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kiwanopie · 2 months

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A Lucky Find.

Pure luck, isn’t it? (Geto Suguru x fem!sorcerer!Reader)

cw: yandere if you squint. mention of misogyny and inappropriate work place relationships, graphic descriptions of curses and body horror, death by mutilation involving a curse (Not you), mention of religion, only specifics about reader is that she’s visibly very attractive and may have long hair (no descriptors though, it could be a lace) Suguru is out of his mind. You will not be called a monkey in this one.

wc: 3.9k

You’re not a very talkative assistant.

Granted sometimes you’re inclined to wonder if talking would’ve made so much of a difference to the position you’ve been put in, but you’ve never been a particularly choosy assistant either. You’re great at handling quick business, the calls your boss can’t be bothered to take - studious in your evening planning and you can quick work a coffee run like nobody's business. — You don’t complain about the thin heels they put you in, or the pencil skirts. Mired businessmen with filthy smirks and wondering eyes, or the routine baby talk you get from your degenerate boss. You don’t blink an eye at it. - You sit when you’re told to sit and bark when Mr. Minoru decides to hold that pretty little bone over your head.

“You could use a bonus, huh?”

Today it’s a back rub.

You’re silent as your nimble fingers start to press little groves in his upper back, impassive when he groans. Mr. Minoru, your boss, is a very rich man. He’s the successor of a retired tycoon who was once the successor of another and so forth. He’s an amalgamation of power and fortune and a small legion of nepotism babies that regularly walk in through those mahogany doors just ahead of his desk. An investor, you think. Most conversations he has are about money and the best way to double it; fewer are the ones where he’s actually taking the time out of his schedule to distribute it.

It’s all elite talk. Big men following big men following a perv who believes he’s god. Long outstretched legs that extend as he relaxes himself in his seat and hopes that the movement is enough to encourage you to start on his shoulders.

You like to think you got this job out of pure luck. Met the right man at the right time and stumbled over the deal of a lifetime all for the small cost of a little bit of your dignity. — Not like it was much of a trade from your part time job busing tables at that high-end restaurant. Being yelled at by bratty celebrities at a fraction of the price and coming home smelling reminiscent of a meat locker. Now you’re standing on the top floor of a penthouse suite. Smelling of expensive perfume that your boss totally didn’t break worker/boss relation code for and looking down at the entirety of Tokyo from its bay windows.

Pure luck.

The creature hooked to the upper side of his shoulder unfastens its teeth with a firm graze of your fingers. The steam it emits as it fizzles away is sour.

Mr. Minoru has a pension for starting fights with the wrong people, it seems. With bitter people - scornful people. People who hate him and can’t do anything about it, other than wish him harm or hex him in some way. — Worst are the people who don’t hate him, who envy him. Step into his office with painted smiles and clenched teeth. Who curse his name the moment they leave and leave you to deal with these little “bugs.”

Your nose twitches as its rotten smell encombers. For a moment your pretty face is twisted up in a scowl.

The massages started from an offhand graze of your fingers during a dinner at your old job. Pretty little waitress bending over him in that little work dress and running your finger down his felted coat. You apologize for your familiarity, someone must’ve spilled something on his jacket. ~ But the weight on his back is gone from just that little touch and now he’s offering you a job. You don’t regularly make a habit of helping those you’ve already deemed “afflicted.” But the fucker making goo trails on his back at the time was just disgusting enough to hinder your train of thought, and there’s no way you could’ve gone through your shift without reviling every time you passed his table.

So, now you’re his assistant - and today it’s just a back rub. Thankfully not a request to play with his hair and try not to cringe at the way he shutters from it. A subtle pat on the cheek for his good luck kiss, or a request to sit on his lap while he tells you a story he doesn’t care if you’re listening to. Because you’re quiet.

His not talkative, non-fussy, no complaints assistant.

Like always he fills the empty air in place of your silence. “Ah. By the way, princess. We’ve got a guest coming around after lunch. A real traditional fella. So, we’ll need to be on our best behavior,”

“Apparently he’s got some sort of business opportunity for me in exchange for a few investments,” He sighs when your fingers dip a little under his collar. “Says that in his big fuckin’ haori. Probably cost a few thousand bucks,”

Mr. Minoru shifts his shoulders under your firm touches. “To be completely honest, I don’t really know about it aside from the gag of seeing him in person again. Guy has this weird energy about himself that gives me the creeps. — Says he’s avant-garde. — I just think he’s a weird fuckin’ guy.”

“But,” The exhale he lets out is tempered and whisky tinted, clears out the fresh space in his chest that usually frees up when you’ve got your hands on him. “My old man likes ‘em. Says he’d be good for my health if I kept him around. At the very least build some sorta relationship with him.”

“Too bad my health’s in tip-top shape! Eh, doll-baby?” Minoru twists his head to flash you an expensive smile. Faintly defined cheekbones turning rosy when you return it like you know you’re supposed to. “Got my little guru at my side!”

And your simper, although gentle, is forced. Distantly you wonder if you’re the reason these bugs have become so habitual.

——-

This man is very ill.

Though he walks in with his head held high and a particular spring in his step, your diagnosis is that he must be terminal. He must be diseased and irremediable. In a constant state of agony and so stricken with unwellness that he can’t even think straight. You’ve seen your fair share of “bugs” and rabid disfigured animals that grow out of their hosts like fungus. Some that trail behind like lost children with broken crackling legs - a stench that only accompanies the open wounds whose maggots reach out so helplessly. Disturbing things. For all of it you’ve seen, you’re lucky to say that those cases are few and far in between.

But this,

It has many hands and many faces.

Each accompanied by its own set of teeth. Curling lips that stutter as they rise, etched in lipstick and gum; you find mint leaves hidden in the valley of its tongue, coiling as it softly sings. Watching from afar as it hobbles on its haunches like a drunken man, or of fawn newly grazed. It is steady - and constantly moving. It buzzes like a million bees and yet the man standing next to it is seemingly unaffected.

And so are you.

Your gentility becomes you as you politely bow for the man who you’ve so gracefully led to Mr. Minoru’s office. A practiced curtsy is usually enough to get your usual guests commenting under their nose at your bosses taste in assistant’s, but this man is quiet as he walks past you. So above your head that it almost feels like he doesn’t even know you exist. And that feeling is… off putting to say the least.

You close the door behind him as your boss starts on introductions.

“Ah, so you’ve met my beautiful assistant!” He reaches out his hand. “Minoru. Nice to meet you.”

The genuinity in the man’s smile fastens his eyes into slits as he steps forward to return the shake. “Geto, likewise.”

“Geto, huh? I heard the old man sent you for an investment proposition. My guess is it’s something… traditional?” Minoru gestures toward his garbs.

He’s somewhat clinical in his attempt to look lighthearted, but the sigh he blows out feels trusting. “So this isn’t selling “contemporary” huh?”

Minoru laughs and the thing beside him whimpers.

Your fingers twitch against your work skirt.

You’re a distant shadow lingering behind the conversing men as you step to your post on the far side of the office wall, heels clicking quietly when you bend to fix yourself adjacent to Mr. Minoru’s desk. — You’re not expected to listen much to the conversation, or even understand the matters on which they talk about. Just straighten your back when your boss snaps his fingers and follow obediently when he coos an order.

But even if that weren’t the case, you’d say it’d be hard to pay any attention to anything other than whatever the fuck that is hunched beside the man standing just a few feet away. Singing quietly under its breath and repeating the tune like a prayer. Fearful, shaken, pleaful, dread inducing; overlapping in its many mouths. Your fingernails quietly scrape against each other in your attempt to remain neutral but from a keen eye you’re jarred. Disquietingly moving your eyes from the two men still talking adjacent from you and then it again.

It’s looking at you.

You force down a swallow when Minoru calls your name.

“Quiet thing, isn’t she?” Your boss comments amidst the conversation as you approach them. “Could almost forget she’s here if it weren’t for the eyecandy,”

You smile at him like he’s flattering you but it’s muscle memory. “Sir?”

“Gather up those papers from your desk over there, sweetpea. And hand it to the nice man.”

You almost don’t even wanna turn your back on it.

But against your own anxieties you do as you're told. Even with your nerves frayed as they are. You keep your posture as you hastily skirt to your desk and back across the room again. Nimble, slightly shaken fingers lowering to place it in Geto-san’s hand but he doesn’t acknowledge you even when you smile. Vacant eyes. Bored of you already. —- You don’t know if you should feel more offended or alarmed. But in your curtsy before backing away you decide to split the difference and go for disturbed.

Avant-garde. This guy just gives you the fuckin’ creeps.

He works in health, apparently. From what you’ve gathered in the continuing conversation, he’s a spiritual man who offers health by spiritual means. It’s not a very groundbreaking admission, especially from a man in traditional garb, but he assures that his practices have long surpassed ground theory and have been proven to guarantee actual results. From refractory diseases, mental illness, visible injury; his methods could completely eradicate the need for traditional medicine and take the health industry by storm.

But money is a long factor, longer in the doubtful and non-spiritual. “Non-worthy.” It sounds pointed the way he slips that in, but your red flags aren’t shared with your less than convinced boss.

“Spiritual healing sounds great and all, Geto buddy. But you’re directing services to a pretty biased market.” Minoru crosses one of his legs over the other from his perched position against his desk. “Even with the facts, the money’s in objectivity. You’d get more bang for your buck just saying any Yamada worth his salt can walk in and get rid a’ his sniffles for the right price. - Religion ‘ll just turn people off.”

Geto smiles patiently. “Ah, Minoru-san, we’re not religion based. Religion promotes powerlessness. Our services come from practical people.”

You watch as the creature messily swivels on its crooked legs when he invades its space by leaning back a little. “But to insert certain biases kind of sweetens the deal, doesn’t it? People like things that make them feel special. Even the most useless people should wanna prove themselves in some way, right?”

What a crooked way of thinking.

At your quiet displeasure the mass behind Geto wheezes painfully, wincing when you lock eyes with it. Its song pitches and warbles, chops a little like it’s weeping; but even in its effort to resume its discontent is palpable.

You could almost feel acknowledged by it. By its wandering eyes and its tightened misshapen shoulders. Almost as off put as you are from its spot in the middle of the room. The more you look at it, the more it starts to evoke pity. Even in its unsightliness, it looks misplaced and afraid. - Its song breaks like a cry for mercy and the closer you look at it the more recognizable its purpose becomes.

There are knots in its balmy skin so engorged they bleed and tear. Fabric mincing over fictional scabbing and prayer beads hanging out of its gashes. Every twitch it makes reverberates ricey out of rhythm beats akin to maracas and its song, as out of key as it is, is reverential. Powerlessness. Anodyne through faith. You barely find yourself pitying the afflictions of affected people but in the context of this conversation - it’s watering eyes; you feel empathetic toward this thing and by extension Geto-san.

You assume something awful must’ve started that way of thinking.

Should you even stick your neck out for this guy? You’ve dealt with bigger, more violent ones in any case. But this creature seems peaceful. Following faithfully on its hosts haunches as it waits patiently beside him. You’ll have to be fast and unflashy about it, hopefully the stench from that thing won’t make you hurl on impulse. But if not out of mercy, it would be nice to have it out of your line of vision.

Your eyes cross it again. It’s many eyes well with anguish. You decide that at your next opportunity you’ll get rid of it promptly.

As luck would have it Mr. Minoru’s personal phone rings.

He’s quick in his apologies as he fishes it out of his pocket. Passing a smile to Geto as he quickly bows and makes the few long strides it takes to step out of the door and into the hallway, and a few short snaps in your direction as he points you to the concessionaires reserved for his clients near the door.

You’re practiced as you dip for the little fridge on your left, carefully sliding out a glassed bottle of water from the door and a plastic bag of sliced apples.

“Would you like a snack while you wait, Geto-san?”

He ignores you.

Through a quietly exasperated sigh does he slide his phone out of his hakama and pointedly decide not to acknowledge your awkward stance at the far end of the room. — You know he ignores you because the silence that otherwise permeates the spaciousness of your boss's suite is momentarily disrupted by the sound of your voice bouncing off the walls; followed again by that frigid silence.

This is the guy you’re trying to help.

Even so, your embarrassment is brushed aside in favor of making your way to the small coffee table between him and the other leather seat parallel to his. Thin pencil skirt riding a little as you take wide steps to the little spot that separates him from the empty seat - and you from the thin sliver of carpet standing between he and the now quivering mass.

You bend to place the treats gingerly beside him.

And when you rise you reach for it.

There are practiced fingers circling around your wrist before you can even touch it.

Your fear is potent enough to turn its broken hums into racking sobs as you freeze in his sudden grip. Firmly clasped onto you as he raises your arm over your head and forces you to jolt back with a stuttered breath. Faint greyed markings on the palm of your hand fade but they’re caught under his watchful eye, and through your shock you watch his expression switch.

From confusion, to intrigue, to pure excitement.

Your shock teeters on horror as his pupils dilate. “Now, just what were those pretty fingers planning on doing?”

He seems to revel at the sheer bewilderment that colors in your pretty face from where you nervously stare up at him. Doe eyes lit up by headlights, and the radiative heat of suddenly being this close to his predatory gaze. You stammer. “Wh-? Y-You know it’s-“

“Brought it with me, didn’t I?” He speaks lowly as he circles his thumb over your wrist. “Can’t say I don’t appreciate your concern though, sweetheart.”

You shrink. The absurdity of intentionally carrying a burden like this is as mind boggling as it is chilling. Dread inducing, even. With the kind of bad juju that thing emits there’s no other reason to purposefully let it fester beside you than for motives deeply depraved. Deeply disturbed. The way the air around him murkens and electrifies, and a glint in his eye that makes you feel like prey. — He’s looking at you like you’re dinner right now. And something about that feels trillions of times more frightening than any typical rubbernecking.

After being treated like a ghost by this man this whole time. Now he’s looking at you like you’re a slab of meat spread out for him. Succulent and tenderized, pliant under his fingers. Your soft eyes are rigid with fear as his other hand reaches for you blithely, larger fingers dipping in your loose hair and scooping it gently forward. You glance at it from the corner of your eye.

Smoke curls around his palm.

You suppress with a quiet intake of breath.

Geto-san’s cheeks pinken as he gleefully smiles, emboldened by a genuine tinge of ardor. You do your best not to flinch but it’s futile, his chilled fingers consolingly caress your face as he tuts; and gazes at you like he’s committing you to memory.

“Be patient for me, yeah? I’ll be done in a minute.”

You can’t even begin to guess what that means.

But before you can inquire he’s shushing you with a finger up to his lips. Playfully shooing you away as Mr. Minoru’s footsteps patter closer, and you clumsily re-fit yourself into your professional mask.

“Sorry ‘bout that, pal. Forgot about another meeting I was supposed to attend a little earlier,” He pockets his phone. “No one’s fault.”

He leans against the cliff of his desk where Geto-san’s planted himself again. Minoru glances at the unopened bag of apple slices. “Ah, _____, baby. You were supposed to hand him the good stuff.”

“I’m so sorry, sir.”

“No worries.” Geto laughs airily. “How could anything look nearly as appetizing when you’ve got an assistant like that walking around?”

Your ears burn as Mr. Minoru snorts in kind. “Yeah, fair enough,”

He rolls up his sleeves. “A’right, princess. How bout you hop on over to my lounge and break open the good brandy for my guest and I. Bring us the crystal set. Can you do that?”

—-

The decanter in your hand falls with a dull thump.

There’s no… logical explanation for what you’re looking at right now — Who you’re looking at right now. In any other circumstance deep purples would be expected. Blotched boysenberries and flossy reds, dotted with strained blues. You’d expect tearing - bleeding, audible ginger snaps of tendons and extended bone. A scream even, no matter how silent; all are logically expected. Death is logically expected.

But seeing your boss stretched out like leather, not a full five minutes after leaving him alone with this man, is not.

Your eyes frantically skirt over your boss's heaving corpse from your exposed position at his closing entrance. Watching in repulsed terror as his skin tears and bruises, familiar prayer beads falling out of his flesh like stuffing. - His eyes are rolled agonizingly into the back of his head, mouth opened in a scream. His blood sizzles against the maple of his desk and you can do little but stare in horror.

You flinch as the mainline on his desk starts to go off but you’re no sooner cringing at the way his arm breaks just to reach for it. Bloody fingers pushing the receiver, and cheeks tearing just to respond.

His unchanged voice somehow makes it all the more horrifying. “Hi, Souza. Thanks for getting back to me,”

“Yeah, do me a favor,” You back into the door. “Route about ten million to Geto-san’s organization under investment. And be a dear and sign the invoice for me, would ya?”

You’re gonna be sick.

“So, you’re out of a job now, huh?” You nearly yelp.

Geto-san’s standing just over you. “I’ve got a pretty similar position opened up,” He says casually. “‘Wanna work for me?”

You can barely push out a word. Which, kind man that he is, helps you out by deciding for you. “Ah, Great! I can break you in on Sunday. Here’s my card.”

He smiles kindly as you hesitantly pluck the laminated card from his fingers. Looking at you under mirthful eyes that chill more than they comfort.

“If you’re worried about pay, I can give you double of whatever that monkey gave you. Maybe a little extra if you’re as good as he says you are.”

But before you can recoil at the thought of being stuck under the same kind of boss, with the extra caveat of being a psychopath; he adds with a hint of challenge. “That is, if you can get rid of our friend for us.”

You follow his glance to the creature wearing your boss like a hand puppet.

Do you even have a choice?

Geto-san watches with a keen eye as you warily approach the blinking, bleeding corpse behind your late boss’s desk. Heels clicking slowly against his wooden floors, skin prickling at the thought of even getting close to this thing let alone touch it. There’s a smell that you notice as you move closer. A rotten, discrepant smell that pushes as much as it pulls. Aging, airless skin, barreling toward cell death; only marginally slowed by the alkaline smell of embalming fluid. Too old. Too sour.

But there’s something about it that almost — Hypnotizes. Evokes a kind of nostalgia that almost completely disarms you. Church pews and goatskin, leather hardbacks under frilly gloves; and those damn prayer beads. You can almost hear your grandmother’s voice. The minty sweet taste of stale candies tinted by the perfume in her purse. ~ Watching worship but not understanding it. A contact high of conviction. Your boss’s blood spills and it means something sacred, something reverent. And the closer you get, the more that sacrifice feels for the better.

You flicker a glance in Geto-san’s direction. This guy had this shit on standby?

It’s clammy when your fingers finally graze its skin. Sweaty and twitching, like every touch is a pinched nerve; like every stroke stimulates. There’s movement under the first layer, a hissing under the second. It’s mania seeps off of it in droves and the more you linger on it, the more your stomach twists.

You draw back your hand and rub over the difference in texture.

The room is temporarily endowed with smoke at the snap of your fingers.

They’re both gone when the vapor quickly dissipates, blood formerly staining expensive maple now replaced with its originally polished shine. As well as his chair, his area rug, and any other evidence that could connote what truly horrific fate the man in question had suffered in this very room.

Which is enough to send Geto-san into an ecstatic flurry of applause. “H-Holy shit. Where have you been all my life?”

He’s more focused on the way the weight in your lips shift rather than that being because of a frown. Regardless, you’re still a picture despite it. “You’re gonna fit nicely. — My address is on the card. Come by nine? I’ll have breakfast ready by then.”

He turns with a relaxed lilt toward the exit. “You and I are gonna have a lot of fun.”

The door clicks as the lock disengages.

“Don’t make me come looking for you.”

reblogs are appreciated <3

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luffysscraps · 3 months

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Thinking about dog! Hybrid Luffy🔞

Cw; Fem reader. Pet play. Non-con/Dub-con. Breeding kink. Established relationship.

-He leaves holes everywhere in your yard. Literally the moment you step out into your back yard you almost create a sinkhole due to his digging habits. And he’ll just stare at you with a smile and lick you all over.

-He’s very energetic, running up and down through the house, dashing around every chance he gets and begging you to play with him. “Y/N! Play with me! Throw ball! Throw the ball! Please! Play! Play! Play!” Luffy begs his black tail wagging as he runs in a circle around you.

-He can speak a little, but nothing complex. He says stuff like “let’s go outside!” “I’m hungry!” “Can I sleep on the bed?” “Pets please!” “Walk! Walk!” Despite his simple way of speaking he understands everything you say, but takes a while for it all to process. But he doesn’t get the concept of math at all, numbers don’t make sense to him so don’t even try to teach him it.

-“Luffy!” “ Hi Hi! Y/n!! Good morning! Wanna play? Wanna eat?! I’m hungry! Let’s play! No let’s eat! Can we do both?! Hi hi!” He appears the second you call him babbling on and once you call his attention. You mutter the syllable ‘L’ And all you hear is the jingling of his collar. He’s just so happy you called him! He thought he’d just be squeezing his chew toy all day without you. (Which he squeaks on all day regardless)

-Eats all the meat in the house. You literally can’t stock pile meat and have to buy meat literally two portions at a time. The butchers stare at you funny when you only buy three chicken legs at a time. Or one small tiny portion of beef to feed three. And you come here like every day? Little do they know you have a menace in your home who will eat every scrap of meat you have with no shame. You usually only eat one serving while Luffy eats two plus snacks and extra meals when he begs. And he’s in healthy shape due to his energetic nature.

-"LUFFY NO!" is one of your most used phrases whenever you bring him outside with you. He’s very protective of you and any other male hybrid in around you. He’s quick to jump into fights without any warning signs. He’s happy and docile one minute and then he just pounces on whatever male hybrids come close to you. A crocodile, a bear, a flamingo, he was even crazy enough to fight a dragon?!?

- As aggressive as he is, he’s also super friendly?! Like once hybrids clarify they’re not after you he’s trying to play with them after just giving them a black eye??? And somehow it always ends up working???

-He loves to explore and adventure. He’ll just get up, give you a kiss goodbye and run off for days at a time. He has so many friends with other people and hybrids that you’ve never met or heard before. Like you’re sure half of the people he’s mentioned don’t even live in this area. Where the hell did he go? Well he always returns home safe so there’s nothing to worry about. Plus he’s always so excited to see you when he gets back. “Y/N!! I missed you! I had so much fun! But I missed you a lot! “

-Call him a good boy and he’ll melt. His ears stand up and his tail starts wagging. “Really?! I’m your good boy!” He really likes that nickname.

-Oh and if you don’t like being active I’m sorry but Luffy is not the hybrid for you. He’ll literally drag you out with him, and force you to play with him. Trying to do homework? Mf eats it. Trying to play a video game or watch tv? He unplugs it. Trying to simply rest? No you’re not because he wants to play and he’s a selfish bastard. “Let’s play now Y/N!” He says with those puppy dog eyes as he unplugged the TV for the one hundredth time.

-Brings and makes you gifts all the time! They’re not the usual expensive gifts you expect from a partner. He gifts you, your sock he stole from you like a month ago, Old bones from meat he already ate and gnawed on, Dead rats he killed. And then he also likes to draw and write, he draws pictures of you and him with hearts everywhere. Your fridge is filled with them. And he writes you love letters, they’re simple and short but very sweet.

‘Y/N I love you. You pet me on my head. You play with me. You’re pretty and kind. My heart goes fast when I’m with you. -Love Luffy’

-Now when he’s in heat he turns into a horny demon. “Sex! Sex! Sex! Sex!” He chants bouncing around ripping his clothes to shreds and tackling you to the ground, dry humping your body as you just got home from your nine hour shift.

-You’ll know he’s in heat because now he’s walking around the house butt ass naked, balls out with a sweet and devious smile on his face. Don’t try to make him wear his clothes because he’s not going to AT ALL. He’ll rip them to pieces right in front of you and simply say. “Too hot!”

-Steals ALL of your panties. Literally keeps a heap of them in his bed. And has no shame in it, licking them while you’re watching him. His bed sheets have to be washed daily when he ruts because he cums gallons and will jerk off all day long.

-He just stared at you with lidded eyes. “Please Y/N… sex…” He whines out licking your earlobe. He tries his best to hold back, he really does but his urges take over after holding out for so long. He needs to be inside of you and now.

- And when you bend over it’s practically over. That’s you basically inviting him to mount you and stick his hard on inside! One minute you’re bending down to pick up a book you dropped, the next you’re on the ground, face first with Luffy’s large meaty hard cock inside of your cunt.

-He never really asks but he can smell your hormones. You want it too. Plus your moans are enough to tell him you do! Or are those his moans? He can’t tell at this point, he’s so horny and he needs to release.

-You honestly don’t mind his heat, he’s surprisingly gentle and will stop if you ask him too. But the only thing you have to do is always be on the pill- Luffy has no idea what condoms are and when you tried to put one on him he ripped it off in seconds. “Feels weird. No way!” He says with a smile before pounding into your pussy raw. And because he’s in heat, his number one goal is to get you pregnant.

-So every time you guys fuck and the next day your stomach isn’t big and round with his kids he gets mad. Just staring at you and your stomach. “What’s wrong?! Get pregnant already!” He whines with frustration. Oh well if you didn’t get pregnant the last time, he’ll make sure you do now, every last bit of his cum is going in your pussy. He doesn’t let a drop escape it when he finally releases into you.

-Yeah your hybrid boyfriend is pretty hard to handle, but would you settle for anyone else? Not a chance. <3

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yache-berries · 9 months

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Average Buddy Holly Enjoyers

#wHAT?!!?!? WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT I STILL CAN'T BELIEVE IT.#FINDING OUT AT 11 PM LAST NIGHT THAT A SILLY SHIP I LIKED FROM 2019 BECAME CANON???#no joke i was steeling myself for no ineffable bureaucracy moments at all this season and i made peace with that #aND??? W H A T ?!?!?!? NOT ONLY INTERACTIONS. S O F T INTERACTIONS. FALLING IN LOVE. HEALTHY COMMUNICATION AND UNDERSTANDING.#cRYING SOOOO HARD GOOD FOR THEM GOOD FOR THEM.#GAY PEOPLE ARE WINNING!!!!!!! despite the other thing that happened in ep6 😔🙏#also i too am a buddy holly enjoyer they have good tastes #maybe beez and gabe would like the.... animals too 🙏#ALSO. uhhhhh the everly brothers!!! and lesley gore!!! and georgie fame!!!#good omens #good omens 2 #good omens spoilers #good omens 2 spoilers #beelzebub #gabriel #archangel gabriel #gabriel x beelzebub #ineffable bureaucracy #flygon used sketch #y e s i was a bureaucracy truther since 2019 you can find some ancient art both here and on my main insta 😔🙏 goooood dynamic

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mysteria157 · 1 month

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Chapter One

Pairing: Black Fem!Reader x Hitman Toji Fushiguro

CW: Profanity, Hints of Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Comfort

Word Count: Don't worry about it.

Summary:

“I’m only going to say this one more time, Toji. I don’t do situationships. I don’t do friends with benefits or the occasional hookup. You want more? I want you to try. Earn me.”

His hands are so bloody, that if you ever knew the source, you would'nt want someone like him to try. He shouldn't be here, taking up so much of your time, asking for more. But he's selfish.

-or; Toji, a notorious hitman, moves to America for more money and a better life for his son. He didnt expect to sleep with you, let alone want more. When his dangerous life catches up to him, he takes on one final lucrative hit, but realizes this target has unseen connections hitting closer to home. Now he must navigate a perilous job while desperately keeping his criminal double life hidden from you.

Authors Notes: Hello! I hope you all enjoy this first chapter. As stated in the masterlist, this fic is a continuation from Maneater, so reading that will definitely help set the tone for this fic. I plan to dig deep with this story and really find my voice writing a different genre.

As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated! Enjoy and thank you for your support!

Dividers: @royallaesthetics @eloquentmoon | Header: created by myself (fanart from Pinterest)

**Do not plagiarize any of my works or translate without my permission!**

…women like you drown oceans -Rupi Kaur

*** You ***

Pop!

The sharp sound of gum expanding and then exploding causes you to flinch, your eyeliner pen frozen just above your lid. Through the mirror’s reflection, you shoot a glare at the open closet door, where your cousin rummages through your clothes.

Pop!

She’s in her own little world. If this were any other circumstance, she would have been scolded for her habit of popping gum—a top offender on the list of annoying behaviors ingrained in both of you since childhood. You detest the sound, and if you were closer, you would have punched her in the stomach by now.

You and your cousin typically get along well, but she enjoys testing your limits to coax you out of your shell. The only way to shut her up is by letting her tire herself out during her talkative rampages or swinging at her when you’ve had enough.

Every day with her is a gamble of which will come first.

Your eyeliner is still hovering by your upper lid, suspended in place as you watch another sundress get haphazardly thrown against the closet wall instead of being put back on a hanger where it fucking belongs.

You can’t bother with trying to get violent with her, you’re way too preoccupied with other thoughts. More incessant thoughts like how to play it cool on a date. It’s not that hard, right? Be yourself, get a gauge of the man trying to impress you, entertain a few hours of your day and then back home to relax.

Easy.

If it were anyone else but Toji, then it would be easy.

You had buried yourself in double shifts and extended hours in the lab just to distract yourself from today. Anything to keep you busy and keep your mind off the fact that someone you are sort of interested in…wants to see you. And he reminds you every day when you look down at your phone.

Despite his admission of being a lazy texter, Toji is surprisingly consistent. But the messages take on a blunt form wrapped around a small pearl of care.

Toji: Eat breakfast. What good are you in a hospital if you pass out?

Toji: Stop taking on more shifts, its stupid. Go home and rest.

Toji: You better not be tired this weekend.

No matter how hard you try to force your face to stay immobile, each text makes your lips twitch into a small smile. He masks his words in harsh deliveries, but the intention is obvious. The satisfying jolt that shoots up your spine when your phone buzzes with a notification from him should be embarrassing. It should be.

But you love it.

It’s absurd, really. Only two weeks have passed since you met him, hardly enough time to form any meaningful connection. Yet, that night at your uncle’s was unexpectedly delightful. Toji was, against your better judgment, charming and attentive, almost to the point of clinginess. And, undeniably, he’s attractive. And a fucking fantastic lay.

So, despite your instinct to ignore a man and the way they flaunt their feathers for your attention, you want Toji to bring that same energy as last time.

You lean your elbows back into the shiny wood of your vanity, focusing your attention on your eye as you lower the eyeliner to your skin.

Pop!

The sound makes you jump, disrupting your focus and smearing the eyeliner across your temple.

“Rene!” you bark, slamming your eyeliner down on the vanity top with a force that makes your hand sting, and you yank a drawer open in search of a makeup wipe. “Stop popping your gum before I come over there and beat the shit out of you.” As you wipe off the smudged makeup, you catch the reflection of your cousin emerging from your closet.

She embodies a beauty that’s almost blinding, matched only by her lively personality. So naturally, heads turn when she enters a room, her chocolate skin seemingly radiant wherever she goes. With her thick, kinky hair always in a protective style and her unshakeable confidence in her intelligence and appearance, Rene caught Shiu’s attention immediately, and he’s been captivated ever since.

She is one of very few in your family who truly gets you, who sees the world with clarity and understands its nuances and how to navigate through it without compromising her ideals. Since childhood, you’ve stuck to each other like glue. She understands you and your guarded demeanor, you understand her and her loud personality. She’s one of your best friends.

But at this moment, as she stands before you in booty shorts and a tank top that accentuates her curves, her twist out cascading from a pineapple updo, and an outfit draped over one arm, she is pissing you off as she pops her gum againwith a cheeky expression.

“I like your makeup.” A sly grin stretches on her face, enhancing her soft features. You ignore her, feeling your defenses rise as she effortlessly peels back your layers. The liquid eyeliner glides against the smooth brown of your skin, forming a subtle cat-eye as you pretend not to notice her approaching you from behind.

She gracefully settles onto your vanity top, ignoring your lipstick casing that teeters over and rolls across the shiny surface. You shoot her another glare before moving to your other eye. “You should put on some mascara too. When you give him head later today, I’m sure he’ll love to see it run down your cheeks and—”

You swing at her not even a second later, landing a solid smack on the side of her thigh. “UM Ow?!”

“Um?? Shut the fuck up,” you growl, sneering at her with a leveling scowl that you hope cuts through her.

It doesn’t.

Rene snorts, shrugging off the vanity and moving to your bed to change her clothes. As she pulls your dark jeans over her thick thighs, you can’t help but wonder if you should dress more…sexy? Your jean shorts reveal enough skin, and the jersey fits snugly around your torso. You’re no stranger to dressing to the nines and making heads turn just like her, but you value practicality more than appeal. It’s a football game, after all, and you love football. Why bother looking overly sexy when you’ll be screaming and stuffing hotdogs and pretzels in your mouth?

Despite the logic, a hand of insecurity tightens around your throat.

Rene, like the annoyingly clairvoyant bitch she is, tastes the shift in the air and rolls her eyes at you through the mirror’s reflection. “You look fucking amazing. Toji asked you out—frequently, I might add.”

The memories of his persistence flash through your mind in a rush. Heated touches in the backseat of your truck, sweaty skin sliding against each other, and your mouth dripping with moans of satisfaction were constantly interrupted by his repeated question.

“Let me take you out.”

As if he couldn’t get enough. As if he wanted more. As if he wouldn’t leave your uncle’s house that night until you flat-out told him to leave you alone.

You haven’t entertained a man since your cheating ex, so your defenses remain high and guarded, fortified with brick and mortar, armed to fend off anyone who comes too close.

But in such a short time, Toji managed to advance further than others with hard skin resilient to your attacks, and a constant insistence to be by your side. He’s spoken to you in ways that would have landed others in the ER, yet his words were always laced with harsh care to make you confront your own overreactions instead of hiding.

“Stop acting up and let me be nice to you.”

“You’re not mean to men; you just don’t do bullshit.”

“It’s okay to be a little excited about this,” Rene interjects, slicing through the thick current of your anxiety.

And you are, excited and a little nervous, though you don’t respond to her, simply reaching for your clear lip gloss to finish your makeup.

By the time there is a knock on your door thirty minutes later, you and Rene are ready to go. Your curls are piled high on your head, tendrils falling to frame your face and your hairline slicked with curled edges. There’s a subtle shake in your hands wrapped around the handle of your front door, betraying the calm façade you wear. As you open it, expecting Toji’s familiar face, you’re met with Shiu, a toothpick in his mouth and a gentle smile playing on his lips.

You greet him warmly with a hug, letting him inside. He can only hug you for a second before rushing past you and toward the direction of your room, anxious to see his fiancé. “Don’t fuck on my bed!” you yell after him, loud enough for your cousin to hear.

It’s only a minute later when there’s a knock at the door that makes you jump, shocking you into reality again as you realize that you haven’t moved since inviting Shiu inside. In your stupidity, you look through the peephole and swallow the gasp at Toji’s distorted form.

“I can see your feet. Open the door,” his deep voice cuts, familiar and commanding.

Your fingers curl against the wooden surface of your door, nails scratching lightly along the veneer as you wrestle with the innate temptation to be stubborn. Besides Nanami Kento—another close friend and coworker—Toji is the only man you’ve let talk to you like this. He’s a little bit of an asshole, but beneath his rough exterior lies a tender core that beckons you to peel back the layers like an onion, eager to feel just how soft the bulb is in the center. You’re drawn to him in a way you can’t explain, and it’s a longing that ignites a hunger that you haven’t experienced in a very long time.

With a resigned sigh, you swing the door open to be welcomed by the sight of him, a picture that leaves you momentarily breathless. You swallow the drool that pools instantly in the back of your throat, curl your toes in your sneakers to resist the urge to spring forward and slant your lips against his, and bite the inside of your lip so the twitching on the sides does not turn into a gentle smirk.

“You look good, baby,” his words roll off his tongue effortlessly, his gaze sweeping over you with a knowing intensity. It feels as though he’s studying a heavily guarded masterpiece that he finally has his hands on to steal. He notices every stroke of paint, every blotch that makes you who you are and it’s with a concentration that leaves you dizzy enough to grip the door tighter in your hands.

Though only a week has passed since you last saw him, his presence still grips you with a force that borders on intoxicating. Clad in a black shirt that accentuates his commanding presence, his broad shoulders exude a magnetic strength that summons you, stirring a primal desire to dig your fingernails into him like you did that night in your truck. One of his hands is tucked in a jeaned pocket, the other is behind his back, and jet-black locks brush his cheeks as he chuckles, undoubtedly amused by the dumbfounded stare that you’re still shooting his way. His scar cradles the side of his lips in a seductive curl as he smirks.

God, he’s so—he’s so—

His presence seems to fill the entire room, a tangible force even without crossing the threshold of your home. An urgent ache surges within you, craving the warmth of his embrace, the security of his strength.

“You gonna let me in or just keep your mouth open for the flies?” His voice breaks the reverie in your mind, a well-known blend of annoyance that fills your chest immediately. You’re reminded of how effortlessly irritating he can be, yet there’s a strange allure in his confidence.

At this point, you don’t have a quip loaded up quick enough to shoot back at him. So, you step aside and hold your breath as his large body crosses the threshold of your home.

The last time he was at your door, he barged inside with a barely contained fury and pulled you into an argument that stemmed from your unwillingness to be vulnerable and his lack of expertise in expressing himself. It was a weird song and dance that marked the beginning of something you still don’t fully understand. Now, he’s here with a slightly different demeanor, calm and self-assured as he plants a firm kiss on your cheek as if he’s a hardworking husband returning home just in time for dinner.

You gape at his nonchalance, watching in disbelief as he kicks off his shoes and pulls his hand from behind his back, presenting you a bouquet of flowers in a manner that feels both rushed and sincere. You look down at the flowers, wide-eyed and blinking to make sure the reality you are currently in isn’t actually a simulation.

Daisies.

Not the cheap, wilted blooms you kind of expected from him, but fresh, vibrant flowers. Their white petals gleam softly, each grain of pollen in the yellow center visible in the light of your kitchen. The stems are freshly cut, wrapped in a simple red bow and your chest is fluttering with a severity that unsettles you.

“I didn’t know what kind you liked. And I don’t trust Shiu with an honest answer so…” His words trail off, leaving unspoken sentiments lingering in the air.

Your lips curl around words that won’t form, and you mentally sort through your book of tricks. It’s a book you’ve spent years filling after countless experiences. Men will do just about anything for pussy. There’s no reason to be shocked at why they do the things they do—they’re all the same.

But even from that first day you met, you have already shuffled through your book when it comes to Toji. Every time you look up whatever trick he tries to pull, you come up with an empty page. There’s never a solution or a pre-written response that you can use. You have no choice but to figure this out on your own and fill in the pages later.

“If you don’t like them, you don’t have to take them,” he cuts into your thoughts, words edged with a trace of embarrassment that he’s trying to cover up with frustration. “Just give them back—” He reaches for the flowers, and you reflexively pull your arms away, much to your own shock at the way your body moves on its own.

“I like them,” you blurt out, your voice not as strong as you want it to be but thankfully steady as the words leave your lips. “They’re very nice, Toji. Thank you.”

He drops his hand, shoves it deep into the pocket of his jeans before clearing his throat and giving you a sharp nod. His eyes take in your face for only a second before they flit away to focus on a random spot in your living room, a hint of blush on his cheeks that makes the fluttering in your chest pick up in speed. It’s a weird feeling that will consume you if you don’t stay in control.

So, you push it down, swallow the pool of saliva in your mouth so it can help the glide, all the way down to the pit of your belly to extinguish the embers that threaten to lick to life. You shuffle past him and into the kitchen to fetch a vase, your mind sorting through the symptoms of various pulmonary diseases to distract yourself from the giddiness of him getting you flowers.

A normal thing. The bare minimum for a man. But it makes you feel great all the same. They aren’t your favorite, not even close, but it’s a gesture that shatters your preconceived notions about Toji that probably shouldn’t be there in the first place.

“What are they?” he asks, face still pink below his eyes that linger on the countertop instead of at you. You untie the bow at the stems and slide the daisies into an antique vase with crystalline ridges, shooting him a questioning raised eyebrow in response. One of his hands gestures wildly to the vase you are filling with water. “Your favorite flowers.”

“Snapdragons.” Toji throws you a quizzical look, his eyebrows pinched together in a clear display of confusion that makes you chuckle. You push the now full vase of flowers to the center of your kitchen countertop, the sight warming your stomach no matter how much you try to stop it. “They aren’t in season, but there’s a vendor here that sells them in the Spring and Fall. Growing up, we lived right next to a river where they would grow. My father would pick them every year and bring them to my mother as a gift. Whenever they wilted, he picked more and replaced them…over and over until they weren’t in season anymore.”

You dig your teeth into the wet flesh of your cheek to stop yourself from rambling, the need to talk more about yourself is at the tip of your tongue. He’s quiet as he takes in your response, eyebrows twitching with fleeting emotion before they smooth out into their usual calm expression. Maybe it’s your eyes playing tricks, but he looks as if he’s locked away your little nugget of information and is ready to move on to the next thing.

More of you.

That gaze is now free of shyness and taking you in, sharp and cutting and rough around the edges, his green irises sliding down to the exposed skin of your thighs, and they must beckon him because he makes his way towards you with a dominating presence that tightens your throat. He walks around the countertop, avoiding the sharp edge from biting into his side and now he’s standing in front of you, looming and dwarfing you without even trying. You catch a whiff of his cheap cologne—a different scent from what you smelled before—but still rich with bergamot undertones that make you more curious than bothered at his frugal mentality.

“Can I kiss you? Or you gonna smack me instead?”

Even though he’s teasing, he displays the growing knowledge of your boundaries and the lengths you will go to protect yourself.

“What, you want to get smacked, Toji?” you retort, lifting an eyebrow at him, your neck tingling from the strain of looking up due to his height. God, he’s such a big man. Big and burly and just enough to overwhelm you in a way that you crave so, so much.

“Nah. I want a kiss,” he confidently responds, blowing away the cloud of lust from around your head.

He’s too close and yet not close enough. He smells too good, looks too good with a voice that’s too deep and melodic for you to ride on logic for a full day, but you need him closer, so much closer and—

Your back brushes against the edge of the kitchen sink, making you tense at the realization that he’s backed you up against it and is looking down at you with that nasty smirk you entertain more than you should.

“You…” you begin, trailing off when one of his muscular arms reaches past you to rest onto the counter on one side, still giving you an escape route even though you’ll take being trapped against him any time of the day. “You already kissed me on the cheek when you walked in without asking me. Don’t be stingy.”

Toji clicks his tongue in disappointment, the sound pushing a rush of electricity down your spine that’s generating too much energy between your legs. He shrugs, broad shoulders pulling up and down, stretching his shirt in the most delicious way. “That’s not enough.”

Although lust is darkening your thoughts slowly despite your resolve, you still have enough common sense to remember the kind of woman you are. You’re someone unwilling to tolerate fuckboy behavior and would rather humiliate a man than give in to temptation that would only embarrass you in the future. You have to stay in control. Just for the rest of the day to measure his intentions with a level head. Even though you feel heavy with lidded eyes, you slip into that second skin of yourself with ease.

“Ask nicely,” you whisper.

He takes the bait—like they always do—and slinks further into your space, his broad and muscular form brushes against your softer one. Your gaze remains indifferent as he asks to kiss you in a sing-song voice that’s borderline annoying and teasing, threatening to make you laugh despite your resistance.

You take in his question with a noncommittal hum and slide a hand up the soft fabric of his chest. The muscles underneath flex and twitch beneath your palm, echoing memories of that unforgettable night when you could slide your fingers on the sweat of his abs as you rode him for all he was worth.

Your hand rests against his cheek, watching as he slowly falls for your trap, inhaling deeply with his lips a mere breath away from yours before you speak calmly and softly.

“No.”

You stroke his cheek in a soothing manner before patting it a little too hard that’s close to a smack, yanking a grunt of frustration from him as he pulls away with an bothered growl. You relish in the sigh of his scar twisting when his face curls with annoyance, his eyes rolling and his arms folding across his chest like a child being denied dessert. You can’t help the laugh that bubbles from your lips, growing in intensity as his eyes narrow at you.

“You’re so damn annoying,” he pouts, and the fact that he truly looks put off for not getting a kiss only makes you laugh harder.

***

The sight and sound of cheering fans excite you, filling you with childhood memories of games with your father. As the four of you make your way through the large parking lot and in the direction of the stadium, you take in the display of emotions that cross Toji’s face as he is immersed in a part of culture unfamiliar to him. The intricacies of American sports are puzzling to Toji, you realize. While you wave excitedly to the fans who are tailgating and grilling food and playing cornhole, he looks on in disbelief. When you explain the concept of tailgating to him, his expression deepens even more. He doesn’t like the hecklers that litter right outside the entrance and try to sell nosebleed tickets twelve times the market price. He thinks porta-pottys are foul as he takes in the long line of people who wait along the side of the large parking lot. You can tell he’s a little overwhelmed, and aggravated by the new things he learns. But he doesn’t complain, content to listen to the three of you as he watches his surroundings.

Despite the array of emotions that engulf him, he keeps you by his side without a second thought. The closer you get to the stadium, the thicker the crowd gets. When you make it through security and begin the long journey up the stone circular walkway of the stadium, Toji wraps a muscular arm around you and rests his hand on your hip in a grip that conveys a protective strength that shoots fluctuating reactions through you.

At first, you think he just wants his hands on you, and you’re prepared to smack his touch away. But then your perception shifts; a random man bumps into you with a sharp elbow into your arm and he turns around with an angry expression ready to yell. The glare that Toji levels at him leaves the man sputtering and apologizing before he slinks back into the crowd.

Normally, you don’t thrive off blatant displays of masculinity, but the sight of the man running away from Toji’s imposing stare makes your stomach fill with a deep-seated lust that surprises you. Like you’re a cavewoman, watching her caveman beat at his chest when another caveman gets too close to you. Toji grumbles to himself about the sheer number of people, his voice tinged with frustration even though his reassuring touch is gentle as he guides you through the throng of people toward your seats.

Thankfully, they aren’t nosebleeds, and they give you a good view of the field, with players already warming up. There is a large group of kids who hang off the rails, squealing in delight as their favorite players come and say hello and sign their jerseys and footballs. The speakers boom with music and commercial ads, the warm air carries the smell of popcorn up your nose, and your blood pumps in excitement.

It has been a while since you attended a football game, distant memories of sitting on your father’s shoulders as you both cheered in the stands. Since his death, you haven’t had the drive nor the time to attend another. So, to be in this position again with a man you are still trying to understand, it’s odd. But it’s not unwelcome and you’re going to enjoy every minute of it. When you watch football at home with your family, you’re a different person. You are loud and unashamed to express your feelings when you watch the games unfold. You stand up and sneer and bark at the officiant who can’t even hear you. You argue with your family about plays and players who will never know you. You love every emotion that the game brings out in you, and you’re unashamed to hide it. Toji is going to see a side of you that will either push him away or make him slink closer for more.

So, when the game begins with the kickoff, you join in the collective screams of the crowd, waving a towel in the air adorned with the yellow and black of your favorite team that is playing.

To your surprise once more, Toji did his homework. He effortlessly explains the rules as you both watch the first quarter together, looking to you for approval to make sure he’s correct. His attentive nature transforms into active participation as he cheers alongside you, his voice deep and booming compared to your screeching.

In the second quarter, there’s an injury on the field and the clash of pads ceases for long enough that fans leave their seats for food and to stretch their legs. Shiu and Rene disappear to get themselves a drink and it’s just you and Toji in the middle of empty seats.

“You’re a screamer,” he teases, his voice low and appreciative as he leans on his thigh with a cheek resting on his fist. His hair flows in the warm air before settling on pale cheeks.

“Too loud for you?” you retort, even if mildly curious about what he thinks of this side of yourself.

Toji purses his lips as he regards you with relaxed eyes. “It didn’t take me long to realize you’re not a dainty little thing. And besides,” A smile stretches across his face, white teeth glinting with a sinister disposition before his lips load with a remark you know will be salacious. “I like my women loud.”

You can be loud if he wants you to be. Preferably in another place besides your car where he can thrust like a man mad between your legs and dig those gleaming white teeth into the skin of your neck—

Oh.

For fuck’s sake.

Your blood simmers in your veins at the suggestion in his words. His eyes watch your throat when you swallow a thick pool of spit and that smile grows impossibly larger, a Cheshire cat looking at you with nasty intent. He’s too aware of the effect he has on women, and you have to look away from him to resist succumbing to the seductive charm that he wields naturally.

You steer the conversation back into your hands. “You were so curious about me when we first met but I don’t know much about you. Are you here in America for a reason? What do you do for work?”

In your own line of work, observation is key; every subtle cue from your patients holds significance, revealing layers of truths that they usually try to conceal. So, when you notice the tension in Toji’s jaw at your question, the way his features contort subtly, it’s a detail you slot into a drawer of curiosity that takes part of the file cabinet of Toji in your mind.

“I’m a private investigator,” he confesses harshly, catching you off guard. It’s a revelation you don’t anticipate. His imposing features give you the impression of a firefighter or maybe even a cop. Not someone watching others in his car, bugging houses and apartments, and gathering evidence. A PI? You open that drawer of curiosity again and slot away this information as well. He shrugs away the awkwardness that your silence brings, nonchalant and dismissive, avoiding your gaze. “It pays the bills. The hours suck sometimes but…the work is easy.”

“So…naturally I can’t really ask about the things you do?” you don’t hide the inquisitiveness that coats your words.

“It’s nothing glamorous enough to talk about.” And that’s all he offers you in response.

You have a myriad of questions swirling in your mind, each vying for attention from a man who is as tight-lipped as you. How did he even get into this kind of work? Who are his clients? Cheaters, embezzlers…or criminals?

That and so much more brew in your mind, tumbling over the other but ultimately dissipating when you sense his reluctance, evident from his still-averted gaze and tense shoulders.

“What about family? You asked me about mine, but I never got to hear about yours.”

Granted, you only told him about the members of your family who danced in your backyard when you both were wrapped in one another two weeks ago. He doesn’t know about the more intimate parts of your family life. He doesn’t know about your father’s death, or the estrangement of your stepfamily. But that can come later. Toji hasn’t given you enough of himself.

Toji’s features now morph into disdain, souring the air between you. The bright emerald of his eyes dims with a grayish overcast, the liquid of the irises hardening like cooling lava.

His response is terse, laced with palpable displeasure that intensifies the acrid taste in the air. “There isn’t much to tell. I don’t get along with them, and they do their best to not get along with me either.” The timbre of his voice is lower, menacing enough to let you know it’s a subject he won’t entertain. At least for right now.

You open your mouth to speak again, to maybe apologize for making him uncomfortable, to reassure him that you wouldn’t judge him over something like this. He shifts in his seat, clasps his hands together and absentmindedly picks at a callous on the side of his thumb. The pink flush on his cheeks is not one of bashfulness, but of frustration and embarrassment. From the sliver of his eyes you can see, there is something simmering beneath the surface that might take you a while to unveil.

“I do have a son, though.” The sentence shoots into the air and down your spine with a chilling clarity, breaking the flow of your thoughts as you blink in astonishment.

Pardon???

Considering he’s a grown man a few years older than you, it’s understandable. But the notion of him being a father never crossed your mind. The concept of children isn’t foreign to you; you see and take care of them every day. It’s the concept of children coming from him that’s a new development you have to consider.

While you believe you can handle a relationship with a single father, you’re upset at being told now, rather than before.

“You were with me all day two weeks ago and you never took the time to mention you have a son?”

You don’t hide your irritation. Once your trust is lost, it’s almost impossible to regain. Why would you give away sacred pieces of yourself to a man you wouldn’t trust to hold those pieces with care?

Despite your frustration, you rationalize.

Maybe Toji was nervous to bring it up? Some people may like to ease into such topics. This relationship, or whatever this is, is brand new and smooth. There haven’t been any cracks caused by arguments or behavior that is damaging.

But this isn’t about having a job that he’s not proud of or admitting that he is not financially responsible. This is about an entire child, a facet of his life that he cannot hide away. How long would he have waited to tell you if the topic of family hadn’t come up so soon? Would he have told you? Would he hide his son away and push him off to a babysitter on date nights so you are never aware? Would he sleep over at your house, so you can’t see the room that’s decorated for a child or the toys scattered about the floor?

As you wrestle with the growing anxiety that crawls across your skin, Toji fumbles for something in his pocket, his face a satisfying beet red as you watch him hand you his open phone. Bright from the illumination of the screen, you take in a picture of a young boy who bears a striking resemblance to Toji. His raven locks spiky and disheveled, his green eyes sharp and ethereal, and he wears a bored and calm expression just like his father. The chubbiness of his cheeks and innocence in his eyes tug at something in your chest; he can’t be any older than six years old. The sight of the boy makes you think of the many kids you take care of every day, and some of the frustration subsides within you.

“His name is Megumi,” he informs you, shy despite his rough exterior. He picks at the callous on the side of his thumb again, and one of his legs begins to shake in place.

The frustration dies down more. It’s a beautiful name, and as you look at the picture, a small smile tugs at your lips. You wonder what kind of a boy he is.

“Fuck listen—just I-I’m shit at this.”

You look up at him and take in the apprehension on his face. His lips are downturned in a gentle frown, the scar on the side of his face warped along with the muscles of his mouth. There’s a sense of shame in his gaze, and it somehow makes you feel relieved to know that he can feel just how upset you are.

“I don’t date women…I fuck them and stay around until they want me gone.” He doesn’t bother to sugarcoat his words. They shoot out of his mouth, piercing your skin with their directness. It’s a little painful, and you struggle to absorb his blatant honesty, feeling flashes of anger and indignation fill your chest as your lips part, ready to respond with directness of your own. “But you’re the first woman in a long fucking time that’s made me want more. So just…” he trails off, stuttering over what to say before ultimately growling low in his throat into silence.

You hesitate, lips flinching and syllables of fury dissipating in the small space between your top and bottom lip. “You gonna let me meet him?” you snap because you’re still mildly irritated as you give him his phone and pinch the muscle of his bicep with a harshness that reflects your fading anger and your desire to see him squirm for his actions.

He swats your hand away as if you’re a pest, moving his arm from you with a sneer that holds no malice. “No let me just lock him in my closet every time I want to see you—of course, I’ll fucking let you meet him.”

You throw him a withering glare, ignoring his sarcasm, and the smirk that slides onto his lips only makes you want to either smack or kiss him. The fact that you can’t decide on which only annoys you more.

*** Toji ***

“Gimme two hot dogs and a pretzel,” Toji mutters to the concession stand attendant. It’s halftime, and the walkways behind the stands are crowded with fans hurrying to go to the bathroom, or for more food and alcohol. You stand close to him, a welcome warmth that he wants more of but refuses to ask for on the off chance you deny him. He doesn’t feel like pouting for the rest of the day.

“And what’ll it be for the lady?” the attendant asks with a level of humor that is off-putting, a smile on his face that Toji knows you itch to smack off.

“It is for the lady,” you correct, a hint of condescension falling from plush lips that you still won’t let him taste. The attendant sputters, his face red as a tomato as he takes the rest of Toji’s order, doing his best to ignore the deadly glare you shoot him as he counts Toji’s money. A snort rattles from Toji’s chest as he watches you. He’s known from the beginning that you’re fiery, but seeing it firsthand fascinates and arouses him at the same time.

This environment is different for him, odd in every way, and a foreign ground that he’s unsteady on. The celebratory atmosphere reminds him of the loud laughter and fireworks from festivals that he could hear outside the Zenin compound throughout the year. He thinks of the Tanabata festivals he never got to experience or the years of Hanami that he was forbidden to enjoy. He could only take a small bit of pleasure in cherry blossoms in the Zenin gardens, blooming and scattering their petals on the well-kept grass to mark the beginning of the season. As a child, he was never allowed much. He was seen as ‘inferior trash’ that was insignificant and unworthy to be looked at let alone talked to unless it was to yell or belittle. Naturally, his family didn’t want others to see where said trash came from if they could help it.

He can’t think about it right now—he won’t. The thought of his family brings a tight coil of pain and anger in his chest, a coil he had used as fuel to cope with his dangerous decisions.

There’s so much more that he needs to focus on, like the fact that you’ve already taken a big bite out of one of your hot dogs. Half of it has disappeared from your hand, and there’s ketchup on the edge of your mouth as you chew. He notices the way you shift your hips from side to side in your seat, and the satisfied hum that escapes your throat. You’re satisfied, and while you eat with manners, you don’t hide your boisterous enjoyment, finishing one hot dog and moving on to the next, your pretzel wedged between the meat of your seductive thighs.

He’s been trying to be respectful all day ever since you denied him a kiss in the kitchen, but you’re tempting him. When you answered the door earlier in the afternoon, the hand that was in his pocket pinched the side of his thigh until the shameless thoughts could fade away.

You’ve graced his presence with shorts and a jersey, a yellow and black number that lays against your chocolate skin in a way that still seems to make you glow in the setting sun. No braids this time, your natural curls have fallen from your bun after screaming so much, framing your face and causing your gold hoops to wink at him. You didn’t wear makeup that night when he met you, so the sight of eyeliner on you today, and the way it accentuates the curve of your eye and the heaviness of your long lashes, it makes him shift in his seat.

He’s had to clench his jaw and bear the pain of his teeth grinding against each other to stop himself from ogling at the mouth-watering canvas of your legs. You’re all curves with dimples at the bottom of your thighs when you sit, and his gums ache to sink into the flesh so you can squeal and beg for him to touch you where you want it most. It’s been weeks since that night and he’s feigning for more. When you smile at him or shoot him a glare, it reminds him of that commanding aura you had in the backseat of your truck, and the back of his neck prickles with sweat.

While the thought of you skinning him alive if he decides to be a Neanderthal turns him on, he wants to be civil. In your kitchen earlier today, you allowed him to get close enough to feel the heat radiating from your skin, to catch the scent of coconut from your curls, tantalizing his senses until your firm ‘no’ sobered him up immediately. It was a stark reminder of who you are, and how little you tolerate.

He'll behave.

His eyes catch you guzzling down five heaping gulps of your beer, the foam coating your upper lip. You wipe it away with your finger, sucking the digit into your mouth, and popping it out completely oblivious to how sinful you look and Toji’s catapulted into that day when you sucked your own cum off his fingers.

He has to behave.

The vibration of his phone in his pocket sours his mood immediately, turning his gaze from your form as he digs into his pocket. It’s the third time it’s buzzed today, and he knows who it is. No matter how hard he tries to ignore it, he can only put off his job for so long.

Unknown: Good job on the assignment last week.

Unknown: Your pay should be in your account by tonight.

Unknown: There’s another contract for you if you’re interested. Message me back and I’ll send you details.

“Everything okay?” Your voice pulls him from his phone, and he meets your curious gaze, one of your elegant eyebrows lifting in question as you assess him. “Something with work?”

“Yea,” he replies and regrets it immediately.

Lie #1

It’s not a complete lie—it is work—but the details…

Toji takes a long swig of his beer, attempting to soothe the shame that washes over him.

You really are a screamer.

Toji sits back in his seat, watching you with a wicked smile as you unleash a torrent of colorful language that makes his cock twitch. Even though you roar with the crowd, your voice rises higher.

“That’s a fucking flag! I should come down there and officiate for you instead you stupid piece of shit!”

Your curls brush the skin of your cheeks that puff in your frustration, your arms folding across your chest as you cock your hip and growl beneath your breath. You’re easily the loudest one in this section of the stands. Rene revels in it, egging you on by rooting for the opposite team and giggling when you bark at her. Shiu is content to watch the display, a fresh toothpick in his mouth and an arm over Rene’s shoulders as he idly twirls a lock of hair at her nape. You’re all yelling and sputtering indignation as you watch the game unfold, your team losing by what Toji has learned is a touchdown.

He knew this side of you was there. He could tell in the weight of your gaze that night. It's a side of you that he did not expect to see so soon. He soaks it in. He takes in the way you cuss out the man three rows down who won’t stop glaring at you. He absorbs how high-pitched the screech of your voice makes his eardrums shake, and he revels in the smile that forms on your lips when your team scores the game-winning touchdown.

When there are lulls in the game, you tell him about your career. You’re a pulmonary pediatric fellow at a hospital here in town that’s only a year and a half from completing your fellowship. You smile when you talk about the kids you take care of and your associates at work. You’re proud of your research and of how far you’ve come.

All of it, every part of you that you show him, is comforting. Warm despite how cold you appear. It’s a comfort he didn’t imagine having…ever in his life—especially a dreary life like his. But he soaks up this—you—as much as he can.

When the game is over, you’re elated and giggling, tucked into his side as he guides you through the drunken crowd. The moon is high in the sky, and it bathes your skin and makes you stand out in the crowd. You look up at him, smiling softly with a buzzed gaze that’s two beers deep.

“Did you have fun? Not bad for your first American game?”

“You screamed the entire time,” he teases, chuckling at the way you gape up at him and then sneer before turning away. He throws his arm around your shoulders, using the touch as a safe territory to keep his hands to himself, and pulls you closer.

You demand cotton candy which he indulges in as well before you both part ways with Rene and Shiu. The journey back to your apartment is a quiet one. As Toji drives, the warm July air fills the car, mingling with the faint strains of classic rock playing on the radio. Toji watches with flickering glances as you hum along, your eyes closed and the breeze wafting through your curls loose around your shoulders.

Something inside of him rattles. Whatever it is, it’s long-forgotten and buried deep within him, surrounded by cobwebs and dust that have accumulated over time since that dark day years ago.

*** You ***

From the short journey of his car to inside of your apartment, you repeat to yourself that you have to take this slow, for your own peace of mind.

You keep the most intimate parts of yourself locked away and only those who are worthy of you have a copy of the key. But somehow, and in such a short time, Toji has stolen a copy for himself and slotted the key into the door. But thankfully, the door is caught against the wall, hinges rusted over and ungiving.

You have to know more about him before you let him in to look at those parts of you. If you jump the gun and give him more so soon and end up hurt, it will throw you into a depth of pain that you promised yourself to never touch again if you could help it.

“You have a good time?”

Toji’s voice breaks the silence, his arms folding tightly across his chest, betraying the restlessness in his hands. His messy black locks, tousled by the late July humidity, partially hide his emerald gaze, which flickers briefly to meet your own before darting away.

Your socked feet pad across the hardwood floor, closing the space between you, and your head slowly tilts to look at him. Despite his façade of composure, his scar curves against his lips in a slight twist, twitching as he tries not to frown. Thin eyebrows pitch down in frustration, and you catch the way his fingertips drum against the skin of his biceps. He’s fidgety—nervous. Is he upset with himself? Ashamed that he couldn’t take you out on a proper date with dinner and a movie like everyone else expects?

Hopefully, he will learn that you go against the grain of proper in so many ways.

“I had a great time,” you confess softly, noticing the subtle relaxation in his stance at your words. The thrumming of his fingers stop, the tension in his shoulder fades. “You wanted to take me out and I let you. That all you want from me?”

He’s such an expressive man.

His face twists, perturbed by your bluntness and the prospect of delving into emotional territory. “I told you already that I want more.”

His declaration sends a fluttering through your heart that is reminiscent of the feeling you had when he surprised you with a slice of yellow cake. It’s comforting, and you want to lean into it. But it’s not enough to overwhelm you. You’re still in your right mind and still aware of your expectations even though he captivates you.

You press your finger into the firmness of his chest, hard so that the muscle pillows around your digit. The gaze you shoot up at him is unyielding, serious, and menacing enough that he straightens his spine just a little.

“Listen to me, because I’m only going to say this one more time. I don’t do situationships. I don’t do friends with benefits or the occasional hookup. I’m not saying things need to be serious with us but…you need to show me that you mean it.”

As you speak, you assess Toji, who shows no signs of amusement or ignorance. His posture is rigid, his back ramrod straight, and his deep green gaze locked onto yours.

“That night we had was great. I won’t deny that but…I won’t compromise my expectations and I don’t tolerate bullshit. I’m not going to let you fuck me just because we did it before. You want more? I want you to try. Earn me.”

You relish in the way his eyes widen, contemplating your words and the severity beneath them before his face smooths back into its usual cool demeanor. He unfolds his arms from his chest, and you curse inwardly at the way you immediately watch his shirt stretch across defined pectorals.

“You know you’re a feisty little thing.”

Heat from the way he speaks and annoyance at his lack of attention flare within you like wildfire. You open your mouth to yell, to bark at him to be serious, but the sound of his laughter extinguishes that fire inside of you instantly.

He doesn’t offer an apology for his comment and you don’t need one. You know you’re feisty and steadfast. It’s the only way you can function around men to survive, to stay afloat and still have a grasp of who you are. And if Toji couldn’t handle it, you definitely wouldn’t have slept with him or entertained a date that you thoroughly enjoyed.

“I’ll try,” he finally offers, voice soft but filled with conviction. Normally the small remark would offend you, but surprisingly coming from Toji, it’s enough.

Observing his behavior today and a little bit two weeks ago, you note his acceptance of your quirks and individuality—at least the bits you allow him to see. He marveled at the amount of food you ate and joined alongside you. He let you babble to him about every single player on your favorite team and how many championships they had won. He let you display your strength in your voice and personality, didn’t try to control or overshadow you like so many other past experiences you’ve had before learning how to rule the men in your life.

He let you be yourself.

And that thought makes you finally open your mouth to give him something he had asked for earlier, something you had previously denied despite your own desires.

“You can have your kiss,” you offer with a shrug, feigning nonchalance even though your heart picks up in speed as the implication registers on his face. “So you better do it right.”

It’s an invitation that he snatches away from your imaginary hands and tears open with thick fingers, greedy and growling with finality.

His sharp gaze traces the contours of your body, unabashed in its appraisal, leering at the pieces of skin visible to him. You know he’s been looking at you all day, but his observation now is intense, heavy and without reservation and you’re fumbling from the sudden rush of longing that pumps hot through your veins.

Toji inches closer, your hands instinctively find their way to his chest, his towering presence overwhelming your small stature. His height ignites an evolutionary desire in you that makes your mouth water, makes your cunt pulse with need beckoning for him to fill the mold he left inside two weeks ago. You’re still not used to climbing up the summit of him, so the air is thin once more, pulling the oxygen from your lungs and stuttering in your chest when a large hand cups the side of your neck and tilts your face up to him like an offering.

When his lips slide against yours, your fingers in his shirt tighten. His touch singes the ends of your nerves, boils the blood in your veins that pump fast throughout your body. Your skin is burning, searing when muscular arms hoist you up and wrap your legs around his thick waist before your ass is sliding on the cold marble of your kitchen counter, your lips still sealed against his.

There’s so much of this that feels like that night at your uncle’s. So much and yet not enough.

He drowns you with his touch, digs his fingers into the plump flesh of your thighs before yanking you, hard and with unforgiving impatience, closer to his body. The fabric of your jeans rubs too harsh against your wet panties, digs against the sensitivity of your clit and you repress the insatiable yearning to roll your hips against his.

Toji’s large hands slide up your body, traversing the mesh of your jersey that hugs you before cupping each side of your face again to tilt you sharper in the way he wants. Blue raspberry from the cotton candy you both indulged in after the game coats his tongue that licks your bottom lip in a silent request for entrance, and you grant him access, surrendering a whimper into his mouth as his tongue slides sinfully against yours. Tastebuds kiss your own, slide against them with whispered promise of satisfaction if you just relax and melt further into him. Just a little.

But you can’t, god you can’t.

You’re losing control and you have to stay strong. You have to stay above the waters of logical thinking even though you’re sinking with every stroke of his tongue, with every sweet, hot breath into your mouth, with every inch of flesh that your fingers dig into his chest because you need more. More than a kiss, more than what he’s offering, and you know he can give it to you. Toji can pull you into the inferno he’s raging inside of your body until your clothes are scorched off and his skin is sliding against yours sweaty, sticky, and undulating with every roll of his hips.

But he doesn’t give you more. He doesn’t pull you further into that fire.

The intensity of his kiss dies down slowly, his lips pulling away from yours with a wet smack as you pant along with him. Toji kisses your lips once, then twice, nips your bottom lip to seal everything he’s given before smirking down at you. Too devilish and arrogant and you don’t have a working brain cell in your head right now to correct him. His hands that cradle your cheeks slide down to your upper arms, giving them a gentle squeeze before he speaks.

“You still gonna let me be nice to you?”

His words are an echo of that night, his own way of telling you that he’s here. That he wants more—that he wants to give you more. You just have to let him.

With your head still swimming and the pulsing between your legs refusing to calm, you want him to be more than nice right now. But remembering the boundaries you have set, you nod instead and sigh into him when he kisses you one last time, sweeping his blue raspberry-flavored tongue against yours before pulling away, acting as though it’s nothing, as though you’re not sweaty at the small of your back and trembling with desire.

“Lock the door for me,” he commands, words devoid of a questioning tone, but filled with a sense of security and protection that you lean into.

“O-okay,” you manage to breathe, your heart slowing back into sinus rhythm, only to jump again as he places one final kiss on your lips, then your nose. You frantically bat him away before you lose consciousness, because any more and you’ll drag him into your room and disregard everything you said five minutes ago.

You watch him saunter away, pull his keys from his pocket, and twirl them in his hand before winking. “I’ll text you.”

It sounds so ridiculous coming from his lips, from a grown man who looks as if he doesn’t even know what a cellphone is, let alone a text message.

But it still makes your heart jump all the same.

You can only nod in response because your throat is too dry and heavy in the back of your throat with each swallow you take. You follow him to the door and roll your eyes at his annoying smirk before he closes the door behind him, casting your apartment into silence.

Your fingers wobble as they turn the locks of your door into place. You’re lightheaded, brain flitting through salacious memories of what you both did weeks ago and what you could easily be doing now.

You throw your back against the door and sag to the floor with an annoyed sigh.

*** Toji ***

Unknown: There’s another contract for you if you’re interested. Message me back and I’ll send you details.

Toji: I’m interested. Send me what you have.

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satorisoup · 2 months

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SAY CHEESE .ᐟ

ft. haikyuu boys and their dimples <3

cw : nothing but fluff!

jjk version | demon slayer version

✉︎ incoming note from the writer .ᐟ

based on this post i made, because this is one of my favorite things to think about :3

bokuto has the prettiest smile you could come across. stretching wide and proud, with two deep, prominent circular dimples adorning both of his cheeks. they pop up even when he’s just talking, and they add to his lovely character even more.

akaashi has one dimple on the right side of his face, only showing when he smiles or occasionally when he’s talking. it’s deep and pretty, adding so much more to effect of one of his rather rare full smiles.

kuroo has two, long dimples on the sides of his cheeks. every subtle smirk, and every full blown grin, you can see the flash of his dimples. it makes his teasing smiles all the more enticing.

atsumu has one dimple on his left, while osamu has one dimple on his right. twins who look very alike, however the subtle, but noticeable differences make them unique in their own ways. atsumu grins widely, dimple dark and cheeky. osamu has a softer smile, cheeks rounded and a deep perfect circle where his pretty dimple resides.

kenma has two dimples on the corners of his mouth, dahlia marks only the most lucky people can see. on the blue moon that kenma smiles or laughs, you can see the small indents that protrude at the corners of his lips.

iwaizumi has one circular dimple, and one longer dimple. different to eachother, but it accentuates the person he is. one side showing the softness behind it all, and the other displaying the tough facade he portrays.

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holographings · 3 months

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local man forced to do anything other than just work a 9 to 5. reports that his life & relationship with his dog is ruined

#do kids nowadays know about dmmd?? they should #top of the list on //things i found out about far too young//. wouldn't have it any other way #dramatical murder #dmmd #aoba seragaki #i've forgotten how difficult it can be to adapt super anime-y looking characters to my own art style #my art #sketch

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detectiveforfree · 2 years

Photo

wallywallywallywallywallywally

#wally west #kid flash #the flash #justice league #justice league unlimited #young justice #batman the brave and the bold #teen titans #teen titans comics #teen titans go #jlu!wally #jl!wally #yj!wally #tt!wally #ttc!wally #ttg!wally #just exploration of animated wallys+old comic wally because ive been browsing blog that liveposted their old teentitans read #y cant i hold all these wallys #cant help but admire the fact that wallys kid flash outfit is consistent throughout animated incarnations. and comics too. like?? iconic

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wonderthor · 5 months

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saturdays

pairing: husband!bakugo x black!female!reader

summary: you show your husband the perks of staying at home on saturdays.

warnings: reader and bakugo are married and in their 20s, cursing, SMUT 18+(blowjob, name calling(slut), dirty talking, slight degradation, cum swallowing, throat fucking, hair pulling, slight slapping/cheek patting, ball playing, i used “dick” cuz it’s nasty)

a/n: happy thanksgiving y’all i’m currently ovulating and feel like if i’m not bent over a table and thoroughly dicked down any minute i will wither away… so here’s more husband bakugo thirst

Saturday mornings were always quiet and meant for relaxation and laziness. you were in the kitchen making tea while your husband was getting dressed to go to gym with the boys. you pouted, telling him how you both were supposed to stay home and cuddle and contemplate new projects around the house. but he simply ruffled your hair and said “stop pouting before you get wrinkles, sweet cheeks. i’ll be back before you can miss me.” you doubted that though.

you heard his heavy footsteps come down the stairs and into the kitchen. you stood at the counter, still staring down at your tea, stirring it softly. he huffed and walked over to you, standing behind and leaning his head on your shoulder to speak directly in your ear.

“i know you’re still not pouting. lighten up and maybe i’ll give you a real good treat when i get home.”

before you could retort, he gave a firm slap to your ass and a light kiss to your cheek. you gasped and looked up at him sternly.

“why you-!”

“sorry baby i’m running late, be back soon!”

he walked towards the door before you could hit him back.

hmm, two can play at that game.

“wait baby, i wanna give you a kiss goodbye!” you yelled as you walked towards him before he made it to the door.

he stopped in his tracks and let go of the doorknob that he just touched.

“come on babe i’m already running late! and i just gave you a kiss.”

you walked over to him, standing right in front of him so you were basically chest to chest.

“yeah but i wanna give you a real kiss.”

he sighed. “ugh fine, come here.”

he leaned down to kiss you, obviously meaning for it to be a quick kiss. however, you had other plans. you deepened the kiss, walking towards him more until his back was against the wall. you moved your hands up to brush your fingers against his abs, moving under his shirt. in his surprise, he gasped and accidentally gave you access to shove your tongue in his mouth.

“w-wait baby i-”

“what’s the matter suki? i just wanna say goodbye, in my own way,” you said deviously as you lowered down onto your knees in front of him.

he swallowed as you rubbed him through his shorts. you looked up at him, both to tease him and to admire the view. with his sleeveless hoodie and his basketball shorts and his flustered face, he looked hot as fuck. he was sweating when you pulled him out of his shorts, rubbing your hand up and down his dick. you made sure to link him straight in the eyes while you leaned down to lay feather light kisses all around it. his breath hitched as he kept his eyes on you, in a trance and unable to look away.

you leaned down some more to lick him all the way from the bottom to the top, causing him to grunt. then you focused on his tip, licking with more pressure as your tongue slid across his slit.

“fuck,” he hissed at the feeling of your hot, wet tongue and clasped his hand in your hair.

you smirked and made sure to remain eye contact again as you began to swallow him into your mouth, going a little past the tip at first and then working your way down more and more. when he finally hit the back of your throat, he leaned back his head in bliss.

“ahh, shit baby!” he moaned and gripped your hair even tighter.

you pulled back and took him out of your mouth. he looked back down at you and watched as you leaned down to mouth at his balls, jerking him off while you licked and sucked.

now he smirked at you as he said, “you’re so fucking nasty, you know that? slobberin all over my dick like that, makin such a mess.”

you smiled as his words made you much more wetter than you already were. the flustered katsuki was gone and the fierceness and fire in his eyes replaced him. you leaned back up and swallowed him into your mouth again, going all the way to the back of your throat in one go.

“just like that baby girl, keep going just like that.”

you bobbed your head, back and forth on him, slowly at first and then gaining more speed. you made sure to circle your wrist around him as your head went back and to make sure to get the inch of his dick that didn’t fit in your mouth. the other hand stayed teasing and playing with his balls. he braced his hand on the back of your head as he started to thrust into your mouth, working against your head.

“you ready baby?”

that was the only warning you got before he braced both of his hands on your head and started to full on fuck your face. you gripped his shorts for dear life as he abused your throat, tears streaming down your face and saliva drooling down his dick and your face and neck. all that could be heard now was his rough grunts and your wet, garbled choking sounds. you were running out of air and dug your nails into his thighs. he grabbed you by the hair and pulled you off of him. you leaned back and coughed, trying to catch your breath.

“you good?”

once you caught your breath you answered, “yeah i’m good, keep going.”

“you sure?”

you moved your hands back up his thighs and slowly rubbed him a bit. “yes baby, please? i just wanna feel you cum down my throat.”

he blinked out of shock at his teary, drool covered wife. the shock only lasted for a second.

“fuck, you’re such a nasty fucking slut.”

“only for you,” you said as you smiled and jerked him a bit faster.

he smiled back, rubbing his hand over your hair.

“alright then, open,” he said as he firmly patted your cheek.

without hesitation, you opened your mouth and he thrusted himself back in. you closed your hand in a fist as he rammed your throat over and over, preventing yourself from gagging too much. his grip tightened again as he went faster and harder, getting closer to his release.

“you wanted it down your throat, right?”

you looked up at him, telling him yes with your eyes as you squeezed his thighs with anticipation.

he gave a light laugh and said, “so fucking greedy,” as his thrusts became faster before losing their pace.

he pulled your head fully onto his dick, hugging around your head as he moaned and came down your throat. you closed your eyes and focused on swallowing around him with your constricted airway. when he was done, you yanked you by your hair again and pulled you off of him. he pulled your chin up so you could look at him.

“show me.”

you look into his eyes as you opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out, showing him that you truly swallowed it all.

he laughed again and patted your cheeks, harder this time as he said, “good. fucking. girl!”

you smiled proudly and stood back up to face him again. he used his hand to wipe off all of the tears and slobber off of your face. he heard his phone vibrate in his pocket and took it out. it was kirishima. he huffed.

“i can’t believe i’m this late all because you were a horny little minx.” he said as he tucked himself away and pulled his shorts back up.

“i can’t believe that you’re the one pouting now, and you started it!”

you rolled your eyes and moved back to walk away. but he was quick and pulled you back to him, leaning his head down a bit to stare at you directly in the eyes.

“yeah? well guess what. when i get back home, i’m finishing it.”

you gulped as gave another kiss to your cheek and straightened up.

“bye baby, see you later!”

the door slammed shut as the hair on the back of your neck still stood up straight.

that fucker.

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lovebeatriceplz · 20 days

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My love mine all mine

Yuji Itadori x Reader

My baby, here on earth

Showed me what my heart was worth

So, when it comes to be my turn

Could you shine it down here for her?

Nothing was the same, he tried...so hard. He tried to forget about it, to fix it, but his life will never go back to normal. Sukuna, he could feel him, he was always there. Maybe..just maybe, if he was gone everyone would be better off, you would be better off.

A gentle stroke of his hair brings him back to reality. "i called your name three times" you say quietly. The pale moonlight peers through the drapes. He came over to spend the night to get away from himself, but his thoughts consumed him none the less.

"sorry.." he mutters, not even sure if you heard. You rest your head on the pillow and try to fall asleep. His arms wrap around your figure, burying his face into your stomach, maybe that way the voices will leave him alone.

You look down at him. His grip felt tight, tighter than usual, it actually hurt a little. Your fingers run through his soft, pink locs, causing him to shudder. "what's on your mind?" You ask as gently as possible, not wanting the worry accumulating inside of you to scare him.

Silence fills the room. You try to pull away, trying to pry him off you so you can see his face. His grip tightens, not budging.

A sigh escapes you, and you press kisses to the top of his head, and any part of his face you can reach. "I love you...i'll always love you, no matter what" whispers of pure love and devotion pass your lips and enter his mind. His body starts to shake a little and you feel a few teardrops hit your abdomen.

You try to pull away again but his grasp on you was stronger than ever. So tight, that bruises might actually appear on your sides the next day. "yu- you're squishing me" you croak out. He immediately lets go and you take the opportunity to hold his face before he can hide again.

Tending hands reach out to wipe away his tears. "i'm scared.." he whispers in a hoarse voice.

" scared of what love?" You were always so desperate to understand him, to understand what was going on in that head of his. "everything?" he replies with a shrug, pulling away from you. You didn't need to share his burden.

He just stares into nothing for the next few moments. Desperately trying to swallow the lump in his throat. He couldn't even look at you without choking up again, you were so perfect, you didn't deserve this.

A surge of purpose, or at least that's what you thought it was, takes control of him and he turns to you with an intense look in his eyes. His hands grasp yours and he rests his forehead on yours. "I love you, more than anything....and i just- i want you to know...well i hope-" he stops, getting his thoughts together.

A puzzled look flashes across your features. "yes? what is it?". He takes a deep breath. "when i die, i'm gonna watch over you, my ancestors too, no matter what happens to me you'll be fine" he whispers, resting his head on your shoulder.

You feel your heart sink. He impulsively said things like that all the time, but he looked so serious. This one, something's definitely off about it.

You pull away from his embrace "d-don't say things like that" voice wavering slightly. "We'll both be fine" you say firmly. He gives you a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "I mean- we can say that now but, my death is inevitable"

Tears sting the corners of your eyes and your chest begins to ache. "how could you say something like that yuji?" Your tone becomes a bit harsher.

A slight frown appears on his face, although his demeanor is very gentle. " you know this c'mon, my life is in danger everyday, they're people who still want to execute me, my teacher is sealed-"

" What? are you trying to ease the blow of me losing you? don't you think i know all of that already?" You cut him off. This took a swerve in the wrong direction, this wasn't supposed to happen.

"Yes! i'm aware that you know all of that, that's why i need you to understand" he's basically begging for you to just listen. "Are forgetting that he's inside of me, don't you remember what happened in Shibuya?". Oops

There it was, the thing that has been plaguing his mind all this time. He shuts up immediately, and his breathing becomes audible.

Nothing came out of your mouth because he was right. Sukuna has proven how everything can go to shit if he takes over, you could lose Yuji without him actually dying.

You want to console him but you start to cry instead. The sight of tears running down that pretty face was enough to make him feel sick.

"Hey...hey i'm sorry" he whispers. You bury yourself into his embrace, and he holds you tightly, resting his head on your chin. He wasn't even going to cry, he accepted his fate a long time ago.

Fingers dig into his hoodie as you look up at him. "I don't want to lose you" you say between sobs. He wipes away your tears and leans down to kiss you.

It's the type of kiss that made you feel warm all over, the type that made something stir deep inside of you. The type that made you feel like everything would be okay. He stays there until you calm down a little.

He pulls away, a little breathless. "you're the best thing that's ever happened to me" that sounds cliche but he meant it, he meant every word. He didn't want to see you cry, he was hurting you and he hasn't even died yet.

" I know you want to avoid it but we can't, it's inevitable, my life is..basically temporary...i'm temp-" a finger to his lips stops him from finishing that sentence. You lay back down, bringing him with you and your lips find his.

He doesn't protest and he melts into your touch. It's okay if you didn't want to talk, as long as you understood. Besides, it stopped him from going back to that dark place and drowning in his thoughts.

You haven't accepted it, you're not sure if you ever will but for his sake, you can pretend. You can also give him all your love now, you can show him why life is worth living while he still has it. You can show him that he's yours, and you're his.

Whether you accept what he thinks his future is or not, he believes that he will indeed, watch over you when he's gone.

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z0-ne · 8 months

Text

Fish eyes (!PLATONIC! UNCLE ILLUMI X CHILD READER + FATHER KILLUA)

This story is based off the illumi portion of THIS scenario! I know a lot of ppl like to think in the future he'd be better and suddenly understands what he did was wrong but like- what if he doesn't???

!warning!~ This story includes, stalking, kidnapping, hurt no comfort, child abuse and some gore.

READ WITH CAUTION!~ illumi is NOT a good person in this story.

Being one of the children of one of the greatest accomplishments in the zoldyck family is a blessing on one hand.

Your father doesn't follow in his own father's footsteps, something you are grateful for, your mother the same. Both assasins within their own right have taken another path with children of their own.

They're loving parents, well, as loving as they can be with the emotional damage they've received, specifically your mother. She's sweet in her own way, but if you had to pick between who was more playful and affectionate it would be your father for sure..

You always assumed it was because she's paranoid, of who? You have no idea, but you do overhear your parents conversate over someone you can only assume to be a bother to them. Sometimes your Uncle Gon would visit as well and be included in the conversation after dark.

Its ominous, you've never heard everything they said, because you would always end up having to sneak out before they mention a name, but you do know that there may be more than one person.

Its nothing to worry too much about right now though, you're still young, and you have two of the strongest people yet as your parents, not to mention your auntie alluka who tries to keep tabs on you all at all times, and your uncle Gon just in case you get lost.

Of course that is if you ever make it outside the mansion grounds, but you never travel that far. As the second youngest of six siblings, you have a lot of people on your back, watching you and making sure you don't wonder too far off.

It makes you wonder what's beyond that, why security suddenly got so strict, then again right now you're only seven, maybe it'll loosen up a bit as you get older, but it is odd. Your oldest sister said things didn't use to be like this.

You tried asking why, first your father but he just told you 'you're too young right now, stay here were you're safe' and rubs his thumb over your forehead to brush off the question. Then your mother, but of course she basically does the same, saying it's best to stay here. Even auntie alluka seems hesitant to tell you much of anything.

Uncle Gon is out of the question, he tells you about all the big creepy monsters out there, some are gross, like the evil giant bugs that roam around, or some gross snail person that leaves a trail of slime that leads to nowhere. Uncle Gon is like reinforcement to make sure you don't get curious about wondering.

Sometimes it works, other times you think you can take those monsters head on. It makes you more curious about the world outside that your oldest sister and her friend travel freely.

You tried asking her about it, since she travels with a girl who trains under your uncle's wing. She's not his daughter but she looks and acts so much like him from what your father told you about them back when they were your sisters age.

Unfortunately, they just share a look of worry then mask it up with a smile and tell you that your far to young to know.

On one hand its a blessing being a child of one of the Zoldycks greatest accomplishments...on the other...it's a curse.

_______________________________

Asking those older didn't seem to work out well, and you were weighing your options on asking your second older sibling, he's usually outside, fiddling with a drone he built, to gaze at the world outside and scope out where he'll go next.

Ultimately you decided to approach him and ask the question. "Why isn't it safe outside the mansions security?" Its an innocent question overall, maybe switching it up a bit will get them to answer.

He glances at you from over his shoulder and grunts a response. "What did dad tell ya?" you furrowed your eyebrows in frustration. Him brushing you off like you're a bother doesn't help answer your question.

"Come ooon...tell me." You said, somewhat demanding but also putting in a hint of annoyance in there as well as you pull at his sleeve.

"No way! If dad already told ya then forget it, go play over there or somethin!" He says as he moves his sleeve away from you and points over to a tree a few steps away from you with a frustrated expression..

Glaring up at him you huff but shrug as you stuff your little hands in your pocket and go over to the tree he pointed you towards. 'Stupid brother...' you think to yourself as you kick a rock. Its frustrating not being told anything.

Then, as you kicked the rock again you noticed something...it's small but you see something odd in the corner of your eye a weird figure, black floating all around it, little specks of green and yellow...since it's so far you can't see much else so you ignore it.

Your focus is not being able to figure out what's really outside the mansion walls, you want to know.

__________________________

'A curious lil thing' is what your uncle gon would always say, maybe it was because you were curious. It was why you were running from your nanny to the front gate right now.

Both parents out, your oldest sister on a trip of sorts with her friend and your brother in his room somewhere.

You've thought about it many times and honestly, when you get to the gate...climbing it seems like the best option, and you throw your caution into the wind.

You know you can climb this even at your age you've climbed higher trees. So you hoist yourself up and look back to see how far behind your nanny is, and you hear her call out your name but her voice leaves an echo behind, you giggle and continue up the wall.

It doesn't take long for you to make your way completely over and you take a look around, its...more forest? No worries, you keep running, curious about what lies ahead of those trees.

"(NAME) please! Come back it isn't safe!" You hear your nanny call out for the upteenth time but can only giggle as yyou keep running, your childlike delight and innocence not picking up on the danger you were about to be in.

You take a few turns here and there, until suddenly something feels...off...the playful atmosphere you had just moments ago replaced with something...scary...

Running comes to a halt, and you take a look around as to where you are. Your arms at your side and hands balled up, you don't recognize it.. the trees are taller...much taller than you remember, and when you look up all you see is leafs...covering everything.

"Huh..? Nana Misa?" You stand up straight and call out,, as you try and retrace your steps from where you are, but something about that feels wrong too.

Its not until you feel a pit in your stomach, your heartbeat picks up and ththere'a sudden shortening in your breathing that you quickly turn around...and there's some...stranger...

Very long, black hair, as black as the night sky...probably darker than that. Skin painfully pale, almost as pale as snow...and those eyes, they're pitch black and they remind you of a fishes eyes...

You once again, stand up straight your hands out of your pocket now stuffed inside them again as you look up at the strange man. "hey...who are you?" You question with a tilt of your head, despite that unnerving feeling you got from him earlier.

He stares at you, those unblinking eyes seem to stare into your soul as he doesnt say anything for the longest time.

"You're just like him..." The strange man speaks, and his voice is smooth like butter but just as unsettling as his appearance, its like looking at one of those creepy characters from a scary movie your oldest sister use to watch.

"Hey! I asked you a question!" Despite your fear you try and mask it with false confidence and a demanding tone.

"I won't make the same mistake twice..." A large hand attatchef to one of his long lanky arms reached out to grab you, and it was like you just froze.

What is this..? This feeling? You can't move, you know you should jump back,, swat his hand away, bite, kick, scream do something to prevent him from grabbing you but you can't. Your brain screaming for you to move away but your body isn't responding.

Its like you're in a trance...a terrible...terrifying trance that's taking over your entire body, freezing it in cold unexplainable fear...

"GET AWAY FROM HER!" A shout, a familiar voice snaps you out of that trance, and you see her, who you believed to be your savior.

"Nana! Nana Misa!!" You don't know what happened but all of a sudden you felt your body and your mind get back in order,, and you dashed over to her, hot tears rolling down your face as you rushed to her and gripped onto her dress, burying your face into it and smudging tears all over the white cloth.

Her hands made their way to caress your head, gentle, warm, comforting and overall protective. Its so familiar, you were always being protected and now is no different...

"Oh...An obstacle... How unfortunate..."

Except it is different.

The man from before, you turn your head to look at him. That tone, nothing behind it but evil...its so scary...you want to look away, but when you feel your nanny's hands begin to tremble, you look up and see her face painted with the same fear yours was, the only difference is that she has some resolve.

"Please...(Name)...run..." her voice trembles....you had never heard her voice tremble before up until now, and it only intensifies your fear

"Nana...?" A crack...there's a crack in your tone, from confident to worry...you've never heard her usually soft calm kind voice tremble, you've never seen such a look of fear in her eyes, sure you've seen concern or worry but never...fear...not like this.

"I said run!" A sudden yell from her and you look up in surprise. She yells at you, not once breaking contact with the man with fishy eyes.

You try to protest, but she shoves you to the side when he steps forward. From there on it all happened so fast... you didn't even have time to run.

"Stay away!!" You hear her yell out, watching the scene in slow motion as she takes a dagger from her sleeve, and raises it above her head, in preparation to strike.

The man however just stand there...those fishy eyes...standing there...watching her as she prepares to slam the blade down upon him.

Why can't you move?

In an instant, he walks past her, and your nanny stops. She stops and doesn't move for awhile, before suddenly she falls to her knees, eyes wide tears at the sides threatening to spill, her lips parted and her eyebrows still furrowed...

Then all you see is red...

Dark red...crimson...it spits from her neck...when did he cut her? it spills out like a sprinkler on the sink, like thick water it spurts from her neck and her entire body jolts around limply.

You stare on horrified, not even noticing the man approach you, not hearing him..let along seeing him reach out to grab you.

The blood spurts from her neck for what feels like hours, covering the once green grass beneath her and painting it red...her body jolts around aimlessly before it slumps limp to the ground with a sickening thud.

Loose pink hairs fall over her pale face, dark red blood drips from her once pink lips and her uniform, the once white apron now dirty with what could be blood and mud.

You can't speak...you can't move, you only look on hopelessly as she lays there...watching her hand twitch...once...maybe twice before nothing...

"I won't make the same mistake twice..."

Then a cold feeling overwhelmed you, a cold feeling of someone grabbing your arm, their grip was rough, not even bothering to handle you with some gentleness like your father and mother or even uncle gon. Its not warm like them or Nanny Misa. Its cold and rough,but you can't move or even resist as it begins lifting you up.

You hang there like a rag doll as you stare at the corpse, the corpse of someone you cared deeply for, like she was an extension of your mother, an aunt of sorts. now just a corpse and through that unnatural coldness...you fell warm tears fall down your face...

"Nana...Nana!!" Your voice echoes, but not enough,, it cracked and you reached out to the body but it was too late.

It was too late for anything, because that strange man was already on the move, running with you like some rag doll, carelessly like you were less than a human.

He stops infront of a car, a limbo, its long and black, pitch black like his eyes and hair, and as you sob he sighs like he's frustrated with it and throws you in the car and climbs in himself..

"Oh a crier, how dreadful...~" another voice says with an odd tone, expaserated and dramatic.its just as unsettling as the other man who threw you into the car.

You can't see through your blurry eyes and the heavy tears that fall out of them,but you can tell that it's a long drive...a long... draining drive because the one who called you dreadful made hints at shutting you up for good. The man that kidnapped you however immediately shut it down.

Eventually the car did stop, and it was time to leave the car, which threw you into a big hysterical fit. You kicked your legs, swung your arms and screamed and cried as the man tries to find an opportunity to grab you..

"Your struggling is useless." That cold voice points out as he grabs your arm and yanks you out the car, forcibly dragging you through what seems to be the woods.

Your sobbing doesn't stop, like you're hoping your parents will hear you, uncle gon, your sister...anyone... maybe you had even hoped the man would have some mercy and return you.

However as they kept walking and there was yet another heavy sigh from the other man with the off voice you figured that it was much too late to be returned.

A loud creak could be heard then a slam, the immediate feeling of a cold breeze hit your face and if you weren't scared before you definitely are now..

Your cries get louder, echoing through the halls as the man holding your hand firmly simply walks, his heels clicking against the hardwood floors, dangling you above the ground from his height alone.

Then it stops. Another loud creak of a door as he lifts you up by your arm to make eye contact with him but your too scared, still crying. He sighs.

"Since you won't calm down ill have you stay here until you stop being so hysterical." His voice blank and empty of any sympathy as he tosses you in the room.

You land on the cold hard floor with a loud thud,, your body throbs in pain as you snap your head up and look to the door,, you quickly stand up run over only for him to slam the door shut, a loud bang following.

"NO!" You scream out, scratching at the door, twisting and yanking at the knob, and you even went as far as to slam your body against it..

In the end however...nothing worked... jt just left your little body sore and you're heart torn to pieces as you realize you can't get out... and you were back to where you were before, sinking to your knees, sobbing as you call out to anyone who could help...your father...your mother...uncle gon...your sister...your brother.

The thought of never getting back home...it brings you to your knees as you sob loudly for them, hoping they'll come...come and take you home..

^___Bonus! ^-^________^

Letting out a heavy sigh, Killua slumps back on the side of the ship he and his wife boarded, a trip back home after a weeks work of work. It was exhausting but going home to see his kids would be pretty rewarding, he brought gifts back as well.

His hair grew in the back so he pulled it into a low pony tail but other than that the front remains the same. He looks out into the distance and suddenly his eyes twitch a bit.

"Something...feels wrong..." he mumbles under his breath, but he doesn't know what...not yet at least.

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