Daichi, Tanaka, Sugawara , Iwaizumi, Kuroo, Kenma, Lev, Hinata, Bokuto, Oikawa, Sakusa, Atsumu, Osamu,

thinking ab bf kiyoomi who has a hair tie of urs on his wrist & will tie up ur hair 4 u when u eat

bf kiyoomi who reverses the car w one hand and rests the other arm on your shoulders, his middle finger idly tracing your shoulder blades

bf kiyoomi who hates seeing you sad , and immediately knows when you are, bending to meet your eyes and whispering ,” what’s up ?” with the most tender look in his eyes

bf kiyoomi who pretends to be stoic with his friends, but when you meet up with them one day they can’t help but gawk at their 6’4 scary dog buddy giggling at you

bf kiyoomi who loves how small you are compared to him because he wants you to feel safe

bf kiyoomi who gets mad butterflies when you show him attitude and hand his sarcasm back to him

bf kiyoomi who adores when you give him butterfly kisses on his neck

bf kiyoomi who has deep, sweet dimples that no one but you has seen. he tries to cover his mouth when he laughs, but when you told him you loved it, he never did it again

bf kiyoomi who keeps a copy of you birth certificate, passport , id, diploma, anything, because ‘i cant trust you to keep it now can i?’

bf kiyoomi who feels heat rise to his cheeks and his vision get hazy when you hold his hands and brush your lips against his knuckles

bf kiyoomi who cries at your wedding because ‘ no one ever had the patience to put up with my uh,, particular habits. ‘

bf kiyoomi who appreciates your patience and love for him- showing it in the most endearing ways

bf kiyoomi <333333

♯┆𝐅𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐓 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟐 .ᐟ — 𝐁𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐆𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: After one unforgettable shoot with Bakugo, you’re left unable to finish with anyone else—on or off camera. He’s the only one who’s ever made it real. When you run into him at a party, the sexual tension explodes, leading to a filthy, passionate reconnection that neither of you can shake.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: MATURE CONTENT 18+ Explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), face riding, fingering, public sex, overstimulation, squirting, rough sex, degradation + praise, light dom/sub dynamics, breeding kink references, creampie, soft aftercare, strong language, alcohol mention, sex industry themes.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 8.2k (omg)

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄

You haven’t cum in weeks.

Not on set. Not in the shower. Not with the $300 vibrator your manager sent as a “self-care” gift. Not even with that one video you shot with Keigo—the one that used to always do the trick.

Nothing works anymore.

Every orgasm you fake now feels like a cheap knockoff. Just muscle memory. Fake moans, fake trembling, fake gasps as the camera zooms in on your face like it’s catching something real. You used to be good at this—great, actually. Made your name off it. You could sell pleasure better than anyone. But now?

Now it’s all broken.

Because Katsuki Bakugo had the audacity to actually make you finish. Not once. Not twice. But over and over until your voice was hoarse and your legs wouldn’t stop shaking. And the worst part wasn’t even how good it felt—it was how real it was. He didn’t just make you come, he pulled it out of you. Like he knew exactly what buttons to press, what noises made you unravel, what rhythm would keep you teetering right on that edge. And then he’d tip you over it like it was nothing.

And ever since then?

Every other guy has felt like cardboard. Even the good ones. Even the pros. You tried not to be obvious about it on set, but your heart’s not in it. Your body’s not either. You’re back to acting, and that just makes it worse. Because now you know what it’s like to actually feel it. To lose control. To not have to fake it.

He ruined you.

And you hate him for it.

Kind of.

Maybe.

You dream about him. That same low, hungry growl in his voice. The weight of his hands on your thighs. The way he looked at you after the cameras cut, like he knew. Like he’d figured you out and wasn’t gonna let you forget it.

And you haven’t.

You still haven’t.

Which is why this fucking party is the last place you want to be.

You stand outside the mansion in heels that and a dress that hugs you like sin, arms crossed and jaw clenched. Your manager’s text is still glowing on your lock screen:

Be nice. Good networking. Smile.

Yeah, whatever.

Keigo’s place is massive. Of course it is. He’s been in the industry since forever, and he’s got that kind of charm that makes people want to party with him. His invite list is basically the who’s who of adult film, plus a few influencers trying to act like they belong. You hate these things. Too loud. Too fake. Everyone pretending to be friends, pretending they don’t judge each other for who they’ve worked with or how many followers they have. It’s all for show.

Still, you walk in. You know how to play the game.

The place is packed. Low red lighting makes everything look softer, sexier. Music pulses through the floor, the bass low and smooth. You’re barely through the front door before someone offers you a glass of champagne. You take it and downs half in one go.

A few people wave at you. A few others eye you up and down, probably checking who you came with. You fake a smile, offer a nod, and keep moving. You’re not here to socialize. You’re not here to flirt or network or play nice.

You’re here because your manager told you to be.

You end up leaning against the edge of a fancy-ass velvet couch, letting the music drown out your thoughts. The champagne doesn’t help much. Neither does the way some guy you vaguely recognise is trying to start a conversation with you, talking about some upcoming project and how “you should totally collab.” You tune him out.

And that’s when it happens.

You feel it before you sees it. Like something in the air shifts. Like static on your skin.

Your spine straightens. Your fingers tighten around the glass.

And then—there he is.

Across the room. Leaning against the wall like he owns the place. Dressed in black, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, rings glinting on his fingers. Blonde hair messy in that perfect, careless way. His eyes scan the crowd, bored and sharp all at once.

And then they land on you.

The breath catches in your throat. For a second, the music fades. The party disappears. It’s just him.

Bakugo.

His eyes narrow just slightly. Like he’s surprised to see you here. Like he’s not surprised that you look this good.

He pushes off the wall.

Starts walking.

Right toward you.

Your heart is beating way too fast. You hate that it is. You want to look away. Pretend you don’t care. But you can’t.

Because even now—especially now—your body remembers exactly what he did to you. The way he touched you. The way he looked at you. Like he wasn’t playing a part. Like it was real.

And worse—you know he remembers, too.

He stops in front of you. Doesn’t say anything at first. Just look’s at you.

Up close, he looks even better than you remembers. Like he’s been working out more. Like he hasn’t lost a second of sleep over you even though you haven’t stopped losing it over him.

“Didn’t think you’d be here,” he says finally, voice low and scratchy.

“Didn’t think you’d be,” you shoot back, arms still crossed. Your tone is cool, but your pulse is sprinting.

He smirks. That same damn smirk that used to drive you crazy. Still does.

“Keigo dragged me,” he says. “Said it’d be good to ‘be seen.’ Whatever the fuck that means.”

“Sounds familiar.”

You stand there in silence for a second. The air between you is thick. Heavy. Loaded.

He tilts his head slightly, eyes drifting down to the drink in your hand. “You good?”

“Peachy.”

“Mm.”

Another pause.

Then he leans in—just a little.

“You fake it again today?” he asks, voice barely above a whisper.

Your breath hitches. You hate that he knows. Hate that he’s right.

You don’t answer.

He chuckles under his breath. Not mean. Just… smug. Like he knew it. Like he never had a doubt.

“I did,” you admit finally, voice tight.

He steps in just a little closer. Not touching you. Not yet. But you can feel the heat coming off him. The way his presence wraps around you like a damn trap.

“You try with someone else yet?”

You swallow hard. Your eyes flick away.

He already knows the answer.

“No one’s been good enough, huh?” he murmurs.

You wants to slap him. Or kiss him. Or both.

Instead, you down the rest of her champagne in one go.

He watches you the whole time.

Still smirking.

Still standing way too close.

“Why are you here, Bakugo?” You asks, voice low.

His eyes drop to your lips. Then back up.

“Maybe I missed you.”

He says it so casually.

Maybe I missed you.

Like it’s no big deal. Like he hasn’t completely wrecked your life and walked away with a goddamn smirk.

You set your empty glass down, not caring where it lands. Your heart’s still hammering in your chest, but it’s not nerves—it’s need. Hot and bitter and building in your gut like it’s been waiting for this exact moment.

You don’t look away. Don’t soften. You just say it—because fuck it. What’s the point in pretending anymore?

“I haven’t cum since you.”

His smirk falters. Just a little. But enough.

“I’m serious,” you add, stepping closer, voice low. “Nothing works. Not my hands. Not toys. Not other guys. I film a scene and fake it like always, but it’s worse now. So much worse. Because now I know what it’s supposed to feel like.”

Bakugo’s jaw tenses. His hands curl slightly at his sides, like he’s holding himself back.

You lean in, close enough that your words are only for him.

“You ruined me.”

His breath comes out sharp. Controlled—but barely.

“You think I don’t know that?” he mutters. “You think I haven’t been fuckin’ losing it, thinking about that day?”

He looks down at you, eyes dark and burning.

“You were the best thing I ever had in front of a camera. Fuck—probably the best I’ve ever had, period.”

Your stomach flips. Heat flashes under your skin.

“Every time I close my eyes,” he goes on, voice getting rougher, “I see you. Bent over, whimpering, beggin’ for it. You remember that? The way you sounded?”

You swallow, throat tight.

He leans down, lips brushing just behind your ear.

“Do you remember how wet you were when I spread you open?” he whispers. “How your thighs were shaking so bad I had to hold you down?”

Your knees nearly buckle. You grip the edge of the couch behind you, the only thing keeping you upright.

“I remember,” you breathe. “I can’t stop remembering.”

His nose grazes your jaw, not quite touching your mouth, but close enough that the air feels electric between you.

“I jerked off to that shoot so many times I lost count,” he says. “Watched it back with the volume turned all the way up. Had to bite my fuckin’ fist just to keep quiet.”

Your thighs press together. Everything in you is throbbing.

“I tried,” you say, voice barely above a whisper. “I tried to fuck it out. Tried to touch myself. Tried to forget it.”

Bakugo pulls back just enough to look at you, eyes heavy, lips parted.

“And?”

You shake your head slowly. “Didn’t work.”

His chest rises and falls a little faster now. You can see it. Feel it.

“I need you,” you say, honest and raw and a little unhinged. “Not even just your cock—you. The way you touched me. The way you talked to me. My body remembers you like muscle memory.”

He groans, low and quiet, like it slips out without his permission.

“You know what that does to me?” he mutters. “Hearin’ you say that? Standin’ here in that tight little dress, legs pressed together like you’re already aching for it?”

You don’t answer. You don’t have to.

“You want me to remind you what it feels like?” he asks, stepping in close again. His hand hovers near your hip, not touching, but so close. “Want me to bend you over that couch right now and make you scream my name again?”

Your breath shudders out of you.

“You want me to tell you all the things I’d do to you if we weren’t in the middle of this fuckin’ party?”

You nod. Slow. Deliberate.

“Say it.”

You look up at him, eyes sharp. “I want you to ruin me again.”

His control shatters for half a second. His tongue runs across his teeth. His hands twitch at his sides like they’re desperate to grab you.

“You want my fingers down your panties, feelin’ how wet you are just from talking to me?”

“Yes.”

“You want my mouth on your neck while I tell you how I’m gonna fuck you so good you’ll forget every other name you’ve ever moaned?”

“Yes,” you whisper, voice wrecked.

“You wanna know what I’d do to you if I dragged you into one of those empty rooms upstairs?”

“Tell me.”

He leans in again, mouth right at your ear, his breath hot and filthy.

“I’d eat your pussy until your legs give out. I’d make you ride my face until you’re crying. And then I’d bend you over the bed and ruin that tight little cunt all over again. No cameras. No crew. Just you, screamin’ my name into the pillow like you need me.”

You whimper. Actually fucking whimper. Your knees almost give out.

He pulls back just enough to look you in the eyes again, and his voice drops to a growl.

“Tell me to stop, or I’m taking you upstairs right now.”

Your eyes burn into his.

“I’m not telling you shit.”

He grabs your wrist—gently, but with purpose—and starts walking.

The music fades behind you as you two leave the main room, his fingers wrapped around your wrist, warm and rough and so sure. It’s not forceful—never forceful—but it’s firm. Intentional. Like he knows exactly where he’s taking you, and you’re not even thinking about stopping him.

You follow.

Of course you follow.

The air in the hallway is cooler, quieter. Dim lights line the walls, casting long shadows, the bass of the party now just a distant thump behind closed doors. Every step echoes in your ears. Your heels click against the tile, but you barely hear them. All you can feel is his hand. His grip. The burn of his touch where your skin meets.

He’s walking fast. Focused. Like he’s barely holding himself together.

But then—he pauses.

Right in the middle of the hallway, without a word, he stops. Still holding your wrist, but frozen in place.

And then he looks back at you.

And fuck.

Your cheeks are flushed, eyes wide and glassy with heat. Your lips are parted, and you’re biting the bottom one like you don’t even realize it. Your breath is shallow. Your chest rises and falls way too fast. And you look—

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath.

It just hits him all at once.

The image of you like that—flushed, dazed, following him willingly down some dim hallway in a dress that barely covers your ass. Your mouth red from chewing on your lip, eyes shining like you want to be devoured.

It’s too much.

It’s way too much.

Bakugo turns around in one sharp move and pushes your back against the wall.

You gasp, more out of surprise than anything, and your back hits the cool plaster with a soft thud.

He doesn’t give you time to speak.

His mouth is on yours before you can breathe.

It’s not gentle. It’s not sweet. It’s a claim.

His lips crash into yours like he’s starved. Like he’s been dying for this. His other hand finds your waist, squeezing tight, pulling you flush against him until there’s not an inch of space left between your bodies.

And fuck, you melt.

You kiss him back with just as much heat, fingers curling into the front of his shirt, tugging him closer like you want to climb inside him. His mouth moves against yours with wild precision—like he knows exactly what you need and he’s giving it. All tongue and teeth and soft, filthy groans that vibrate against your lips.

His hand slips down to your hip, gripping tight. Your back arches. You moan into his mouth when his tongue brushes yours, and he growls—a low, guttural sound that sends heat straight between your thighs.

He pulls back for just a second, breathing hard.

“Been wantin’ to do that since the fuckin’ shoot,” he mutters, voice rough and wrecked.

You grab his shirt tighter, dragging him back in.

“Then shut up and do it again.”

And he does.

He kisses you like he needs it to survive. Like your mouth is the only thing that’s going to keep him sane. His hand slides up, fingers brushing under the edge of your dress, just a taste of skin, and you gasp into his mouth. He swallows the sound greedily.

Right now, it’s just him and you and all that fucking need you’ve both been drowning in for weeks.

Your hands are in his hair now, tugging, and he groans like you’re driving him insane. His lips trail down to your jaw, your neck, kissing and biting and licking like he wants to leave a mark—something real. Something that says mine.

“You feel that?” he growls against your skin, grinding his hips against yours. “That’s what you fuckin’ do to me.”

You whimper.

“You think I haven’t been aching for this? You think I don’t wake up hard, pissed off, because it’s not you under me?”

“Bakugo—”

“Say it,” he growls. “Say you missed me.”

“I missed you,” you breathe. “So fucking much.”

He grabs your face, tilts it up, and kisses you again. Harder. Deeper.

He’s losing it. Right here, in the middle of some stupid hallway, with your hands on his chest and your mouth so fucking soft and perfect under his.

Fuck he was gonna wait. He really was.

One more hallway, maybe two. Find a room, lock the door, throw you on the bed and wreck you the way you’ve been dreaming about. But then his hand drifts lower, just a little. Just enough to feel the hem of your dress under his fingers. His palm slides up, slow and sure, bunching the fabric higher and higher until—

He groans. Loud. Filthy. Like it physically hits him.

“No fuckin’ panties?”

You flinch, just a little. Lips parted, eyes dark.

“Were you expecting something to happen tonight, baby?” he breathes, voice thick with heat. “You showin’ up like this just for me?”

You don’t answer.

You don’t have to.

Bakugo presses his forehead to yours for a second, breathing hard.

“Goddamn,” he mutters, voice low and ragged. “You’re my dirty little whore, aren’t you?”

You whimper.

“You come to this party all dressed up, no fuckin’ panties, already wet for me…”

His hands are on your thighs now, spreading them just a bit. Your backs against the wall, breathing like you just ran a mile.

“You wanted this,” he growls. “You needed this.”

And then—he drops to his knees.

Just like that.

Right there in the middle of the hallway.

The air leaves your lungs in a gasp. Your back hits the wall harder this time, legs shaking, heart pounding in your throat.

“Bakugo—” you hiss, panic in your voice. “Someone could see—!”

He looks up at you, eyes dark and fucking wild.

“Baby,” he says, voice calm and sinful. “You’re a pornstar.”

He licks his lips.

“Let them see.”

And then he’s between your thighs.

One of your legs stays planted on the ground, barely holding you up. The other—he lifts and hooks it over his shoulder, gripping tight behind your knee with one hand, keeping you open for him. Exposed. Spread. His other hand pins your hip to the wall like he’s afraid you’ll float away.

Then—

Then his mouth is on you.

He groans the second he tastes you, like he’s been dreaming of this moment. Like the taste of you is everything he’s been starving for. His tongue is hot and greedy, licking through your folds, lips sealing around your clit as he sucks, hard, and you cry out, hand flying to his hair for balance.

“F-fuck—Bakugo—”

He growls against your pussy, the vibration shooting up your spine like lightning.

“Been thinkin’ about this pussy every fuckin’ day,” he mutters between licks. “You taste even better than I remembered.”

Your head falls back against the wall with a soft thud, mouth open, chest heaving. You can’t breathe. You can’t think. All you know is his mouth—his tongue flicking and licking and circling your clit just right, dragging slow, wet moans from your throat that you couldn’t fake if you tried.

His fingers dig into the back of your thigh, holding you still. Your other leg trembles, barely keeping you upright. Your dress is bunched around your waist, forgotten, as he devours you like a man possessed.

“You hear yourself?” he growls, voice muffled against your soaked cunt. “You hear how fuckin’ wet you are?”

“Y-yes—fuck—”

He flattens his tongue against your clit and drags it, slow and firm, and you nearly collapse.

“You gonna cum for me like this, baby?” he asks, licking up your slit, tongue dipping in like he wants to taste every part of you. “Gonna make a fuckin’ mess on my face?”

You’re nodding, eyes wide, lips parted in silent gasps. Your hand’s gripping his hair so tight it must hurt, but he doesn’t care. He loves it.

“Thought about this every night,” he mutters. “Me on my knees. You fallin’ apart. No cameras. No crew. Just me eatin’ you out like it’s the only thing I’m good at.”

And it is.

God, it fucking is.

Your thighs are shaking. Your stomach’s tight. You’re right there, and he knows it.

So he goes harder.

Sucks on your clit like it’s the only thing keeping him alive, tongue flicking fast and filthy, relentless. Your legs nearly give out.

You scream his name.

And then you’re gone.

Your orgasm hits like a truck, ripping through your body as you cry out, nails digging into his scalp. Your leg twitches in his grip, your body writhing against the wall as you cum for the first time in weeks—for real.

Bakugo doesn’t stop. Not until he’s sure you’re done. Not until he’s sucked you through every last wave, tongue gentle now, soft little licks that make you squirm from the sensitivity.

He pulls back, panting.

His chin’s shiny. His lips are swollen.

And he looks fucking proud.

“Goddamn,” he mutters, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “You taste like fuckin’ heaven.”

You can’t speak. Can barely breathe. Your legs are jelly, your face flushed, your dress still hiked around your hips.

And he’s still on his knees.

Looking up at you like he owns you.

Like he always has.

You’re still trembling.

One leg weak, back still pressed to the wall, dress bunched around your hips and mouth parted in a breathless, wrecked little gasp. Your head’s spinning, body soaked in sweat and pleasure, but it’s not enough. Not for him.

Bakugo stays on his knees for a second longer, just staring up at you like he’s watching the aftermath of his own destruction—and loving every second of it. His jaw’s tight, eyes wild, chest rising and falling with every ragged breath.

Then he moves.

He rises slowly, all smooth, deliberate heat, and crowds you against the wall again, towering over you. His hand slips behind your neck and pulls you in, and his mouth crashes into yours—hot and messy, all tongue and teeth and need.

You moan into it. Loud. Desperate.

He doesn’t give a shit if anyone hears.

His tongue sweeps into your mouth, making you taste herself. He kisses you like a man obsessed, like he needs you in his lungs to fucking breathe. His hands are everywhere—sliding over your hips, your ass, up your back, gripping tight like he’s trying to memorize the shape of you all over again.

“You feel what you do to me?” he growls against your lips.

You whimper when his hips roll into yours, and fuck—he’s hard. So fucking hard it feels like it’s about to tear through his pants. Thick and heavy and ready, pressed right up against your soaked heat.

Your whole body jolts at the contact, and suddenly something shifts in you.

You’re not just trembling anymore—you’re burning. You grabs him by the front of his shirt and pushes off the wall, stumbling forward on shaky legs.

“Where’s the room?” You pant.

He grins, drunk on the sound of you.

“End of the hall. Second door.”

You don’t even wait.

Bakugo catches your wrist again as you try to walk, sees your knees still unsteady, and without saying a word—he scoops you up. Hands under your thighs, body flush to his, carrying you like you’re light as air.

You gasp. “I can walk—!”

He growls, “Don’t care.”

He carries you like you weigh nothing, like you belongs in his arms. Your legs are still trembling from the orgasm he just pulled out of you in the hallway, but your hands never stop moving—gripping his shoulders, playing with the hair at the back of his neck, dragging your lips along his jaw just to feel him shiver.

He kicks open the door, steps inside, and shoves it shut with his foot. The lock clicks.

He sets you down—not on the bed. He pins you against the wall again, just for a second, breathing hard, eyes locked on yours. His hands are all over you, sliding down your body, squeezing your hips like he’s still trying to convince himself you’re real.

And you’re looking up at him with that same fucked-out, fire-in-your-veins look that’s been haunting his dreams since your shoot.

And then—slowly—you start to sink to your knees.

His breath catches.

“Wait,” he mutters, chest heaving, “you—fuck—what’re you—”

You’re already looking up at him through your lashes, fingers tugging his belt loose with quick, desperate movements.

“You ruined me,” you say, voice low and dangerously sweet. “Let me return the favor.”

Bakugo swears under his breath as you pull his cock free—hard and leaking, twitching in your grip. Your fingers wrap around him, slow and teasing, and he shudders.

And then your mouth is on him.

“Fucking hell,” he chokes out, his hand flying to your hair, not pushing, just holding, gripping tight like it’s the only thing keeping him upright.

Your lips wrap around the head, tongue swirling in slow, wet circles, tasting him like you’ve been waiting for this moment since the second the cameras cut. You slide down his length, inch by inch, until your lips are stretched around him and your throat is already working to take more.

“Jesus fuck, baby—”

His voice is raw. Wrecked. You moan around him and his hips jerk.

“Just like that,” he groans, jaw tight. “That’s it. My perfect fuckin’ mouth.”

You hum, sending vibrations through him that almost make his knees buckle. Your hand strokes what you can’t fit, your spit coating him, dripping down your wrist. You’re relentless—pulling off to lick the tip, spit pooling on your tongue before you sink back down again.

Bakugo’s head hits the wall behind him with a soft thud. His eyes flutter shut, mouth open, breathing hard.

“You know what you fuckin’ do to me?” he growls, voice shaking. “You know how many nights I’ve jerked off thinking about you like this?”

You pull off, slowly, dragging your tongue up the underside of his cock as you go.

“Tell me,” you whisper.

He grabs your jaw, tilts your face up toward him, cock resting against your cheek.

“I’d picture this mouth every fuckin’ time,” he breathes. “Your lips all shiny, tongue out, eyes begging. Just like this.”

You moan and take him back into your mouth deep, throat fluttering around him, and he loses it. His hand tightens in your hair as his hips stutter forward, fucking into your mouth once, twice—then forcing himself to stop.

“Fuck—stop,” he groans, pulling you off with a shaky hand, even though it kills him. “Gonna blow if you keep that shit up.”

Your lips are swollen, spit dripping down your chin, eyes glazed and smug.

“Good,” you purr.

He yanks you up off the floor and spins you, pushing your back toward the bed.

“You wanna ruin me?” he growls, voice low and filthy. “Let’s see if that pretty little cunt can finish the job.”

He manhandles you onto the bed like he owns it.

Like he owns you.

You land on your back, dress still hiked up around your waist, thighs spread open without shame. Your chest is heaving, lips wet, eyes locked on him like he’s the only thing you see.

And fuck—he might as well be.

Bakugo shrugs off his shirt in one smooth pull, muscles flexing, abs on full display, veins in his arms popping from how hard he’s holding himself back. His cock’s still out, thick and leaking, twitching with every step closer.

“You sit there lookin’ like that,” he growls, crawling up onto the bed, “and expect me to take it slow?”

You grin. Daring. “I don’t expect you to do anything except ruin me.”

He laughs—dark and mean—and grabs your ankles, dragging you down the bed until your ass is right at the edge, legs hanging off, wide open for him.

“You’re fuckin’ insane,” he mutters.

And then he’s on you.

One hand hooked under your knee, pushing it back toward your chest, the other lining himself up. His eyes are locked on your soaked cunt like it’s the only thing he’s ever wanted. The tip of his cock brushes your entrance, and you both moan.

“You feel that?” he mutters, dragging it through your folds, teasing your clit. “You’re fuckin’ dripping for me.”

“Need you,” you gasp, already trembling again. “Bakugo, please—”

“Please what?” he growls, leaning over you, tip just barely nudging inside. “Say it.”

“Please fuck me.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice.

He slams into you in one deep, smooth thrust, burying himself to the hilt. Your back arches off the bed, mouth open in a silent scream as he stretches you—thick and deep and perfect.

Bakugo groans, eyes rolling back. “Fuck—this pussy missed me, huh?”

“Yes—fuck yes—”

He pulls back and thrusts again, harder this time, making the bed creak under you.

“I can feel it,” he pants. “The way you’re squeezing me. Your cunt’s starving for it.”

His pace builds—relentless, deep, every thrust angled just right to hit that spot that makes you sob. One of his hands grabs your throat, not squeezing, just holding, thumb brushing over your jaw like he owns you.

“You like that, baby?” he growls. “You like bein’ fucked stupid?”

You nod, gasping, eyes rolling back. “Yes—yes, fuck, harder—”

He gives it to you.

Hips snapping into yours, the sound of skin on skin echoing off the walls, your moans getting louder, messier, realer. Your nails drag down his back, your thighs locked around his hips as you cling to him like you’re about to fall apart.

“Gonna cum for me again?” he mutters, leaning down, forehead pressed to yours. “Gonna cream on my cock like a good fuckin’ girl?”

“I—I can’t—” you whimper.

“You can. You will.”

He reaches between them and rubs your clit—fast, tight circles—and you scream.

Your entire body locks up, and then you break.

You cum hard, legs shaking, mouth open, nails digging into his shoulders. He doesn’t stop—keeps fucking you through it, eyes locked on your wrecked, blissed-out face.

“Goddamn,” he grits out. “You’re fuckin’ unreal.”

His thrusts get rougher, deeper, like he’s chasing the edge—but then, suddenly, he pulls out.

You let out a broken whine, head thrown back against the mattress, body still twitching from your orgasm. Your pussy clenches around nothing, fluttering in the absence of him, wet and ruined and aching for more.

“N-no,” you gasp. “Why’d you—why’d you stop—”

Bakugo’s hovering over you, chest heaving, every muscle in his body tight like a live wire. His cock is soaked, twitching as it rests against your thigh, flushed and throbbing with the need to be buried again.

“Could’ve fucked blown in that pretty pussy just now,” he growls, voice wrecked. “But I’m not done with you yet.”

He leans down, kisses you hard—filthy and deep, tongue licking into your mouth like he owns it. When he pulls back, his voice is rough, laced with heat and control.

“Don’t wanna cum yet,” he pants. “Wanna watch you fall apart again.”

His fingers trail between your thighs, sliding through the slick mess he left behind. You gasp, hips twitching, eyes rolling when he pushes two fingers into you without warning—slow and deep.

“Still so fuckin’ tight,” he mutters, voice low as he watches your face twist in pleasure. “So wet for me. You like bein’ stuffed full, huh?”

You nod frantically, legs spreading wider, hips grinding down into his hand like you’re starved for it.

“Good,” he says, curling his fingers just right, pressing into that soft spot that makes your legs jump. “You’re gonna cum on my fingers now.”

“*Fuck—Katsuki—”

“Yeah?” he smirks, eyes locked on where his fingers disappear inside you. “You close again, baby? Didn’t even give you a break.”

He keeps rubbing your clit with his thumb, fingers stroking in and out slow and deep, dragging slick sounds from between your thighs that make him groan under his breath.

“You’re so fuckin’ messy already,” he says, voice tight. “Look at you. All wrecked for me.”

You sob, head tossing back, hand fisting the sheets.

“Cum again,” he whispers, mouth brushing your ear. “Wanna feel you squeeze my fingers. Wanna make a mess before I fuck you proper.”

And you do.

Your body jerks, thighs clenching around his wrist, another orgasm ripping through you so fast and hard you nearly scream. Your cunt pulses around his fingers, clenching down with each wave, slick gushing down to his palm as you trembles through it.

Bakugo watches you lose it, feels your walls fluttering around his fingers, and his cock twitches, aching with the need to be back inside you.

But not yet.

He pulls his hand out slow, dragging it over your swollen, soaked folds, and brings his fingers to his mouth.

Sucks them clean.

“Sweetest fuckin’ thing I’ve ever tasted,” he mutters, eyes never leaving yours.

You look wrecked—eyes glassy, chest heaving, lips parted like you’re still trying to breathe.

He leans in, kisses you slow, and lines himself up again.

“You ready for more?” he murmurs against your lips.

You nod, barely able to speak.

He smirks, voice dark and low.

“Good.”

He slides back into you slow. Painfully slow.

His cock pushes in deep, stretching your ruined cunt all over again, and he groans at how wet, warm, perfect you still are—even after two orgasms and his fingers inside you. You’re flushed and boneless beneath him, lips parted, hair stuck to your face, eyes barely open.

Cockdrunk.

And he knows it.

He watches your face twist as he sinks in fully, his hips flush against yours, but doesn’t move.

Just stays there. Buried to the hilt.

You whine.

He pulls back, just a little.

Thrusts again—slow, deep, teasing. Like he’s savoring every inch. Your walls flutter around him, still clenching like you can’t let go, and he groans through gritted teeth.

“You feel that?” he pants. “How tight you still are?”

You nod, whining, legs twitching.

He does it again.

Slow.

Deep.

Unbearable.

You cry out, hips jerking up toward him, trying to chase more—anything—but he holds your hips still, smirking down at your wrecked face.

“Aw, what’s wrong, baby?” he coos, breathless. “Not enough for you?”

You whimper. “Suki—”

He grins. “Tryin’ to fuck yourself on my cock now?”

And you are—rocking your hips up in tiny, desperate motions, your hands gripping the sheets, voice a string of needy little noises that go straight to his dick.

“You’re such a desperate little whore,” he groans. “Can’t even wait for me to fuck you proper, huh?”

“Suki—please—please—”

Your voice is high, slurred, half-sobs and gasp, like you’re not even forming real words anymore. Your cunt squeezes him so tight he nearly loses it.

“Oh my fucking god,” he mutters, shaking his head like he’s in pain. “You sound so fuckin’ wrecked—‘please, Suki’—you know what that does to me?”

You nod, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. “Need it—need you—need more—please—”

And then he snaps.

His grip on your hips tightens, and he slams into you.

No mercy. No hesitation.

Just filthy, hard, deep thrusts that rock the bed against the wall.

You scream, your hands scrambling for something to hold onto, but there’s nothing—just his body, his cock, him, pounding into you like he’s trying to bury himself in your soul.

“You want more?” he growls, voice wrecked. “Take it. Take every fuckin’ inch.”

You’re so loud now—moaning with every thrust, your back arching, body jerking with the force of it.

“I—I’m cumming—” you cry, body locking up again, cunt fluttering like you’re gonna break.

But he doesn’t stop.

He won’t stop.

“Yeah, baby? Already? Barely even started.”

Your third orgasm crashes through you like a wave, soaking him all over again. Your body trembles under his, and still—still—he doesn’t let up.

He grabs your legs, throws them over his shoulders, and folds you in half.

Then leans forward.

His body presses into yours, hands braced on either side of your head, his cock now driving in deeper than ever before, dragging against your walls in a way that makes you sob.

The angle is brutal. Relentless.

You gasp—eyes wide, mouth falling open. Your whole body freezes.

“Suki—!” You squeal. “Wait—wait—I think—I think I’m gonna pee—!”

He knows.

He fucking knows.

And the second you say it?

Bakugo groans. Loud. Wrecked. Ferally turned on.

“Oh fuck, baby,” he pants. “You’re gonna squirt for me?”

You’re panicking now, overwhelmed, the pleasure too much, too fast, building into something different.

“I—I can’t—Suki—Suki—!”

“Yes you can,” he growls. “Let it go. It’s okay. Fuckin’ do it.”

And you do.

Your body jerks once—twice—and then you scream, back arching off the bed as a gush of slick explodes from between your thighs, soaking both of them, soaking the sheets. Your legs shake violently. Your pussy clenches and flutters and gushes, and he pulls out just in time to watch it all.

“Holy fuck—” he groans.

He’s panting, cock dripping, and you’re still shaking, still coming, body twitching like you’ve been electrocuted.

He doesn’t even give you a second.

His hand dives down, fingers rubbing your clit fast—tight circles, no mercy.

“Gonna make a mess all over me, huh?” he pants. “Gonna soak my fuckin’ cock next?”

You’re sobbing, overwhelmed, body still spasming as more slick gushes out of you, squirting again, harder, soaking his hand and the sheets and your thighs.

“You’re such a dirty fuckin’ slut,” he groans, mouth open, watching you fall apart. “Look at you—fuckin’ look at you—”

When you finally start to come down, body trembling, tears slipping down your cheeks, Bakugo grabs your hips and slams back inside.

No pause.

No recovery.

Just more.

More of him.

He fucks you through the overstimulation, pounding into your soaked, sensitive pussy, growling every time your cunt clenches around him.

You’re babbling again, sobbing out moans and whines, brainless.

He’s close now. So close. His thrusts get sloppier, deeper, hips stuttering.

And then—

You grab his face, eyes barely open, voice slurred and high and ruined.

“Cum inside me,” you beg. “Please, Suki—want it inside—need you to fill me up—please—please—”

His whole body locks up.

His eyes roll back.

And he blows.

“Oh fuck baby, yes yes yes, FUCK—!”

His cock pulses inside you as he empties out, the hardest orgasm of his life, ropes of cum shooting deep into your twitching cunt. He groans through his teeth, forehead pressed to yours, body shaking as he keeps thrusting, slow now, drawing out every pulse, every drop.

You moan at the feeling—full, warm, messy.

“You take it so fuckin’ well,” he pants, kissing you hard. “Made for me, baby. Fuckin’ made for this.”

His cock finally softens inside you, and he collapses onto your chest, both of you panting, soaked in sweat, slick, and cum.

You’re trembling. He’s still groaning.

And neither of you can speak.

Bakugo’s chest is still heaving as he lowers himself onto his elbows, careful not to crush you. His cock slips free, spent and messy, and you wince from the overstimulation. He’s already watching you—eyes dark, but softer now. More present.

“You okay?” he murmurs, brushing sweat-damp hair from your face.

You nod slowly, eyes fluttering shut, voice hoarse. “Yeah… just—holy shit.”

He lets out a quiet, breathless laugh and presses a kiss to your forehead. “Yeah. No kidding.”

You’re still trembling beneath him, body twitching with aftershocks. Your skin’s flushed and glowing, your chest rising and falling fast, and for a moment he just stares. Watches you breathe. Watches you try to come back to yourself.

He reaches for the edge of the bed, grabs the nearest towel—probably Keigo’s fancy ass silk robe or something, who cares—and gently wipes between your thighs. You twitch, gasps softly, but doesn’t stop him.

“Sorry,” he mutters, voice low. “I know you’re sensitive. Just wanna clean you up a bit.”

His touch is careful. Gentle. Like you’re made of glass now, even though he just had you screaming his name with your legs over his shoulders.

You watch him through half-lidded eyes. “Didn’t think you’d be the sweet type after railing me like that.”

He smirks, eyes flicking up to yours. “Shut up. You’re lucky I didn’t pass out.”

He finishes wiping you down, tosses the towel to the floor, and climbs back onto the bed beside you. One arm snakes around your waist, pulling you into his chest. You hum and bury your face into his shoulder, breathing him in.

It’s quiet now.

Just the sound of your breathing. The faint music still thumping somewhere in the house. His heartbeat under your cheek.

Bakugo presses his lips to the top of your head and holds you close.

“You really didn’t wear any panties tonight?”

You giggle sleepily. “Hoped you’d be here.”

His chest rumbles with a laugh, but there’s something else in it too—something warm. Dangerous.

“Next time,” he murmurs, voice low, lips brushing your temple, “just tell me what you want.”

You shift, just slightly, enough to look up at him.

Your voice is quiet.

Real.

“You,” you whisper. “I want you.”

He stares at you.

Heart pounding.

And says nothing.

Because there’s nothing left to say.

A few months later you’re standing outside.

The air is warm. Quiet.

No cameras. No script. No fake moans echoing off studio walls. Just the sound of a car pulling away from the curb, leaving behind nothing but soft tire tracks on the gravel and a sudden, still silence.

You exhale.

It’s done.

Your manager waved goodbye with glossy eyes and a box of farewell cupcakes like it was some emotional graduation ceremony. And maybe it was. A part of your life—the biggest part—is officially over. No more lights. No more contracts. No more “one last scene” promises.

You’re out.

Retired.

And free.

Your fans had been devastated, of course. The internet flooded with edits, fanpages posting heartfelt tributes, DM requests piling up asking if you were okay, if you’ll ever return. But you were calm about it. Because you had made your money. More than enough. Enough to buy three lives if you wanted. Yours, your future kids’, and their kids.

And for the first time… you didn’t feel like you owed anyone anything.

The gravel crunches under your feet as you walks up the driveway of your new house. It’s not huge. Not flashy. Just a little white-brick home with a cracked front step and windows that let the morning sun spill inside. There’s barely any furniture yet. The walls are still too clean. But you open the front door and walk in anyway, because it’s yours.

You walk through the living room. Kicks off your shoes. Run your fingers along the kitchen counter. There’s a faint smell of fresh paint and wood polish and something warm. Like home.

And then—warm arms wrap around your waist.

You’re startled for a second.

Until he nuzzles into the side of your neck, all soft breath and scratchy stubble, and you relax instantly.

“Hey,” Bakugo murmurs against your skin.

You let out a breathy laugh. “You scared me.”

He hums. “You’re the one who snuck in without saying hi.”

“I live here,” you tease.

“Hey,” he says. “We live here.”

His arms tighten around your middle. His hands are calloused and warm, and he smells like clean linen and cedarwood shampoo. He presses a lazy kiss to your shoulder and then another behind your ear.

“You know,” he says, voice low and teasing, “we gotta christen all the rooms.”

You snort. “You’re horrible.”

“Yeah, but you like it.”

You turn in his arms, facing him now—barefoot and smiling, cheeks warm, heart full.

Because this is the part no one saw coming.

After that night at Keigo’s house—after the hallway, after the bedroom, after you whispered “I want you” like it was the most honest thing you’d ever said—Bakugo was done.

He left the industry the next day.

Didn’t tell anyone at first. Just walked off set, deleted the shoot schedule, and never looked back. He didn’t need the job. Didn’t want it. Not if it meant being surrounded by people who weren’t you.

He pursued you properly after that. Not with half-assed flirty texts or casual hookups. He showed up for you. Asked you out. Cooked for you. Slept next to you, not just with you. You thought it would feel weird—awkward, even. But it didn’t.

It felt easy. Natural. Real.

You left the industry a week later. For yourself. For him. For whatever this life was becoming.

Now?

Now you’re here.

In a half-empty house with your names on the mortgage and a stupid list of furniture you still need to buy, and for the first time in forever, you feel like you can just breathe.

Bakugo kisses you softly. Just once.

Then he smirks.

“Bedroom’s still got space on the headboard for scratches.”

“Bakugo.”

“What?” he shrugs, already lifting you up by the thighs. “I’m sentimental.”

You laugh, cling to him, and let him carry you down the hallway, your new life unfolding behind every door.

Your bedroom’s bathed in soft afternoon light when he pushes open the door with his foot.

It’s nothing fancy—white walls, wooden floors, a tall dresser with half the drawers still empty. The bed’s made, kind of, one corner of the blanket folded back like it’s been waiting for them. A single mug sits on the nightstand. Your side.

He lays you down gently, like you’re something delicate. Like he hasn’t already had you screaming into his pillow a dozen times since you moved in.

You pull him down with you, fingers hooked in the collar of his shirt.

Your mouths meet in a slow, lazy kiss. It’s not heated or rushed—it’s warm. Familiar. The kind of kiss you only give to someone when there’s no performance behind it. No pretending.

Just love.

He crawls over you, one hand braced beside your head, the other on your hip, thumb brushing circles into the soft skin there. You exhale against his lips, smiling.

“You gonna make good on your promise?” You tease, eyes fluttering open.

“Which one?”

“‘Christen all the rooms.’”

He grins, teeth and cocky heat.

“Yeah,” he says. “Thought I’d start with this one. Seems the most important.”

Your heart thuds. You try to act unbothered, but his weight on top of you, the way his hand slips under your shirt, palm warm on your stomach—it makes your stomach flutter.

“But we’ve already-,” you laugh, running your fingers through his hair.

“Shut up,” he mumbles into your neck, kissing there slowly. “I know.”

You laugh.

“You make me crazy,” you whisper.

His mouth stills.

He pulls back, looking down at you.

And there’s something in his face that wasn’t there before.

Something quiet. Serious.

“I think about it,” he says softly. “The future.”

You stare up at him, breath caught.

“You ever do that?”

You nod, slow. “All the time.”

He leans down, presses his forehead to yours.

“I want it all,” he murmurs. “With you.”

Your hands slide up his back, feeling every tense line of muscle under your palms. You pull him closer. Your noses bump. Your lips brush.

“Me too.”

He kisses you then—not playful, not teasing. Just real. Long and deep. Like he’s telling you something in a language only your mouths understand.

When he pulls back, he whispers against your lips, “I love you.”

You exhale and smile. “I love you too.”

His hand slips between you, fingertips ghosting down your stomach, between your thighs. He touches you like he’s got all night. Like there’s nowhere else you need to be. Like loving you isn’t something he wants—it’s something he needs.

You gasp softly, hips shifting under his touch.

“You always get like this when you talk about the future?” You whisper.

He laughs quietly. “Only with you.”

Your thighs part for him. You’re already wet. Already aching.

“Then don’t stop,” You breathe.

He doesn’t.

He makes love to you slow. Hands in your hair, forehead pressed to yours. No loud moans. No biting. No rush. Just the steady rhythm of your bodies moving like they were made to fit.

After, you lay tangled together, half under the blankets, half on top of each other. Skin warm. Hearts steady.

He runs his hand down your spine. You hum.

“Hey,” he murmurs after a few minutes.

“Mm?”

“If we ever have a kid,” he says casually, “we’re not naming them after Keigo. I don’t care how much that bastard tries to bribe us.”

You bark out a laugh, pressing your face into his chest. “I wasn’t going to!”

“He’s already been hinting. You know he has.”

“I’m naming our first kid after someone normal, like—Ida or something.”

Bakugo looks physically pained. “Absolutely not.”

You laugh until your stomachs hurt, until your eyes sting with leftover tears, and then he kisses you again—slow and sweet.

“You really want all that?” You ask later, voice small.

He nods.

“You and me,” he says. “Little monsters running around. A house full of loud shit and chaos and love.”

You bite your lip. “And a couch that doesn’t suck.”

He smirks. “Yeah. That too.”

You fall asleep like that. Wrapped up in each other. Wrapped up in something soft and real and permanent.

Something that, for the first time in both your lives, has nothing to do with being watched.

And everything to do with being seen.

-

TAGS <3

@2elusional @cosmicaoii @kizsuki @kodzubaby

a stray puppy girl followed me home ?! part 2

office worker toji x stray puppy girl

as promised some of the puppy girl's pov:

stray puppy girl who was excited to go on a trip with her owner! her owner said they are going somewhere new, and they would even be using the car!

stray puppy girl who is a bit confused as to why she isn't wearing her collar to go out, and even more confused when her owner tells her to wait in the alley so they can buy some treats.

but stray puppy girl doesn't go outside often, so how could she know what pets normally do when they wait for their owners?

stray puppy girl who is watching the sky become dark. she's getting a little hungry waiting for her owner to come back. she peeks out of the alley. she doesn't see them there, but maybe she will just have to wait a little longer.

stray puppy girl who finds a scrap of cardboard to curl up on behind the dumpster to try and sleep. it's a little scary at night and she doesn't know what could be out there.

stray puppy girl spends another day waiting in the alley, worried that her owner isn't coming back to get her. sometimes people walk past the alley, or the convenience store employees throw out rubbish into the dumpster. stray puppy girl wants to ask them somehow, but she doesn't know that many words and her owner told her she wasn't allowed to talk to strangers.

so stray puppy girl marinates in her worry and hunger, holding onto the fluff of her tail as she crouches on her cardboard scrap. occasionally, she catches a whiff of food from the sealed bags. she's hungry now, tummy rumbling every now and then.

stray puppy girl who waits until it's dark and no one is around to try and lift the lid of the dumpster bin, not wanting to be seen doing something so bad. she hoists herself up, wedging her little body between the lid and the edge of the dumpster. she's reaching for a bag, just a few inches out of her grasp. but it's far enough that she loses her balance and tumbles right in, lid slamming shut.

stray puppy girl who's scared of how dark and cramped the inside of the dumpster is. it's just like her time out cabinet for when she's been naughty. in a panic, she knocks against the side of the dumpster, before remembering no one will be there to let her out.

stray puppy girl who is shocked when the lid opens a few moments later. her savior looks big and strong, even being able to lift her out! stray puppy girl who thinks he smells clean and comforting. his hand is warm against the top of her head and he speaks to her gently. there's a scar on his lip, which she thinks means he's strong.

stray puppy girl who can kind of understand he doesn't want her, but he saved her from the darkness and that must mean something! so she follows him from a distance, peeking behind walls and plants until they reach his home.

stray puppy girl who's worried she got caught following him and is crouching down against the stair railing, stomach filled with butterflies. stray puppy girl who hears him talking. she doesn't understand all the words but "clever pup" doesn't sound like "bad dog" and "get in" must mean she can go to him, right?

stray puppy girl who can barely contain her excitement as she rushes up the rest of the stairs. she wants to be as close to him as possible, rubbing her face into him and filling her head with his scent.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

continuation from pt 1:

toji had always found his bathroom small, but it seemed with the two of them inside it was more cramped than usual. he wasn't really sure how to wash a hybrid, most owners could probably afford to take them to the groomers. but the puppy girl was human enough, he figured it wouldn't be that different.

"right," he said, beginning to run the bath. "yer ever had a bath before?" the puppy girl peered out from behind him, slowly wagging her tail. she nodded with a sound of affirmation. "not much of a talker, are you?" he asked, turning around. the puppy girl cocked her head to the side, confused. toji knew hybrids had the ability to talk, they had all the parts and pieces to and it was a key part of their companionship appeal. maybe she didn't have the training to, or was still shy. he guessed it wouldn't hurt to see if she could say anything.

"my name's toji," he said, pointing to himself. "what's your name?" the puppy girl tugged at the hem of her shirt, staring at the tiles. "you don't have to say anything if you don't want to." another beat of silence. then, barely over the sound of the water he heard her squeak out "p-puppy," while pointing to herself. was it her name? or was she just telling him her species? he supposed he could figure that out later. "alright then, puppy, let's get you washed off, eh?" he turned off the tap and tested the water, a bit on the cooler side but wasn't sure if hybrids were more sensitive to the heat.

now for the difficult part. except for a few specialised features, in this case ears and a tail, hybrids were mostly the same as humans. it was why hybrids were also required to dress up appropriately if being walked in public. did hybirds feel the same way about nudity as humans? he'd prefer it if he could just tell her which bottles to use, but based on how she fell into the dumpster he wasn't sure if she'd be okay on her own. he turned around and almost fell backwards. puppy, anticipating the bath, had already discarded her socks and panties on the tiled floor, and was in the process of pulling her shirt off over her head.

toji immediately averted his eyes to the ground. "shit, okay just wait a second," he splutters, tearing his eyes away from the exposed dip of her waist and curve of her chest. her feet came into his field of view and she made a noise of confusion. he kept his eyes glued to the floor. "alright, i'll help you in, okay?" the quicker she was sitting in the bath, the better. she grabbed onto his hand - toji's now hyperaware of her soft skin - and he helps her step into the bath, lowering her into the water. "now turn around," he says, feeling the top of her head to make sure her ears are facing away from him. she lets out a small giggle once she's seated.

the rest of the bath is relatively uneventful for the most part. toji lathers up shampoo into the puppy girl's hair, careful to avoid her ears. she leans into his hands, pressing her bare back against the bathtub. she also watches toji as he teaches her how to use the loofah, tilting her head back with wide eyes. to her confusion he avoids looking down at her when she does this, unaware that the water doesn't do much to hide her chest.

toji's eyes are glued to his phone while she washes off, listening to the gentle splash of the water as she moves about. his phone buzzes and an email from his manager pops up. he's about to roll his eyes until he skims over the contents. "due to a gas leak in the building... no need to come into work tomorrow... paid leave until the issue is resolved." toji is silently elated. nothing beats the feeling of paid leave. distracted by the good news, he's caught off guard when a wet and warm body collides into his back, soaking his shirt and letting him know that puppy was done rinsing off.

to the puppy girl's delight, toji lets her dry herself off with his towel in the bathroom. he takes the opportunity to change out of his now wet clothes into some lounge wear, and digs out a shirt and some boxers for the puppy girl to wear in the mean time. i'll have to take her shopping tomorrow, he notes, at least so she has something to wear at home. dressing the puppy girl is relatively easy, her energy slowly wearing out. his shirt looks comedically large on her, but she does look cute and small sitting obediently by the edge of the bathtub, hair wrapped in a towel (toji isn't sure if a hair dryer would be too loud for her ears), and he makes sure to gather her old clothes into a trash bag to throw out in the morning.

it's after this ordeal toji's dinner is finally spinning in the microwave. the puppy girl sits at the kitchen counter, swinging her feet as he pours hot water into some cup noodles. he was pretty sure one high sodium meal wouldn't hurt a hybrid, "i'll getcha something better tomorrow, this'll have to do for now", he tells her and is met with a head titled in confusion. its almost 2am by the time the two take their first bite out of their meals. as the puppy girl scarfs down her meal, toji's glad they waited just an extra while longer so that he was sure she wouldn't burn herself. she seems happy though, despite the subpar nutrition, and he can see her tail thumping against the back of the seat. when they're done, he leaves their utensils in the sink and he shows her where to put her rubbish.

stomachs full, though his beers will have to wait for tomorrow, toji guides her to the bedroom. he watches the puppy girl tunnel under sheets, catching short, muffled whines as she settled down. normally, he wasn't exactly shy about having a woman in his bed, but the puppy girl seemed barely aware of any social norms he began to wonder if he should sleep on the couch. the puppy girl peeked out from under the blanket. "to-ji," she said, "s-sleep now." the words stumbled out of her mouth, unpracticed and layered with sleepiness. from her cocoon, she reached out one hand and gestured to the pillow. "yer sleepy puppy? want me to lie down too?" asked toji. she nodded. "alright, be good though, no kicking or hogging the blanket." he could tell she wasn't so sure by what he meant, but let out a happy whine as he got in bed beside her.

as toji drifted off to sleep to the sound of the puppy girl's even breaths, he vaguely realised the heat of her pressed against the side of his body was comforting after an exhausting day of work, and that maybe things wouldn't be so bad after all.

that's part 2 finished! i just wanted to say thanks so much for everyone's support with part 1, i hope you enjoyed part 2 <3 i think i will do one more part for the "main story", but will continue to post tidbits expanding on this in the future!

i haven't decided on what to name this puppy girl just yet, i know setting one might take away the reader immersion, so should i just leave it as y/n in the next part?

also toji might seem a little scared of women in this chapter but i promise he's just trying to figure out how owning a puppy girl works + i want to present a softer side to him, especially if he's just working as a simple salary man.

thanks for reading <3

⁺　 ୨୧ . ᕀ SUGARSTREAM ♡ | ˚｡꒰ gojo satoru x female reader ᨀ ꒱ minors do not interact ᨀ w.c 9.2k˓˓ explicit smut, camgirl!reader, fanboy!gojo, virgin killer!gojo, cherry chasing, sex toys, anal play, candy play [ gojo fucks the reader with a lollipop ], virgin kink, corruption, teasing, cum play, age gap [ gojo is 33 + reader is in 20s ], fingering, masturbation, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, dumbification, praise, orgasm control. ˚｡ SUMMARY ᨀ gojo satoru has a big sweet tooth, an insane amount of money to spend on his favorite camgirl and most importantly, a dick that corrupts innocent girls for life.

gojo satoru has a big sweet tooth.

he can always be seen ordering a frappuccino with five pumps of caramel syrup and extra whipped cream at starbucks, showing up to morning training with an entire platter of chocolate dipped berries, or suckling a tootsie pop with obscenely inappropriate noises during important meetings because the components in sugar stimulates his brain, giving the right amount of rush someone like him needs to keep sane.

his credit card is most swiped at sweet shoppes and random souvenir stands that sell his favorite melon sugar cubes, or the zunda and cream kikufuku he likes so much.

because his appetite for the sweeter things in life is insatiable.

that's why it isn't a surprise he developed a craving for you. he's always had a greedy taste for doe-eyed young women and you happened to be exactly his type. saccharine smile, giggly laugh, and a head full of bubblegum. ijichi kiyotaka's sweet little apprentice who skipped through the halls eating strawberry hi-chews for lunch instead of proper meals, wearing tiny little skirts and rootbeer flavored lip gloss just to torment gojo into wanting to lick it onto his tastebuds.

pure and lovely, you've become his favorite sugar rush.

and with the help of pop culture and social media, he can have a sample before he finally buys the product.

RECENT TWEET FROM @xoyoursweetenerxo: i'll be streaming in 10 mins wearing new lingerie! come take a peek at pixelme.jp/sweetener

that's the alert that begins gojo's unraveling, rolling into his notification center. his heart kicks up an irritating notch when he flips his phone over in his hand and reads your username on the screen. he can feel the curious eyes of his three former students on his back as they trail him down the hall, but he has tunnel vision and cotton ears, their incessant chatter echoing in one ear and out the other.

“gojo-sensei, did you hear anything i just said?” megumi snaps, his annoyed tone barely registering.

“i heard a rumor that he finally has a girlfriend now, that's why he's always so distracted,” nobara gossips into yuuji's ear, the two casting a long, knowing glance at their mentor.

“so it's like that?”

“it's like that.”

“what were you saying?” gojo asks distractedly, lifting one side of his blindfold to unlock his phone, bringing up the twitter app. his main account loads first and he spares a single glance to nanami's weekend vacation update, two for tsukumo straddling her motorbike in hokkaido, and none for aoi ranting about takada's dating rumors at the top of his timeline.

he never hears megumi's reply because he's too busy switching to his private account, an empty lurker with a black photo. eager to click your profile.

tonight's stream invitation is pinned at the top, decorated with pink hearts but he ignores that for now. making sure to hold his phone at an angle his nosy ass kids can't peek at, a long pale finger swipes up to bring the scroll down to a spam of grwm selfies you just posted, a ritual before your streams. you're cute as a button in each one, but it's the last one— on hands and knees, ass pointed to the camera—that makes him groan, the sound covered up by an exaggerated sneeze.

“um, gross!” nobara screeches at him, folding her arms and leaning away. “you sounded like a middle aged dad.”

satoru stops his long stride suddenly, masking his irritation by reaching into his pocket for his wallet, flipping the leather open for a spare credit card. he hands it to kugisaki with a pat on her head, grinning when she slaps his hand down and pockets his card without question.

“you know what? mission’s canceled for tonight!” he cheers, already heading in the opposite direction, shooting finger guns. he's eager to get away from his kids and to his office where he can concentrate on your stream. “go out without me and have fun!”

he waves off their confused looks, disappearing in a flash. attention glued to his phone like a teenaged boy. the sorcerer feels his cock twitch to life in his pants the longer he stares at your picture. you're wearing a skater dress that barely covers your plump ass, giving your twitter followers a tease of soft skin and cute stretch marks on the back of your thighs.

he knows that if he wants to see more, like the devastating visual of your slit spread around your favorite dildo, he'll have to join the stream and tip up.

not many people know about your other life. the angel who brings in sponge cake and iced coffee each morning to gojo, who shyly refuses to meet his stare whenever he walks into the room, unable to stand the intensity of his flirtations, is a camgirl with views high enough to land you in the top rated tab. people tipped you good and in return, you let them control your pleasure.

and gojo satoru is your biggest fan.

he hadn't been stalking when he found out. he'd just been passing by one of the staff rooms with the intention of terrorizing ijichi and found you instead, boldly streaming from your phone, whispering i bought my first vibrator! should i try it at work?

those annoying hot girls in your area, click for more! ads weren't needed because gojo had never made an account so fast.

and if he tuned into your grainy stream from his office, cock shamelessly fisted in his hand as he watched you push your panties to the side, phone camera positioned in an upskirt shot of you struggling to fit the small, vibrating toy inside your tight little cunt? mind your business.

he unlocks the door to his office now, shutting himself in before he clicks the streaming link, letting his phone redirect to the site so he can log in.

username: honoredone89 password: hollowedout28

"is the stream stable? hi, welcome! we'll get started soon."

the sound of your airy, girlish voice rings out from his phone as he falls into a leather lounge chair. you're streaming from your room this evening, dressed in frilly and frothy lingerie and a pair of lacy thigh highs, sitting up on your knees on a bed draped in a white gossamer canopy.

rosy led lights wash out the pretty tone of your skin in a soft pink glow, selling your sweet and innocent image. gojo figures that's why you're so popular— you feed right into their desires to turn out girls like you, drawing them in like worker bees to honey.

“how's my apprenticeship? it's going so good, thank you!” you answer a comment from one of your regulars, waving shyly at the viewers pouring into the virtual room.

“this won't be a long stream since i have to wake up early tomorrow, but...” you prattle on, leaning forward to check the viewer count. gojo's attention is drawn to the plump swell of your breasts in your bralette. god, he wants to run his lips all over the lace so bad; tonguing and biting over your nipples through the flimsy fabric until they're bitten raw. “while we wait for more to join, what did you boys do today-”

“ah, shoot. i almost forgot!” you gasp, twisting around to lean out of the canopy; opening the drawer on the nightstand.

as you rummage around, bent over, you accidentally allow your fans to admire the panties you're wearing. crotchless and lacy, the clips of a garter attached to your stockings. the backshot gives him a perfect peek at the shadowed seam of your pussy too, the little scraps of fabric on the front kissing your clit.

but more importantly, he can see the heart-shaped glass plug buried in the dip of your ass.

oh. well, when did you get that?

his tastebuds water, sweet tooth waking up for cravings. a quick decision made that he will stop holding himself back and get a taste of you, that he will be the end to your innocence.

in2feet chatted: this is boring hurry up and get naked

nakedman chatted: location? i'd fuck your ass so good kitten

it was obviously unintentional because your look of ditzy confusion is too cute when you turn around with the matching dildo, shaped like a sailor moon wand. but it ends up being the perfect way to begin your stream— tips roll in without prompting, chat pinging with comments.

“hehe, what are you guys- o-oh..” your question ends in a small sigh that makes his cock throb in his slacks. the air feels stagnant and warm in his office so he drags his blindfold down, unbuttoning the high collar of his jacket. you settled back on the bed too fast, the glass flare of the plug in your ass shifting, pushing a little deeper, twinging an unfamiliar lurch in your tummy. “t-to be honest, i've never used a plug before so it hurts a bit.”

a young starlet improvising on a mistake, you lift the wand to your lips. pastel pink tongue peeking out to wet the tip as you blink innocently at the cam. "can i put this in the other hole to distract myself from the pain?"

gojo can feel his brain rotting down to the stems.

you settle against the cloudbank of pillows, bringing your laptop a little closer to finish setting up and check the time. “before i start, i want to remind everyone that i'll only take requests from the highest tipper tonight!”

cyberme chatted: whenever you're ready, baby. we're watching!

cyberme and 10 others tipped 20 hearts

tittystan (★ tip) tipped 50 hearts

“you guys are so sweet!” the sound of the tip bell and chat alerts fill the volume of your room, drowning out your voice. lewd requests and thirsty comments begin to chime in, begging for you to remove your bra, show your pussy, play with the plug in your ass.

you have these men wrapped around your little finger, even though their hearts will be cashed out for real coins at the end of the night.

tittystan (★ tip) chatted: play with those pretty tits for us pls

“is this okay?” your impatient thumb rubs over a clothed nipple, shivering at the touch. more tips fumble in and gojo can see you build the confidence you need to push your bralette down, tucking it under the curve of your breasts so they spill right out.

fuck... he can't help but imagine his large digits replacing yours, dragging the calloused pads of his thumbs over your nipples until you cry and his thirsty ass can drink up your tears.

satoru shifts, leaning back in his barcelona chair as he reaches down to press the heel of his palm to the swelling bulge of his cock at the same time you squeeze one of the fleshy globes into your hand, a soft whine whistling past your clenched teeth.

jacker82 (★ tip) tipped 250 hearts and chatted: fuck yourself on the dildo alr!

you nod at the comment, opening your legs a bit only to snap them shut a heartbeat later. “i-i'm sorry, i'm so nervous tonight!” your teeth chew against your bottom lip as encouraging comments ring in your chat, words of praises that urges you to go further.

posessiveness burns green through his veins at the comments from other men, but he knows how to take what he wants and right now, what he wants is your attention only on him.

honoredone89 chatted: don't be nervous. i'm with you.

honoredone89 chatted: go on and open up for me.

gojo doesn't miss the glow of arousal in your eyes as you read his comment, your heart beating faster than it ever has. honoredone89... you missed seeing his comments on your streams. he felt more like a collaborator, unafraid to poke, prod, tease. the way he talks shit at you leaves you soaked and whining each time, wondering who he is; crying into your pillow whenever he'd toss down five hundred to make you cum, then throw down another five to switch up and edge you at the last minute. want me to change my mind, angel? he'd chat out and you could almost taste his smirk.

you would be lying if you said that your little crush on this anonymous person had nothing to do with him reminding you of the white-haired fox you were instantly drawn to at the start of your apprenticeship. honoredone89 could very well be one of those creeps that records cam shows to reupload to shady porn sites or a catfish. after all, his profile picture is the lower half of a (really fucking gorgeous) mirror selfie. but considering that a man like the actual satoru wouldn't return your silly, growing affections, you're fine with cosplaying.

“o-okay, sorry,” you obey him so easily, parting your knees, finally giving your fans a view of your pretty pussy in those crotchless panties. gojo should be ashamed, but he groans at the sight. you sigh as the cool air breezes over feverish skin, cooling the wetness clinging to your folds. it's why your fans love you so much— so wet during streams, no need for lube when your cute little pussy drools out the sweetest nectar no one has had the pleasure of tasting.

“look at you, sweet girl. you got any idea what you do to me?” you've barely shown anything and he feels like losing his fucking mind.

satoru should feel guilty for what he does next, but his conscious is crystal clear. mind blank and too fucking horny to think about propriety, he unbuttons his slacks. fishes his cock out to squeeze at the base, relieving some of the ache. his balls jump desperately as you slide the glass toy between your legs on the screen.

then his phone pings with a notif the moment you press the tip to your clit— a text from megumi dropping down, covering his view of the torturous circles you rub around the swelling nub. a swipe further down and you prod it against your entrance, panting out a low whine that knocks the wind out of gojo's chest, ears ringing.

“p-please let me put it inside!” you cry to the chat, noises so pretty. you'll sound even prettier when you're under him, squirming and pleading for him to fuck you until you live only for the feeling of his cock.

gojo's summer blue eyes scan over the message from megumi, ensuring his kids aren't in danger while he fucks himself off. he chokes off breathy groans so he can hear your moans, rubbing the rough pad of his thumb over the tip of his cock. muscles in his stomach twitching in pleasure as he nudges it inside the slit so clear, watery precum dribbles past his fingers to spill down the long length of his cock.

user20180407 chatted: fuck yourself already i'm so hard!

instead of gojo replying to an annoyed megumi complaining about having to go to a pachinko parlor (yuuji's idea, no doubt) with the others, he taps the tip button before he can stop himself.

honoredone89 (★ tip) tipped 1050 hearts

honoredone89 (★ tip)  chatted: just your fingers tonight, sweet girl.

"c-can i put them inside?" is your immediate answer.

honoredone89 (★ tip) chatted: nope, don't think i want you to do that.

the unhappy comments from your other viewers almost gives him more pleasure than the feeling of his palm rubbing out his cock in rough strokes.

“okay, thank you, sir,” you tuck in with a soft smile. he knows you're thanking him for the fat wad of cash in your tip jar, not him snatching away your pleasure, but the sound of the honorific from your lips sends a zip of arousal straight down his spine. the way he fucks into his hand is messy now, dragging his hand up and down his dick. precum coating his fingers white, dripping onto his slacks. “thank you for letting me touch my clit.”

he's your highest tipper and your pleasure is always in the hands of your tip jar. setting the toy aside with the hope he'll let you use it later, you open your legs until your knees touch the sheets, joints in your hips aching. reaching fingers to the opening in your panties. you're so soaked, pretty lace all darkened in spots. you spread your folds, circling your clit with two fingers.

“oooh, o-oh.. it's not enough, please let me-”

“hope y'r this greedy when i feed you my cock, princess, fuck. gonna... give you what you need soon, don't worry,” he promises to the empty air, sweating hard beneath his jacket with his hand tight around his cock. imagining that he's got you right here in his office, fucking up into your pussy as you struggle to bounce on him. on the phone, his speaker rings with your frustrated whines. your thighs tremble as you rub your clit too fast, making it sore.

a few attempt to match his price and tip him out, wanting control over your delicious pleasure; wanting you to use the dildo so they can imagine the little toy is their cocks. but unlike the cheap fucks swarming around your chat, the black metal of his bank card is limitless. there's no one that can stop him from blowing hot cash on an even hotter girl so he does. doubling your tips, tripling it down each time.

the sorcerer has plans that won't be ruined by old men escaping nagging wives and stressful jobs by twisting their dicks to the moans of pretty girls.

at the end of the night, he plans on adding another maraschino cherry to the top of his ice cream sundae.

but that all depends on you.

now when did he close his eyes? on his screen, gojo almost misses it. the prettiest sight.

“c-can i cum, sir?” you simper to your fans, to him. “fuck me. it.. it's right there. please say yes, please please!” circling the pad of your finger under the hood of your clit where you're most sensitive at, you slide a hand up your body to squeeze one of your breasts. a soft gasp pushing out to join the squish of your fingers rubbing through the wet between your thighs.

honoredone89 (★ tip) tipped 2000 hearts!

user20221030 chatted: this rich fuck is so annoying stop hogging!

gojo sounds like a maniac when he tosses his head and howls at the comment, unrestrained laughs choking off into a deep moan when he strokes down and squeezes the base of his cock. fighting off his orgasm for a torturous edge to himself.

honoredone89 (★ tip) chatted: since you can't hold it, go on and show everyone how pretty you are when you cum.

“yu-yes, sir!”

gojo wasn't lying. even the lagging connection to your stream can't dim the beauty you are when you reach your high. it burns a hole into his brain, tearing shivers down his spine as he watches the band snap as soon as you answer his comment. it's real, but you make it pretty, arching off the bed, thrashing, clamping your thighs together as you cum with strained whimpers.

reluctantly, he takes his wet cock and tucks himself away, hissing as the sensitive head presses against the zipper of his slacks.

“did you guys cum too?” you're asking shyly, ready to end your livestream. gojo cleans his hand on his blindfold with a snort at the viewers complimenting your show.

user203020 chatted: u need to block that rich dude. it's unfair. not coming back until u do

cyberme chatted: so hot, kitten. see you next time!

tittystan chatted: don't go babe i didn't get to cum yet :c

sitting up, you wrap your arms around your legs, chin resting atop your knees. your body still trembles with the aftershocks of your little orgasm, but you pull the laptop closer with a blissfully tired smile to answer questions, goodnight wishes, and thank your viewers for their support.

“thank you so much! if you have ideas for my next stream, leave a reply on twitter,” you say distractedly, tapping on your laptop.

gojo's phone buzzes with a notification shortly after and he's not surprised that it's a message sent to his account on the cam site.

xoyoursweetenerxo ♡ : hi >< you were my highest tipper!!! do you have any requests for me?

is what the message reads and gojo wears a big smirk as the cards deal a lucky hand just for him. he cradles his phone in both hands as long fingers fly over the keyboard to reply.

no more time wasted after he's blown away hours, weeks, months on the chase for you.

honoredone89: you know what? i think i do!

honoredone89 is typing . . .

honoredone89: open your door for me.

404 error: this livestream has ended!

somehow, that leads to gojo satoru standing in the middle of your room at jujutsu tech.

you'd barely had time to fix your lingerie and clear the smudges of your lipstick before a familiar rap of knuckles was at your door— the same rhythm gojo knocks against your desk each morning to get your attention.

he looks out of place standing in the frills of your pink wonderland, led lights turning pure white hair the color of blush as he glances around at your bishoujo figurines, sanrio plushies, and special edition manga volumes.

“cute,” he comments with an amused smile and points, your cheeks warming as you follow his line of vision to the sailor moon dildo sitting on your sheets, forgotten. “where's the other one?”

“h-how did you know...”

“still inside you, i take it?”

“h-how!” your reaction is adorable, different now that you're in front of him. fiddling with the ribbons of your robe, unable to watch his gemstone blue eyes darken to a deep pit of arousal when you nod.

with the feeling of a hare caught in a trap, you watch as he crosses the tiny space to stand in front of you. crowding you against the kitchenette with his imposing six foot three stature. though you want to shrink away, there is something about him that beckons you closer like the limitless, making you want to stay close to him and soak up more of his attention.

“ah, um- i bought these for you earlier today!” you blurt out to him in a hurried whisper, scrambling to reach for the decorated jar of lollipops you intended to gift to him tomorrow. “there's cream, melon, cotton candy, there's matcha too because i know you like-”

“you scared of me?” he wonders, but he accepts your distraction, plucking a cherry-flavored lollipop for himself, amused.

“no!”

he's very attractive without his blindfold, snowy peaks of hair sitting wild over his forehead. you watch as he unwraps the treat, tasting it for the first time like he's tasting you, his tongue working around it; swirling and licking it obscenely on purpose. waiting for that shift, the shameful press of your thighs even though you just had an orgasm. falling for it, you shyly avert your gaze and gojo fights down a smirk.

“there's no need to be nervous, you know,” he soothes, hooking a finger under your chin. the deep croon of his voice curls down your spine, bubbling hot desire in your tummy. "i'm right here with you."

“i-i'm not nervous!” you say, wanting to reassure him that he is welcome even though a small voice tells you to run.

after all, haven't you heard the rumors about him?

compliment him in any busy ladies room and you'll summon rumors that gojo satoru picks cherries like a farmer. that gojo satoru fucks girls high in his penthouse, only to drop them low when he ushers them to the elevator hours later. that gojo satoru—

i don't believe it, and your naive schoolgirl crush on him bats those thoughts away.

“obviously a camgirl wouldn't be nervous, silly me,” he nods, tone light and teasing. he tilts his head to the side as he reaches for you, thumb easing your silk robe apart. sensual as he pushes it off your shoulder, a shiver rolling down your spine. “did you mean what you said?”

“what do you mean?”

“in your stream,” he hums, skimming up the curve of your neck. fingernails scraping lightly over your pulse, and his cock aches at the strangled sound you make. “when you begged me to touch you, fuck you. did you mean what you said, sweet girl?”

“the tipper... honoredone89...”

“was me, yes,” he points to himself, smiling. it takes a little while for realization to dawn and he thinks you're too sweet. god, after he finishes breaking in your cunt, he wants to protect you from men like him for the rest of his life. only after, though. “expecting someone uglier?”

where you should feel mortification, you feel sticky and full of attraction for the older man in front of you. how many times did you fuck yourself on two fingers while watching couples on cam, imagining gojo was there and pressing your legs to your chest while he fucked the inexperience right out of you? how many times did you wish that snarky regular on your streams was actually him?

“g-gojo?” you call softly, peeking up at him through thick fans of lashes. twiddling your fingers together in a gesture so fucking cute, it makes his stomach churn. “can i ask you something?“

“hmm? go ahead.”

“how many virgins have you fucked?”

“why? you wanna be my one and only?” he teases, a mocking grin set on his lips. “you're really a virgin... too sweet.”

“i didn't say that! i.. it's the reason i started streaming. to learn more! it’s an experiment because i don't know how to make someone else feel good.” you're babbling, the words rushing out too quickly as you fidget and grip the hem of your robe, looking down to avoid his eyes. “will you teach me?”

“if i teach you, don’t think i’ll go easy on you,” his grin is wicked before he reaches down to ruffle your hair, as if you’re a precious little gem to him. “it’s nothing to be ashamed of, sweetness. it just means i’ll really have to put my back into it!”

putting his back into it means fucking you absolutely dumb, but you don't need to know that yet.

the way he looks at you is an awakening. with a little burst of confidence, you make your own decision; burying your fingers into the collar of his jacket, bringing him down for your first kiss. it's a little awkward with the stick of lollipop in his mouth and your inexperience, teeth and stiff lips until he takes the lead. his lips feel like clouds and you want them everywhere, want to kiss him forever. sink his soft groans into your skin, keep the taste of candy flavored spit on your tongue for the rest of your days as he licks into your mouth, coaxing feelings out of you you've never felt before; kissing you into dizziness.

“please,” you pull away, eyes begging— he only needs to be told once.

he takes it in stride, smirking around the stick of lollipop. he draws his hand down, fingers sliding under your bralette to toy with the doughy skin of your breast, rolling a nipple between two pads until the bud pebbles under his touch.

then his path switches, traveling lower and you know exactly where his hand is going. heart fluttering wildly, you whine and nervously press closer to him, hiding your face against the front of his jacket.

but you weren't stopping him, you didn't want to. curiosity coaxes your desire for gojo satoru out of its shell. the entire reason you started exploring the world of porn and cam shows, frustration and curiosity. most women your age had bloomed and blossomed. they were experienced while you felt left behind. never been taken on a date, never been kissed, never been fucked.

a clean slate for the taking.

“i wonder why you're so pretty, hm? been torturing me for months, sweet thing,” gojo nudges your feet apart, tongue pushing out the lollipop for one last suck, his lips star candy pink. making you want to kiss him again. “want to taste you instead.”

“you mean...”

“don't worry, i'll take good care of you,” he gently plucks your hands from his jacket, lowering his lithe body to the floor in a fluid motion. he props one of your thighs over his shoulder, shamelessly spreading your pussy open for him.

cheeks heated, the sight of gojo staring between your legs with a ravenous glint in his eye is too much. your hands fly over your eyes, but he's not having it; reaching up to snatch them down. “good girls keep their eyes open, don't they? how will you learn?”

he hasn't even touched you and yet, lust buzzes an ache between your hips that is driving you crazy.

“good girls deserve to know what it looks like, what it feels like to have me right here,” he continues and leans in to press a trail of kisses to your inner thigh. nips and marks along the fleshiest parts, chuckling at your quiet yips. he slides a thumb between your folds, splitting them to play with your clit. you feel like falling as he circles between your thighs, a gasp hiccupping at the base of your throat before you choke it off.

“g-gojo-”

he builds the anticipation. getting you used to the motion of something familiar before he opens your pussy for business— the sweetest dessert all for him before the main course. “so what do you think? gonna let me taste how sweet this pussy is, angel?”

“what if you don't like the taste?” you hesitate, hand slipping into the milky clouds of his hair. “i-i heard that happens.”

“trying to keep it all to yourself?” he teases, eyes shining as he crooks a smile at you. he indulges you with another feathery kiss to your thigh, his hand on your hip, caressing the skin lightly. “there's no way i won't like the taste of you. not when i have this-”

before you know it, he presses something warm and sticky to your clit, replacing his finger. when you realize just what it is, you whimper loudly.

“oh, oh god. y-you're supposed to use your fingers-”you point out halfheartedly. gojo drags the sugary ball of the lollipop against your clit in tantalizing swirls, smearing the sticky cherry syrup across your pussy and mixing it with your own juices.

“i'll clean up after myself, sweet thing,” he reassures, nose pressed to the soft curls at your mound, breathing in your heady scent before he tips his head forward to taste you. this is his favorite part- the possessive feeling in his chest once a virgin is on his tongue, knowing he's the first one to look up and see heaven above him. to hear your soft whimpers and feel the unsure tremble of your thighs.

“how does it feel? you like it?” he asks, kissing your clit with a gentle suck that tightens the muscles in your tummy. he licks against you with skill, tongue a warm wetness over your clit. the feeling gojo pulls from you is all new, butterflies between your hipbones as your cunt flutters around emptiness.

“i think i like it, sir. i-it's so-” you whine, the honorific a slip up. ashamed to talk filth to a man you're assigned to bring oversweetened coffee to every morning. it's so easy talking to the men behind your camera. they're blank faces that pay for a performance and to be soaked in the right words. in person, in front of the man who brings you alive, your tongue is tied up in the heat he licks into your throbbing pussy.

“sir, huh?” you can feel his grin spread along your lower lips, his chuckle vibrating against your skin. he stiffens his tongue for a harder lick, quick flits that bathes your clit in bubbly spit, burning pleasure into your nerves that drives you to tears.

gojo's fingers press bruises into your squishy thighs, locking you in his strong hold. he trails the syrupy sphere of the sucker down to your drooling little hole, nudging until he slowly works the candy up into your pussy at the same time he sucks your clit back into his mouth.

you choke out a wet sob, your hands pushing at his shoulders. squirming and trembling, plush walls clamping down around the hard ball of the lollipop with a wince as he fucks it in slow, his eyes focused on the way your walls slurps it inside.

nothing could have prepared you for gojo satoru fucking you with a piece of candy.

“bet your fans would love to see this,” he muses, releasing your puffy clit with a shameful pop, a trail of spit and slick connecting you to the sorcerer's chin. “you can barely handle a piece of candy. look at this cute little pussy struggling to take it.”

he can't hide his arousal when you taste this good, smacking and slurping like his last meal on earth is between your legs. you release a frustrated whine when he removes the candy, but he appeases you with his tongue— dragging the pink muscle down to curl it into your pussy, the squishy feeling of it making you squeak and grip the edge of the counter behind you.

gojo mumbles a deep groan, tastes so fucking sweet, curling his tongue in and out of you languidly, your squeaks tapering off into breathy pants. he's running out of patience, your noises shooting straight to his leaking cock, but he's determined not to rush. he wants to savor your first time. savor the sweet taste of sugar combined with the earthy flavor of you.

he has to make it good so you remember him after you inevitably come to your senses and make him leave before he breaks your heart.

his palm moves up and lands on your breast, squeezing too hard but you whine for the twinge of pain, placing your hands over his larger one. you hold him like a lifeline as he makes good on his promise of cleaning you all up— drinking down every little drop of candy coated slick until you run dry, until the wet slide against your folds is because of his spit.

“i-i'm-” the stretch of his tongue is so good, your eyelashes wet as you chase the sensation. second orgasm on the brink with his skilled mouth licking and suckling over sensitive nerves. you could end it there, cum on his tongue and let him tuck you into bed after, but you've had enough of not knowing what it feels like to be manhandled down onto a bed, kissed slow, and fucked open by his cock.

you want it to be him and no one else.

“you close?” he reels back, lapping at the entrance to your heat, a tease that makes you cry out. blues flit up to look at you, gaze soft and patient even though his desperation to be inside you has him fraying at the seams. when you nod at him, pushing your hips forward, begging, he grins. “didn't you already cum tonight? who taught you to be so greedy, hmm?”

“i-i'm s-”

“you think you can hold it for me? no, i know you can. hold it for me baby. don't cum.”

“n-no, don't! wanna cum, please please- wanna cum so bad!” but he's not hearing it. he pinches your clit meanly until the twinge of pain clouds over your orgasm, laughing lightly as you drive your fist into his shoulder in frustration, a hit that doesn't hurt him one bit.

he pats your mound with a smile but before he stands to his full height, he ghosts his sticky lips over your ankle as he sets your foot to the floor, teeth grazing the anklet you're wearing. a tender kiss that has no business making your heart flutter like that when he's so mean.

“i'll make sure of it, but right now i need you to save it for me, pretty princess. i promise it'll be so much better if you cum around my cock.” the sorcerer whispers his filth to your ear, leaving wet kisses along the shell. is it normal for your knees to be so weak? “ain't that what you wanted earlier? want something to fill your pussy up, don't you?”

you're so shivery that you hold onto gojo like your life depends on it. feeling wet and used between your legs already.

somehow, you know that gojo satoru is above what you're able to handle. he's a grown man with years of fucking under his belt and you're an apprentice parading as a camgirl who just had your first kiss. but really, it hardly matters when you want him in too many ways to care anymore.

“i want it, want it so bad, please!” you chant, prepared to get on your knees and beg for it while this otherworldly attractive man grins down at you. you feel like sobbing when he listens, circling his arms under your thighs to lift you effortlessly. legs cling to his waist as he walks the few paces it takes to reach your bed, splaying you out amongst the pillows.

“then i'll give it to you, sweet thing. but first, i think you'd be more comfortable in a familiar setting, hmm?”

he wants to film your first time.

it's filthy and you should refuse, but it's also exactly what you daydreamed of. all those nights honoredone89 watched your streams, you wished he was actually there. in front of the camera with you, back to his chest while he stretched you wide on three fingers and claimed you as his for all of your viewers to see.

you're too shy to actually let your fans watch you be fucked by someone else, but you let him hit record on your laptop, the pink camera at the edge of your bed recording a private show for your eyes only, but giving you the illusion of a livestream nonetheless. “don't pay attention to the camera until i tell you to, okay? eyes on me.”

after a small nod from you, he makes quick work of his uniform. unbuttoning his jacket to reveal broad planes of smooth ivory skin. shoving his slacks down, no underwear like you expected so his dick springs out, slapping warmth against your thigh.

it's easy to forget you're being filmed when you’re too busy gaping at him undressing. washboard abs taper off into a carved adonis belt dusted with moonlight hair. and with the eyes of a curious virgin, your gaze peeks down to his cock and it makes your tastebuds water. a perfect balance of long and girthy, the smooth tip blushing pretty and pink.

“can i touch it?” your dewy lashes flutter as you reach forward, wanting to know what the weight feels like in your hand. wanting to brush your fingers over the blue veins, maybe even dip your head down to lap up the pearly precum drooling from the head.

“nuh-uh, but you can feel it,” he sucks his teeth in reprimand, catching your hand and brushing an affectionate kiss across your fingertips. “alright, sweetheart. how do you want it?”

“i-i always imagined i'd be on my stomach,” you whisper, wanting to sink into your covers after voicing such a thing. a combination of your favorite fantasy position and wanting to hide your face from the camera.

“as you wish.”

he obliges, gripping your waist and rolling you over for him, front pressed flat into the pillowy mattress. though your hips are caged in by gojo's strong thighs, you wriggle your legs back and forth, cutely tapping his lower back with your toes.

“i-i hear it's better like this.” you mumble into the pillow under your cheek, just to get rid of the silence in the air.

he only laughs at your small talk, kissing your shoulder with care. “oh, sweet girl. i'll show you how much better it is.”

nerves flutter in your tummy at that, but you trust him more than anything— more than the women who warned you not to harbor a crush on him. he straddles your thighs, reaching into the pocket of his discarded slacks.

you hear the crinkling of a foil packet being ripped, all the air whistling from your lungs in a shaky breath as you twist around, embarrassed; catching him about to roll a condom over his cock. “w-wait-”

“cold feet?”

“no,” god, no. “i- please, you don't have to wear one of those.”

“yeah?” gojo snorts with a growing smile, but he shrugs and tosses the protection aside, caution to the wind and no further questions on it. blood rushes to his head quick now, dizzy as he draws your hips up a little until your ass bumps against his stomach. you're so easy to move, so cute and weak, like feathers under him.

his patience was lost long ago, but he's a team player. he gathers the seat of your ass against his palms, a soft peach that jiggles when he squeezes and kneads to the song of your whines, his eyes hypnotized by the jeweled plug. “you've had this in for so long, princess.” he draws a long finger down the line of your ass, tugging at the plug gently to see your hole spread. the remnants of the lube you used makes it an easy slide as he pulls it out. tossing it to the sheets.

he coos when you squirm away from him with a soft cry, hurts satoru, and he fucking loves the sound of his given name on your tongue. his thumb rubs over the puckered entrance to soothe the soreness. it would be so easy to sink his finger in, cock up next, but he'll save that for another night. “sorry, princess, i know. i'm just making room. i don't think you're ready to take both yet.. let me make it up to you.”

gojo keeps your cheeks spread, slotting his cock in the tight space between your plump thighs. he pushes the thick cockhead through your sopping folds. you can feel the milky pearls of precum smearing along your thighs and cunt with his thrusts, a wet slide right against your heat but it's not enough. “p-please-”

“f-fuck, sweetheart. how are you gonna fit me inside you? look at this.”

he's mean for teasing a virgin so much, but he can't help himself. he glances up at the recording laptop; the cam feed showing him your face pressed into the pillows, writhing all over your pretty sheets. fuck, you look so good. he's used to breaking in the starstruck beauties who flock to him, but he plays favorites now— fearing that once he truly has you, you’ll never let go of his heart, his cock.

“i don't- oh god- i don't know, but i want to try, sir,”you breathe out through your whines, the honorific only baiting him into getting your way, a true performer. “p-please let me try!”

“such a good girl, even when your fans aren't watching. if you want it, take it then. put it in for me,” he almost pleads, wanting to see that you want this just as much and you fucking do. too teased out to feel the jitters fluttering in your heart. you reach behind you, hand fumbling to wrap around his girth. skin feverish after hearing his heavy intake of breath— oh, you did that to him. satoru ducks his head to grip your chin and kiss all over your face, heated presses of his lips reserved for a lover. a distraction for you both as you guide his cockhead to nudge at the entrance of your pretty virgin cunt—

your eyes mist over, crystalline tears clinging to your lashes; losing focus after his hips sink forward. hiding your face in the sheets again, you muffle the depraved whimpers you hiccup out as gojo's cock forces your walls to spread open just for him. white heat slicking your body with sweat as you squirm under him on the bed. he's so fucking long, and he chuckles when you slide a hand down to your stomach to make sure you can't feel him there, too. he feeds you his cock slow so you feel every inch of him, bullying a spot to sit right up against your womb.

“t-too big- oh m’ god, it's too big satoru!”

“you cryin' f' me, baby?” oh, he is aching. no room in the little space your pussy gives him. he struggles to breathe, hair sticking to his forehead as he fights for his composure. he wants to treat you tenderly, break you in the right way, but you're a hot brand around his cock, sucking him in so good it drives him wild.

“s-satoru-”

“you feel that? much better than your toys, isn't it?” he kneels, pinning one hand over your back to keep you in place. “you can take it, cutie. just ease up for me a little, i've got you.”

you try to relax, eyes shut and sheets bitten into your mouth. you've never felt anything like it— the intrusion of his cock builds a pressure that none of your toys could've prepared you for. an overwhelmingly tight fit, you feel too full, in over your head. pussy staining his cock with frothy slick as he draws his hips back for an experimental thrust, an emptiness that makes you whine loudly for him to fill you up again.

“talk to me, tell me how it feels, angel.”

“o-oh- i don't... i don't know-” you gasp, leaning up on your elbows, a sensual dip in your back, the way you've seen the girls on the nsfw accounts you follow pose. the webcam films your fucked out expression and you're too cock hungry to care about it now, watching it shamelessly on the screen of your laptop.

“can't talk?” gojo taunts, digging his nails into the skin of your ass as he levels his weight into his hips and fucks forward. heavy, deep snaps that furrows your brow cutely, determined as you try your best to take him like you imagine the experienced women who are used to the oppressive force of his cock do.

“want me to slow down?” he asks softly, a little worried. after all, it wouldn't be the first time his dick knocked someone out. but you shake your head rapidly and he cackles, pairing that insane sound with deeper thrusts, sharp hipbones rutting against the back of your ass as he bottoms out again— too deep.

“wan' see your face, please 'toru, please,” you blubber into the sheets, but his keen hearing picks it up anyway. stopping is the hardest thing ever, but he pulls out; pushes you onto your back with a hiss.

“can't believe you wanna watch me break in this cute little pussy. what changed?” he goads, but he doesn't wait for your answer. “you know what to do.”

shyly, you wriggle down the bed until your hips are flush against his, reaching between the sweaty shadow of your bodies to handle his damp cock again. the stretch is no easier to take the second time, but you know what it feels like. pining for the slight twinge, the hot burn as he spreads sweet fire through your nerves. the weight of his cock fucking your pussy open in slow, teasing thrusts that leaves you whining.

“don't go easy on me-”

satoru listens instantaneously, pounding you roughly as he nips and marks your sweaty skin as his, little love bites along your neck you'll have to cover in the morning. something he never does, but call him attached to you now. “that's all you needed, ain't it? you don't want those sick fucks watching you. just wanted me to make a mess of this pretty pussy.”

“y-yes!” you cry against his shoulder and he buries his nose against the pulse point at your neck, inhaling sweet gulps of sex and perfume. a grunt kicks out of his chest as he leaves you, leaning back on his heels to fuck harder, your fingers flying to his forearms as he grips your waist, tugging you forward onto his cock to meet his thrusts.

you become a victim to his skilled fucking, to the harsh slap of his hips that a virgin has no business taking. thighs trembling up a storm, desperately trying to close as his cockhead drags along your gummy walls on the quick pull out, fucking your nerves to a red glow.

“you're so good for me, best girl. so good. keep these legs nice and spread for me so i can fuck this pussy the way she deserves.”

neither of you pay attention to the blinking red light of your webcam, too lost in the throes of good fucking. satoru can't keep his eyes off of you as you wriggle desperately underneath him. you're a mess; lips swollen and slicked with spit from your lolling tongue, hair splayed out all over your sanrio pillows while you stare up at him through teary, lidded eyes with the most fucked out look of adoration for the man pounding you, he almost feels guilty.

“s'toru.. satoru- w-will i get to cum again? it feels so- but i can't-”

he loses his final thread of sanity at your little pants and whines of his name. “some girls need it right here, d... don't they, sweet girl?” he says, stuttering when your pussy clenches him in on a good stroke. slick squelches out of you, staining your favorite sheets in a gooey puddle. it's how he knows his cock is fucking you at the right angle, brushed up against that precious spot nestled along your walls. your back arches high off the sheets when he hits it, but a big palm at your belly presses you down, refusing to let you run.

“it feels better right here, too,” he tells you, his hand shifting down. drawing sticky shapes of his initials under the hood of your sore, puffy clit— and you've touched yourself enough times to know what the feeling means. the pooling of sweet heat in your belly, the giddy waves of dopamine swirling in your nerves as a man throws you into your peak for the first time. “feel it yet? yeah you do. cum for me like a good fucking girl, make a mess of my cock like it's yours, pretty girl. give it to me.”

you're sobbing for him, clinging to him as if he can protect you from the force of your own orgasm. tears welling up in your big eyes as the knot in your tummy bursts so suddenly and you cum, walls fluttering around satoru's cock so tight it pains him to thrust through it. no thought in your pretty mind except the relentless pressure he fucks out of your body. overstimulation sets in too quick and you push at his stomach frantically as your juices splash onto the sheets, wetting all over his hand and bathing down the white trail of hair on his stomach. “i-it's too much, wait-”

“fucking.. fuck, princess- let me go or ‘m gonna cum inside you.. you're sucking me in so tight. f-fuck!” he is only seconds behind you, remembering at the last minute to draw back on his heels and pull his cock out of your weeping pussy. you're still shaking in the aftermath of the best orgasm you've ever had but he’s pinching your puffy lips between his pointer and thumb. it only takes a few rubs of his cock through your swollen folds before he whines low in his throat, grunting and tossing his head back as he spills thick ropes of opaque cum all over your pretty crotchless panties and ruined pussy.

“o-oh.. there's so much of it-” you marvel and when he opens his eyes again on the come down, hips kicking weakly now, he sees you reaching down to run your fingers through the cum he left between your thighs, pinching his sticky seed between your fingers curiously.

you're going to be the fucking death of him.

“yeah, that happens,” he chuckles with no breath in his lungs, no energy to tease you about it. he is too dignified to collapse on the bed with a softening dick, in need of a long ass nap, so he leans forward and pets the roots of your hair softly. “you need anything? besides a bath and your diary to give me raving reviews, of course.”

“i...” you start, sitting up and reaching for the closest thing that can cover you besides the stained sheets of your bed: gojo's uniform jacket. you drape it around your front, looking away to hide the vulnerability in your eyes. “can you stay until i fall asleep? you can leave after but.. i don't..”

don't be greedy, is what he would usually tell a woman asking him to sleepover after he's snatched her innocence up and fucked her into a limp. but with you, the sinking feeling in his chest, the months of pocketing your hidden smiles and shy flirtations to think about during his darkest hours, tells him only one thing: he wouldn't have left even if you asked him to.

“i'm not going anywhere.”

gojo experiences a first tonight, too. for the first time ever, he doesn't run.

instead, he stays. cleans you up with a warm towel and eases you into clean underwear, though you insist on wearing his jacket as pajamas. he even helps you change your soaked sheets ( with insufferable comments asking if he can keep them. ) you don't know what it means when a man stays after being your first, but your heart feels too warm and a little bit in lo—

“what's that sound?”

you're about to tuck into bed, ready to snuggle in safe and sound with gojo watching over you when his voice speaks up. now that your post-orgasmic haze has cleared a little, you hear it too. the quiet chime of the tip and chat bells ringing wildly from your still open laptop.

the camera at the end of your bed blinking lipstick red from its perch on the tripod.

like.boobs.97 chatted: that bastard is so lucky.

“oh... oh, no!” you squeal, scrambling to shut the laptop down, face burning with mortification. you should have checked, you should have checked. you have to help satoru with his emails in the morning, why did you trust him to click the right button?

you've been streaming to your viewers on the cam site the entire time.

“whoops,” is all gojo says, carefree and flippant as ever as he moves to stretch out across your bed like an oversized unbothered cat, drawing you against his body.

“so, you gonna introduce me as your new boyfriend or what?”

stream viewers: @atsumeii ┊ @bbyatsumu ┊@yuujispinkhair ┊@danibby

JUST ONE YESTERDAY— HANMA SHUJI

SYN: i know im bad news, i saved it all for you.

CW: dark content & nsfw. fake marriage. smoking. italics are past events. extreme violence (blood, bone breaking, weapons used, murder, etc.) if you can handle the anime you can handle this. smut. fingering. choking. unprotected sex (hate fucking, sloppy fucking, biting, hair pulling.) gun play. dacryphilia. pet names (babe. princess. little lady. sweetheart) MINORS DNI! AGELESS/BLANK BLOGS DNI!

WC: 9.5k. unedited? beta read halfway by @tetsutits. barely proofread bc fuck it, we ride at dawn <3

assassin!fem!reader + assassin!hanma

NOTE: someone tell my brain to stop coming up with ideas, i simply cannot run away. heavily inspired by: this song. this took me two days to write due to me analyzing fight scenes and other nonsense. also i suck at trying to write smut and im slowly easing myself into those waters again, so please be nice! if i missed anything in the cw tags please let me know but don’t be an ass about it :D thank you guys!

MASTERLIST

Hanma pulls out another cigarette from his pack, placing the stick in between his lips, “Babe, have you seen my lighter?” he mutters distinctively, looking down at you.

You hum out tiredly, hand patting the cup holders, the sound of the lighter bouncing around in the empty holder fills your ears. Fingers wrapping around it, you sit up and away from his chest. Your thumb rolling against the friction roll in one practiced motion, the light from the igniting flame lights both of your faces.

Hanma leans closer to you, the cigarette dangling from his lips, his eyes never leaving yours— even as he leans forward, lighting the cigarette. You swallow dryly, the gaze he held on you made your skin crawl, even after working with him for years now, he still gets you riled up.

The smell of the cigarette lingers in the air, and you grimace at the potent smell. The smoke makes your lungs burn heavily as you lazily toss the lighter back into the cup holder. You snuggle back into his neck, humming softly to yourself. He lets out a grunt, looking down at you while taking a long drag, flicking the excess ash off to the side, making sure to not get you. He knew you already hated the way he smoked but it calmed his nerves and eased his mind.

Your fingers start to trace the outline of the suit he’s wearing, his chest heaving out slowly each time he takes a drag. With one hand on your waist, his long fingers played with the rim of the black dress you had on, feeling content with how you were sitting. The both of you ignoring the beeping coming from his watch, and the ringing from his phone.

You stir lazily, letting out a groan, already wishing for this mission to be over with. You lift yourself up off of him, throwing yourself in the passenger seat.

“Time already?” you mumble out in question, letting out a sigh. Hanma hands you the gun that he held onto, his eyes on his phone.

He hums, giving you an affirmative nod, flicking the ashes off into the cup holder, “Seems so,” he breathes out, giving you a wink.

You lean into the seat and fumble for the bag as Hanma drives to the club. It felt heavy in your lap, grabbing the things you both needed for the mission. You’ve already received the coordinates along with the target that had to be eliminated. Hanma watches you from the corner of his eye, a small smirk lingering on his lips, he places his hand on your thigh, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

You don’t really remember when you started to work with Hanma, both of you coming from the same network. Freelancers took side missions that others couldn’t finish, you hated him, his stupid grin and the way he smokes like it’s nobody’s business. He was a well known man, an assassin that everyone feared and in return you were “legally” married to him for the sake of holding a story—a fake marriage that made everything look better. Many of your targets ate up the fact that the both of you played the role of being highschool sweethearts.

“Your wife?” the man says, exhaling smoke from his lungs, you watch as it wafts in the air, causing you to clear your throat.

Hanma grins, placing an arm around your shoulder, placing a kiss on your temple, “Wonderful, isn’t she?”

You gave the man a small smile, closing the gap between you and Hanma, placing a hand on his thigh. “Highschool sweethearts.” you chirp out to him, looking up at Hanma with adoration. He looks down at you, eyes glancing at the way your lips were parted and back up towards your eyes.

You are a temptress, it was your job to seduce and destroy— an irresistible urge Hanma had to mollycoddle with not caring if you couldn’t stand him. He wanted you more than anything and he slowly had you wrapped around his finger, just the way he liked.

The man rips a chilling laugh, placing the cigar on the tray. “Ah, yes, young love.” he sneers, hands quickly rummaging for the pistol he had underneath the table.

Hanma hums at the man, tipping his whiskey glass to him. “Don’t do anything stupid.” he warns, taking a sip of the rum while letting out a relaxed sigh. The man tilts his head, unsure by what Hanma meant as his hand glides over the pistol.

You smiled at Hanma, free hand grabbing the gun from your thigh holster, pointing it at the man. He yelps, a shadow of fear glistening over his face, trying to grab the pistol but you smile to yourself when you hear the weapon fall to the floor. Hanma pulls you closer with a single pull by the chin, kissing you roughly as you fire four shots at the target, ignoring the way his blood splatters around the table. Hanma slips a hand underneath your dress, rubbing your thigh causing you to drop the gun on the table.

“Security on the way! Guys!” your tech engineer yelled in both of your earpieces, you straddle his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck, fingers lacing with the strands of his hair. “GUYS!”

Hanma bites the bottom of your lip, giving you one last sloppy kiss before he pulls himself away from your touch. He looks over your shoulder, grinning widely, “Damn princess, overkill?” he whispers to you while pecking your cheek, you look over your shoulder, watching the man’s blood pool around him.

You give Hanma a shrug, sliding yourself off of him, “He kept staring at my tits.” you state in defense, getting up from the booth.

In your defense, Hanma was irresistible, a danger to you, but the way he held onto you after each mission told you otherwise. You were a trained assassin, but yet you couldn’t decipher him at all. A lost feather in the wind tumbling to the ground before being swept back off its feet, Hanma Shuji was the dancing feather in the wind and you were simply the one chasing.

A man full of mysteries, he always knew how to dodge the questions that kept you up at night, but he knew how to keep you on your toes. There has never been a dull moment with him, many called him the “Reaper” or even the “Man behind the mask.” Assassin’s were cautioned to avoid him, always taking him as someone who wants to work alone. You decided to test those waters years ago with the game of cat and mouse.

The smell of bacon and the sweet smell of syrup fill the small outdated diner, the bell above the door rang out in alarm. Causing the waiters to greet you, your heels softly clicking on the porcelain tile as you shrugged off the trench coat, folding it over your arm. You made your way down the aisle, glancing at the man that sat in the red booth that was sipping on a cup of coffee.

The hand tattoos distinctively make an appearance, your stomach flips in excitement, knowing that you had found the man that you wanted to work with. The black tailored suit made him stick out along with the obnoxious newspaper that you could see he was hardly reading. Already coming to terms with yourself on how you were going to get him strung in.

You stood in front of the booth, waiting for him to address you but nothing came out of him. Causing you to tap your heel impatiently, clearing your throat in order to get his attention fixated on you.

Hanma gives you a smug grin, slowly but surely giving you attention after waiting a long 5 minutes. He folds the newspaper in an even half, letting out a low grunt, “Well, are ya’ gonna sit?” he questions you with a smirk.

“Right,” you belittle, sliding in the booth across from him folding your hands together over the table. You started twiddling your thumbs, looking up at him with wide eyes and a slack jaw.

“You must be the little lady that took her time tracking me down?” he asks, taking a generous sip of his coffee. You swallow the lump in your throat, he figured you out even before you could. It made you backtrack your plan a few steps, wanting to bonk yourself in the head for being so careless. Your intentions were clear, you only needed him for your work and that’s it, already feeling the passion of loathing him had started to set.

“I am that little lady, yes,” you reply with a nod, your eyes never leaving his amber ones. Hanma adjusted his posture, leaning into the table, taking in the way you didn’t do your best to hide your nervousness.

“Heard that you wanted to give me a proposition, hm?” he chides, placing his head on top of his hands, tilting his head in a teasing manner. Hanma slowly wanted to get under your skin, making sure to never take his eyes off of you.

You snap out of the trance, brows going up in realization. “Correct, I actually wanted to ask you if-if you wanted to work side by side,” you calmly say out loud, it sounded so much better in your head but you didn’t care. You had been searching for him for a year and a half, you weren’t going to let him slip away from you now. “I have a lead I’ve been doing for almost two years now—“

He laughs, throwing you off your words, his finger sliding his round glasses back up his nose. “Your yakuza errand, two years?” he baffles out, giving you an uninterested frown. “Honestly, princess, I would have killed that man a long time ago. It’s not worth anyone’s time.” he shrugs off, causing you to blink at him with bewilderment.

You lick your lips, grabbing the butter knife that sat happily on the white napkin, the silver feeling cool against your skin. “I’m not like everyone else,” you grumble, gripping the knife, giving him a stoic glare.

The sound of his laugh ripples through the air, he didn’t know if you were just plain stupid or being serious, his laugh died down in his throat as his fist hit the table, “Don’t waste my time, cut to the fucking chase, little lady.”

You blink, mouth agape in shock, you clench your jaw, nodding your head in agreement. “It has taken me this long because I have to present myself as a married woman. I have gotten closer towards my target, but he wants to meet my fucking husband,” you explain angrily, sticking the butter knife in the air, you twirled it around your knuckles. “I don’t have a husband and that’s the only reason why I've been searching for you. I don’t want anyone else in the network to work with me.” you truthfully say, letting out the breath of air you held in.

“Deal.” he agrees, not even caring to hear more of your sob story. You let out a shocked huff, setting the knife down and looking over at him. You didn’t know if he was bluffing or just saying it to get your hopes up—it intrigued you.

Except Hanma didn’t want to admit, he was truly entranced with your beauty and your solitude, it showed him just enough. You work until your heart contents, no wonder he could see why you dragged out the mission. He knew you were capable of killing a man within 60 seconds and he wasn't going to find out how.

“What’s your coordination?” Hanma says swiftly into the earpiece, drinking the tonic from the glass. His eyes scan the crowd, counting the guards that stood in front of the doors you needed to walk through.

You sigh, adjusting the strap of the dress, clutching the small handbag as you look around the club. Your eyes squint, trying to get used to the flickering lights that danced above you, looking off to your left, you spot Hanma sitting in a private booth.

“To your left, Shuju,” you grumble out awkwardly, letting the nickname slip from your mouth, watching as a dancer starts to straddle his lap as he takes a sip of his drink in the process. “That’s gross, hope you don’t kiss her.” you sneer, swallowing the bile that crawled up your throat.

Hanma takes a long glance over at where you stood, giving you a teasing smirk, “What happens if I do?”

You scoff, not wanting to play his little game, rolling your eyes at his rancid behavior. Smoothly turning on your heel, you made your way up to the second floor of the club. Rolling your shoulders out, and straightening out your posture. Your fingers pinching the sides of your dress down—preparing yourself to advance towards your target.

The goal was to walk through the double doors to the back of the club, eliminating everyone in the room by request of the client. It always got your blood pumping at the thought of revenge kills, something that you enjoy doing. Even if the idea of revenge never suited you, it brought in a hefty amount of cash. You put your life on the line to end fears that haunt people, something that you never thought you’d be doing either.

You didn’t have time to play coy, you had one night, and the only window was in this club. Hanma could tell you were antsy the moment he saw you make your way back down the staircase—you were not going to wait. He quickly pushes the girl off of his lap, muttering a small curse word as he stepped out of the booth.

You were too quick on your feet to be caught by Hanma’s grasp as you waltzed on over to the guards. A single finger twirling in your hair as you chewed on the inside of your cheeks, giving the two men a sultry smile. You ignore Hanma’s protests in your ear as you place a hand on one of the guard's beefy shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze.

“Steroids? Protein? What’s your secret?” you pester, dropping your hand from the man’s shoulder.

“Move along, the party is back there, not over here.” the other man rudely clarifies, pointing a thick finger over your shoulder. You blink in wonder, following where he pointed his finger, you pout.

“That’s no fun, I wanna go back there!” you plea, crossing your arms over your chest, making sure to bunch up your breasts at the same time. One of the men rolled his eyes, turning his gaze away from you but the other started to salivate at the sight before him.

“You walk in there on your own and I won’t be able to help you, babe.” Hanma says angrily through the earpiece. You smile up at the guard, picturing Hanma gritting his teeth and clenching his fists into frustrated balls of anger.

The guard lets you through the doors, his hand respectfully on your shoulder guiding you, “Go have your little bitch fit.” you whisper off to the side, hearing Hanma scoff.

The sound of girl’s moaning and panting filled the dark hallway, time to get this show on the road, the sooner it’s done, the sooner you could relax. The rooms in the back were the brothel’s sex rooms, it made you sneer out in disgust. The smell of sex started to stick to you skin, causing you to look over at the guard, but his eyes were trained at the way your breasts slowly bounced with each step you took.

Your hand quickly slipped the knife out from the thigh holster, it glistened underneath the neon lights. The guard furrows his thick brows, hand ghosting over the weapon he had on his hip. “What do ya think you're doing?” he asks you, pulling your shoulder back to display the scene unfolding before his eyes.

You grab the guard's hand, pulling his wrist back harshly, ignoring the way he hisses out in pain. Once you heard the bone crack, you sent the dagger straight into his arm, dragging it across the flesh. You sneer as you feel his blood come in contact with your face. You step away, dodging a blow to the side, leaning back with a wide eyed look, you jump in the air as you kick him across the face. Letting out a satisfied huff, you wipe the blood and sweat from your brow as you land in a staggering position. Lifting your hands up to protect your face as the dagger is protectively at an angle walking closer to him.

The guard lunges for you, dodging the blade as he grabs you by your hair, sending you to the floor as you feel blood dribble from your temple. You yelp out in pain, trying to shake it off. You wrap your legs around his bloodied forearm, making you groan out in disgust at the way his blood drips onto you. Using all the strength you had, you sent him to the ground, twisting him forward, the sound of his chin meeting the concrete flooring, gave you just enough leeway to crack his shoulder out of place easily. The sound of his pained scream filled the hall, causing many to stumble out of the rooms as you let the man go quickly. Panting heavily, you heard multiple shots in your earpiece—Hanma was definitely having his bitch fit.

You grab the gun that had landed on the floor, checking the clip with blurry eyes. You aimed the gun at a few people, shooting a girl in her back as she tried to make an escape for the door. Everyone that dared to try and escape now came to a halt, all of them cowered to the floor covering their heads.

You lean up, blinking away the tiredness, seeing the guard stagger up, holding his shoulder in place. You let out an angry breath of air. “You owe me,” you say softly, getting up, slipping out of the red bottoms, picking them up, “A new pair of these, you bitch.” you finish, throwing them at the man, aiming the gun at his knee caps.

“Hanma! You better get your ass in here now!” you yell out, kicking the guy down, firing one last round straight between his eyes.

You sneer at the sight, tossing the gun off of the side. You pull a few strands of hair away from your face, and wipe the blood from the side of your head. You hear nothing but static on your end of the earpiece, worry starts to build in the pit of your stomach.

You walk over to another door, knocking on it, jiggling the doorknob angrily. Looking over your shoulder, a few more guards rush in, guns in their hands and ready to fire. You felt the door jolt open, startling the girl that was in nothing but a g-string, shoving your way past her. You start to search the room for any weapon, throwing things off of the tables in a frantic manner. You heard the girl scream out, making you stop, she didn’t scream when you walked in so why was she screaming now?

Turning around you were faced with a man no shorter than you pointing a small glock in your direction. You laugh at the man’s stupidity, giving him a sadistic grin. You extended your hands out, tapping his shiny bald head with a low smirk on your lips, the man tilted his head at the actions. You continue to grin sheepishly, bringing your knee up at an 90 degree angle as your hands grip the back of his neck. The feeling of his nose hitting your bare knee makes you wince out as you block his hits. Your palms send the weapon up towards the roof, letting the man fire out the shots. You suck on your bottom lip in between your teeth, sending the man back a few steps, letting out an angry yell as you lunged towards him. Colliding into his body quickly sending it to the floor. You watch him land on the small step to the bathroom as the sound of his vertebra snapping sent shivers down your spine.

“Where are you?” Hanma rings in your ear, causing you to come to a halt, ignoring the girl that was off to the side yelling at you.

“Further down on your right—” you rush out, feeling the barrel of a weapon meet your side, you turn around softly. The girl stood behind you, shaking harshly as tears stream down her face, she started to mutter incoherent words. Blocking out the sound of Hanma’s voice, you swallow, raising your hands in the air, tossing your dagger off onto the floor.

“Put it down,” you coax, looking at her with pleading eyes, “I won’t kill you!” you say sweetly, giving her a reassuring smile.

“Oh, but I will.” Hanma bellows from behind you, causing you to lunge at the girl, subconsciously yanking the weapon from her. The sound of the gun popping makes you jump, watching her body drop to the floor, your hands fly to your side, wincing at the pain as your hands shook violently.

Spitting up a few drabbles of blood, you blink away the tears. “You shot me?” you ask, spitting out blood onto the floor.

“You got in the way.” he scoffs, stuffing his gun in the back of his pants, pacing over to you.

“I had it handled,” you wince, pulling your hands away from your side slowly, seeing blood on your hands. You look down at the girl, her blood pooling around her skull, he fired two shots. Feeling the world around you grow dizzy, you extend a bloodied hand out towards Hanma, choking on small wads of blood.

Hanma rolls his eyes, giving you a ‘are you serious’ glare, bringing you closer to him. He grabs hold of you, pulling your slumping body up by the top of your dress, you hiss out in pain. “Up you go,” he huffs out, picking you up easily as he slowly carries you out of the room.

You blink in and out of consciousness, seeing the neon lights shine bright above you to the sound of men yelling and gunfire fill your ears. You harshly grip the collar of Hanma’s suit, muttering small words out, trying to keep your breathing even.

“These requirements…are they meant to be taken seriously?” he asks you, lighting the cigarette that dangled from his mouth, blowing the smoke off to the side. You scrunch your nose at his habit, passing him the last document he had to sign.

“Yes, if anything happens to either of us, these documents will save our asses.” you embellish, pouring the syrup over your pancakes, Hanma raises a brow at you.

“You put syrup on your eggs too?” he queries, grimacing at the way the fork met the plate. You nodded your head at him, taking a bite of the food.

“Shut up and sign the paperwork, we’re getting weird stares.” you retort, poking the egg yolk. Hanma takes one long drag from the stick, quickly signing the document before sliding it back over to you.

The requirements that would justify the marriage, you were the humble wife and he was the loyal husband that came home after work on time. No evidence leading back to what both of your occupations were and you made sure it stayed that way.

“You just had to be in the way, huh?” he scolds, trudging up the stairs of the penthouse slowly. You flick his ear out of protest, having to hear him scold you all the way home was definitely what you needed. You moan out in pain, your hand flying to the wound. Forgetting that you were injured, you press on it lightly, seeing blood start to seep from it.

“Oh, don’t worry! It’s all over me and my car.” he exclaims sarcastically, sitting you down on the toilet. You blink up at him, smearing your fresh blood on his now stained suit. Hanma grunts at you, shrugging off the jacket and rolling up his sleeves. You watch him, noticing the blood that is splattered all over him, along with the huge stain from your own wound.

“I’ll buy you a new one, and for the record,” you say wincing as he turns his back to grab the medical kit, “That’s my car,” you mumble, sitting up slightly to take the dress off, letting out hisses of pain as the fabric let loose around your skin. “Here.” you grumble out as Hanma stuck a hand out to take the dress from you.

“Your car?” he questions, tossing the dress in the sink before placing the kit on the white counter, fishing for the things he needed. You hum in response, “Babe, I bought that car, just because you drive it. Don’t make it yours.” he blathers, pointing the scissors at you before washing his hands.

“Whatever you say, Shuju,” you utter, grabbing the hand mirror off the counter, and start examining the wound. Your hand reaches back behind to see if the blow went through. “Shit,” you gasp, tilting the mirror back over your wound, noticing the bullet that stuck out of your skin, “It wasn’t a clean blow.”

Hanma let out the breath of air he was holding in, unaware on how to approach this predicament. You were always the one patching him up, not the other way around. He didn’t mean to shoot you but he panicked.

He ruffles his hair, patting the top of your head, and leans over to place a soft kiss on your forehead. “On the counter,” he commands, making enough space for you, he doesn’t say another word as he exits the bathroom quickly.

You look at yourself in the mirror, noticing the blood that was caked on you, the dirt that had caked your legs and even your shoulders. You felt grimy and in desperate need of a shower. Fixing the bra strap that had slipped off your shoulder, you hopped onto the counter, breathing in and out as you watched more blood seep from the wound.

“You’re gonna need this,” he remarks, handing you the large bottle of vodka. “Oh and don't squirm because I have no fuckin’ idea how to do this.” he finishes with a smirk, wiggling his brows as he throws on some medical gloves.

You nodded quietly, twisting open the top to the bottle, taking a generous chug of the beverage. You hum at the way it crept back up your throat, causing you to cough up small specks of blood onto the counter. You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, ignoring a wide eyed Hanma as he starts to mutter under his breath.

“Check the wound, disinfect, clean, suture, disinfect, and wrap,” you guide out to him, your hand rummaging through the medical box, finding the wrap he needed to use. “The bullet is still embedded in my skin so you have to use the prongs, er, maybe tweezers.” you add, leaning back a bit.

Hanma nods along, placing himself in between your legs, one hand firmly grips your thigh as the other leans you farther back. He needed to make sure the light hit the wound perfectly, he didn’t want to cause anymore pain or unwanted blood.

You let out a shaky breath, hands gripping the edges of the counter as you feel the cool metal at your skin. Hanma bit his bottom lip, moving his shoulder in front of his face, pushing the glasses back up his nose as he slowly started to work on the bullet. You bite back a yelp, your hand reaching out for the heavy bottle as you seeth out in pain.

“Deep breaths, princess.” he mutters to you, looking up at you through his lashes. You nod meekly, pouring some of the vodka onto the wound before bringing the bottle back over to your mouth. You hiss once the alcohol hits your skin, letting out a shaky breath.

Hanma presses lightly on the wound, letting the blood race down your skin, he maneuveres the tweezers over the biggest piece of bullet that had been sticking out of your skin. You felt the metal work its way into you, taking a sharp inhale of air as you felt the bullet being pulled out of your skin. You bit down your lip as your hands went over to cup your mouth, trying to hold back the scream. The tears started to slowly roll down your face as you felt the wave of pain course through your body.

“That’s one,” he mutters, placing the bullet in a bowl, he looks up at you, wiping away the stray tears that fell from your eyes. “One more, okay?” he reassures you, dabbing gauze over the bleeding wound.

You look at him with low lidded eyes, “Shooting me was not a part of the plan, Hanma.” you cough out, leaning your head back up against the wall. He looks at you, hands shaking slightly as he tries his best to get the smaller chunk.

“It was an accident, it’s not like you’d do that to me,” he admits, flicking his gaze up at you and back down at the bullet. You grew quiet, biting down your lip in thought. “Right?“ he asks as he pulls away from you.

It was exactly how he put it, you would shoot him. You would make sure to kill him if it was needed, your need for him was already completed. At this pace, you just enjoyed his company, his work ethic and the way he fucks you. Being caught up in a fantasy that didn’t seem real in the occupation you were in, Hanma wanted to retire. You wanted to go on trips and live in another country away from your past. These were two different dreams for two different people that had no connection outside of work.

“I wouldn’t,” you lie smoothly, giving him a tired smile. “You’re too pretty for me to even raise my gun at.” you let out, feeling the pit in your stomach churn with guilt.

He hums in satisfaction, swiftly taking the bullet out from your skin, “I can’t get the last one out.” he bellows, his hoarse voice fills your head.

“Yes, you can.” you encourage as you adjust the way you sat on the counter. You grab the bottle of vodka, taking another swig of the burning liquid.

“On three,” he tells you, looking at you as his hands pressed against your stomach. You nod out in pain, taking a deep breath, looking up at the blinding lights of the bathroom.

“One.”

You held back a whimper, clamping a hand over your mouth, hearing the way the sound of your flesh squirmed against the tool. “Two.” Feeling him tug harshly on your skin.

You yell out, tears streaming down your face as you kick Hanma off of you. “You said, on three!” you remark at him, wiping your tears away from your stained cheeks.

He shrugs, tossing the items in a bowl that was filled with alcohol. “I got impatient.” he states with a smirk. You groan out in pain, fighting back the urge to slap him.

You surely were going to regret your mission. It was bound to happen, you are an assassin, someone that doesn’t trust easily. Here you were, getting assigned to another job by your network to take out one of their own.

“I reckon you won’t get your personal feelings involved in this?” the board's director asks you through the phone.

You put the cigarette out up against the concrete wall, blowing out the smoke. Looking out at the pedestrians that were doing their daily commute, that could have been you chasing down a taxi but maybe in another lifetime. Maybe in another life you’ll be away from all the anger, the guilt, and the constant fear you lived in.

You quickly hum into the call, closing your thoughts, “Feeling is mutual.” you state harshly, holding back the next set of words you wanted to add. Why did it have to be you? Ending the call without another acknowledgment before walking back into the building.

“Eliminate Hanma Shuji at all costs, 200,000,000¥ will be deposited once the assignment is completed.”

He was too caught up in his own concentration as he sutured your wound shut. Throwing out curse words every given second, his fingers slipping against your spilled blood.

Not glancing up at you to see that you had slipped out of consciousness due to the pain. “Babe?” he repeats as he shakes you awake with panic forming in his eyes. He hears you hum out to him as he wipes his brow, feeling full of relief.

He tosses the gloves in the sink, trying his best to make sure the blood doesn’t get on the clean wrapping. Hanma leans over and kisses your cheek softly, “I’m sorry.” he whispers to you. Pulling away, frowning at the sight as he starts to bring the wrap around your abdomen.

“It’s okay.” you utter restlessly, giving him a small smile. You knew better than to keep adding fuel to the flame but the time was now. If you pushed this on even more, then both of you wouldn’t be able to move past it. Especially you.

“I thought I lost ya’,” he sighs out truthfully, throwing you a worried look. You hear the scissors snip the wrap and the way his hands pressed down carefully onto the now sealed wound.

He places both hands on his hips and looks at you, biting down his lip in thought. Admiring the work he had done on you, “I think I did well.” he comments with a wide grin.

Of course he did well, you were always the one patching him up if he got snagged. You gave him lessons on stuffed animals and on pillows. He just didn’t want to admit that an assassin like you sometimes got wounded. You were skilled, your tactics always came together and you’re a quick thinker. Something that threw his ass out of your league, you downplayed and he didn’t dare to step foot on your turf. Even if he knew that, you were going to be the death of him one day and he had a feeling that it would be sometime soon.

You shake your head in agreement, “I’m starving.” you croak, trying your best to hop off of the counter, wincing at the sharp pain.

Hanma quickly goes over to help you, helping you off of the counter, giving you a scolding glare. “I just patched you up. Stay still will ya?” he hooks a finger under your chin, “I’ll go grab ya something, okay?” he murmurs softly, bringing his lips to your forehead.

You stand there briefly, hearing the sound of his footsteps fade away, the feeling of the cold air coming from the air vent made you shiver. You rubbed your face, groaning out in agony. “Now or never.” you whisper to yourself, hitting the secret compartment that was hidden on the side of the counter.

You grabbed the clips, slamming one of them into the glock as you wobbly made your way to the closet. You calculated the time it would take for Hanma to travel back up the stairs from the kitchen. “Two minutes?” you ponder, yanking a black baggy nightshirt from the velvet hanger. “No, 60 seconds.” you murmur, slipping the shirt over your head, quickly rushing over to the back of the bathroom door.

The sound of his footsteps grew heavier, closing your eyes in thought, you started to contemplate on the next move. Either shoot him with no remorse or question him. You grew silent, hearing his voice before you.

“I got your fav—“

You swipe your tongue over your bottom lip, pressing the gun into his side, “On your knees,” you snarl out in demand, Hanma looks off to his side, dropping the food he had made for you. “Now!”

“Princess?” he exclaims, the sound of his voice wavers, full of disbelief. That gut feeling had come true, you were going to murder him in cold blood.

“For the violation of code, thirty two, you’ve been sentenced to be executed,” you sneer, kicking him in the knee, watching him stumble to the floor. “You remember the incident in Osaka?” you dryly ask, gripping the gun with both of your hands, this wasn’t the time to fall to his tricks.

He laughs, “So this is what it’s about?” he scowls, jaw clenched and fingers thrown into large shaking fists. You circle around him, keeping your eyes on him as you keep the gun at an angle.

“Tell me, did you kill them?” you ask, biting down your lip, the familiar taste of copper fills your mouth. You wanted to hear it from him and not from anyone else.

He grins sadistically, ruffling his hair with his tattooed hand, the word ‘sin’ flashing in your eyes. You swallowed the saliva that had started to build in the back of your throat, clenching your jaw as you stepped closer towards him. “Don’t tell me you knew them?” he taunts, slowly rising up from the ground.

“I-I don’t let my feelings get involved with my work,” you stutter, holding back the tears that started to well up. Stepping closer towards him, you pressed the gun up against his chest, letting out a shaky breath.

“You let your personal feelings get in the way of our work. Didn’t you, sweetheart?” he murmurs to you, one of his hands met the barrel of the weapon as his other hand found its way up your shirt.

No. It was him. He slithered himself in between you. Seemingly, you fell for his charm and you were so careless. So devoted to your work that you kept running back to him and you were carelessly in love with him. You had a mission to carry out and you knew better than to ever get your feelings involved with such need.

“Why did you do it?” you ask him, feeling his large hand start to knead your breast like his own personal stress ball. His fingers pinching your nipple in the process sent shivers down your spine.

He chuckles, prying your shaky fingers off of the gun, “Just following orders,” he coos, his hand yanking the weapon away from you. The sound of it going off, caused you to jump slightly. Looking up to see the hole in the ceilings of the penthouse. “Oops.” he tosses the gun onto the bed.

You watch as he starts to lower himself back towards the ground. You feel his lips start to kiss along the inside of your thigh. Mouth agape, you furrow your brows, “Orders? F-From— Fuck.” you breathe out when he nibbles on a piece of skin, you feel his tongue swipe over the spot.

“No. No. Continue,” he states, voice laced with sarcasm, an envious grin on his face. “It’s not like you tried to just kill me or anything.” he smarts off, swiftly shoving your body into the edge of the bed. You hiss out in pain, quickly closing your thighs in the process.

“I was assigned to kill you,” you muster, looking at him through half lidded eyes. He laughs out at your snide comment, hands unbuckling his belt. The click of the belt set alarms off in your head, looking at the gun that was laying on the opposite side of the bed. You lean up using your shoulders for support trying your best to scoot away from him as he crawls over you.

“Assigned, huh?” he chuckles, yanking your legs open, causing you to squirm in the process. An inaudible hiss of pain leaves your lips, fire to the fuel was now being burned slowly and you had no way to control it. That need grew for him more and tonight was going to be the last night.

“A game of cat and mouse,” he whispers in your ear, pressing himself against your soaked panties. You threw your head back at the sensation the friction was giving you, trying your best to hold back the pitiful moan. “You had me fooled but two can play that game,” he sneers as his lips ghost over yours. You grew quiet, not wanting to say a word as he hooked two fingers over the band of your underwear, sliding them down effortlessly.

Throwing your head back, a loud moan erupted from your lips as you felt two of his fingers slip through the folds of your cunt. He smirks down at you, letting out a soft, “May I?” admiring the way your lips parted in awe. You nod quickly, wrapping your arms around his neck as you pull him closer towards you.

You felt his lips brush against yours, impatiently kissing you as his hand started to roam your body. His digits started to circle the sensitive bud in slow motions, causing you to tug onto the bottom of his lip. Slipping your tongue into his mouth, your fingers entangle themselves with his hair as you part your legs wider, needing him to pick up the pace. His hand finds comfort at the dips of your hip, gripping at the skin harshly. You let out a needy whimper as you feel his fingers curl inside of you. The sound of your pussy squelching around his fingers in such a lewd manner made his cock twitch. He needs to be inside of you now before he lets his load go to waste.

“Please,” you whisper out. Taking in the way he looked above you, his amber eyes showed nothing but anger and lust. “Just this once.” you beg, moving strands of hair away from his face and tucking it back behind his ears.

He laughs out loud while pulling away from you, bringing the two fingers towards his mouth. You watch him suckle on them, eating up the way you tasted. “You dumb little lamb.” he avows coldly as he grabs the gun from the side. You swallow hard, your eyes grow wide at the way he sets the gun on your chest.

“You move an inch and I won't hesitate, ” he scoffs, pinning your arms over your head. Your eyes dart down at the gun and back up at him, nodding quickly.

“Good. Now spread.” he demands, watching you slowly spread your legs for him. He bites his lip down, holding back the words that wanted to spill from his mouth. Humbling himself quickly as he reminds himself that you are still assigned to kill him.

Too worn out, too weak, to even fight him back, you grew limp at the way he pounded into you. From the way his fingers pulled at your scalp to the way his teeth dragged across your collarbone, everything he did was poison to you. Sending your body into another yelping orgasm, you cried out his name over and over again like a broken record. Tears started to form in your eyes as he bit down at the sensitive skin around your breasts.

“Sh-Shuji, please— Ah! Fuck!” you whimper, bucking your hips into his. He grunts out in response, a throaty groan left his lips as he felt your pussy clench around his cock.

Your moans fill the room as you feel his hand grip loosely around your neck as he thrusted into you. You turn your head away from him, feeling pathetic that he was fucking you with such hatred. “N-No, you're going to watch me.” he grunts out, pulling on your chin.

You let out a huff of air, completely forgetting the situation before he started to feel himself up against you. He was going to use this one night to fuck you, like he hated your guts. Knowing the task at hand still stood, but you needed him and he needed you.

He wipes the sweat from his brow, taking the gun into his hands, you lick your lips out in thought. Feeling worry start to build in the pit of your stomach, you had your mouth agape as a stifled moan left your lips. “Open wide.” he says, waving the gun around. You close your mouth shut, glancing up at him with hate in your eyes.

“I said, open up.” he seethes, pounding himself into you harder causing you to throw your head back in pleasure as you arch your back forward. Your mouth starts to open up slowly, trying to form words but nothing comes out.

He doesn't give you no time to think as he places the gun into your mouth. You furrow your brows, looking up at him through your lashes as you feel your drool drip down the barrel of the gun. You started to say something but the words became muffled as he started to move the weapon around in your mouth.

You didn't even know if he emptied out the rounds, his finger ghosting over the trigger as he stared at you with icy amber eyes. You moan out, your shaky fingers starts to press onto your clit, trying to add as much pressure to reach the desired need you wanted to feel. He continues to thrust himself deeper into you, his hands never leaving the gun that he had shoved into your mouth. Trying to say something to him once again but your drool bubbled in the small slits of the corners of your lips.

“I'm sorry? What was that?” he explicated, pulling the weapon from your mouth, watching you take a deep breath of air. Your chest heaving up and down viciously but he didn't care, he was too entranced by the way your breasts bounced to his own rhythm.

The sound of your moans started to fill his head, dragging the gun down your body as he let it hover over your patched up wound. He pinched the flesh of your ass roughly with his other hand, watching you jolt up at the contact. You cry out in pain feeling the heavy weapon lay on top of your wound, tears pricking your eyes but Hanma didn't stop. He felt himself reach his high to the sound of your cries, your begging and even your sweetened pitiful moans.

You tangle your hands within the sheets of the messy bedding, throwing your head into the body pillows, letting out a loud moan that could have been heard from outside of the penthouse— if you had left the windows open. You call out his name like a mantra needing to be spilled, wrapping your legs harder around his waist, letting him come undone inside of you.

“I-I'm—“ you stutter, rolling your eyes in the back of your head as you feel yourself starting to ride out your aching high with Hanma. His pants and low moans filled your ears as his thrusting grew sloppy as his lips attacked your skin. The sound of your name blabbering from his lips made you grow wide eyed as he breathed out heavily, wiping the sweat off of his brow.

Both of you lay there, his head meeting yours as you tried your best to control your breathing. He didn't even glance up at you, give you a reassuring kiss on the forehead or even offer to crack a joke. It was filled with labored breathing and growing tension.

You closed your eyes, breathing out harshly as your hands lightly toss the gun off of the bed. Hanma watches you with caution, pulling himself away from you as he gently pats your thighs. Climbing out of the bed, you watch him with tired eyes as you grab the robe off the night stand.

Back to reality starts to hit you, and now the tension grows heavy. Not wanting to finish out the mission and wanting him to ask you if this was a joke. You wanted to take it all away, you wanted to run away with him, but you were greedy. Brainwashed and manipulated into thinking this man killed the most important people in your life. You were blinded by rage. This was a lesson, a lesson that showed you to never spill your guts to the first man that taught you how to love. Teaching you how to love in the worst kind of way.

“If you're going to kill me,” he sighs, throwing on a pair of pants, “At least, do it when I'm asleep, okay?” he comments, walking past you with a frown as he pats your shoulder.

You shove his hand off of you, scoffing at his behavior, “I can't.” you reply hoarsely, hands wrapped around your waist in a protective manner. Hanma halts, turning back around slowly.

He tilts his head to the side mockingly, waving a finger inches from your face, “How pathetic.” he chuckles out, shaking his head at you. He takes two steps closer to you, hovering over you as he gets closer towards your ear. “Here I thought you'd be able to kill a man within 60 seconds,” he pauses, looking down at the way your face palls.

Almost finding comfort in the way your face showed nothing but waves of emotions even he couldn't convey, it made him think back to all of the years you two spent together. It almost felt like a fever dream. “What are ya waiting for?” he whispers as his teeth nip at the top of your earlobe.

He was right, you were pathetic. You couldn't even bring yourself to run towards the guns in your closet or even the knives you kept in your draws. You stood there frozen, eyes glistening with tears as you watched him walk into the bathroom that followed with a door slam.

His words run through your mind like a mosquito hovering over flesh waiting to take a swim in the enriching taste of blood. It left a sour taste in your mouth as the loaded gun lay on your lap as you watched the sun start to rise. The quick buzzing of your phone snapped you out of your thoughts.

“Confirm kill….payment is waiting.”

The phone grew heavy in your hands, looking over at Hanma, admiring the way his chest rose and fell. You let out a shaky breath as you wipe away the tears that have started to well up in your eyes. You pull the covers off your body, sliding off of the bed quietly, fingers straightening out the black top you wore as you shoved the phone in your back pocket.

The weapon grows heavy in your hands with each step you took towards his side of the bed he was laying on. You cup a hand over your mouth, stifling the sobs that started to fall from your mouth. Breathe hitching in the back of your throat as you raise the shaky gun over him.

“You're bad news,” he chucked out, shoving another piece of candy in his mouth, “I like it.”

“Careful, what you wish for Shuju.” you mumble, yanking your bag of candies from him, giving him a small weak glare.

His laughter rings in your head as he brings his large hands to the sides of your face, “My wish has already come true.” he whispers as he pecks your lips.

Bang!

“When I tell you, I can handle it! Means I can handle it!” you yell at him, tossing the paperwork off the table. He scoffs, tapping his shoe against the tile angrily, shaking his head at you.

“To hell with our requirements, then?” he seethes out, his voice never rising as he waltzed over to you. Yanking the yellow folder from your fingers, “You missed a whole ass paragraph and that proves to me that no. You can't handle it!” he retorts, slapping the folder against his open palm, giving you an eye roll before he storms off.

Bang!

“Once again, Hanma, you are letting me down.” you murmured into the phone, flipping through the magazines as you peered at the woman that walked in. The target you needed to eliminate.

“Look who's talking,” he snarks back, flicking the toothpick off onto the sidewalk, “Anyways, are you almost done? I got reservations for us in two hours.” he grins out widely, winking at you through the wide shop window before walking off.

Bang!

You turn away, throwing the gun at the window far across the room. Your choked sobs and screams filled the quiet room, as your knees buckled underneath you. The sound of his blood dripping off onto the floor made your skin crawl. Bringing your hands over your ears, you started to rock yourself, murmuring the two words you value the most, “I'm sorry.”

Your phone vibrated in the back of your pocket, grabbing your attention as you rubbed your eyes, wiping the blood that had splattered onto your face in the process. You look at the no caller ID, clenching your jaw in hatred. You answered it after the fourth ring, the line was quiet, waiting for you to speak.

You let out a shaky breath, “Target has been eliminated. I want my ransom and I'm out.” you harshly spew, your fingers pressing the red button as you fumble back up. Taking one last glance at the pool of blood but never at his face or his body.

You don't remember much of the night when you murdered him, you didn't bury him nor did you notify the authorities. Having already seen the network clean-up crew waiting outside of the penthouse doors tells you enough. But you didn't stay, no, you ran like a dog with its tail in between its hind legs. You cleared your name and went to another country that didn't have any data on you. You wanted to forget, and this was the only way too.

Except the nightmares still crept through your dreams, his smile, his voice, and even down to the way he used to hold you so close at night. It was all gone, you were the one, who had taken that away. You were never really taught how to grieve, but slowly you felt the lingering pain of heartbreak park its way right into your tainted soul.

Each morning, you sit on your large porch, watching the waves crash against each other, reminding you of him. Each night, you stayed up until two, whispering goodnights to yourself and wishing he was there with you. Everything you did was for him.

It was a year, maybe two when you finally grew out of that state of misery. Coming to terms that you were just meant to never accept anyone else or love anyone else. Your time as an assassin caught up with you, many of the townsfolk got word that a killer lived amongst them. Though, they would never suspect it was you, the sweet lady that gave the kids candy anytime they walked through the garden as a shortcut to the beach.

Your time as an assassin did bring in many freelancers to your doorstep begging you to train them, take them under your wing as a student. You did agree to one girl, she reminded you so much of him. It made you want to tell her about him but you refrain yourself from doing so.

“My old sensei, Hanma, has told me about you.” she says out loud, grabbing the walking stick and digging it into the ground.

You pause, dusting your hands off with the cloth that was draped over your shoulder, turning your gaze on the girl. “Excuse me?”

She laughs, “Did you really think you killed him?”

Your blood ran cold, dropping the gardening tool as you quickly got up from the sitting position. The girl panics, fumbling to grab her ringing phone from her pocket, the ringtone rumbles through the speakers.

“Answer it.” you demand with a clenched jaw. You watch as the girl answers the phone, whispering into it quickly and flickering her eyes at you and back towards the roses bushes. She quietly passes you the phone, stepping away from you but making sure to be within earshot.

“Hello?” you chime into the phone speaker, feeling your skin crawl at the line and its waves of static. You kept your expression stoic making sure to have your eyes trained on your student, if this was a joke you would surely have her do laps until she passed out.

After a few more seconds went by, you started to realize that this wasn't a joke. You heard someone's voice, a voice that you tried to distinctly make out but the connection of the call was static. Briefly making out the three words that made you shake in bewilderment.

“Miss me, Princess?”

classmate!gojo part 2!

classmate!gojo who has been losing his mind trying to figure out who his mystery girl is. He’d assume it’s someone he knows, someone he hangs around, maybe one of the well known girls in his class. But looking at them, he didn’t really get that vibe. Sure they’d flirt with him, always hang around him, and that would be way too obvious. Despite being a part time investigator along with being a college student, that hasn’t stopped gojo from chatting with you. Still, everyday, you and him are sending pictures and videos back and forth and texting.

gojo: just tell me who you are, baby, promise I won’t bite ;)

you: where’s the fun in that, hm?

you laugh at knowing he’s frustrated. You see it on his face everyday when he walks into class, looking at his phone constantly and his eyes scanning the room. He does it in the cafe area as well when hanging with his friend, looking to see if any girl might fit his description of you. But of course, he never looks your way, completely disregarding your existence until late in the night when you’re both horny for each other. You can’t help but send him a video of you fucking your self with your dildo, your phone set up perfectly where you can’t see your face, but can see everything else. And you fuck yourself until you squirt all over your bedroom floor, legs shaking as you imagine it’s his cock.

poor gojo is just losing his mind behind the screen, listening to your moans and watching you squirt over and over, but all he’s thinking about is your face. Doesn’t stop him from getting off though. Of course he’s jerking his cock. Roughly. All the frustration is really getting to him. “Fuck! You’re really fucking teasing me, baby. You know that?”

the cycle continues for several days, until one day he misses class. What’s the problem in that? It’s the fact he needed the notes from that lecture and of course his friends never write them down. So, who did the professor direct him to? You. He’s walking up to you so casually, a bored look on his face as you’re sitting in your seat, palms sweating and internally freaking out. “Don’t mean to bother you, but do you have the notes from the last lecture?” He sighs in annoyance, adjusting his backpack.

“Oh, um…yeah, let me just…” You reach down into your bag and doing so, gojo noticed the color of your nails, his brows furrowing. They looked familiar.

“Nice nails,” he said. You couldn’t be his mystery girl, could you? No, no it was just a coincidence. You’re just some quiet, shy, and nerdy girl who keeps to herself. No way you fit in the description.

You pause for a moment, handing him your notes. “Thanks,” you mutter, quickly standing from your seat.

“Wait, don’t you want these back?” He asked, curious as to why you were in such a rush.

“Keep em, I have a picture of them on my phone.” You grab your bag and hurriedly walk away from him, your heart pounding against your chest. Gojo watches as you disappear from the lecture hall, immediately pulling out his phone to pull up a saved picture of his mystery girl, endlessly scrolling through pictures and videos to find one with your hands.

He stops at a video of you groping your tits, eyes widening when he notices the same color nails and design. “Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. No fucking way.” He shoves his phone in his pocket, quickly following after you, wherever you went. But he doesn’t know that you left home for the day, completely avoiding him.

You can’t believe you got so close to him today, so close you could smell his cologne and hear his voice in person. Just thinking about it had you so horny, so wet. And when he complimented your nails? It meant he was actually checking you out! His eyes were on you! “He talked to me!” You squealed, running to your room, locking your bedroom door and slipping your panties off from under your skirt. “He talked to me…he was looking at me…” You sink your fingers into your already soaked cunt, eyes fluttering shut as you move them faster, pressing against your g-spot.

Gojo stared at his phone, debating whether to text you. He needed to really see if you were his mystery girl. He needed to investigate a little more, meaning he needed to watch your every move before confronting you. “Can’t believe you really might be her,” he sighed, biting down on his bottom lip. “Those tits, that ass, that pussy, all belonging to a sweet little thing like you? Can’t be…” Gojo couldn’t help himself, palming his semi-hard cock through his jeans. “Shit, baby,” he moaned, undoing his jeans, pulling out his cock. His eyes shut, remembering the cute look on your face when he walked up to you, and he could smell your perfume too, and that voice…yeah, he could recognize that voice anywhere. You’re definitely her. “I hope you’re thinking about me too. Fuck that. I know you’re thinking about me,” he breathily chuckles, slowly fisting his cock to your pictures.

“You were so close to me today, mmmph—fuck!” You rub your clit in circles, watching a video of him jerking off his pretty cock. “Wish you would’ve bent me over and fucked me right there—ah!” You heavily pant, hips twitching. “I need more!” You reach over into your bedside drawer, pulling out your dildo. “Want your cock inside me, Toru,” you moan. “Please say you’re thinking about me too, please!”

You know he knows. He has to. Why else would he compliment your nails? And why hasn’t he texted you yet? You’ve scared him off. Of course he doesn’t want anything to do with you. But you’ll have your fun while it lasts.

I know I left it on a cliffhanger (I’m super evil 😈 )

virgin!hq

w: nsfw.

ft. virgin!oikawa, virgin!ushijima, virgin!atsumu, virgin!suna [g/n reader, no description of genitalia, lingere mention]

a/n: not me trying not to make this pervert!hq instead of virgin!hq lol. Anyways happy december!!! pls show up in the tags this is the 8th time

virgin!oikawa who goes through petty girlfriends like he goes through clothes but never actually touches them because in his heart he knows his one true love is out there somewhere and he's saving his heart and body for them

virgin!oikawa who practices dance trends as hard as volleyball so that when he posts, the comments are full of hysterical thirsts about how lewd and experienced his body rolls and hip thrusts are

virgin!oikawa who gets in some dance practice late at night when he thrusts his leaking cock into the mattress, firmly grazing the underside and his tight balls because you liked his little dance posts, getting off on the fact that you saw him doing something like that

virgin!oikawa wondering if you saw the outline of his erection in his jeans in the video and wondering if you know it was just for you

.

.

virgin!ushijima who is the only one to volunteer to read the chapter about sex&anatomy in health class, not understanding the muffled giggles and snorts from his classmates

virgin!ushijima who has his first wet dream that night and chalks it up to his subconscious playing with him, but then he sees you and realizes the same naughty parts he read about yesterday are the same ones hiding behind all those cute little clothes you wear, so easy for his strong hands to snap and rip at the seams

virgin!ushijima who starts to get off on edging himself, tucking his heavy cock into his waistband or only giving his balls a squeeze or two when all he wants is to burst and drip his thick cum all over the notes you lent him for health class

virgin!ushijima who's intense eyes start to pay attention to the curve of your legs or smell of your shampoo just so when he's in bed later that night, he'll know exactly what to imagine when he finally lets himself cum after saving it up for two weeks

.

.

virgin!atsumu who listens to all his lockermates' salacious one night stand stories and brushes them off when it's his turn, saying that he doesn't kiss and tell, knowing full well that he's never even held a girl's hand as yet

virgin!atsumu who's curiosity gets the better of him and ends up buying an onahole online to see what exactly everyone was raving about

virgin!atsumu who quickly gets addicted to sex toys, having a whole stash he hopes to god osamu doesn't find, including the all the cute lingerie sets he sucks on while masturbating, imagining them wrapped around your body and soaked in your taste

virgin!atsumu who finds his interest in anything that isn't you waning because all he can spend his every waking moment thinking of is shoving his head between your thighs and making you cum over and over until you're squirting on his face

.

.

virgin!suna who has no sex drive whatsoever until he overhears you and your friends sharing naughty stories while he's pretending to sleep at the table next to you

virgin!suna who goes home and looks up what you said your favorite position looks like, swallowing thickly when he imagines you on his bed like that

virgin!suna who has no guilt jerking off to you every night despite how red and raw his cock gets from all the sudden use, shirt shoved in his mouth because, oh, he's a moaner apparently and it feels soooo much better when he's letting the sounds slip from his throat

virgin!suna who can't believe it when you come over to work on a project, sitting on the same bed he imagined fucking you on, laughing so happily and merrily at his red ears and slow replies because his mind is hyperfixed on exactly where you're sitting so he can rub his cock raw with the material as soon as you leave

.

.

🖤This blog features dark content in fiction for entertainment purposes. I do not condone or support such themes irl. What you chose to interact with is your own responsibility. Don’t like, don’t read. Minors, please follow the honor system and do not interact with me regarding 18+ content.

DO NOT RE-POST, TRANSLATE, USE OR RECOMMEND MY WORK ANYWHERE. ALL WORKS ARE AGED UP.

|Character/s ➵ All bonten members.

|Warning/s ➵ NSFW, Fem!reader, crack language, suggestive themes, making out, cock block(😔).

|Note ➵ Ctto. They look so fine, damn it. Anyways, here's the part 2 that some of you peeps asked for. And I'd be happy to know on what you thought of this story in the comments! Enjoy <3

✿ Part(s): One, Two, Three

"My head." You let out a small groan then blankly stared at the unfamiliar ceiling which you still haven't realized... "My fucking head."

Letting out a sigh, you turn on your side, seeing an unknown but somehow familiar man sleeping on the bed with you which immediately made your eyes wide in shock.

"Did I finally lost my v card?" Was the first questions you asked. "To this fine fucking man?" Pursing your lips, you felt a tear slip out of her eyes. "Holy shit?? Is this for real?" Pumping your fist in the air, you almost shout a cheer.

"I fucking hit jackpot!" You squealed a little, excited to share the news to your friends. "I'm not a goddamn virgin anymore, Haya." You mumble before glancing at the still sleeping man.

"Goddamn pretty." You whisper with a dreamy sigh. "So fucking pretty. So lucky." You do a little victory dance in your mind as a memory suddenly comes in mind, making your face heat up.

It was a memory of you, clothes gone except for the matching undergarments. While half naked, you and the man were kissing each other so slow and passionate first before it became deep and rough, him dominating over you as his button up shirt were now half undone. Your inner self squeals, remembering how his hands traveled and caressed your body, the hazy memory ending there for you with a small huff.

You lift the blanket, wondering if you're naked along with Ran Haitani. A small hum came out of your mouth when your question was answered. You were wearing a large shirt, which obviously belonged to him, with nothing underneath but your black underwear while Ran wore a gray sweatpants next to you, his torso completely bare.

"How sweet. He must've cleaned and dressed me up." You mumble before lifting the blanket again, seeing his toned body with a half tattoo on it.

"...Now that's fucking sexy." You say, face heating up as you press your legs against each other. "Great. I'm getting horny over a tattoo." You roll your eyes at your own words before letting out a small chuckle and biting your lower lip when you took a quick peak at Ran's body once again.

"Damn sexy." You try your best not to squeal like a little girl so you set the blanket back down on your torso and turned your attention back to admire Ran's beauty but seeing him awake absolutely caught you off guard.

Your first reaction was to pull the blanket over your head and turn around in a flash, face turning red from embarrassment when you question yourself on how long was he awake and how much has he heard since he was looking pretty smug with a handsome smirk on his face.

'Cringe.' You thought, face going red from embarrassment. "Good morning, miss horny." The male greets with a small laugh while you question the somehow familiar name he just called you.

"Don't get all shy on me now." You hear him speak once again. "You were such a naughty girl last night, you know?" Your inner self lets out a scream, face flushed at his husky deep voice.

You remain still and quiet under the blanket, your shyness now getting the best of you which Ran found cute as you were a different person unlike last night.

Anxiety fills you up when the male became quiet with you, and it only increased when you feel him shift closer to you, feeling his warm toned body against your back that it made you think your heart was gonna yeet itself out of your chest.

"You're such a cutie." He said as you let out a small squeak when you felt his cold slender fingers make contact against your legs.

"You were so loud last night." You shut your eyes when you felt his hot breath against your nape. Ran was now under the blanket with you and the tension felt heavy for you that it made you aroused.

"Why so quiet now, sweetheart?" His hand caressed your leg up and down first, giving it light squeezes as it stopped on the side of your thighs.

"If you don't let me see your pretty face," Ran moved even closer. His rough hand quickly went to your hip, pulling it against his harshly, a small hiss went through his lips while yours were a yelp.

You bite your lips hard when you felt your underwear getting soaked with your own slick as Ran's hard cock twitching against his pants and at your ass, his heavy breathing against your now red ears made you feel really hot, especially when you're both under the blanket.

"I'm gonna have to punish you." The male finished with a small blow of hot air on your ears making you press your legs harder against your own legs while Ran held your hips so tight, his own bucking at yours made you mewl.

"You're so, haa, fucking cute." He grunts, his hand now moving again to tug the garter of your black panty. "Sexy thing." He mumbles with a smirk before inserting his hand inside, his forefinger and middle finger went up and down your wet folds.

"I've barely touched you and you're so fucking wet already, princess." You held back the moan that was about to escape your mouth while a drool slipped passed and trickled down on the corner of your lips.

"And so sensitive too." Ran chuckles deeply, almost letting out a growl while his cock kept twitching and throbbing inside his gray pants, wanting attention and to be touched by you so badly.

Ran never felt so turned on that he wanted nothing but to bury his cock deep inside your wet cunt, but then he remembers that you're still a virgin which made his eyes darken and thrust his hips harshly a couple of times on you.

The trigger of him being so horny must be because you're a virgin, he wants to cover you with hickeys or bruises. Just the imagination of it made him groan and his dick to release more pre against his pants.

He wants to fuck you so rough, shove his dick deep inside you until you beg him for no more as fat tears stream down your face while you whimper.

Ran must have some kind of corruption kink or something...

He starts to pepper your neck with wet kisses until it came to him biting it lightly first, then moved to biting it hard as bruises started to form on your neck, his fingers still playing with your cunt, rubbing your clit.

"Turn around and let me see your face, [Y/n]." He gruffly said, mentioning your name in a low voice which you obeyed after seconds had passed.

"Great expressions." He huffs, his half lidded beguiling eyes filled with lust bore into your teary-eyed ones.

"Come on, moan my name. Ran." He whispers, biting your earlobe. "Don't hold back. Say it. Moan my fucking name." With a growl, Ran inserts a finger inside in a harsh and quick motion that made you moan out his name loudly along with the sound of something hitting a wall or something..

"I knew you'd make a move on our pet " A voice said with a sigh, obviously shaking their head. "I can't believe you're making out without me." Another voice spoke with a huff.

'Pet? Who???' You question as the events that occurs last night came to you like lightning. Ran takes the blanket of him, but his hand didn't leave your pussy.

"Sorry, guys." Ran chuckles, flashing the stoic Rindou and smirking Kokonoi. "Nothing personal." He showed a subtle smile at them.

"But did you really have to come in and interrupt?" Ran moved his one slender finger inside you making you yelp as he inserts another one.

"Things were really getting good, you know." Ran pumps his fingers inside you for a while, making a moan slip out.

"Oh, what a cute voice." Kokonoi comments. "Bet she'll sound fucking sexy when a dick's finally inside of her." Sanzu states, a devilish smirk on his face while he leans against the doorframe.

"I was about to do that." Ran takes out his fingers and showed the men your glistening slick. "She's fucking tight." Rindou whistles, Koko lets out a chuckle, and Sanzu chuckles at the sight. Ran licks and sucks his fingers.

"Taste so damn amazing." Your face became bright red at their words, and when you decided to just stay still like you did earlier, the blanket was yanked away from you.

And just when you were about to cover your face face with a pillow, it was snatched away including the one you're using by the Haitani brothers. They laughed lightly at your expression.

You looked like a dog that had its ball of toy stolen away.

You huff and turn your back to the men, only to be met by a pair of mesmerizing emerald eyes boring into yours.

"Hello.." You greet shyly, a sheepish smile on your face. "Gorgeous." Sanzu chuckles, noticing the way Ran sent you a look as he flashes a smile.

"Morning, horny lady." You swear that you've never felt your eyes and ears so blessed, especially on mornings like this.

"I can die as a happy woman now." You blurt out suddenly which caused the men to go quiet while you continue to stare at Sanzu's face in a daze.

"Oh. Oh shit." You say, a nervous chuckle erupting from you as they just showed a smirk. "Anyways, uhm, something happened between us, right...?" you ask, a bit unsure since the memory you have kept ending with him on top of you on the bed, his fingers playing with you sensitive clit. You glance at Ran, who had his cheek resting on top of his palm, lazily grinning at you.

"Of course, princess." He said, his grin growing wide with mischief in it. "I told you that you were loud last night, right?" Ran states, leaning in close to you.

"Really loud." Rindou joins in with a deep chuckle making you blink your eyes. "...So, I really lost my v card???" You question, head slightly tilted to the side.

"You are such a cute pet." Sanzu comments, patting your head in the process. "No. You woke up in the middle of the night, saying that you were hot and uncomfortable in your clothes." Kokonoi starts

"You left Ran's room to find the bathroom while stripping your clothes off in the way." Sanzu joins in, the memory making them laugh a little. "And we were in the middle of a meeting. You gave everyone quite a show, even Mikey was amused." Rindou states, his hand patting your legs.

"You have a great body, so don't worry your pretty head over it, sweetheart." Ran finishes with a smile, and you swear that you could hear the heart in his sentence while your face goes bright red again, confusion written all over your face as you try to remember the memory.

"Ran excused himself to take your half naked body back to his room." Kokonoi adds making you groan while he obviously enjoys the reaction you're showing.

"And then you started shouting, I'm getting laid tonight! Ey!" Sanzu copies your actions last night with a small wheeze. "Then next thing we know you're singing something: I'm gettin' ripped tonight! R.I.P that pussy, ey!" Sanzu continues, his laugh getting louder as Ran joins in since he was there to witness it all.

"You kept repeating- shouting, singing the Dick word." Rindou chuckles while you wish that someone would bury you six feet in the ground...

"I didn't know that you were that desperate for a dick if it weren't for last night." Ran teases making you scowl at him as Sanzu's laugh echoed in the room.

"Same." You sigh out. "I'm disappointed that nothing really happened between us." Your honesty really amuses and making them speechless.

"We were about to make out last night, but you fell asleep on me." Ran sighs out, tapping your forehead with his forefinger. "I had to take care of junior by myself you know. Even today as well." The male glances at the three men in the room, who only replied by shrugging their shoulder or averting eye contact.

"Oh, you're all gathered here so early in the morning, surprisingly." A voice spoke from behind, catching everyone's attention. "I brought you breakfast." Kakucho enters the room with said breakfast in hand. It was your favorite and you're not even gonna question him on how he knows that information, knowing that he or everyone already did a background check on you since they're literally criminals, but that doesn't faze you.

Nope, not at all. You're only distracted by their beauty.

"You being here and bringing her breakfast is more surprising." Rindou blankly states making the others nod in agreement while the ravenette averts eye contact, cheeks slightly flushed.

"Shut up, man." He mumbles, brows furrowed slightly at the younger Haitani. "Just being thoughtful to...our pet." Kakucho adds, seemingly hesitant to call you like that while Sanzu starts to tease him, earning an icy glare from him.

"Aww! Aren't you a sweetheart!" You smile at the flustered male and took the food, immediately starting to eat as you're already hungry. Kakucho sighs in relief that you didn't seem hurt that he called you did...after all you did call yourself a pet last night and even signed up for it, so everything's well making him flash a little smile, a warmth feeling bubbling inside him as he watches you eat so happily.

"I'll just clean your sheets if it gets dirty, Ran." Said male replied with a go ahead at you, chuckling when he saw your cheeks puffed as it was filled with food. "Thanks for this, uh," With a troubled expression, you try to think or find the memory in your brain if the scarred man had already introduced himself to you. Kakucho chuckles at you.

"Kakucho Hitto, nice meeting you, [F/n] [L/n]." You beam at him and bow your head a little. "Pleasure is mine, sexy." Giggling at your own words, Kokonoi introduced himself as well along with the other men. Koko even told you the missing members' name and their feature so you wouldn't look so confused if they come to greet you.

As you eat, Sanzu takes your hand to take a bite and taste your chosen food. "Not bad." He said, scarred lips curving upwards into a smirk.

"I'm so not gonna get tired of that." You say, giving the pink haired a thumbs up. "Handsome men are the best!" You mutter, not really caring if they all heard it. Sanzu laughs again before grabbing your chin with his hand and pulling you in for a rough kiss, catching you off guard.

"Wha..." You squeak out, face flushed while he licked his lips in a seductive way for your eyes. "You're adorable." He whispered deeply in your ears, feeling his hot breath in the process.

"I can't wait to feel you and destroy that virgin pussy of yours." With a red face, you cover the lower part with your hand as you feel your panty dampen again.

"That's the only problem we have." Kokonoi hums. "Shouldn't you be doing your first with the person you love?" He ask making you wave your hand in front of your face. "Was about to that, but I don't really care about that anymore." You reply blankly. "Love is...Eh." Finishing the last bite of your breakfast, everyone suddenly got quiet, knowing your history with your ex.

They did a good job with their research about your background.

"Thanks again for this Kakucho." You flash a smile at the ravenette who nodded his head in return. "Yet you said that you love our boss." Ran sighs dramatically. "I'm hurt, princess. After the things we've been through?"

"Not much happened between us, Ran." You deadpan. Ran cups your cheek with a taunting smile. "Yet."

You scorn at him, a red hue spreading across your cheeks. "Anyways, about last night. I know what I did..." You trail. "And, I so don't regret what I said! I'm fine with giving my v card to any of you. There's no such thing as true love anyways! For me.." You exclaim, bitterly muttering the last part.

"As your pet, what'll be my job?" With a chuckle or smirk on their faces, Rindou gets close to you, thumb swiping across your lips, getting something out of it.

"I'm sure as hell that pleasing us is one of it." He states, his lazy grin growing wide as he licks the thumb he used against your lips, resulting for your face to heat up again for the nth time.

"And to obey our orders." Takeomi suddenly joins in, a cigarette in his mouth. "Guess you're all happy about the pet you got, hm?" He chuckles out.

"You're taking real good care of her." Takeomi glances at the smug Ran, getting the hint that he made a move on you.

"I'll check on you again later after I'm done with my work, [L/n]." The older man said before completely leaving with a slight wave of his hand.

"Now that I finally got a nice look at you, you're actually really pretty." An unknown deep voice comments. "Oh, thank you." You say bashfully at the tall man who grinned at you.

"I'll see you around." Mochi said, waving his hand at you as he also left. "Yes, see you around, sir!" You shout, then mumbling, "Is being handsome one of the requirements here..?"

"What are you all doing gathered here?" A quiet yet cold voice asked. "Get dressed and start working." Mikey/Manjiro Sano states making some of them sigh and leave the room, some of them bidding you a normal goodbye as some were flirty or naughty remarks making you laugh and roll your eyes.

Ran stands up, giving your forehead a kiss. "I'm gonna take a shower." He informs, sending you a playful wink next. "If you're both gonna make out in my bed, be sure to call me." You giggle, already getting used to this side of him.

"Shower well, sexy!" You say, giving a thumbs up making him chuckle then grunt. Mikey stomped the tall male's foot then entered the room to sit on the bed, acting as if nothing happened while Ran grumbles, "Can't feel my damn foot." On the way to the bathroom.

"You're quiet today." The white haired said making you flash a sheepish smile. "I'm really sorry! I don't know what came to last night. Sorry for disturbing your me—"

"You should strip around here more often." Stunned at his words, you just stared at Mikey. "It's entertaining."

In a flash, you hid your head under the pillow as you lie with your stomach on the bed while Mikey stared at you first, wondering what's up before his lips curled up into a small smirk.

"Are you sure about your decision?" He ask, obviously questioning the pet things making you lift the pillow a little and nod your head. "Yeah. You can just think of me as a desperate woman who wants to get laid... despite being surrounded by criminals." You reply quietly as a yelp suddenly came out of you.

"For a virgin, you act like a fucking slut." Mikey deeply said, his hand cupping the cheeks of your ass. "I wonder," He pauses to turn you over and pin your hands above your head so you wouldn't be able to hide your face.

"Which of us is gonna be your first." He lets go of one of your hands to guide it to his hardening cock. "Whose dick will be able to feel your pussy." Mikey leans, a soft peck on your lips.

"I'd be delighted if it were me." He notices the bruises on your neck that was made by Ran earlier, making him frown and bite it, hard enough to draw blood which he licked quickly. Mikey does it a couple of times, satisfied at the sounds you gave.

"Mikey..." Said male lets out a groan, hearing his name come out of your pretty lips. "That's right. Moan my name." Lifting your shirt up, enough to reveal your stomach, he starts to give it wet kisses then looked at you. His dark eyes were piercing as it stared straight into yours.

"Will you let it be me, [Y/n]?"

Finally, Mikey was able to touch, hold, and taste his childhood crush.

GRAND HEART AUTO VII

GAMER!NAGI SEISHIRO X GN!READER modern au, drabbles, hc and texts

five star rating | one of the most sought out genius streamer, NAGI, is also your boyfriend. he's talented at many things; making you deal with his pr, forgetting that he actually has to stream every once in a while, cutting his livestreams short just for cuddles... okay, maybe his work ethic isn't the best. to make up for it, sometimes he can be a good boyfriend – only sometimes – but he has made it his mission to love you for as long as he lives. sure, it doesn't outwardly show, but just know that he does, okay?

keyboard | modern au, fluff, crack, suggestive (will be marked), nagi is a streamer and pro gamer, often mentions of reo, nagi did not join blue lock, aged up nagi, crude themes, specific warnings will be provided, this is not a series just an au thing iykwim

TEAM

NAGI SEISHIRO [id: niffy] READY

YN LN [id: nelanie] READY

CHOKI [id: um... what?] UNREADY

𖥠 — headcanons | ⊹ — drabble/blurb | ⛶ — smau

MISSIONS ...

⛶ "soft" launch

⊹ needy

𖥠 such a showoff

more tba...

taglist — @lizbix @s6rine @ayatakanosstuff @inojinieeee @pookalicious-hq @vellichorira

SERIES MASTERLIST — APARTMENT 345. (ONGOING)

☆ starring: karasu tabito, otoya eita, yukimiya kenyu ☆

— 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰.

synopsis: when your shoebox of an apartment finally gives into itself, you somehow wound up finding an amazing loft whose rent is almost half of your old apartment, situated near your work, and actually has decent plumbing! the only catch? you have to live with three strangers—specifically, three men. current wc: 14.7k contains: fem!reader, she/her pronouns, feminine terms (woman, girl, princess), roommates au, modern au, fluff, crack, aged-up characters (mid-late 20s), future love complications :P taglist (open)

— 𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐬.

read the fine print : prequel

apples : pilot

weddings : episode two

... : episode three

... : episode four

... : episode five

... : episode six

more tba... *no confirmed scheduled updates, but will attempt to post a new episode every 1-3 weeks depending on my schedule.

— 𝐞𝐱𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐬.

interludes i. smoke : karasu

blurbs and headcanons ◦ headcanons i ◦ headcanons ii ◦ pet names ◦ guard dogs ◦ texts (o) ◦ toilet seat (o) ◦ hashed (k, o) (cw: marijuna) ◦ greening out (y) (cw: marijuna)

character playlists ↳ karasu ↳ otoya ↳ otoya's reccs for her ↳ yukimiya

© cheralith, 2025: under no circumstances do i allow my works to be plagiarized, modified, translated, or reposted on other social media platforms without consent.