held high and confidence oozing from her. He’s sure a nice skirt and blouse will do the trick – silky or satin, shimmery and soft like you. Or, perhaps, a dress – maybe a floral pattern or a deep magenta. Of course, you’ll eventually be wearing purple, the Zoldyck family color, but he knows women enjoy fashion, and he's interested to see what you’d pick.)

As he thinks through what he’ll say to you, already planning out how the conversation will go, he notices a man with shaggy brown hair and honey brown eyes take a deep breath and walk beside you, standing next to you and looking over the selection of apples, pears, oranges and various other fruits.

Illumi’s expression makes no change as the brunette says something about how there’s always too many options at markets like these, types of fruit that he’s never heard of making it difficult to choose, to which you laugh and full heartedly agree.

The assassin makes no move, but as he watches and listens with distaste lodged in the back of his throat, you continue on the conversation, asking the man’s advice on which type of apple you should get.

It’s a short interaction, in all honesty - maybe a minute maximum, but Illumi is still watching with a heavy, piercing gaze, feeling the same odd, sickly feeling rise up from his chest.

He’s already decided that if the man moves to lay even a finger on you he’ll emerge from the shadows, swiftly and triumphantly piercing his chest with his entire hand.

Maybe that’ll get him to stop talking.

But the man doesn’t, and so Illumi begrudgingly lets the conversation run its course. You eventually say goodbye to the man and ask him if he’d like to meet up at the same booth in a week to compare the types of fruit.

Immediately Illumi’s fist clenches, his nails sharpening and digging into his palms, drops of blood littering the pavement below him as his eyes never stray, keeping trained on you as you walk in the opposite direction of the man, who is now blushing and smiling like a fool.

Disgusting, Illumi thinks as he follows the man.

The world won’t miss him, is all he’s thinking as he pulls a pin and flicks his wrist, the needle sinking into his neck. He watches with a dull gaze as the fast acting poison renders the man immobile, falling to his knees as his chest slows its breaths, eventually no longer moving.

You most certainly won’t, he thinks as he picks up the body, unsheathing the needle after life has left the body, finding a nearby trash bin to stuff the man into.

It isn’t the most efficient method of dealing with a body, but Illumi can’t be bothered – after all, in the some thirty seconds it’s taken him to deal with the man who thought he had a chance with what Illumi has already claimed as his, you’ve managed to make it a bit further from him, wandering through the maze of stalls with the bag full of produce in your hands.

He’s immediately falling into step behind you, the flexing of his fingers doing nothing to distract him as he brings back his stare, internally sighing as he sees another man – this time blond – look over at you and not so subtly rake his eyes up and down your body.

Illumi’s brow twitches – he only brought twenty needles this morning, and you’ve only been at the market for some fifteen minutes. Already he only has three left, and with a small sigh he reminds himself to bring more tomorrow, as he’ll surely use them.

And really, while Illumi doesn’t enjoy that other men are looking at you, being deluded enough to believe that they have a chance with you, he needs to make sure that there are no complications with your union, that there will be no problems to take care of when he eventually whirls you away to his home, where you’ll be his lovely wife that provides him with children and a warmth he can’t explain.

There’s a certain thrill that comes with letting himself feel, with not pushing down the emotion as his father said – a certain thrill that he can only feel where you’re concerned.

After all, you’re just that special.

TAKING HIS DARLING AWAY:

From the moment Illumi decides that you’re a good match for him, it becomes a known fact (at least, among his family) that you would eventually be living alongside him in the Zoldyck manor.

You don’t have a choice, really – all of his family lives together on the mountain, and you will be no exception, despite your temporary status as an honorary member.

(This status is temporary if only because now you aren’t an official Zoldyck, but the moment you become pregnant with his child, this status changes – you’re a real Zoldyck then, because inside you grows the family’s next assassin, a product of Illumi’s devotion to you and proof of your resolve to commit yourself to the Zoldycks. It’s all terribly romantic to Illumi, even if it makes you want to hurl, and he’ll have no qualms telling you this information – he’ll even frame it as if it’s some sort of incentive to get you eagerly spreading your legs for him. He treats it like you want to be accepted into the family – like it’s your deepest desire, and no amount of arguing or pleading with him will convince him otherwise.)

You will be sharing a bed with him, living under the same roof and spending all your time beside him when he’s not away for a job, whether you like it or not, and Illumi has known this from the very beginning. You’ll be curled up in his arms, his skin cold and slightly clammy as he holds you, his grip much too tight and stiff even as he sleeps – you can hardly move, every breath you take feeling constricted and controlled, as if Illumi is doing you a favor by allowing you just a bit of space to breathe.

It takes him a while to fully develop and understand what his feelings mean, but once he does he isn’t holding back in any form - his family was, for lack of a better word, floored the night that their eldest son casually mentioned having selected his future wife. Kikyo was immediately pressing him for details, wanting to know every fact and scrap of information about her future daughter in law, which Illumi was happy to provide.

He immediately spouted off your name, age, basic personality, physical features, hobbies, interests, important life events, past and current jobs, relationships with your parents, friends, partners, anything and everything he can think of, Kikyo listening all the while with a scowl on her face. She’s confused on why her precious son has chosen you, considering you weren’t a skilled nen user, a fighter or even someone of great importance.

She’s not completely convinced of her son’s choice, but there’s a strange determination to Illumi’s normally lifeless eyes that she can see that makes her back off a bit, leaving her with an odd sense of finality in his words, confidence in his decision that makes it hard to argue.

(Besides, everyone knows Killua is the true heir of the family – as long as Illumi produces members to join the Zoldyck ranks, it’s not so important who chooses to wed. As long as they’re suitable for conception, she’ll begrudgingly accept – perhaps not with enthusiasm, but she’ll relent nonetheless.)

Silva is listening as well, though not as intensely as his wife, and after Illumi finishes his some twenty minute recall of your information, he merely takes a sip of his drink and nods, telling his son to treat her with care, she sounds weak in comparison to you.

Milluki is rolling his eyes, wondering why his brother decided on someone so normal, though he doesn’t dare say anything. Internally, though, he’s already imagining what you look like, his mental picture of you built upon Illumi’s descriptions, but with just a bit more detail – things his brother hadn’t mentioned, like the size of your chest or if you’re clumsy or if your voice is high and feminine and whiny.

Kalluto only nods, wondering what you’ll be like in person if you’ve managed to catch his older brother’s eye.

His mother is still disappointed in his choice, but wastes no time helping Illumi prepare for your eventual arrival, helping him create a regiment for how to integrate you into the family, how to work with your needs, considering your status as a mere commoner.

And while Illumi lets his mother plan and schedule and bustle about, he’s merely thinking of how he should take you away, tuning out his mother’s shrill words as she yells and commands butlers, telling them to prepare and clean and do everything so that Illumi’s new wife will be received well.

In all reality, Illumi – while very much concerned with his family’s acceptance of you, considering the tightness and loyalty instilled into him – isn’t especially concerned about the plans his mother is running wild preparing. He knows that with enough time and training, you’ll eventually fit right into the mold his mother wants you to, or at least as far into it as Illumi is allowing.

Because really, while he agrees that you need to be toughened up at least a little bit in order to survive in the mansion and be strong enough to bear his children, he doesn’t want your core personality to change – he fell in love with you for a reason, and while you must be trained a bit to survive as a Zoldyck, he doesn’t want you to become a stranger.

And so instead of listening to his mother’s plans, he’s slipping out under the cover of nightfall and climbing through the familiar window of your bedroom, your sleeping form laying so still and peaceful, like you’re just waiting for him to come steal you away.

A pin (as much as he hates piercing your skin with the needle, it must be done) is applied to your shoulder and your sleep is suddenly much heavier, your body visibly going limp, your breaths getting longer and deeper, and for a moment he worries that he’s infused too much nen into the needle, that your breathing will just keep slowing until it eventually stops.

His grip against his spare needles tightens at the thought, the force so strong that it snaps the metal in half, the sound knocking him from his thoughts as he blinks down at you, a small sense of relief filling him because your chest is still steadily rising and falling.

Illumi carries you in his arms back to the manor, not minding the weight of your body holding him down.

And just as he passes through the gates, he feels what he thinks might be excitement brewing in his chest.

Life with Illumi will be, in all honesty, hell.

It’s not so much that he enjoys making you miserable or seeing you uncomfortable, but rather that he’s grown up with such intense expectations, such strict regimes and schedules that he upholds you to similar standards.

Of course, you won’t be going through training to become an assassin while you’re with him – no practice with combat or anything so violent, if only because Illumi’s worry over your safety prohibits him from allowing you anywhere near a knife or a fist cocked and ready to be swung.

(Not to mention the fact that he plans on you going absolutely nowhere without him, and as such there’s no reason for you to learn how to defend yourself. You don’t need to build up immunity to poison, how to most effectively snap a neck, or to learn any number of the cruel things that he thinks are much too unwomanly for someone like you.)

No, the schedule and timetables he puts you on are much more general, humiliating, dehumanizing – being told when you can and can’t use the restroom is something you’ll quickly come to realize takes away even the barest scrap of dignity and independence you have left under Illumi’s control.

He dictates what time you wake up, what you eat for each meal of the day, and your activities between meals - comprised mostly of more feminine things, as his mother advised you learn, like sewing and mending, floral arrangement, proper dining etiquette, and of course, lessons on how to properly raise children, taught by Kikyo herself.

(From the get go, it will be extremely apparent to you that the entirety of the Zoldyck family – Illumi included – expect offspring, assuming with little thought that you’ll be bearing the eldest son’s children in what Silva has expressed as sooner than you think with a small nod and poignant stare. Shivers had run down your spine at the way Illumi’s gaze on you seemed to only grow in intensity at his father’s comment, his cold fingers pressing against the small of your back in a way that made your skin crawl. Besides, the built in conception time, as Illumi so lovingly puts it, makes it more than obvious that he’s fucking you with the intent of getting you pregnant.)

It’s demeaning, the way you’re treated like some toddler, some incompetent idiot with the way Kikyo flutters around you, her shrill voice echoing through the corridors as you cower and obey.

It isn’t that you want to be obedient to a family you’ve come to realize is beyond fucked up, but you’ve also seen Illumi at work. He’s come home to you covered in blood, giving you a small smile as he awkwardly leans down to press a chaste kiss against your lips, his dark eyes staying open the whole time.

You don’t particularly want to be the submissive, obedient future mother of Illumi’s children like everyone in the manor is expecting you to be (with the exception of Killua, whom Illumi desperately wants you to get along with, and he may honestly be the only ray of light within this dark, musty home – at least he somewhat understands how fucked up the situation is, though he’s told you many times that there’s nothing he can do to help you).

But the constant threat of the fact that anyone in the house could kill you with a simple flick of the wrist is not lost on you, and while Illumi genuinely terrifies you for much of the first few months of your captivity, you quickly learn to obey his every word, to live to please him.

He’s really the only ally you have – he’s more forgiving, easier to try and wiggle your way out of a less severe punishment with, especially as you learn to predict his wishes.

He wants you to wear a certain kimono that he thinks looks beautiful on you? You hate the pattern on it and the way the style makes your figure look, but you scramble to slide into the fabric, trying to ignore his ever present stare boring into your naked body.

He wants you to come play with his hair, because he’s been told by his father that it feels nice and he’s seen couples do it? immediately you’re clambering to sit on the chair behind his seated position on the floor, running your fingers through his dark locks while he sits stick straight, silence enveloping the two of you.

He wants you to lay beside him while he rests, recovering his energy from a recent mission? You’re already slipping underneath the sheets, clearing a space for him and letting him wrap his arms around your waist and pull you against him.

(He’s so stiff even when he ‘cuddles’ you – his skin is so cold, his back straight, his grip on you tight enough to make you squirm, and the hot breath against your neck when he tells you that he’s missed you, my dear, my day is less bright without your presence will make you wince.)

Some of his wishes are, admittedly, much more difficult to obey than others, however – when he tells you to lay back and spread your legs while he’s shimmying off his pants, it’s difficult to not fight, to not cry and scream as he pushes into you, his eyebrows twitching together and his pale fists clenching by your head as he slowly begins humping into you.

He isn’t necessarily bad to you per se, though quickly his family picks up on his cluelessness on how to truly treat a spouse, and so after a few comments from Silva about how to properly woo you (maybe she will be less unruly, and you may have more luck producing children this way as well) he actually does take his advice and try to make at least some attempt at romancing you.

He’s telling you robotically delivered compliments, buying you bouquets of roses, even rewarding your good behavior with small knick knacks from your old apartment and life – but it’s not enough; the fear of him is still far greater than the almost charming awkwardness he exudes in moments of intimacy and tenderness will ever be.

You’ll essentially become a submissive, sweet little housewife under Illumi’s care, and even if you hate it, even if you try with everything you have to not be subjected to the future of bearing his children, holding the famous last name of Zoldyck, and being completely subservient to the man who kidnapped you and forcefully began a ‘relationship’ with you, Illumi and the rest of his family have ways of making sure you stay in line.

And before long, you’ll grow to accept your place, to realize that there is absolutely nothing you can do.

PUNISHMENTS:

In all honesty, Illumi rarely gets actually mad at you – he’s much more frequently disappointed when you don’t behave correctly, when you fight him or make some weak attempt at escaping.

He doesn’t get mad, but there is this small sense of pity that he feels when he watches you cry and beg him to not come any closer, to please let me go, I promise I won’t tell anyone what happened! Please, I don’t want to be with you or your sick family!

It hurts, if he’s being honest, but he knows that in order to train you, to mold you into the perfect spouse and future mother of his children, he needs to be patient.

Dogs can’t be expected to follow commands from the very beginning, right?

And so, when he kneels down to where you’re curled up in the corner of your shared room, his dark hair hanging around you like a curtain while his wide eyes never blink and stay situated on you, he’s merely tilting his head and asking in a voice much too serious to be natural, oh but darling, can’t you see you’re already part of this family? Now, dinner is to be ready in thirty minutes. I need to properly prepare you.

He actually has a surprising amount of patience with you – you make him soft (or at least as soft as he can be, though anyone that knows him well can spot the differences in his treatment and air around you), and he doesn’t really want to harm you or scare you.

It’s a necessary evil in his eyes, though if he had his way, he’d train you to the point where you’re willingly looking at him with love.

He’d train you until you’re welcoming him home with a sweet kiss to his cheek after a long job with a toddler clutching at your legs, a baby suckling at your breast and a swollen belly telling him and the rest of the world exactly who you belong to, your lovesick cry of his name when you see him making the smile plastered onto his lips that much more genuine.

You make him feel, something so foreign and strange, and to Illumi this new, small amount of emotion feels downright overwhelming, something so strong and powerful and wonderful. It’s addicting, truly, something that he finds himself actively wanting, a concept he’s never felt before towards anything except bringing back Killua.

And so while he doesn’t particularly enjoy punishing you, it’s worth it to keep those feelings alive, to build up to the point where his fantasies of your domestic future with one another come to fruition.

So really, while he doesn’t get mad at you very often, he won’t hesitate to dole out punishments where he sees fit – it’s all for a greater purpose, he tells you, though you have your doubts.

Besides, there’s something even more disturbing about him punishing you when he isn’t even angry – it’s worse because it all just seems so pointless; maybe if he was yelling you would understand why he’s doing what he’s doing. He’d seem human, maybe, capable of emotion – instead, you get those familiar, dead eyes staring at you, his expression carefully neutral as he tells you that this is for your own sake, my dear, and one day you’ll see that.

When it comes to actually punishing you, Illumi’s aversion to causing you any sort of physical harm prevents him from inflicting a whole varietyof punishments onto you – he doesn’t want to taint your delicate skin, to break a bone, to do any number of things that he’s been told over and over by his family would help.

(Milluki insists that breaking both of your legs would be a good way to prevent any kind of behavior targeted around trying to escape, and while Illumi understands the logic and even agrees with it, the look of your teary eyes staring up at him and your desperate pleads to not hurt you are simply too much.)

(Milluki also suggests, with a crude grin and a gulp, that perhaps letting him try a hand at getting you to cooperate would be helpful – besides, he’ll add with a smarmy smile and his tongue flicking out over his lips, a Zoldyck heir is a Zoldyck heir, doesn’t matter who knocked her up, right? That night, Milluki ended up with the broken bone rather than you.)

He isn’t sure why he’s so incapable of hurting you considering his profession, but he just can’t – and so, he finds other methods.

Namely, your mental state is completely fair game; he’s training you after all, and when the basement of the Zoldyck mansion is just so expansive, so cold and wet and so very dark, how can he not use that to his advantage?

Your eyes are casted downwards, your voice soft and unsure as you ask if you can see my family again? Kikyo mentioned that it’s December, and there’s an important birthday in the family this month that I’d like to celebrate with them…

Illumi had been cuddling you (or, at least holding you in his arms while he lay on his side, completely frozen and inhaling the scent of your hair again and again while you uncomfortably squirmed around), but the moment those words tumble from your lips, he’s blinking pensively, pondering your statement.

I don’t know of any birthdays in the family this month.

When you try again, telling him that it’s your family you’re talking about, the one you were raised in and that you love, immediately he’s cutting you off.

My dear, you must be mistaken. The nearest birthday is Grandfather’s, and that isn’t for another month.

His voice is firmer this time, as if he’s trying to tell you something, but some part of you refuses to silently accept his blatant dismissal of your request.

Illumi you don’t understand, it’s –

his grip is tightening even more, practically suffocating you as his nails dig into your exposed arms, his voice somewhere between a hiss and a scold.

No, my love, you don’t understand. Don’t speak of them. They are no longer your family – you are a Zoldyck now, and you’ll forget all of those past imposters. You will not, under any circumstances, be allowed to see them again. Now, come with me.

And it’s not like you have much of a choice – as he picks you up and brings you down the stairs, endless winding hallways that steadily grow colder and colder the deeper you head, you’re flailing, apologizing profusely, anything to not have to spend another few nights in the basement.

And while Illumi doesn’t enjoy the tears that stream down your cheeks, he stays strong and ties you to the chains connected to the walls – loose enough that you can be seated on the ground, but tight enough to restrict any movement.

Once you’re stationary, he stands before you and stares, the light from the door behind him illuminating his figure.

I expect you to tell me who your real family is when I return.

And with that, he’s walking out the room and slamming the door shut behind him, leaving you shrouded in darkness, with nothing but the sound of your own breathing and heartbeat to entertain you.

He generally leaves you down there for three days, give or take – enough to have you dehydrated, your stomach growling and rumbling painfully at the lack of food, cold seeping into your bones and leaving you shivering and shaking, all the while fear envelopes you because there’s something here with you, you just know it.

The sounds coming from the corner of the room are too difficult to ignore, though you have no idea what it could be. You presume it’s some sort of creature, designed to kill you if Illumi so desires, the scuttling noise making fear creep up your spine every time you hear it. The sounds are ryhtmic, predictable, always going off in roughly thirty minute intervals, leading you to believe the creature is smart, or at least trained to be so.

It’s terrifying and your mind will conjure up images of terrifying, grotesque beasts in its bored and fearful state, but in reality the monster in question is Illumi himself – he grows so dependent on you that he can’t be away from you for more than about a day, so he treats himself to hiding in the shadows and simply watching you.

You’re very pretty, even when you’re crying and covered in dirt and covered in your own piss, and it’s in those moments that Illumi truly realizes how deeply his feelings for you run, how badly he wants you to be his everything. He just can’t stop looking at you, those dark eyes raking over your figure over and over and over, moving his position roughly every thirty minutes to get a new angle of you.

(Though, it’s not like he needs to see you to remember what you look like from this angle, he’s stalked you so thoroughly and so heavily that he could draw your face in his sleep with pinpoint accuracy, your features metaphorically carved behind his eyelids so that he’ll always see you you you when he blinks.)

And when he eventually opens the door once more, light cracking into the room and making you violently blink, he’s asking if you’ve learned your lesson yet, if you’re finally understanding who your real family is, and immediately you’re practically yelling that yes, I understand! I’m a Zoldyck, the Zoldycks are my real family! I love them and I love you, Illumi, because I’m your wife and that’s all I’ve ever wanted to be!

(If you were in a better state of mind you’d have the energy to be ashamed of yourself, but you’re so desperate to get out of this cellar and into the warmth, to drink something and eat something and be away from the thing trapped in there with you that you just don’t care.)

He nods, satisfied, and opens the locks, only to blink in surprise when you wobbly embrace him, sobbing into his chest and clutching onto his clothes because even though he’s unnaturally cold, he’s still warmer than the hell you’ve been in for the last three days.

And while he’s not the best at physical affection, he’ll wrap his arms around you and pull you tighter, crushing you against his hard chest whispering in your ear that he’s so glad you’ve finally accepted your place.

OVERALL DANGER:

9/10

The danger that lies with being Illumi’s darling is honestly just the fact that once he chooses you, there is absolutely no chance of escaping him.

He’s a trained assassin with connections everywhere; outside of death itself, there’s no way for you to get away from him, no matter how hard you try or who you manage to recruit into aiding you.

(And even if you were to somehow manage to kill yourself, Illumi will keep your dead body by his side – holding it at night while he sleeps, propping you in a chair across from him while he eats and carries on a one sided conversation about work that day, even going so far as to fuck your cold, lifeless body just to feel you.)

He’s lived his whole life feeling nothing at all, and the second that you inspire any bit of emotion within him, his whole perspective seems to alter just slightly, something warm and strange and good blooming in his chest. It’s something completely foreign, but the longer it goes on the more he decides the likes it, growing used to the feeling and craving more of it, finding himself yearning – yes, yearning – to feel it once more when he’s been away from you for long periods of time.

Once he realizes that the common cause of this feeling is you, Illumi is deciding that you’re the one he’ll be adding to the Zoldyck family as his partner, his spouse, his lover.

You’ll be the one to bear his children and continue on the name, all while he gets to enjoy the strange warmth in his chest, the odd protectiveness that forces him to keep you locked up, safe from the outside world, the strange urge he feels to reach out and touch you, to see you smile, to feel your lips against his own.

And so while he won’t ever directly physically harm you, your mental state will be destroyed, and you’ll be in constant fear that someday he’ll decide you aren’t worth the trouble, that once he impregnates you and you give him a few heirs, he’ll kill you off effortlessly.

These fears will never, ever see fruition of course, but the trouble with Illumi is that you just never know.

He’s skilled in the art of killing, but his skills in lying are quite formidable as well – you can never truly tell when he’s being honest with you, and while he’s never fully lied to you (only misrepresented facts and led you to believe something that may not be entirely true), you’ll live in a constant state of unease because you’re so, so very aware that he could kill you with a mere flick of his wrist if he so desired, and what’s stopping him? He claims to be in love, but in what world is this love?

And you, lucky lucky you, get the lovely package deal of not only him, but his fucked up family as well – so good luck, and really, just let him mold you into the perfect, obedient little wife he wants you to be.

You’ll be much, much happier in the end.