✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* IT'S A MATCH! — Jjk Men On Dating Apps

Bondage with Gojo

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𝐖𝐖𝐖.𝐏𝐈𝐗𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒𝐒 | toji fushiguro

SUMMARY: toji finds out his pretty maid isn’t as innocent as he thinks once he walks in on her during her cam show.

CONTENT: f! maid/cam!girl reader, reader’s 20+, pwp, mean dilf!toji, praising, oral, (f!receiving) degradation, ruined orgasms/orgasm control, dumbification, humor, sir kink, breeding kink, toji’s a munch lol, humiliation, finger sucking, overstim, spanking, manhandling. (pet names: little girl, princess, pretty girl) wk — 5k!

NOTE: in honorrrr of hitting 1.6k i wrote dis, tysmm!!! this was so fun 2 write lmaaao. k bye enjoy🏃🏽‍♀️🏃🏽‍♀️

SONG INSPO.

Toji enters his well kept town home, tossing his keys near the kitchen counter while sliding off his shoes that clanked across the wooden floor. He came home a bit early this time from dealing with tiresome bounties, letting off a soft grunt from cracking his stiff neck. “Y/N—?” He’d rasp out, scanning his eyes around his broad, tidy leaving room. Usually you’d politely greet him, asking about his day — simple small talk. “Huh.” He’d huff, hanging up his coat. But that’s when Toji hears something though. It was coming from upstairs, and it sounded a lot like you. And you weren‘t talking. You were most definitely doing the opposite of that.

He made his way up the shaggy carpet stairs, before dragging his feet towards his bedroom. That’s where he heard the racket coming from. Toji’s initial thought was… what the hell were you doing in his room. You were giggling, speaking with such a high airy voice — and the the door was slightly cracked open. He stood there, and the words that came out of your mouth made him raise a brow. “Mmm.. Oh.. yeah… this is my boss’s room,” and your voice is very different than how you usually speak, carnal and pitched for your audience. “Fuck him…? I wish.. I’m just the plain housekeeper, heh—” and you let out a soft moan, fingering yourself. “He’s… so hot though. Wish you guys could see him like I do.”

“Really.”

You immediately freeze — seeing Toji stand in the doorway, his eyes staring at you sprawled out on his bed in a pretty cheetah print lingerie set. He’s never seen you like this before, and the cute petrified look on your face nearly brings a smile to his pink lips. “Shit… um… oh my god… sir…” You stammered, getting up from his king sized bed, rapidly clicking on your mouse before shutting the laptop entirely. “I uh…. didn’t think you’d be here until the evening….”

“Yeah I bet Y/N,” Toji replies, and he’s strolling his feet towards you, and his hands are buried in his pockets — staggering height intimidating you as his green eyes pierced into yours. Toji’s inches away from you now, and his eyes ogle at your raunchy revealing attire. “You’ve got some balls, girl. Doing this shit in my bedroom,” and you can’t even look at him in the eye, but you’d bet good money that he’s smirking at you. “Aw. What’s the problem, camgirl? Where’d all your confidence go?” You finally look up at him, feeling so small and tiny and Toji’s definitely smirking at you, eyes slightly squinting out of teasing.

You opened your mouth to speak — but nothing came out, and Toji makes you walk until your back taps against the wall. “C‘mon. Repeat what you said to your little viewers to me,” and he lets off a low chuckle, pulling on the string of your lingerie, popping it against your skin with a thwack before he coos with a mean taunting stare, “Filthy girl.”

“I—” You’d pathetically choke out, and his gaze is so stern, so full of authority and power. Within a snap, Toji knew how to make sure you knew your place. All you could reply with was a shy and awkward, “I… have no idea what you’re talking about, Sir.”

Toji lets off an irritated deadpan at your answer, before grabbing your wrist and snatching the toy that you hid behind your back this whole time. “Uh huh. And you think you can just play with yourself — on my bed. Where I fucking sleep,” and you let off a gasp, feeling Toji drag you back towards your cute little set up. “Turn it back on. Lemme meet your little friends.”

“Okay…” you’d mumble, lifting up the lap top. Toji’s directly behind you, and you feel him purposely brushed up against your ass as he stares down at the monitor — watching dozens of donations pile up and the chat flooding immediately once they caught a glimpse of Toji.

nanamisfatballsack: WTF GIRL THATS UR BOSS?????

m1ssionaryh@ter: *tipped 2848 hearts!* Woah I’m actually humping my screen rn

anonymoususer12: is he apart of the stream??? :0 so sexy…

[MOD] gojodaddy69: lmao i’m hotter but ok…

You felt your face get hot, feeling Toji’s eyes burn over your shoulder and onto the screen. “Yeah um this is my boss… I was telling you guys about earlier,” and you gasp, feeling Toji snake his hands towards your hips — pulling you closer to him as you spoke. “Toji… Fushiguro,” you’d mutter his name, nearly letting off a noise from feeling him start to graze his fingers up your waist, making you part your legs and plant your arms on the desk. “Uh.. I guess he can… co-host with me,” and you turn to look towards Toji. “If you want to—?”

“Sure thing,” he’d reply, and things just … sort …of …escalated. One moment the chat was thirsting all over Toji, bombarding him with a million personal questions — and the next, you’re sitting on his face, letting off the most lewd moans imaginable with your seven thousand viewers gassing and hyping you up.

You pant — plopped down on your boss’s Toji‘s face, and he’s laid back on the satin sheets with you facing towards your monitor with the most sheepish expression from how sloppy and filthy he was working his tongue. “Fuck…” you’d whine, and you briefly look down at Toji to see him already staring at you with low hooded emerald eyes. He lays his tongue flat before lapping you up, and you nearly whine, gripping onto his hair for leverage. “Y-You’re so.. sloppy.. with your tongue… fuck… Toji..”

He looks already pussy drunk, within minutes and he’s spitting all over your clit — hands pressed and embedded into the crevices of your thighs as you started to sexily away and rock your hips on his tongue. And you heard him grunt lowly from that, straddling his handsome well trimmed face.

“So…mmm.. sweet,” He’d grumble, and Toji was definitely skilled. His tongue had your brain short circuiting easily. It was the way he was so deep too — his button nose occasionally brushing against your folds, sucking everything out of your puffed pussy. His lips were pink and glossy, and you shudder — feeling him bring a thumb to rake down your achy slit. He looks so sexy, staring up at you, making sure to lick every spot to have you shivering. “Ride my face more, girl.”

“Okay…” You’d say in a whiney voice — and you glance at the chat and oh they’re trolling you, telling Toji to not let you cum and you moan, softly rocking your hips against his face. He looks so pretty underneath you — lapping his slick pink tongue up to tickle your pearl bud stuffed inside your cunt. “T—Toji…” you’d gasp, and he starts to suck hard against that particular spot, tightly gripping onto your hips. “I’m.. I’m gonna cum… your tongue is— too much.. oh my fucking..”

Toji runs another thumb down your slit as you grind against his face — and he looks up at you with a sleazy grin. “Nah. Don’t give me that. You can handle it,” and your eyes start to flicker and roam everywhere, and his chin’s all shiny because of your wet slick. Toji’s swiftly moving his head from left-to-right, and you started to feel dizzy, light headed even.

He then looks at the computer from upside down, a little smirk on his face while removing his lips from a brief second. “What do you guys say? Should I let her cum?”

You whine — furrowing your eyebrows at the suggestion while the chat started to flood again.

**395 new viewers just joined. say hi and support the stream! **

[MOD] gojodaddy69: lol don’t let her. should have heard the shit she was talking about u earlier

zoroscumbucket: nope! also what’s your number for research

hornywannabedilf: No ;) she’ll be ok.

“Y-You guys are— supposed to be on my side,” you’d cry out, and that’s all Toji needed to see, lapping your cunt up again. He’s happily suffocated between your thighs, letting off a soft grunt from feeling you yank on his obsidian black strands. You feel a bundle of nerves pulse throughout your body, and you cum anyway. “Fuck…. fuck fuck…”

“Did you just,” and he pulls his lips apart, pushing you lightly on your back and you land with a soft oof. “Oh. That’s cute,” he lowly utters, clicking his tongue, leaning in to stare at your spasming clit before giving it a squeeze. “The fuck you think you are cumming without asking permission first Y/N? You forget who you fuckin’ work for?”

You moan, panting heavily — and Toji’s sending you straight daggers, and it’s so sexy. He was dressed down in a tightly fitted black top with sweatpants. His dark hair stuck in his face, long strands nearly running down his arched brows. “S-Sorry Toji.”

“It’s Sir, girl. I don’t remember telling you that you can address me by that, whore.”

Your pussy twitched from his stern words embarrassingly — watching him pull you towards him, scanning his eyes on your pretty lingerie set.

“Oh.. uh.. sorry… Sir—”

He stands up, with you on your knees on the bed before Toji looks down at you with a grimacing lazy smile. “Open your mouth and taste yourself on my tongue,” and you do, feeling him lean in to give you a deep kiss. Toji pulls your neck up softly and he grunts, while you whine — and you taste the savory sweetened mess all on his tongue, your head slightly back. You could as well make out the brief tang of rum, moaning into his mouth while reaching down to touch yourself. “Watch it girl,” he pulls away, smacking your hand away and you pout with a whimper, dragging your hands towards his sweats instead. Ding! Ding! The sounds of the constant donations continued to repeat in the background — probably all thirsting over Toji and how they wish they were in your shoes. “Tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you.”

You let out soft pants, staring almost doed-eyed before glancing down at your bulge. “I— need your cock, Sir,” and you feel your body get hot once his mean gaze lingered. “Pleaseee.”

“You don’t need shit,” Toji growls, and he makes you plop on the bed on your chest. You let off a moan, feeling him being a spank to your ass while you glance up at the chat with a giddy grin and thumbs up. “Go ahead and arch your back for me. Make sure they see everything too.” and you do, seeing how much your viewers totaled within a few minutes. Probably twelve thousand now thanks to Toji — and then you sort of frowned, knowing you’d probably get banned for this sort of thing. Oh well. You took in a sharp breath, the blue light of your screen shining against your face once you let out a tiny gasp, your mouth opening ever so slightly — and he’s sinking himself inside.

“Oh.. m—my god,” you’d mewl out shakily, and he was huge. Toji lazily slid the g-string of your lingerie set aside, and he’s got a firm grip on your arched hips. The chat’s going ballistic, and you want to thank the dozens of donations that’s flooding the screen but you can’t — Toji’s so big it has you letting off a whimper, seeing yourself cutely arched on your screen with Toji behind you with such a menacing smirk. In his low voice he lets off a ‘Mmmm,’ and you press your glossy lips together. “I don’t.. think you’re gonna fit… fuck..”

“Nah. It‘ll fit. Trust me,” Toji coos, and the fat tip of his cock makes your brain so astonishingly dizzy — stretching you out in all ways possible, as if your puffy cunt was play dough. Once he starts up a pace, it feels like a truck slams into you, and you let off a cute squeak, feeling butterflies swell up inside your tummy. “Told ya. Nothing this slutty pussy can’t handle,” and he lets off a low grunt, feeling you wriggle your hips against him while gnawing on your lip. That only makes him smack your ass, earning a moan from you, “Don’t try and tease me with your hips, brat. I’m the one fucking you. Be a good little bitch maid and keep that arch f’me.”

You furrow your eyebrows slightly, feeling the plump tip of his cock prod deep between your spongey walls once he starts — and you drag out a whimpering little, “Yes.. sirrrr..” and he dips his hips into your slick pool of heat, before a single thrust makes you start to see pure splotches of white. Toji’s got a malice closed-lip smile spreading on his glossed pink lips watching you quickly get overly stupefied because of his dick. You’ve always suspected him of a packer but his girth was just delirious. Purely maniacal.

“This what you usually do whenever I‘m not home, yeah Y/N?” He asks between deep thrusts, and the bass in his voice drops immensely, rolling his hips to the hilt in a steady yet incredibly sloppy and rough rhythm that’s making the king sized bed create a mixtape of its own from the constant creaking. “Play with yourself in front of thousands of people to see on my bed?” And you moan, feeling his engorged cock tickle deep inside your gummy insides — between your folds, mouth nearly watering from how deeply good he was fucking you. “I know I fucking pay you good, slut. This your way of calling me cheap huh?”

You sit up but he spanks you again to keep your back arched for him. “N-No.. Sir. I—It’s not like that at all…” you’d pant, and your eyes dart towards the chat and they’re loving every second, so much donations are piling up, and you let out a sweet whine from when he reaches way past your clitoral hood and into your cervix to make you whimper. “I didn‘t expect… for you to just find out…” and you gasp, feeling a spark ignite near your tummy from one of his ramming hits against your pussy. “S—So soon,” before gawking at the chat with glossy eyes.

** getosfavoritemonkey along with 2959 others sent hearts and subscribed! thanks for joining! **

erensmommyissues: Aw she looks like she’s about to cum already xD

sugarydaddy_18582: I can do better than that Tojer Fushigoowoo guy Y/N ;) Let me be ur daddy xx

y/nhatepage: what a baby loool, toji pick me instead

“Uh huh,” Toji murmurs, and his pace is quick and erupt — effortlessly making your toes curl from the steep back shots. He makes your head plop onto the soft thick satin sheets, and you moan from feeling him drill into your soaked cunt while huffing out vexed breaths. “Contemplated about firing your ass all week but now that I’m fucking you, this pussy’s too good for that,” and he can feel you twitching around him, walls spasming and you’re for sure about to cum. It‘s probably been about a few minutes, and you were already about to bottom out because of his tremendous size — his fat girth easily stretching you out as if your pussy was some sort of certified gymnast. “Dirty girl. You better give me an apology for being such a lousy maid or you’re not gonna cum.”

You shudder, parting your spit-glossed lips while your eyes roamed everywhere around the room with a little pout forming on your face. “I—I‘m sorry…Toji.”

He spanks your ass and you moan from the recoil, voice all breathy and shaky before correcting yourself with a whiney, “S..Sir…”

“Keep talking.” He grunts, and his hips has your mind in a full blown daze — you’re completely bewildered from his impactful thrusts that make you make out the sweetest noises for not only him but your crowd of a audience as well. Some were commenting that you were being dramatic, how it couldn’t feel that good but it definitely did. His cock reached spots where you had no idea could be reached. This reaction was definitely real, regardless of how dumb and lewd you looked, nothing was being exaggerated. Toji’s dick had you stupid and feral, without question.

The sorcerer killer‘s got you jittering against the bed, hearing your sweet little ah’s and r-right there’s — about to cum a thunderstorm, and you can barely arch your back so he leans in to bring a rough scarred hand to your throat, safely applying enough pressure, but enough to make your moms get louder. “S—Sorry for.. ah.. playing with myself in your room Sir,” and as you’re speaking you nearly choke out a incoherent sob, so close and his crown head of his cock repeatedly thrashing and slapping against your sensitive pearly nub didn’t help. “Really sorry.. won’t happen again… promise…” and you swallow thickly, getting wet from watching him press up against your face, making you stare at yourself and him through the monitor. “.. Hafta cum.. lemme cum, Sir.”

“You’re right. It won’t happen again,” he spats back sternly, and the sounds of irregular and violent skin slapping and little murmuring whines and whimpers reverberate around the room dramatically. Toji’s groaning, feeling himself close too, and his hands still wrap around your neck like a necklace, bring a kiss to your cheek out of spite before darting his green sinister eyes towards the chat that’s desperately craving his attention. “You guys think she deserve to cum?”

Immediately if fills up with a mix of yes and no’s, and you’re fighting back tears from the extensive amounts of pleasure — tilting your head up a bit, before Toji lets out a quick, “Cum for me.”

You’re confused at the slightest, but you were about to let go — and Toji flips you over with a whimsical grin on his face. “Kidding. Don’t fucking cum. Hold it,” and you’re on the verge of cumming — so so close, you let out a perplexed whine. “I said don’t fucking cum yet Y/N,” he mutters in a husky voice, and you feel him slip out of you, pulling you closer towards him, dragging you towards his lap. You’re almost sobbing, and Toji is of course all turned on from your mere disappointing tantrum, red angry tip twitching from you poutingly realigning yourself on his length before stroking your hair. “Aw, I know. I know. You wanna cum but you’re gonna have to wait,” and his voice is an almost form of a baritone, brushing against your ear, and you moan while he gives the laptop a sly smile before gripping his same hand around your throat. “Ride me, princess. Show your little fans who’s pussy this really belongs to and I’ll think about letting you cum.”

“But I—” you’d frown, lips glistening with spit trembling as you spoke. But you stopped talking immediately once Toji’s staring at you with that full menacing gaze that makes your heart race and your cunt twitch, fully synchronizing together to make sure you know your place. “Yes.. sir..”

“Good… girl,” he grunts, feeling you start to rotate your hips — delicately bouncing on his lap. The tip of his cock’s sending you another planet, and it’s not long before you start babbling again. Toji slithers a hand down to your wet cunt, swabbing up some of your wet slick before he brings it to your lips. “Tired of your whiney voice. Open your slutty mouth,” and with a soft pout you do, eyes going half lidded once Toji shoves his middle and index finger inside your mouth. You moaned in a muffled state, grinding and rocking your hips against his pelvic bone while curling your tongue with his digits stuffed down your throat. The angle he’s got on your pussy has his cock continuously hitting deep against you. “Uh huh. Put your mouth to good use, that’s it— f..fuck.”

The hits you make against his lap is so sloppy, it makes him get taken aback for a brief second before pressing his free hand on your waist. Toji’s absentmindedly playing with the flappy straps of your lingerie — and as you’re swiveling and plopping up and down on your boss‘s cock, pummeling so far and deep into you, you practically gag on his fingers that’s prodding way back against your throat and you moan feeling him pull his digits upwards. “You’re so filthy,” he grunts with a smug grin, smearing your spit all over your lips with his coated glistening digits, watching you pant from his dick that’s tapping against your g-spot. “You like taking things down that tight little throat, don‘t you, girl?”

“Yeah..” You’d shamelessly nod, and your back starts to simultaneously arch again, grabbing his hand. “Put it back i—”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Toji mutters, smacking your hand away before reaching down to rub circles on your cunt. You whined, legs ultimately shaking — and it felt so good, regardless of how infuriating it was. “Dunno if little camgirl sluts like you should cum on my cock,” he chuckles, and you can’t stop whining — your legs feeling like they were about to fall off, feeling Toji’s long black strands rub against your cheek. He can’t stop the little smug smile on his face, watching you keep up a cute raunchy pace of bobbling up and down on his cock, briefly focusing your eyes at the shiny expensive ceiling fan. “Beg for it.”

“Tojiiiii p-please.. I— can‘tttt..” You’d moan, and the way he brings you closer towards him by the throat, warm minty breath fanning against your neck makes your pussy throb. “Don‘t… wanna be edged anymore.”

“Y/nnnnnn. Shut the fuck upppp,” He mocks your tone, matching the way you speak — and you pout at how exaggerated he was, you glance at the chat and everyone‘s so horny, encouraging Toji to keep edging you, it was horrid. Toji groans, feeling you move your hips in a slow rotation, reaching down to play with yourself at least but it’s as if he predicts your movements everytime, slapping your hand away. “I don’t care what you don’t want. Don’t be a dumb bitch. Y’know how to take orders from me,” and you’re blissed out, doe eyes almost rolling down your skull while your body jostled above him. Toji brings a hand towards your breasts, grabbing them with a squeeze before rubbing the pad of his thumb against your hardened nipples, staring dead at the monitor. “Beg me to cum or you’re not getting shit from me, princess.”

Your facial expressions puckered, feeling the circles and squares around your clit more intense and you were gonna cum again — and it feels so good, you feel the coil of tension deep in your gut about to snap. “Please…” you’d sniffle and your voice sounds so small — knees ever so bucking, and your soft breathing is having a race with itself. “Let me cum please…. h-have to cum.. ‘M sorry for being a… slutty maid—” and Toji stares at you with a sly smile to keep talking. He found this entire thing amusing. Then again, it’s Toji. Of course he did. “Need you to let me cum Sir.. please please.. I need it— my pussy needs it, Sir.”

“You need it?” Toji lowly mocks your voice, watching your face fall from his constant teasing.

“Want… you… to make me fucking cum… Sir.” You spoke through gritted teeth, and Toji raspy chuckles, hearing the annoyance in your voice.

Toji stops rubbing against your clit before making you press your back against him — feeling your hips swerve and grind against him happily before running a hand down your waist. “Go ahead then. You can cum, pretty girl,” and there’s tears poking in your eyes once you finally let loose, slowing your movements down to cream all on Toji‘s veiny twitching cock. A bundle of nerves within you are on fire — sending you cute little messages in your empty brain that you’re finally cumming, and your orgasm is so loud, you don’t even realize it. Your gummy walls squeeze against his cock from it and Toji lets off a groan, and feels your pretty little cervix dilate in the process. “Good girl,” and he moans once you still ride him out of spite — and Toji playfully puts you in a headlock with a raspy chuckle. “Stay still girl. Don’t fucking try me. Now it’s my turn to cum,” and you moan — feeling him bring a hand towards your head to make you stare at him. “You‘ll let me shoot a messy load inside this pussy, won’t you Princess? I wanna feel you.”

“P-Please,” You’d eagerly nod, purely slumped against his chest. Toji‘s so warm, and you can barely even keep up with your own breath. “Breed me, Toji. Need your cum.”

“Breed you,” he repeats, in the form of a repulsed question, and you’re facing him now — staring at his flushed face that was merely glistening with a few sweat beats. He’s gawking at you with low hooded eyes, the sexy slanted scar near the side of his mouth pursing and indenting against his pink lips whenever he spoke. “Pft. That’s what you brats say now, huh,” and his voice is all hoarse and condescending. Your head’s buried into his neck — engulfing in his manly scent while dragging your nails down his back freely from the constant stimulation. His cock‘s tapping against your sweetened spots each and every time, making you get so dumb. So incredibly dumb, that you just keep saying his name over and over. Toji Toji Toji T—Toji… Sir.. sir Toji… “Heh, Okay. I‘ll breed this slutty pussy,” and his eyes dart towards the screen that had around fourteen thousand viewers now — the chat‘s continuing to flood with comments. “You guys better watch closely,” and he grunts, feeling him about to shoot. “About to leave a thick load inside your dumb little host girl.”

Toji‘s towering on top of you now — making you lie on your back, and he grunts lowly, feeling the multiple silver tungsten rings press against your thighs. “I‘m so full because of you,” he’d huff out, and you feel his hips start to stutter — the hefty fat base of his cock slapping against your cunt after each thrust. You moaned, watching Toji stare at you, about to burst any minute, making sure you kept your legs sprawled out all pretty for him. “Gonna swell up this fucking tummy with my seed.” he groans, and his voice is almost shaky, staring at you with lust-driven eyes. Toji pistons his hips — his tip smacking against your cervix purposely to see you make such cute facial expressions.

“F—Fuck.. Toji, wanna feel you—”

“Shut up and you will,” He snarls, and you let off a whine, feeling him push your knees to your chest. Toji plowed into you from a deep and thorough angle that makes your mouth start to open, and the sounds echo around the dim empty room featuring the sounds of a constant pat pat pat. Your pussy‘s squelching — before he growls out an angry, “Fuck,” and you feel him start to shoot a warm load deep inside, stuffing you full. Toji leans in, and his pearly white canines sink gently into the side of your neck — suppressing his low slutty moans. Your body twitches, and Toji’s thick velvety load was so much, he was still spurting inside. His breath is shaky and heavy, coating your skin with gentle fang marks before he reaches down on your tummy. “F-Fuck.. little girl.”

You let out a soft moan, and he’s still pouring into you — painting your spongey insides white tremendously, making you dizzy with your legs wrapped around his slim waist. Toji’s even speechless for a moment, and he starts to bombard your trembling body with kisses, before licking a stripe up your neck. “Toji… so full..”

He groans, sitting up before dragging you towards the monitor — pulling out beforehand and making you arch in front of the camera for everyone to see his thick gooey cum oozing out of your pulsating slit.

“Look at that,” he‘d purr, bringing a spank to your ass — sliding a thumb down your nub for everyoje to get a good view and you moan, watching Toji‘s eyes skimmer though the rapid chat messages that kept piling up every millisecond. You probably got so much money from the donations, and it was almost twenty thousand people watching your little stream, and you knew it was all thanks to Toji. You‘d never even imagine this many people coming to watch — but it was like as soon as Toji came in, that was what ignited everything. “Filled her up nice and good,” he hums, giving you another spank before rolling his eyes at the chat. “Nothing you loser bitches can‘t do.”

touyaslongburnedshlong: Y/n’s so sexc. Where do I sign up

princess_kit137: TOJI ur so hot. someone call animal control because my 🐱 keeps howling :((( <3

sukunahasafatdickbutitstinks: *gifts 500 click coins*

[MOD] gojodaddy69: yeah man uh be ready to pay child support LOL

You sit up — but Toji stands behind you, making you arch your back on your desk, putting his hands on your waist as you’re bent over the desk, almost shoved into your lap top.

“Alright. They had their fun, now turn that shit off.”

You looked at him, furrowing a brow with doe eyes before he’s glaring at you, and who were you to not listen to your boss. You get the hint, turning towards your beloved audience with a timid grin. “Heh.. um… sorry guys.. I have to g—” and you start moaning feeling Toji drill back inside of you, stuffing the dripping cum back inside your tight cunt — and you let off a whine, grabbing onto the desk before scrolling your mouse around frantically. “Thank you guys for y—your support and stopping by…” and Toji’s spanking you to hurry up and you bite on your lip. “Okay.. I have to go… love you guys.. I‘ll stream… later this week I think… bye...”

Clicking the bright pink colorful button that read ‘END Y/NLOVAAA’S STREAM?’ it successfully ended, and you closed your laptop shut with shaky hands, moaning from Toji‘s hard thrusts while your pussy clamps and clenches down every single time. You’re ramming against the desk — feeling already so stuffed full, and Toji grabs a nice chunk of your ass because spanking it again, getting hard everytime from watching it jiggle right before his dark green eyes.

“Good girl,” he lets off in a low voice, pushing you further into the desk. You whined, and he makes you out your hands behind your back, holding them with one hand while his cock continues to puncture inside your tight walls that’s spasming and convulsing because of him. “I‘m not done filling up this slutty pussy though,” he breathes through a clenched jaw, raising his head up a bit slightly before spanking you again. “My slutty pussy.”

𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 & 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎: “𝐈 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐖𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐘 𝐌𝐄” | 18+

𖥸 Two gym workers, also known as the strongest two men in the gym, have their eyes set on buff girl! reader and are enchanted by her legendary muscles.

𖥸 wc: 6.3k

𖥸 cw: oral (masc & fem receiving), afab reader, female bodybuilder reader, thirsty buff feral boys, gym mention, muscle worshipping the reader, big thighs, sweaty muscles, semi public sex, threesome, creampies, pure filth, horny buildup on all sides <;3

𖥸 (As you can see by my illustration this is v v v self indulgent I hope you enjoy) 💪

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Front desk worker Gojo sighed as he looked at you, lifting heavy on one of your upper body days after a long day of college work.

“Geto,” his teeth were clenched to bite back a moan as he saw your back muscles flex while you set down the dumbbells and picked up heavier ones to lift for your next set.

Geto was already looking at you. “I know.”

“No, hah, look,” Satorou nodded downward as his fellow personal trainer glanced down to see a hardening bulge in his work pants.

Geto smirked. “I know, she’s fucking jacked. It’s so hot.”

“ I mean,,, look at her arms…gonna make such a mess on myself if I keep watching, she’s so strong, shit” he whispered in response.

The white-haired man was glad the front desk area could conceal his fat boner from gym goers.

You pressed your bodyweight above your head for rep after rep, the pump in your arms and shoulders giving the two trainers you didn’t know were watching from the front desk, pumps as well…in their third legs.

“Hope she stays late so she can help us close.”

“Or just closes those thunder thighs around my face, that’s fine too. She can break my nose, honestly.”

“Maybe in the sauna so she can get her sweat all over me.” Geto pulled his man-bun tighter like he would if he could eat you out right now. He totally would. He’d storm out towards you, rip off the spandex that barely covered your ass, and eat you with reckless abandon.

“Fuck yeah, I want in.”

Their cocks both jumped when they saw you bend over to grab your phone and water bottle, music blasting in your earbuds, spandex getting swallowed by cheeks sculpted by the gods…or just squats and deadlifts, that jiggled as you walked across the gym towards a machine.

They prayed that you looking at your phone and smiling was because of a favorite song and not because of a partner’s text.

When your little glossy lips wrapped around the straw of your water bottle and your throat constricted to chug as much water as possible, you looked so adorable and unknowingly provocative.

You would wrap your cute hands around the handles of the machine , both handles that were quite thick on that piece of equipment that had them think, what if instead of those bars were their extremely girthy cocks in each of your hands? Your fingers would certainly not be able to touch then. Your grip strength was probably amazing.

They wanted you to straddle them, not the damned seat. Wanted to see the straight face you made as you worked out, falter. Just once. Would you look determined to take them down your throat, or submissive? Wondered if you had silenced your little grunts and noises on purpose. They wanted to make you scream, cry, bounce on their cocks, put your strong legs to work.

Geto decided to make his rounds putting plates that people didn’t put away, back on the plate holders. He would see how dutiful you were putting the 5 pound plates away by the other 5’s, sometimes moving the huge 45’s with ease so everything was organized. Good girl. He knew you were so subtle in looking at him, except for the day he was squatting with Gojo. You were so silly pretending like you were just taking a flex selfie in the mirror when in reality you were trying to get them both in the frame so you could touch yourself to them when going through your camera roll later. Little minx. Suguru was keen to the games you’d play. How you’d “refill your water bottle” as if it was that empty, just so they could see you pass by, and just so you could look at their fat asses and big legs on the way back to your exercise, wishing you could spot and be right behind the big men squatting an insane 6 plates like it was nothing. On each side. Not total. They were the strongest in the gym and it made your pussy clench around nothing seeing how they one-upped each other and had fun while they lifted weight that would probably break national and world records.

He was keen to how you’d smile hearing how encouraging and sweet Satorou was in training his clients. The way you played it cool in saying hi to them tonight and tried not to make too much eye contact with Geto. He was sure that when you put your phone near the scanner, which was near where he sat by the computer monitor, that he caught a whiff of your juices on your fingers. Or maybe it was a figment of his imagination. No, Gojo smelled it too, biting his tongue instead of his lip so you wouldn’t see. Sighing when you went to the locker rooms. If they didn’t have such strong legs they’d already be wiped out because you made their knees feel so damn weak.

They would always perv out when you’d walk by in your baggy clothes, wondering what little shorts and small top you’d have today when you took off the pump covers. It was like unwrapping a little present and it gave them so much joy each time when your pretty face came in, then turned into a game face, and you went through the process of peeling off clothing layers to reveal a Greek goddess physique. Gojo wanted to unwrap the entire candy, taste your gooey drippy center.

Geto talked to you the months you prepared for your bodybuilding competition, seeing you practicing your posing, the days your veins and shredded muscles would stand out so sexily on your figure. You were so dedicated, and so nice, even though you were really looking forward to eating an entire feast of junk food after the show and probably felt so grumpy the more you neared the show day. It’s an entire process to manipulate your salt and water intake, your entire lifestyle, the way you’d manipulate the amount of rice you ate, the posing practice, the cutting out your favorite foods, the glamming up and buying of a sparkly suit. You’d wear your heels in the gym and practice your posing sometimes in the yoga room when it was empty. And when you told him casually you had won first place, he had expected nothing less.

Now here you were, growing, getting stronger, and your ass was begging to be grabbed.

He knew because he was right behind you, and you turned around, looking up and smiling. He waited as you took out a Bluetooth ear bud.

“You’re so helpful in putting the plates back, but please conserve your energy for your sets, miss hulk.”

He knew you wouldn’t take it the wrong way. Like you couldn’t handle putting plates on and off the machine. He knew you could handle everything all on your own. But this was his way of being a gentleman whilst acknowledging your muscle mommy status.

“Aww are you sure?” Your voice was so sweet, yet so full of some sort of tension. Your eyes looked down to Geto’s knockers of pecs, then back up to admire his half up man bun look. You wanted to pull his hair.

“Positive, you crazy beast. Shoulders are looking massive by the way, y/n.”

He gave you a fist bump and you both thought of how big his fist looked compared to yours.

“Oh stop, just trying to get your jojo delts, big boy.” Big boy. He tried to suppress his blush at the stupid nickname but blood can’t be manipulated unless you lift weights or get a release of sorts.

He winked. “I’ve got some new forearm equipment and cable pieces if you just ask Gojo or me. I’ll stop harassing you, nice to see you tonight.”

“Not bothering me at all, I’ll definitely go up. Also I know it’s close to closing I can help you guys, I feel bad, or I’ll try and hurry up—“

“My lady, please don’t rush. Let us take care of it. We’ve got you. Finish your work out on your own time. It’s your planet, we’re just living in it. If you need extra weight me or Gojo will be up there for you to grab.” You giggled.

He spoke with so much authority, with such smoothness and wit. All whilst being such a dork. So you nodded and went back to sit on the machine to start your set.

He saw the sweat mark on the machine seat, like the freak he is, with the outline of your ass and wet little pussy printed on there all pretty. You still had that ripe aroma, except now you smelled even sweeter up close… and breedable. He made his rounds in cleaning and reported back to Gojo.

Gojo smiled. It was so dead in this fucking gym. The night crew of Maki and Nobara (seriously when was their wedding) and the buff guys, including the best gym bros Yuuji and Todo, said their goodbyes ten minutes before closing. True gym etiquette. And you, the only exception to the policy? You were so focused. You took some pre-workout caffeine mix right before your arrival so you were having major tunnel vision in pushing the weights and getting maximal blood flow. Bicep vein popping. Sharp lines and ab lines. You had no idea they locked the doors.

Half of the gym lights were off and that’s all you knew, so you wrapped it up and began to put the weights back.

“Oi, y/n,” Gojo hoped you heard him a little as he waved. You smiled at the snow-haired man. Putting your headphones away, “ay vanilla gorilla, what’s up?”

His crystalline eyes glimmered darkly for a second. “So creative as usual. You flatter me, but my back ain’t as big as a silverback yet. Hey. Join us in the sauna; it’s our closing routine. It’ll be relaxing.”

You thought for a second.

He added, “we can even get some late night Korean bbq if you’d like as well, if you can.”

You grinned. “Right now I’m on that see food and eat it meal plan so I’m totally down!!!”

The corners of his lips turned up slightly. “Great, see you there.” He whispered something under his breath. Princess. But you didn’t know if he said that. Nah. in your dreams.

He smelled so good. You wanted him and Geto to throw you around and manhandle you so badly but it would probably never happen. They probably had girlfriends and saw you as a gym buddy. But still.

“Mm, Geto?”

The 6’2” brunet near the deadlift platform perked up.

“Yes, my ladyship?”

Gosh his silly little titles for you made you feel so conflicted because you wished, hopelessly, that he was flirting with you.

“While I still have a pump are you able to help me take a flexing video? It’s hard to do it myself.”

“No, ma’am, actually no filming allowed in the gym,” he winked, taking your phone and cueing you to move back towards the best lighting.

You made your flexes and he whistled and hyped you up. When you were done and he handed you the phone, you laughed.

“Wow you made me not look like a midget in this video like anyone else would when they help me!”

Geto smirked. That probably includes her exes who want to look good themselves but could give a rat’s ass about her, he mused. How one of them decided he no longer wanted to lift with her and felt he was too good for her, was beyond him. It should’ve been the other way around.

“Well, I can always help you out in any way you need, film you whenever you’d like. Just promise to send me them too so I can learn how to pose from you,” he wiggled his eyebrows. Your heart skipped a beat. Was he joking around? You had no idea.

“Oh I suck at posing, but if you think I’m good then I guess I am and I’ll send you my boring flexing videos,” you laughed.

Your blush deepened when his dark eyes sparkled. “Well I think you’re fucking perfect, y/n.”

Your oblivious ass laughed and shook your head in absolute stupid denial. You were confident in yourself but he was just so friendly and hot it made you question everything and you had to keep telling yourself to stay calm.

Plus how ugh, he and Gojo are so tall, and he smelled so crisp, so yummy. How were you going to survive in a little stuffy sauna where scents were only magnified, and your arousal will get only hotter in the hot ass room?

You swallowed thickly and felt wetness trickle in your panties when you saw Gojo sitting with his head back in the sauna, white hair let down in messy damp waves framing his oceanic eyes. His shirt? Nowhere to be seen. Instead a little black towel draped over his neck to bring out his bright hair. Sweat and moisture began to glaze over rippling abs and a wide expanse of thick, carved muscles.

You took your shoes off. As was the policy, and set your stuff down besides your water bottle. Then opened the door and stepped in.

“Oh, hi guys,” Gojo smiled, unfazed by how hot it was in the room.

“Hey,” you chirped, stepping on the wooden level of seats that Satorou’s head was near, sitting in the corner so you could see both him and Geto, who. Also. Had his shirt. Off. Great. When did he find the time to do that? Made sense though, since they wore polos. Didn’t want to make their work outfits too nasty, you figured.

You were throbbing down there, and watched as Geto took off his hair tie, his hair fell down gorgeously, and he held his hair tie between sharp canines as he put it up into a high pony with some wisps hanging out.

“What’s the matter, tough girl?” Geto’s teasing voice lilted as he smirked up at you.

“Oh, I just like your hairstyle.” Geto chuckled, satisfied. Not checking your big daddy arms out…or anything like that.

“How was your shoulder and back workout, Y/n?” Gojo asked.

Oh so he was watching you. You never told him what you were working on today. Hopefully your form was alright. Well of course it was, you have perfect technique and lift slowly and as controlled as possible, even during explosive lifts with heavy weights. Of course he wouldn’t question it either. But you were such a perfectionist who worked hard in all you did.

“It was great! Lifted heavy for both. I know it’s a big range of muscles to work out but considering I missed yesterday’s shoulder day I had to make it up by raw-dogging both.”

Geto thought, excellent word choice, she can raw dog two muscle groups at a time, huh. Maybe raw-dogging two more big muscle groups wouldn’t hurt.

He smiled, voice so deep, “I bet your rear delts are going to be so sore tomorrow.”

“Hopefully. I’m trying to get big melon delts like you guys, and being sore would be a reward,” you knocked on his shoulder as if it was metal and hissed, shaking off your hand like your knuckles hurt, making the two men crack up at your antics.

“All lies. We’re trying to get as big as you. Say, Y/n, how does one get such massive traps like yours?” Gojo’s left arm rested and stretched out on the platform you sat on. His hand was inches away from your butt. So close, yet so far.

You let out a little laugh, getting goosebumps in even the hot-ass room. “Stress and carrying my team at work or in school group projects.”

“Really? I can help you get some of the knots out if you’d like.“

“Damn for free? You look like you’d be good at massaging too.”

“I could be.” His hand went from being so close to you to patting the space next to him. You stood up and hopped all the way down to the ground like a lil cat.

“While I’m up I’ll turn the heat up, too.”

“Great idea,” Geto chimed. “Reaping the sauna benefits more.”

They both checked out your ass hungrily and shamelessly, practically drooling and wanting to just grab you by the thighs and devour you with their hands.

You didn’t know because they were so much better at looking at your ass without getting caught, than you were at looking at their asses without getting caught.

You settled with your back to Gojo on the spot he patted, and felt big, heavy, rough hands engulf almost your entire shoulders. You took a deep breath as he kneaded you so well, pin-pointing all your pressure points that made you react under his big fingers. He was firm and applied the perfect amount of pressure. Maybe you’d milk it so he’d manhandle all of your sorest muscles. You wanted it to hurt a little bit.

“Can you possibly go a little bit harder?”

“Like this?” He upped his pressure and squeezing of your shoulders perfectly.

“Mm, perfect,” you were trying not to moan as a hand snaked up to encircle the back of your neck and squeeze. You shivered. Your neck was so sensitive and he was sending chills up and down your spine with every movement.

“You’re so fucking tight, y/n, shit,” Gojo’s husky voice sounded like he was calling something else tight, not your traps. “Sugu, come feel this.”

A set of hot, calloused hands that were just as large and heavy rubbed skillfully at your slowly loosening traps.

You accidentally let out a little mewl, and it was not lost on the men how your neck relaxed in his hold and your head tilted obediently however he’d move around your neck.

“Wow she is tight,” Geto’s smirk was in his voice behind you. As he pretended to ignore the little mewl that drove him nuts just now. He was wrapping you around the tip of his finger.

“You guys are so good at this! The stress is leaving my body seriously,” you were trying to act normal, like you didn’t just moan right now.

“Come to us if you ever need to let off some steam,”

“I certainly will.” You were trying to play it cool to not ruin your friendship with the super nice gym workers, but you were getting so wet and they had so much fucking testosterone and their voices were so low in your ears, they were so so close to you, and it was getting really difficult to fight off your wet dreams all these nights of them having their way with you, ramming into you and taking turns cumming inside you, maybe spit roasting you, and and and ……

Your lids became heavy and you were throbbing, hoping they didn’t notice you squeezing your legs together. Geto’s huge hand was now almost choking you from the front, as his other hand’s thumb rubbed deeply into your pressure point on your back.

“Nnrggh, right there, fuck,” your back arched a tiny bit.

“Aww, I love making you feel good, am I better than Gojo at this?” His silken voice rumbled playfully in your ear, pretending not to know you basically were moaning and begging for his touch. You sounded so pretty when you begged.

“Hey, not fair. Y/n, how does your lower body feel?” Gojo was now in front of you, kind of pouting with his blue kaleidoscope eyes boring into yours. He will one-up his gym bro, in all things including making their shared crush feel good and pulling noises from her.

You hissed through your teeth as Geto rubbed circles down your spine, which made your hairs stand on end from your erogenous zones being touched. You had no idea he was so close to you waiting for you to lean back onto him.

“S-sore as always, my hips feel tight as hell, also this can seriously not be free”

Gojo chuckled. “For you, doll, anything is free. Look, I can massage those tree trunk legs so you don’t feel that tightness, I bet walking sucks for you.” If only he made walking really suck for me.

“Holy shit I can’t pass—pass up a deal like that,” your voice was a bit higher from arousal and you found yourself stumbling on your words. Hello, brain? Why aren’t you working properly? We’re all just friends.

Gojo looked lost in thought with an unreadable hazed expression over his eyes, thumb stroking his chin for a second. “Mm, good. Anything for our favorite tigress. You work so hard.”

Big hands began to squeeze at your thighs, slender fingers kneading , thumbs pressing into your soft inner thighs. You had to really control your breathing through your nose so it didn’t look labored since Gojo was right in front of you.

Geto’s hands were at your hips, thumbs pressing into your lower back.

“Shit, ‘to, you need to feel how muscular her thighs are. Y/n flex. Holy shit!!! That is such a flex!”

Your voice cracked a little in trying to hold back your moan, and you giggled. “Thank you, I just do a shit ton of squats and deadlifts.”

“Such a dedicated pretty lil muscle mommy,” Geto murmured, hands moving higher up your thigh near the hem of your tiny shorts. Awfully close to—

“Y/n is a muscle mommy indeed, like crush me between these thighs like a watermelon. You need to be worshipped 24/7.” Both men were admiring your pretty legs in those tiny, tiny shorts.

“I um—n-no I don’t,” you stammered as the heat of the sauna, the way Geto kneaded your thigh a mere couple inches away from your pussy, the electric bolt sent to your clit, your feeling of his big heavy thick arm holding you still under your arms, the praise, the tension, it was too much and your voice was thick with lust. But theirs were thicker.

You flipped the straw to your water flask open and it hissed, squirting cold water all over your face, and you barely flinched. Geto’s thumb wandered to near your pussy lip and you whimpered, sucking on your straw to unsuccessfully distract yourself, and spread your legs farther instinctively.

Gojo had enough. The tension, he agreed, was too damn much. “Fuck. Such a good girl, you look so good like this. Done pretending I don’t need you right now.” You looked delicious in the dark sauna as your brain was slowly processing what he just said. With water dripping down your chin, between your pecs, over some of your thighs, the rest of your body covered in a glowy aura of sweat. Dressed well but disheveled. A goddess walking the earth, and the only woman to show him what angels looked like. He brought a hand up to cup your jaw and without warning, crashed his soft, glossy lips onto yours. Your lips danced as if they were lost dates in a ballroom and he parted the kiss, icy blues peering into your soul. “Taste so sweet.”

Two of Geto’s big, thick fingers suddenly shoved into your slick walls, and your jaw dropped in shocked pleasure. Gojo, ever the opportunist, diving back in and using his thick tongue to explore your mouth. You began to kiss back, moaning as the ebony haired man started to move his fingers inside you, trying to find your sweet spot. Your hands had to brace yourself behind you, and you grabbed onto Geto’s meaty thighs. “Mmm Geto—Gojo—“ your voice was muffled as you kept making out with the white haired man. A gasp and tightening of your grip on his thighs indicated that Geto found it, and he took his fingers out of you to taste your slick.

“Damn Gojo, you’re right. She tastes delicious.”

He kissed and bit on your neck, grabbing handfuls of your ass and groaning. “Lady, we’ve been wanting you ever since you stepped foot in this gym years ago.”

His mauve eyes were so intense as you looked up at him since he made you face him. Hold on. Wait. They were working that long ago? You never noticed. But clearly they noticed you long ago. How long were they pining after you?

You hummed a questionable “hmm?” Before Gojo broke the kiss to agree. His voice was laced with not just desire. He was ravenous for you, feral even. “You’re growing so fucking strong, who wouldn’t want you? You’re our Greek goddess who sculpted herself. Fuck you’re so driven and strong, Y/N it turns me on like nothing else to see you be so jacked like you could just destroy me”

Geto plunged his fingers back into you and you keened at the praise and the feeling of him stretching you out.

“Tight pretty girl, why don’t you give us a little flex, treat us a little. Let us worship you.”

You were too dumb on his fingers to feel anymore shame to do the silly request, and you flexed your arms. Gojo felt up your biceps and kissed and sucked them, while Geto licked circles on your neck and shoulders pumping his big fingers in and out of your dripping sex.

Your head was spinning, the two men began to sandwich you between their muscles, and Gojo started playing with the hem of your shorts.

You were reduced to whines and little pleas.

“Shit you’re so fucking wet, Y/n,” Geto practically growled, and you arched back into him. Your head rested on his chest, which felt so squishy because of his tiddies. He held you down in place with a big arm so you didn’t buck your hips too much…you just had to take him fingering you and driving you wild.

“S’because I think about you guys all the time,” your nails dug into Geto’s arm but he didn’t stop fingering you and rubbing circles around your pert little clit.

“Oh, is that so, love?” Gojo nibbled on your other ear, so close to you that you could smell the delicious abundance of pheromones coming off these two men, making your heart race besides Geto’s fingers and the heat.

“‘M always soaking wet going to the gym and seeing you, cancelled a gym membership I wasn’t using because this is m-my favorite, I get to see my favorite big men,” your hand traced down Gojo’s abs, and he moaned.

“Oh is that so? Do me a favor. Lose the clothes, sweetheart.”

You complied as the men gave you a little bit of space and began to undress themselves as well, showing big strong meaty man thighs that you just wanted to bite and ride. And better yet—when they took off their boxer briefs—big, thick cocks slapped their abs and bobbed up and down, arousal pooled all the way down there. Dripping precum. So much fucking meat. So many pretty veins. You gasped when you saw them and they chuckled.

“You can handle anything, Y/n. So you can handle us, right? Fit us inside you?” Geto stroked his cock slowly, panting with arousal as pleasing you and your hot, tight little pussy got him so riled up. His dark eyes seemed to plead for your agreement. They’ve both sported boners since you worked out so finally taking the pants off felt so good.

“Mm, I want to prep her a bit more Geto, can we do that?” Gojo put a towel down and motioned for you to sit on the higher seat and you obliged. “Such a good, obedient girl.” He put your legs over his wide shoulders and two long fingers made a V and spread your puffy pussy lips to admire your perked up clit and how wet you were. He flattened his tongue and swirled it over your clit ferociously.

“Gojo!!! Ahhh,” you mewled as you bucked into his face. He began to make out with your pussy all sloppily, lapping up your juices, swirling all over, up and down, and inside you. Eating you out like he was famished. “Usually I don’t like to eat my sweet desserts first but—“ your juices were dripping down his chin already and he looked so gorgeous with his messy white hair, “now I need to eat it before dinner, and after dinner, for breakfast, and lunch, forever and ever if it’s you.” His tongue kept fucking you as he rubbed the entire alphabet over your clit, and it was too much for poor you. Your legs began to entrap his head and instead of going up for air, his other arm hooked around them to bring your thighs even closer together and choke him out more.

Geto was nibbling, sucking and twirling your nipples between his fingers. One of your hands dug into Gojo’s hair pulling him down and making the man moan, and another one of your hands dug into Geto’s silky locks to pull him in to kiss you. He growled as you tugged him in. You tasted a little hint of yourself on his mouth from when he tasted his fingers. He brought up an experimental hand to choke you and you bit his bottom lip, licking it after. He smirked, choking you harder and you spasmed under both men’s touches, moaning as Geto kept kissing you and dominating your mouth as you began to feel light headed. They were pumping their cocks, and Geto stood at your level, so you were eye level to his fat cock, a sexy happy trail going from his carved abs to his goods. You took him in your hand and licked a stripe up the precum that was dribbling down his large bottom vein.

“Fuck, just like that sweetheart,” a heavy hand rested on top of your head, and he didn’t move or fuck your face. You licked all the way up to his swollen pink head, which you sucked and licked circles.

You looked into his heavy lidded eyes as he moaned deeply, the hot sound and Gojo’s hastening ministrations on you making you moan around him. And with that vibration, Geto lost control and began to thrust into your mouth, and in response you bobbed your head. Your jaw was going to hurt so bad later from this huge cock but you didn’t care whatsoever, struggling to take even half of his cock yet you were determined. They were right. You could barely even hold the entirety of his or Gojo’s girth with your middle finger and thumb touching. “So—good—fuck,” he hissed.

Gojo was absolutely drunk on your pussy. He knew he could spend hours between your muscular thighs, slurping and lapping at your overstimulated sex. Curling his fingers into the sweet spot he also found. You could feel yourself getting close, so close, and you began to sob into Geto’s cock, legs shaking and holding onto his huge thighs for stability as you twisted his cock and gave him the best blowjob of his life.

They knew you were getting close.

“God you’re so hot,” Geto was breathless, as you would try to keep eye contact with him whenever you weren’t rolling your eyes back. “Cum for us.”

And with that, as Gojo switched his hand and mouth, rubbing circles on your clit quickly with his index and fucking your sensitive walls with his tongue, you came undone, bucking into his face, silently screaming, switching eye contact between both men, making them groan.

“Holy shit, Gojo, that’s so hot,” Geto without warning thrusted deeper than you could handle. You gagged, and with that felt hot seed go down your throat into your belly.

“Such a champ, sweetheart.” He was still pretty hard, and held your chin up to kiss you and taste his release and your mouth. Your pussy and ears were buzzing and you were so distracted you didn’t realize Gojo was lining himself up with your entrance. He rubbed your clit a little bit with his tip, then plunged in, making you gasp and whine at the same time. Nothing could prepare you for how fucking big either of them were, and tears that threatened to fall from sucking Geto off fell from the burning stretch in your walls.

“A-ah, hurts! S’too big,” you cried, and he rubbed your thigh soothingly.

“I know, darling, I know. You can take it though, yeah? Be our little cocksleeve.” You moaned in agreement and bit your lip. Geto kissed your forehead and stroked your hair.

Inch by inch, he went deeper and deeper until he bottomed out. “How are you feeling, Princess?” He asked through clenched teeth.

“Please, I n-need you to fuck me,” you cried, and with your permission he wasted no time, bucking into you wildly. Sounds of skin slapping skin and wet squelching filled the sauna, and his sweat dripped on to you making you more aroused. You realized not all of it was sweat. Some of it was your juices that you squirted onto him. And he loved it.

You grew dizzy as he held one of your thighs up and bent the other one up in a half mating press. He went deeper inside you than any man has gone before and with Geto being so large too…fuck. You were screaming his name and sobbing, as Geto choked you a little again and bit on your neck to mark you up as his.

You desperately clung onto any muscles you could, and you looked and felt drunk on pleasure.

“Been wanting you so bad for so long, both of us did,” Gojo moaned, barely out of breath as overwhelming pleasure clouded your vision.

Geto added, “you’re going to be our strong little pet, built to take us both so perfectly.” You were so wet and dumb that juices dribbled down your ass and created a white ring around Gojo’s cock.

“Wonder whose kids you’ll be having first, Y/n?” The raven-haired man was thinking out loud. It took you a second.

“Wait wha—hahhh!” Gojo was kissing your cervix and bruising your walls, but when he put his palm on your tummy to feel his bulge through your stomach, and thumbed your clit, you saw stars again and clamped down on him.

Gojo was getting close as well as he rammed into you, his balls slapping against your ass, thinking about putting his kids inside you.

He moaned as your whines filled his ears and made him go insane, wanting to absolutely ruin you and fill you over and over again. And with that, you came another time, squeezing his cock as he thrusted deeply into you, and finished inside you, filling you with his hot seed as deep inside you as he could before pulling out.

Some cum oozed out of your winking pussy because you were already so dripping wet before getting fucked.

Geto got up. “My turn!!” He grinned darkly to you. Gojo took his place near your face, and Geto manhandled you to be bent over on your knees, mouth near Gojo’s cock. Your head took residence between his strong thighs. He was still hard. How the hell…

You knew what to do, so dumb on the dick and wanting more inside you, you whimpered and took him in your mouth and hands, giving Gojo puppy eyes. He stroked your hair, biting his pretty lip at the sight. A smack left your ass stinging, and a second blow made you moan around Gojo’s big cock.

But what made you moan even louder was Geto stretching you out all over again and fucking you slowly while rubbing your clit making you twitch around him.

He then held your hips up with his strong arms to be a more exaggerated doggy and fucked you at a bruising pace, hitting your sweet spot he memorized over and over and over.

You whimpered a muffled “Geto” as you had Gojo stuff your mouth and you palmed his balls, making him and Geto groan in unison.

“Mm you like that? Like getting dicked down by two guys?”

“Let’s take a bet. Who’s going to be the first baby daddy, Y/n?”

You were so lost in pleasure you couldn’t even answer.

A slap on the ass made you sob, and you palmed Gojo’s tip. “Ah-sorry what was the question?”

Geto pulled all the way out to slam back into you at the hilt, making you scream.

“It’s ok. I’ll repeat myself. I—said—who—will—be—the—first—dad?” He grunted between deep slamming thrusts, you whimpering in each one.

“I-I don’t know, nghh why don’t you put so many inside me I have both of your babies,” you slurred out, just wanting to be bred by them.

Geto liked that answer. Gojo put himself back into your mouth and thrusted into you. You were in denial this was even happening; it felt like the best dream ever. Being spit roasted by your crushes.

Gojo was the first to finish, down your throat. Geto waited, and not long after he also came inside you, leaving you absolutely creampied with both of their loads thoroughly mixed and dripping out of you.

“You’re so good, sweet Y/n,” “did so good,” they said to you, kissing their favorite muscular lady and wiping you clean. Gojo wiped your juices off of him, Geto wiped himself too, and they helped you up.

“So. You, Gojo, Me, K-barbecue, 2am?” Geto put his hair back up in his signature style.

“Yes.”

“Fucking famished.”

“Same. Let’s get dressed.”

They helped you out of the gym and babied you before and after dinner. You would definitely be sleeping in tomorrow. In Geto’s bed with him and his roomie Gojo on either side of you, you warming Geto’s cock. Both men keeping their sweet little gem safe and sound.

___________________________________________

a/n: I really don’t know how I feel about the entire fic but if I didn’t post it would eat away at me until I died so LMAO 🤣

©️ DEMONBANGER WRITING AND ILLUSTRATION / DO NOT REPOST OR STEAL WORK — ESPECIALLY ON OTHER PLATFORMS /

Toji looking annoyed is my fave 🫶🏻

chaos

platonic! jujutsu kaisen x scarlet witch! baby fushiguro! fem! reader

masterlist

"your daughter is the scarlet witch. a being not born, but forged from chaos.

she's unique from the rest of her versions. it intrigues me to find out what path she will take in this one. will she ask me to mentor her again? will she create another reality? who knows? it's exciting and frightening at the same time."

synopsis:

you were the youngest child of fushiguro, toji.

you were also born with exceptional cursed energy, or so they thought.

before your father took his last breath, he left you in gojo's care.

little did you know that it was going to be one hell of a rollercoaster of chaos and heart attacks for you and your father-figure, gojo satoru.

warning:

major manga/anime spoilers—along with wandavision, mcu wanda maximoff in general; themes of angst, sad and fluff.

this is going to be a crack themed series, consisting of scenarios and headcanons as requested :) do note that the portrayal of the jjk characters might be ooc!

there is no accurate timeline or year gaps so please don't attack me with "why is scarlet bb fushiguro still a baby when gojo got her around the time toji died, and then cue timeskip". this is a oneshot series and a crossover, and all of it is dependent on the request sent at my inbox :D

check requests status and about & masterlist before requesting.

inspiration:

this oneshot series is inspired by @thera-daydreams' the sweet old lady is a witch series, along with the amount of platonic headcanons and scenarios i've read under 'jjk x reader' tags. ya'll better check out thera's series, it is well-written and highly recommended to read and reblog :)

playlist:

kiss later, yeojin/loona

russian roulette, red velvet

baby shark, pinkfong

sports, beach bunny

the feels, twice

the collection:

general headcanon — reader goes missing for a week ; reader goes to jujutsu high and kicks ass ; reader makes people see their fears ; reader tearfully wants a mommy ; reader has trouble making friends ; reader's obsession with the baby shark song ; reader remembers who toji is to her ; reader gets rid of gravity in her sleep ; reader's mental manipulation ; possible evil! reader in the making? ; evil! reader part two ; reader loses her first tooth ; how reader spends christmas ; reader wants to marry ; reader's first boyfriend ; reader's domain expansion ; reader gets exhausted after using chaos magic too much ; reader's first crush ; reader gets attacked by people who wants her powers ; reader's birthday celebration at disneyland ; reader's first heartbreak ; reader gets jealous ; reader on her period ; reader's first cuss word

jjk students — 1st years + sukuna babysit reader ; 1st years loses the reader in public ; 2nd years + yuta babysits reader ; reader accidentally teleports to where yuta is

brother! fushiguro megumi — megumi with a clingy! reader ; a day with megumi ; megumi meets you for the first time ; megumi and gojo sees someone confessing to teenager reader

sister! fushiguro tsumiki — general headcanon for sister! tsumiki

dad! gojo satoru — general headcanon for dad! gojo ; gojo meets reader for the first time ; gojo finds out the truth ; reader gets in trouble by gojo ; gojo takes care of sick! reader ; gojo takes a week off because reader missed him ; reader gets scared of insane/feral!gojo ; gojo nearly loses reader ; reader magics gojo ; gojo raises his voice at reader ; jealous! gojo fights toji ; gojo becomes clingy and whiny when reader gets a boyfriend ; gojo neglects reader ; gojo's nighttime routine with reader ; gojo being too overprotective and controlling

uncle! nanami kento — uncle! nanami headcanons ; nanami meets reader for the first time ; nanami and gojo helps reader overcome her fear

dad! fushiguro toji — dad! toji headcanons ; reader meets toji ; reader prefers toji instead of the others ; toji fights gojo for reader

platonic! ryomen sukuna — sukuna babysits reader ; sukuna babysits reader part two

uncle! geto suguru — uncle! geto suguru headcanon ; geto, jogo & mahito meets reader ; geto takes reader home

mama-figure! iori utahime — reader calls utahime mama ; reader asks utahime and gojo when are they going to kiss

other versions of reader that is either older or not a fushiguro — older and gojo reader ends up in baby fushiguro's universe ; reader meets the older and other version of themselves ; reader travels to a parallel universe ; reader meets the other gojo and scarlet witch who happens to be his younger sister

jjk x tokyorev — reader meets and joins tokyo manji gang ; teenager reader is dating sano manjiro ; reader and the first years save toman from a curse

Antecedent 

tags: AFAB reader (referred to as ‘mama’), established (kinda toxic) relationship, canon divergence: secret family au (post arrest), spoilers for touya backstory and chapters 349 onwards, hurt/comfort, original child character (‘Kaiyo’; he is your shared biological child), no reference to readers quirk, mentions of canon attempted suicide and canon child abuse, themes of generational trauma, family feels, todoroki family centric, villain rehabilitation, dealing with trauma and recovery, second chances

wc: 16k+

You shouldn’t have come. 

There are crowds of press, packed so tightly that getting any closer would be futile, all of them a cacophony of questions and accusations. You’re standing atop a small brick wall encasing a flower bed of hyacinths outside of the hospital, a head above the sea of cameras, watching as a group of heroes — Endeavor and Shouto included — slowly lead Touya towards an armoured van. 

Relief floods through your system for a few precious seconds, overwhelming the hopelessness in your stomach. He was alive. 

One little rumour from a patient in your clinic, an unsure whisper of I heard they’re moving that Dabi kid from the ICU to villain corrections had led you here. It’d been two long, devastating weeks since the final battle. Two weeks with no word from him, two weeks of reading every article you could find about the ‘elusive first son of Endeavor’ and learning nothing. 

The media blackout that came thereafter was the only thing that kept you hoping that he was okay. The Todoroki family, though disastrous and complicated, held some influence in Japan. And though Touya would vehemently try to reject it, they could not allow their surviving first son to be fed to the wolves. 

And wolves they were; yelling obscenities and insults with spitting anger. Legal justice was one thing, but the court of public opinion was another thing in its entirety, a fragile and fickle thing that held the power to sway even government policy. 

Kaiyo stirs in your arms at the noise and you soothe him, rubbing your hand along his back until he quietens, then you tuck away the stray red hair that has fallen loose from beneath his hat. Truthfully you never intended to bring him here, but given recent events it has been hard for him to separate from you, cheeks still slightly pink from his earlier tantrum. 

It’d been damn near impossible to prevent the four year old from learning about the broadcast a few months prior, paired with the sudden less than frequent visits from his father, he knew something was deeply wrong and he didn’t understand it. 

Touya is scanning the crowds lazily, expression impassive to everyone but you. You could see was exhausted, more gaunt than you last remember, but his disinterest only fed into everyone’s fury. 

“Villain!” they’re bellowing at him, fingers pointed and words sharp, “don’t you care about the suffering you’ve caused?” 

He cares, you think, more than anyone could ever understand. 

You cannot look away as Shouto lingers by his brother, the other sidekicks giving them a wide berth. Endeavor is tucked away beside the van speaking with an armed officer, his shoulders hunched forwards in an uncharacteristic manner. He appeared to be ashamed. 

Good, the thought bitter and weighing heavily in your chest. 

Touya shuffles along obediently, wrists out and pressed together against his pelvis. Quirk suppressing cuffs, you assumed. They were bulky, and no doubt uncomfortable. You hold Kaiyo a little closer as you ache, distantly wondering if he’s cold without his quirk. 

After today it was entirely possible you’d never see him again, that your son would grow up without his father.

Nobody knew of your connection to him, something both of you doubled down on after your pregnancy came to light. There would be no way for you to visit or contact him now without suspicion being cast upon your little family. Law enforcement will without a doubt assume you were aware of his intentions, and worst case they would believe you to have played a part in them yourself. 

He couldn’t allow that to happen. And yet, here you were. 

You just needed one last look at him to know he was breathing, living flesh and blood, to know that the only thing you would have to mourn was your relationship. More than anything you needed him to be ok. And he does look different – better, in some ways. The new skin grafts hug his jawbone comfortably, and the rings that once kept him together are gone. 

Being alive meant he still had a chance. 

Touya tilts his chin up, squinting against the flare of the sun, and the corner of his mouth crooks into a smile. It’s the irony, you think, as your own lips twitch. The heavens should have opened by now, rain should be soaking your clothes to your skin, influenced by the utter misery flooding throughout your body. Instead, the day is bright.

As if he can feel it, he turns, and his gaze immediately falls on your figure in the distance. You’re close enough to see the abject fury flit across his features, eyes wide and unblinking as they stare back into your own. 

The hand you have rested against Kaiyo’s back slides up over his hat to cradle his head, his small fingers curled tightly into the fabric of your shirt, drawing Touya’s attention to the boy. 

To his son. 

The anger dissolves like sea foam, it washes away to give space for his grief. This was it, the final goodbye. You couldn’t find it in yourself to hate him for his choices, because it was something he had told you he’d do from the start. 

In hindsight, you can only curse your naivety. 

You’d met Touya a few months after your eighteenth birthday while shadowing one of the senior nurses in the clinic. The place was small, run down and barely funded, but it was valuable work and they were kind enough to give you the extra experience.

He’d been brought in unconscious by a concerned passerby. The skin of his arms has been rough, raised and pale pink, inflamed where they’d been burnt. Barely nineteen at the time, it was nothing compared to what he would do to himself years later. 

“Watch him until he wakes up,” they’d told you, and you did so dutifully until his eyes flew open in alarm. 

Back then his identity as Dabi was makeshift, fresh and unrefined. With the glue still wet between the cracks it was unsurprising that he would slip. Touya. That was how he introduced himself to you on that first day, under the hazy influence of painkillers.

The memory stuck with you throughout your relationship. You’d see it now and then — you’d see Touya plainly behind the veil. Sometimes you said his name as if it was a dare, and he’d hated it so much that he loved you. With you there was no need to exert effort in maintaining his bravado, he could just be. And that was dangerous, or so he’d insisted.

He would disappear for weeks at a time. He always had a myriad of excuses, from expressing concern for your safety to spitting that you were nothing but a good fuck. You could no longer count on one hand the amount of times you’d heard the ‘I’m a villain, you shouldn’t be with me’ speech. 

Touya would leave, and yet you’d still come home to a receipt on the counter, or to your clean sheets unmade. It was laughable, and you loved him. 

The pregnancy was… unexpected. Difficult. If his emotions were a switch on the wall, your growing baby was a finger flicking it up and down incessantly. Mornings full of nausea and nights full of reassurance. You offered him an out, a door that would always be left open, and he refused it. 

Stay and be a bad father. Leave and be a bad father. Those were the only options he thought existed for him. And maybe you should’ve believed him when he told you Kaiyo’s birth wouldn’t change a thing about the path he’d set for himself. 

But you couldn’t accept it. Not as he’d held your boy in his arms, not as the apprehension and fear in his eyes softened into love. Not as he’d laughed and told you, “guess I needed to give one good thing to the world before I die”. 

Sometimes the adoration would become overcast with anguish. There were days he couldn’t even look at Kaiyo because of how much he loved him, reminded only of how little he had been loved by his own family — but he never let Kaiyo see it. 

“Just because he’s too young to understand now doesn’t mean he won’t later”.

The only small mercy is that your son remains asleep, blissfully unaware of what he is losing, and unperturbed by the noise around him. His light, shallow breaths against the skin of your neck are a warm comfort. 

Touya can’t say anything for fear it will draw attention to you both, and you think that alone is punishment enough. 

Shouto stands beside him in silence, surveying the surroundings and eventually following Touya’s line of sight to you. Instinctively you step backwards into the soft soil of the flowerbed, your thoughts offering an apology to the hyacinth flattened beneath your shoe. 

With the realisation that his youngest brother has noticed you, Touya turns and lunges in Shouto’s direction with his teeth bared. It could almost be comical if not for the unpleasant murmurings of the crowd. In the short moment that Shouto is distracted, you jump down from the brick wall and slip away. 

You don’t look back. 

A small part of you had hoped your role in the story had ended, that you now might just move forward as best you can. Instead, you were shadowed by an overwhelming sense of dread everywhere you went. There was little to do besides work and walk, yet you couldn’t help but feel watched. The cashier at your local market, your neighbour, Kaiyo’s teacher, the food vendor on the corner; with just one look you can’t help but to think that they must know, that any day now this false peace will collapse onto you like a tonne of bricks. 

The anxiety keeps you up at night, counting the glowing stars stuck to the bedroom ceiling to pass the hours, tension threading itself into your muscle fibres. Kaiyo was warm where he laid curled at your side, but the loneliness — in all its violent emptiness — made the night colder. Despite it all, you missed Touya, your eyes still searching for him across the futon. 

Remnants of him are still scattered throughout the apartment. Should anyone come looking, there would be plenty of him to find. He’d hated having his picture taken, yet always gave in to you quickly, and you never needed to ask him for anything twice. There were photographs of his lips pressed to your hair, of his smile tucked against your neck, of his arms holding the baby; hand cradled around the crown of his head, his purpled scars a stark contrast to Kaiyo’s soft skin. 

He had treated fatherhood like he was a dying man, a clear red flag that you can only now see with hindsight. He had spoiled the two of you with his time and effort, no matter how uncomfortable it made him, because he knew any day might be his last. Touya was born with inherited wounds that were left to fester. To him, his failure was terminal, and no amount of love would undo that. 

The wood panels are cool beneath the soles of your feet as you pad your way through to the bedroom, bending at your knees to pick up stray toys and socks left throughout the hallway. There’s still an ache in your cheeks, the strain of smiling too long through all the tears and questions from your son that morning before school. You wish you had answers. 

Your shared room looks much emptier with the large futon hung over the balcony to dry. You find a small star in the centre of the room that has fallen from the ceiling. Held between your fingers in the daylight it is dull, a pale yellow, much different to the green glow it emits at night. Touya had bought them for Kaiyo after a series of bad dreams, lifting the boy onto his shoulders and letting him stick them wherever he pleased. 

Another piece of him. As you are slipping the star into your pant pocket, you hear a knock on the front door. You weren’t expecting anyone — rent had been paid, Kaiyo was with his sitter and your neighbours were at work. It sounds again, reverberating throughout the apartment, and the soft hair on your arm lifts in anticipation. 

There is a sense of embarrassment somewhere within you as you creep towards the entryway, keeping your body low and your steps light. You can hear muted, muffled voices through the cheap wood, fingertips carefully lifting the peep hole cover to look through. 

You hold your breath, stunned. There are two women just an arms length from you, both of them beautiful and horrifyingly familiar to you. Rei, Touya’s mother, stands with her head held high despite the nervous fiddling of her hands. Fuyumi, his sister, is clasping the strap of her shoulder bag with a white knuckled grip. 

“Mother, are you sure this is the place?” she asks, her eyes darting anxiously over the surroundings, “maybe Shouto made the wrong assumption”.

Rei is lovely, you think, even with the air of sadness  Her smile is gentle, and her expression softly determined. “The worst outcome to this is that he misunderstood the situation,” she replies, “but if this person is important to Touya then they’re important to me”. 

Fuyumi nods, shifting her weight between each foot. You inhale shakily through your nose, blinking back the dryness in your eye as you continue to watch through the lense. 

“He said… there was a child”. 

Your forehead bumps against the door as you startle, cursing under your breath, lungs tightening as the dread floods your system. The two women freeze alongside you, observing the door cautiously, glancing at one another in silent conversation. 

“If you’re there, we aren’t here to hurt you,” Rei lifts her hand, and rests it against the door in a show of reassurance, “I believe you know my eldest son. We only want to talk”. 

The push and pull of guilt, relief and fear forces the weight of your body to sink forward, drawn to the sincerity in her voice. There is no amount of time or distance that would dilute the loyalty you felt towards Touya. Letting them in would be a betrayal. 

“Please,” Fuyumi’s voice is wet, thickening with tears, “he’s my older brother. He’s refusing to talk about you or— or anything! We just want to—”

Rei turns to soothe her, and you’re reminded of your own parenthood. If something ever happened to Kaiyo you might just scorch the earth in your attempts to find him. It’s hard to swallow the swell in your throat as you watch his sister turn into the touch, seeking that comfort. 

Touya had loved his mother, a difficult thing for him to stomach but true all the same. He’d grieved the attention he never received from her, but you knew he didn’t blame her, and it is that which leads your hand to the door handle. 

Time feels like it’s in suspension. To see them standing so clearly before you without the film of dirt from the glass is still a shock to process. Behind you is a home filled to the brim with evidence of your own criminal involvement, the first photograph they’ll see hung in the hallway is of their grandson.

Kaiyo deserved his chance at having a family. 

“Please come in,” your fingers are trembling where they sit in your pocket, curled around the divots in the star. Please forgive me, you think. 

You step backwards to allow them through, both accepting with a short bow and a quiet thank you. It’s unnerving and tense, their stares lingering along the walls and shelves, the mother and daughter now hand in hand as they take a seat on your couch. 

“Would…” a blunt point of the star sinks into the thickest part of your palm, the sensation acting as your tether, “…can I get you anything to drink?” 

“Some tea would be wonderful,” Rei concedes, her voice full of earnest and so light it’s almost wistful. As you steep the leaves you can’t help but get the feeling she knew you needed more time.

The ceramic cups are old, stained with time and well loved. You fill them with hot water, tendrils of steam billowing warmth across your face, and place them atop the coffee table before kneeling onto the floor. 

Beneath your mug is a clumsily drawn cat, the marker permanently stained into the wood. There are others, too, little marks left by mistake. Faint lines of kanji where the ink had seeped through the paper, hearts and stick figures and stars. Rei reaches her hand out to trace a finger along them, lips pressed thinly in a sad smile. 

“I apologise for our unexpected intrusion,” she tells you, “I’m Himura Rei and this is my daughter, Todoroki Fuyumi".

“Believe it or not I’ve been waiting for someone to find us,” your hands wrap tightly around the hot cup, incognisant of the sting to your skin, “it was beginning to eat away at me a little bit”.

“Then Shouto was right,” Fuyumi mirrors you, keeping her voice soothing and calm as she speaks even as her eyes are tearful. You recall Touya telling you she was a teacher, and you can see why. 

“You did know him,” she says, “it looks like he spent… a lot of time here”.

You hear yourself laugh breathlessly at her tiptoeing of the subject, “he practically lived here until he decided to join the league. After that he stayed away for our safety, I suppose”. 

She nods, seeming to accept your answer, glancing then to her mother in a silent plea for assistance. “Could you tell us what he was like?” there’s a mellow, apologetic tone in Rei’s words, but to whom she was apologising you didn’t know.

“Could you tell us all the things we missed?”

So you sip your drink to smooth the dryness in your throat and it’s scalding against the roof of your tongue, and you tell them everything you know. 

After your first meeting you’d thought about him every day for a week, haunted by the intensity in his eyes and the marks on his skin. You had talked and talked and he had done nothing but listen. While you thought you'd never see him again it wasn’t long at all until he came back to your dingy clinic, this time of his own accord, in need of painkillers and suturing. 

He’d gone straight to you, rudely bypassing the doctors with any qualification in the ward, and shoved some money into the palm of your hand. He was still young, his attempts at carrying himself like a man seemed more like puppetry to you, but still you entertained it and attended to his wounds. 

“Since I’m still not fully trained you’ll need to sign this,” you remember holding out the clipboard to him, your supervisor lingering by the curtains, the impatient tap of her foot echoing in your ears. 

“Touya—” 

Back then his aversion to hearing that name was much greater. Every time it’d passed through your lips was as if you had pressed your thumb on a fresh bruise, and he’d lash out in kind. 

“Don’t call me that here!” 

“Why? Are you running from something?” 

He’d laughed at you with eyes that glittered like he was about to cry, but the tears never came, they never could. “Running implies that someone is looking for me,” his skin pulled uncomfortably taut as he smiled, “there’s no one to run from”.

“He dyed his hair black soon after that,” the mug held between your trembling hands grows cold, your tea mostly untouched and leaving a faint brown ring around the ceramic, “sometimes he would visit me all soaked with rain, and the colour would run down the back of his neck”. 

You pause every so often to offer them a chance to ask questions, but the two women remain quiet, listening raptly to your story. Their genuine trust and willingness to believe you bore a sense of unease, or perhaps guilt that you’d had him to yourself while they’d mourned. 

“Then things eventually progressed to… more,” even with the air of melancholy, you couldn’t help but take refuge in the normalcy of being timid around your partner's family, sheepish as you recount your relationship. 

“Did you love him?” Rei asks, and though not unkind, her question makes you feel unspeakably lonely. 

Loving Touya had felt nothing like a free fall, there was no moment in which you woke up and realised your feelings. It’d been no great feat to love him, no grand prize or climax at the end of a long battle; you saw all the worst parts of him and it didn’t change a thing. Even with all his flaws your feelings only deepened until they hollowed you out. 

Despite it all, you had walked into it knowingly, each step forward towards him a purposeful choice. 

You have only your own hunger to thank. Your eighteen year old self had been fiercely persistent, and however much he denied it, you knew he was drawn to your sympathy. Even though he was never entirely honest you pursued him with the small truths he did offer, motivated by the selfish wish to see him happy. 

“Yes,” in sickness and violence, in struggle and fear; you’d loved him through holidays and birthdays, through time spent apart and nights spent alone, “I love him”. 

“And the little boy, is he your son?”

Kaiyo. An unexpected yet happy accident. Named after forgiveness and the spitting image of his father, a red haired cherub, you both already knew the answer. “You can say it, Ms. Himura,” your smile strained as you run your thumb along the handle of your mug, “he’s our son. Mine and his”. 

Fuyumi exhales shakily, slumping forward like the fight left her body along with it. You can see the moment your confession truly registers, misty eyed and sparing a glance between one another. Turning on your knees, you reach into the shelves of the TV cabinet, grasping the framed photo of your son as an infant. 

Rei takes it from you delicately as you offer it to her with an outstretched hand and traces her fingers across the glass pane, circling the swell of Kaiyo’s pink cheek. It’s a personal favourite of yours — his arms are held above his head in triumph, the lower half slightly blurred from the excited kick of his feet. He’s grinning widely, so much so his eyes are squinted. 

Touya had been the one to take that photo, making ridiculous noises from behind the camera, the ghost of their intermingling laughter still ringing in your ears. 

“His name is Kaiyo and he’ll be turning four soon,” you watch warmly as Fuyumi leans over her mothers shoulder to get a better look, hand clutching at the fabric of her knit sweater, “the pregnancy was unexpected. We didn’t… I told Touya I would raise him myself, but he insisted on taking responsibility”. 

As you recall, the very notion that he wouldn’t stick around had offended him. He loved his son. He’d even cried over the baby scans, dry blood still smeared across black and white where they sit in your bedroom drawer. But you could see how the fear had eaten away at him throughout those nine months, restlessly doting on you and bringing home stolen things for the baby every few days but never being able to touch your growing bump. 

“Then, why did he join the league?” Fuyumi asks, but you were intuitive enough to see the real question between the lines. Why wasn’t any of this enough? Why did he leave this behind, too? 

You’d guessed from the beginning that his relationship with his family was, at best, a strained one. In reality it was worse than you could’ve imagined. The small pieces to his past that he let slip every now and then would always fill you with distress, at a loss for words. 

The reveal of who his father had been all you needed to understand the secrecy, of both his identity and of your relationship. 

“Stain,” you cross your arms over the surface of the coffee table, knees folded beneath it, and resist the urge to hide your face, “he continued to use his quirk so his condition was worsening, and his anger towards Endeavor had been festering for years”.

You ignore their plaintive wince at the mention of the pro, blunt nails curling into your inner wrists as you continue. “Touya felt his death didn’t matter. It didn’t change a thing,” and he had to watch his world move on without acknowledging it, “everything Endeavor did made him susceptible to Stain’s cause”.

Stain’s temporary reign of terror over Japan was the first time he’d ever heard anyone criticise hero society so blatantly. You remember the vengeful kindling in his eyes as he recited the vigilante’s words, your son sound asleep in his arms and none the wiser. 

It was that night, and every night that followed, that the stress had started to gnaw at your chest until you felt your lungs collapse under the weight. Panic gripped you each time he returned home with a new injury, the smell of smoke suffocating and clinging to the futon covers no matter how much you washed them. He carried a feral sense of excitement and restlessness that left you helpless — something had breathed new life into him, and it had not been you. 

Fighting had been pointless, your pleas like water to a ducks back. He loved you, he loved his son, and somehow he had rationalised that burning himself and the world would give rise to a better place.  

“He already died once,” your smile is tight but not as tight as your throat,  “and it did nothing. So this time he’d do it where it couldn’t be hidden, where everyone would have to look right at his self immolation and know their part in causing it”. 

It's then that Rei carefully places the photograph on the table as she lowers herself onto her knees, the frame remaining upright with the support of its stand. With her hands resting one atop the other, she leans forward into a full bow in front of you. 

You’re stunned with arms suspended in the air as you hesitate to reach for her, a swell of tears lining your eyes at her softly spoken apology. Your son watches over the exchange, his presence poignant even through an image. 

“Ms. Himura, please lift your head,” you shift towards her, close enough to thread your fingers over her own, feeling the peaks of her knuckles against your palm. 

“I failed him as his mother,” she says, overturning her hand to hold yours and squeezing, “it was those failures that led to your own suffering. I’m sorry”. 

In your peripheral you see Fuyumi as she moves to mirror her mother, sitting close beside you, fingers ghosting a chill along your forearm where she comes to entangle with the two of you. 

“Please don’t take responsibility for my pain. Besides, it wasn’t always terrible,” you stare at the knot of limbs, comforted by the gentle warmth of their touch, “I don’t think… I’ve ever met anyone who loves as much as your son does”. 

Rei’s eyes fall shut, a faint pinch between her brows, sorrowful as she replies: “I know”.  

Her expression is so full of regret it’s almost contagious, drawing you in and reminding you of your own mistakes. There’d been so many opportunities that you could’ve fought him, could’ve said something, but didn’t for fear of pushing him further away. 

“How did you find me?” 

Your voice cuts through the plaintive silence and you shrink under their gaze as their eyes lift. Fuyumi speaks in place of her mother, her thumb rubbing back and forth over your wrist. 

“Shouto saw you as Touya was being transferred, and in all honesty he didn’t think anything of it until Touya attacked him to keep the attention on himself,” she explains with an amused lilt, “he appeared to be very protective of you”.

Idiot, you think fondly. 

“I assure you he only told my mother,” Fuyumi squeezes your forearm once again as if to comfort you, “he was concerned and wasn’t sure if he just misunderstood. But we wanted to look for you to make sure”. 

“Then, the authorities aren’t aware?” 

“No,” Rei murmurs. 

You’re surprised by just how much you were being upheld by stress, shoulders sagging forward in relief, sinking your teeth into the soft inside of your cheek to withhold a whimper. 

“Thank you,” you say hoarsely, and you repeat it again and again until the two women have swaddled you in their arms, surrounded by the gentle scent of lavender and detergent. 

“You’re family to Touya, therefore you’re family to us,” Fuyumi reassures you, “you don’t have to do this alone anymore if you don’t want to”. 

Family. The prospect almost seemed too good to be true, an enticing offer laid out only to trap you at the end. You couldn’t risk Kaiyo’s safety or wellbeing, but their sincerity is so palpable it’s stifling. 

“How is he?” you ask instead, “is he safe?” 

“This knowledge isn’t available to the public, but he has been moved into a private villain corrections centre,” Rei looks at Kaiyo’s picture as she speaks, and you wonder if she sees Touya looking back.

“He will be undergoing rehabilitation with the hopes of one day joining us for a period of probation,” she continues, turning to you with a soft smile, “rest assured we have no intention of removing his autonomy. Touya consciously chose to carry out his actions and he should take responsibility for it…”

Her voice breaks, “… but we had our own part to play in his creation, and believe he deserves a second chance”. 

It’d sound like a perfect dream if you did not know Touya as intimately as you do. You’re unable to repress the grimace that crosses your expression. 

“He won’t be happy about that,” your eyes fall closed momentarily as you exhale, “he won’t see it your way. You already took his autonomy by removing his choice to die, that’s what he’ll think”. 

“You really do understand him, don’t you?” Fuyumi laughs mournfully, “he’s refusing to cooperate. He was relatively fine in police custody but since the transfer he’s become more hostile”.

The room grows a little smaller with every word. “Do you think it’s because I was there?” 

“Shouto asked twice who you were and Touya attacked him both times. It’s a big part of why he came to me about it, and why we knew we had to find you,” Rei says. 

It would make sense. Touya always smothered his anxiety with anger, a response that allowed him some control or imitation of power, and power meant safety. You knew he found common ground with his youngest brother, that being the reason he ultimately lost to him, but that didn’t mean he trusted Shouto. The thought of him restlessly wondering if you and Kaiyo were in danger causes your chest to tighten. 

“Maybe if you’re able to tell him we’re okay, he’ll start responding to treatment?” 

“Maybe,” Rei nods and then the apartment is veiled in heavy silence. It wasn’t unlike sitting at his wake. You wished he could bear witness to how much love you all felt for him. 

Suddenly, a muted beeping sounds from the thin, mint coloured watch clasped around Rei’s wrist. She sighs and pressed her lips into a thin, displeased line. “I’m sorry but we can’t stay longer. They still get a little nervous if I’m out too long,” she says. 

Right. She too had spent time locked away in a hospital. It must be difficult, you think, to have a mistake follow you wherever you went. A perfect recovery did not mean other people would forgive, or forget. 

Maybe one day, Touya would see that he and his mother are more similar than he realises. 

“That’s fine, Ms. Himura,” you bow forward towards her, and then again while addressing Fuyumi, “I’m grateful to you both for finding us”. 

“And we’re grateful you gave us a chance,” Fuyumi lifts her arms in an aborted motion as if to hug you, but decides against it, “we’d like to leave you with our contact information. If there’s anything you need or… if you’d like Kaiyo to visit, please don’t hesitate to call”. 

Their touch lingers long after they leave. The evening moves on, sun dipping below the seam of the horizon as it always does as if nothing had changed, an unintended reminder of how minuscule your problems really were. Kaiyo is returned home by his sitter, excitedly babbling about his day, rushing throughout the apartment with bare feet padding over the spot where his grandmother had been seated only hours before. 

You’re reminded of how intuitive he is when he curls himself around your thigh, asking you if you’re okay, if you were feeling sick or sad. There’s a guilt there that can only come with parenthood, your depression smothered like a wet blanket as you pull forward a smiling mask to wear, hoping it will placate his worry. 

“I’m okay baby,” you tell him with fingers combing through unkempt red hair, his eyes wide and bright and distinctly your own, “I’m just a little tired”.  

There is an anger that accompanies the insurmountable love you feel when you look at your son. It is difficult to accept his abandonment, to know you will have to be the one imparting that pain into him. So gentle, excitable and considerate of those around him, qualities taught to him by his supposedly villainous parents.

Despite his mistakes and doubts, Touya tried to be a good father, he’d wanted to be one. You suspected a lot of it came from a place of wishfulness, parenting his child in a way he’d wanted for himself, as painful as it might’ve been to realise just how little he’d mattered to his own. And you can see it now — Touya’s inherited wounds are steadily present on Kaiyo, a passing of the torch, and all you can do is try to stop the bleeding.

If you truly thought about it, you could say your whole relationship had carried a disquieting dark shadow beneath its skin, something of a spreading blood wheel. You overlooked it anytime he was callous and unruly, you’d cry and ache but it pleased you to know he still cared enough about himself to be angry. 

Soon after joining the league he’d gradually plateaued, urges satisfied, and you should’ve noticed. 

“Mama, look,” Kaiyo appears and lifts a thin sheet towards you, paper wrinkling under his chubby fingers, “I drawed dad!”

“Drew,” you warmly correct, cradling his cheeks as you duck to press a kiss to his forehead. The drawing is that of three stick figures, each one distinct with features. Touya’s figure has his black spiked hair, and across the lower half of its face is a purple shadow. His scars, you assume. 

It was all perfectly normal to Kaiyo; the sutures and rings, the burns, the ever present smell of smoke. From the moment he could open his eyes, they would follow his father with love and excitement. The admiration would sometimes unsettle Touya, too familiar, too much like looking into a reflection. 

“It’s brilliant, baby,” you tell him, gentle as you take it from his grasp, “shall we put it on the pinboard along with the others?”

He huffs, incensed by your request, “but I want to show my friends!”

Therein lies the dilemma. You wonder how often this problem will crop up in the years to come, how quickly you might run out of acceptable excuses as he becomes old enough to understand. Dabi was too easily recognised, even in your son's amateur rendition of him. 

“I really love this one though Kai, it has all of us,” you twist your lips into a cartoonish pout, pulling the sweet sound of a laugh from him, “please can I keep it?”

His childish glare withers as he fights a smile, the restrained happiness plain on his face and entirely contagious. “Ok mama, I guess,” he relents, innocent and forgiving, head tilted and cheeks pink under your praise. In moments like this, you can truly understand a parent's wish to freeze time. 

You recall Touya’s claim of putting good into the world before his death. You too could hardly believe that you’d raised such an unequivocally good little boy. But as you watch your son appraise his art with an excited wiggle, you’re reminded that children are not a tool for redemption. 

“I love you,” I promise I’ll be better for you, “and dad loves you too. How about we draw him another picture? I’ll do one aswell". 

“Okay!” he takes your hand and begins to pull you along the hallway towards his room, your back bent uncomfortably to lessen his reach. Halfway to his destination, Kaiyo pauses, pulling anxiously at the hem of his metallica shirt. 

“When… When is dad coming back from work?” 

That’s right. Work in Okinawa, you’d told him. A terribly flimsy excuse given in a moment of panic. At the time you just wanted him to have a reason to hold onto, to reassure himself with, but it was slowly coming back to bite you. 

“He still has a lot to do baby,” an understatement if you’d ever heard one, “it’ll be a little while. But we can be patient, can’t we?”

His lips purse into a pout, eyes shimmering with unshed tears as he bravely nods, and the thought of Rei’s phone number waiting in your contacts lingers in the forefront of your mind. 

Truthfully it haunts you throughout the rest of your week, stomach lined thickly with guilt. You eat, you work, you walk Kaiyo to school with eyes on every corner. You sleep in Touya’s most recently worn hoodie and pretend it’s his skin, his hands, too attached to his scent to wash it. 

Kaiyo continues to draw, to write and create. He brings graded homework back from school to keep in one of your old folders along with his other keepsakes; just in case Touya comes back, just so he can show him. 

You were looking over some of the old home made cards the night you finally called Rei, reliving another time and wondering if it ever really had been better, or if it’d just been a figment of your imagination. 

It can be difficult to know when a memory has been altered by nostalgia. 

“What’s this?” Touya had said as Kaiyo handed him a Father’s Day card, the inside lined with confetti and star sequins that toppled into his lap when opened. 

“I— I made it for you,” Kaiyo had explained nervously with eyes wide, hands flexing at his sides, “see… that’s you and— and me!” 

“Those potato shaped things are us?” Kaiyo had visibly deflated even with Touya’s playful tone, “this is pretty fuckin’ cool if you ask me”. 

“Freakin’,” you’d gently chided, lacking any heat for it to sound truly scolding at the time, too pleased by Kaiyo’s excited dancing. You recall the relaxed smirk on Touya’s lips and how he’d pressed a kiss to your shoulder, a rare moment of him being truly at ease and present. 

“And the heart, why s’it blue and not red?” 

“Because of your fire, dad!” Kaiyo grinned as he lifted his arms, mimicking the pose of a hero, “I hope I have blue flames, just like you”. 

Fragile. You'd watched on as Touya’s expression became strained, closing the card and setting it on the table, “I guess we better keep it somewhere safe since you worked so hard on it”. 

Into the folder it went. 

You decide to make the leap the following morning, allowing Kaiyo to sleep a little longer while you sift through your shared wardrobe for a suitable outfit. Work had happily allowed you a day off — even though they were chronically short staffed, you didn’t often call in sick so they were glad to give it to you. 

Usually Kaiyo would be dropped off with his sitter, an older woman known in the neighbourhood for fostering children. She’d been around for a long time, had seen and worked with many a criminal, and she understood young people more than you could comprehend. You trusted her with your son, trusted that even if he unknowingly slipped up she wouldn’t say a thing. 

But today that wasn’t necessary. You feel the fabric of the small knitted sweater between your fingers, frowning at the aggravating itch. He wouldn’t wear this, too scratchy, but it was also the closest to nice clothing he had. 

It isn’t like you’re living in poverty, but one mistake and it could very well be a truth for you. Clothes were fine as long as they fit — Kaiyo loved the little band tees his father would bring him more than anything, he didn’t care much for formal wear. 

The unbidden image of Touya’s displeased scowl flashing through your thoughts is enough for you to put the sweater back. Forcing Kaiyo to conform for the sake of his wealthier relatives, indicating that your own reality was something lesser, is something you wouldn’t do. Something Touya would hate you for. 

A small lump curled up beneath the futon covers begins to move. Kaiyo stirs, almost as if he can feel your turmoil, sleep lined eyes searching for you. 

“Ma?” 

“Mornin’, handsome,” a smile pulls naturally at your lips and warmth unfurls in your chest when he reaches for you. Half of his hair is pressed flat to the side of his head where he’d laid. 

He blinks slowly from your lap, his fathers nose wrinkling as he surveys the clothes you’d been mulling over. It’s an unspoken question. 

“I have a surprise for you so I wanted to find something nice for you to wear,” you tell him, hand rubbing along the length of his back. He perks up noticeably, foot kicking out against the sweater you’d just been holding. 

“Don’t like that one,” he says. You laugh, eyes closing for a moment to silently send thanks to Touya, even if he had just been a fleeting piece of your imagination. 

“Thought so,” you murmur, leaning forward to move it aside, “pick something for yourself, then. Make sure it’s something you’ll feel good in, because we’re going to meet some new people today”. 

“Who?” he asks, mouth wet and shaped into an ‘o’ as he fists his hands into another one of his dark coloured t-shirts. 

“You know how a lot of your friends have more than just a mother and father?”

He mumbles a dejected ‘yes’. 

“Well, I know you’ve been missing dad so I thought we might be able to connect with him in a different way,” you explain, helping him lift his pyjama shirt over his head and refraining from pinching his belly. 

“What would you say if I told you… I was going to take you to see your grandma right now?” 

“Grandma?!” he squeaks from behind the clean shirt you loop over his head, frowning then as you help him push his arms through the sleeves, releasing a small noise of complaint. 

“That’s right, your dad's mother,” — your smile dims slightly while he insists on dressing himself, reminded of how quickly the time has passed, how much he was growing — “I guess he didn’t talk about his family a lot did he?”

Kaiyo shakes his head excitedly, bouncing on his toes as he struggles to tug his pants over his clean underwear. He relents and allows you to do up the fiddly top button of his trousers. 

“That’s not all…” 

“More?!”

“You have an auntie and two uncles,” you tell him, and his hands fly to cover his mouth as he begins to dance with excitement. His joy is contagious, you feel it fill you and spill over as you pull him back into your lap, holding him tightly. 

Rei and the siblings, that had been the deal. No Endeavor. Touya may forgive the former, but never the latter. You wouldn’t do that to him.

It isn’t strenuous getting him out the door, but it is taxing to get him to the station, hair once again tucked under a knitted beanie despite the day's warmth. He jumps over the cracks in the pavement, follows the pattern with his feet, stops to greet every stray he sees. 

And you let him. Because his happiness is your own, and you dread to imagine him without it. Maybe it was selfish for you to cover his ears to the cruelty around him. He knew of fear, pain and crime, he knew that people sometimes did bad things to others. But it had never been personal to him, not yet. 

Perhaps the biggest question as a parent was just that — at what point do you expose your children to what may hurt them? 

You had told Rei the cover story ahead of time, embarrassed by your own lies, but she’d been understanding. Gentle. Somehow it only left you more ashamed. 

You wanted to preserve the innocent lense in which he viewed the world, wanted to encase the image he held of his father in amber. Because when you’re a child, the power of those traumas stay with you, chemically alter you; they become the epicentre of your nightmares, they shape your convictions and morals, they fuel your will. Touya knew that more than anyone. 

You observe Kaiyo while he watches the surroundings change, clutching the backrest of his seat as he looks out the train window, propped up on his knees and ignorant of the glare from the elderly woman beside him. Folded on her lap is the morning newspaper, a grainy black and white photo of flames and the words ‘Where is Endeavor’s Villainous Son?’ printed across the front. 

You adjust the hat, his eyes fixed on the moving landscape. He’d never been this far out of the Kanagawa prefecture, Touya’s unease with regards to your safety always taking precedence over the freedom to explore, so you let him press his nose to the glass and laugh as his voice begins to vibrate with the train. 

“Do you remember the names I told you?”

“Yumi!”

“Fuyumi,” you emphasise, tucking the tag by his neck back into the confines of his shirt, “who else?”

He holds out his fist, fingers unfurling one by one as he counts, seeking your praises as he goes. “Fuyumi… Shouto… Natsu…o… Natsuo!”

The two hour journey passes in what feels like a minute. With one blink the train arrives in Shizuoka, slow as it pulls up to the second platform, the anticipation knotting thickly like yarn in your gut. Kaiyo, as perceptive as he can be, is bubbling with too much enthusiasm to notice your inner turmoil. 

You hold him on your hip, arms pressing him close into your chest as the sliding doors part, and step into the throngs of people waiting to board the train. As if you’d been in a soundproof bubble the noise of the city amplifies, a cacophony of voices and cries and whistles echoing uncomfortably in your ears. There are suits everywhere, hats tipped over eyes, too many unknowns in such a crowded space. 

The relief of stepping out onto the clear street almost buckles you. Kaiyo is squirming in complaint, wanting to be put back on the pavement but you hike him up a little higher. You couldn’t let him down, couldn’t let him out of reach, couldn’t let anyone take him. 

“Sorry baby, you can walk soon. I just need to find the car first—”

You’re interrupted then by a low, nasal voice, startling you to pivot on your feet. Behind you stands a large figure, bowler hat held politely to his chest as he bows forward. Kaiyo shrinks into the crook of your neck at the sight of a stranger, sensing your unease. The man repeats your name, the well groomed moustache sitting on his top lip moving as he speaks, curled into spirals at either end. He’s formally dressed, wearing a three piece suit and a large black topcoat. 

“That is you, correct?”

Grappling at your thoughts, you recall the riddle that you had given to Rei after her suggestion of having you picked up. She hadn’t wanted you to make your own way there, adamant that the family staff would drive the two of you to her home, and you gave in only at the promise of a safeword.

You inhale to steady yourself. “What is it that, given one, you’ll have either two or none?”

His eyes soften considerably but it does nothing to soothe the tension, only when he gives you the answer do you let yourself relax. “A choice,” he says, “my apologies. I should have been more considerate of your circumstances”. 

Circumstances. What a kind understatement. 

“My name is Ono Hiroki, I’m under the service of Ms. Himura and will be your driver,” he continues with a well meaning tilt to his head as he leans towards Kaiyo in greeting, “and what is the young master's name?”

You feel your son shift beneath your chin, presumably to look up at Hiroki, but he remains stubbornly quiet. “This is Kaiyo,” the grip he has on your shirt lessens at the sound of your voice, “we appreciate you coming out here to meet us but… please don’t refer to him with that title”. 

Touya would turn his nose up if he heard. You can almost imagine the shiver that may have run down his back just now, wherever he may be, and the thought forces you to hide a smile into Kaiyo’s knitted hat. 

“Of course,” Hiroki assents, and he begins to lead you towards the car. You cringe at how obviously it stands out amongst the more common models, clearly something owned by someone with great wealth and status. Even with having chosen your best outfit, the clothes on your back suddenly felt like straw, cheap and unfit for the occasion. 

The drive is smooth, though your sense of time becomes warped — had someone asked you how long it took to arrive, you wouldn’t have an answer for them. Kaiyo, just as he had done on the train, pressed his nose and fingers to the window; leaving behind murky smudges against the glass. 

As the car pulls to the curb you’re left feeling alienated by the neighbourhood. Worse, Hiroki steps out and speeds around to your door, opening it for you with a reflexive bow. 

It feels… uncomfortable. 

The property itself is walled off from the street and the building is large, though you’re sure that’s only in comparison to your own homes. You’re drawn in by the greenery that surrounds it, though the trees were likely put there for the sake of privacy the garden was clearly a labour of love. 

It appears to be a single story house, the roofs tiled dark brown with broad waves and an exterior hallway that frames around each room. You could picture Rei tending to her garden while her children sat on the veranda in the summer months. 

It was beautiful. 

Hiroki slowly leads you up the path, the gravel between each step crunching beneath your shoes. The pace can be attributed to Kaiyo’s adamance in standing on each individual stone, which the man kindly indulges. 

The entrance is made up of a large sliding door with plaster slitted windows. Hiroki pushes it across and moves aside to allow you into the house. You murmur in wonderment at the width of the genkan, the wall above the shoe cupboard  lined with traditional calligraphy. 

“Yes— it’s fine! I’ll bring them through…”

A sweet, familiar voice echoes throughout the entryway. Kaiyo tucks himself against the back of your knees as Fuyumi rounds the corner, socked feet slipping slightly on the wooden flooring in her excitement. 

Her lips part to greet you, the words caught in her throat as her gaze is drawn to the movement behind your legs. Typically Kaiyo could be quite rambunctious around others, loud and eager to befriend others. Here you can feel his anxiety, how small he must feel in this large, unfamiliar place. 

Fuyumi, too, is at a loss for words. A little pale, teary eyed as she blinks, visibly composing herself in front of you both.  “It’s good to see you again, Fuyumi,” you say as the silence stretches on, taking pity on her. 

Her demeanour lightens, and she appears grateful. Somehow her awkward loss of words and your son's hesitance lent you courage even if you, too, did not have your footing. 

“How about we take off our shoes and make proper introductions?” the question ends with a soft hum, a gentle verbal push, reaching back to pluck the hat from Kaiyo’s head. 

His hair is mussed, cowlicks pointed in all directions after being pressed beneath the yarn. You run your hand through it, wetting the pads of your fingers to flatten some of the more unruly curls down until they’re neat. The red is brighter in the sunlit genkan, and Fuyumi does well to conceal her sharp inhale. 

Kaiyo steps forward, nervously wringing out the material of his t-shirt, and Fuyumi lowers herself to his height as if approaching a cornered animal. Tender with her motions, she reaches out to still his anxious tic, ducking her head to smile where he can see it. A teacher, you remember. 

“It’s so wonderful to meet you Kaiyo. I’m your aunt Fuyumi,” she says. He turns over his wrist and takes three of her fingers into his fist, head nodding forward in what you know to be a bow. 

“Nice to meet you, aunt Fuyumi,” he replies. 

“Don’t worry about formalities, sweetheart,” she uses her free hand to straighten out the hem of the shirt, her eyes flickering over the logo with some recognition, “you can call me ‘Yumi. You are my nephew, after all”. 

Kaiyo straightens his back, overjoyed by the privilege, and looks up to share the feeling with you. If you could read his thoughts you’d guess it was something along the lines of told you her name was ‘Yumi, mama. 

“Natsuo isn’t here yet as he stayed overnight at his girlfriend's dorm,” Fuyumi continues as she rises to her feet, still keeping a firm hold of Kaiyo’s hand, “but mother and Shouto are in the tatami room. She likes having all the doors open on a day like this while we sit together, would you like to meet them?”

“Yes!”. In his excitement he pushes up onto the tip of his toes, shedding his timid attitude and grinning so wide his cheeks begin to pinken. It’s infectious, Fuyumi brightening considerably at his sudden comfort in her presence, and she begins to guide you both through the house. 

Soft spoken murmurings become louder as you approach the open sliding door into what you presume is the tatami room. Kaiyo pauses a few steps before, hidden behind the panel, waiting until you’re close enough for him to wrap an arm around your thigh. 

“You’re ok, baby,” you whisper warmly, “let’s go in together”. 

You enter the room with an awkward gait, slowed by the weight of your son against your leg, the matts firm beneath your feet. Immediately you are embraced by the scent of earth and autumn bellflower. Rei is seated on a pale green cushion across from Shouto, cross legged and holding a steaming cup of tea with both hands, on the table between them is a vase blooming purples and blues. You garner their attention, self-consciousness twisting uncomfortably in your chest as they appraise you and Kaiyo, a part of you always ready to jump to his defences. 

But the two, despite the cool air and unreadable expressions, only seem to thaw as their eyes fall to your son. 

The light knock of Shouto’s mug levelling atop the table surface brings you above water. “Greet your grandmother properly, sweetheart,” you step further into the space and lower to your knees, Kaiyo mirroring your actions with caution, facing Rei with his hands resting politely on his knees. 

You bow forward, thank you for having us Ms. Himura, and watch with fond exasperation as Kaiyo leans until his forehead is touching the tatami in your peripheral. “It’s nice to meet you, grandmother. It’s— it’s nice to meet you, uncle Shouto,” he recites, “my name is Kaiyo!”

You smile at the force behind the words, as if he’d practised them in his mind repeatedly before arriving. Rei appears to come to the same conclusion, returning the words and beckoning him to sit beside her, and Fuyumi ushers you to take a seat by Shouto.

In closing the distance Rei appears mystified, eyeline wet as she blinks back the tears, hands lifting to cradle your son's face in her palms. Kaiyo tenses for a moment on contact, shoulders relaxing as her thumbs graze over the swell of his cheeks. You wonder who she was truly seeing as she looked at Kaiyo, a little boy almost identical to her own. “My hands are a little cold, aren’t they?” her voice is soft, weak. There’s an intonation of grief, of regret, and an apology in her eyes. 

And your son, ever loving and perceptive, covers them with his own as if to tell her it doesn’t bother him in the slightest. Then he shifts closer on his knees until he’s tucked against her chest, her chilled touch running along the length of his back as she holds him. At your side you feel Shouto exhale a short, hot breath of emotion. 

“Tea?”

You look to see Fuyumi has set out more cups, now with a pale cream teapot in her grip, unphased by the temperature as tendrils of steam wisp and dance from the spout. Along the curve of her jaw is a single tear, and she tilts to wipe it on her shoulder with a weak sniffle. You feel it too, pulling the sleeves of your shirt over your wrists to conceal the trembling, lifting your chin to keep the emotions behind your eyelids.

“That’d be great,” you nod, accepting the cup that Shouto slides towards you, “thank you”. 

You’re tempted to thank Fuyumi again as you bring the ceramic to your lips, a slight sting to the skin of your palms and your lower lip, breathing in the potent scent of green tea. This family must enjoy it a little stronger, steeping the leaves for longer, the bitterness heavy on your tongue. There is at least some respite in the distraction it provides — you could not talk if your mouth was busy. 

Kaiyo ignores the silences, leaving his grandmother's lap to squeeze himself next to Shouto. You try not to laugh, the youngest at a loss for what to do as your son looks up at him in wonderment and admiration, though it is hard to restrain yourself at the barrage of questions Kaiyo targets him with. 

“Are you really going to be a pro hero, uncle Shouto?”

“I am,” he replies solemnly, “I’ll be a hero that my family can rely on. Do you want to be a hero?”

“Hell no!” 

“Kaiyo—”

“I’m going to go to space,” he barrels on without a care, too wrapped up in his own passion to recognise the informality, but with Rei’s quiet laugh you realise there was no need to worry. As Kaiyo stumbles over his words about asteroids and comets, about how the sunset on mars is blue and isn’t that so cool, Shouto seems to relax even further. 

“He doesn’t think he’s good at talking to children,” Fuyumi whispers at your side, “believe me, Kaiyo is doing him a favour”. 

Even as the time passes Shouto’s tea remains steaming in his left hand while yours begins to cool, and Rei observes their back and forth with an autumn bellflower petal between her fingers, gently as she handles it like it were something precious. There’s no tension, any growing pains soothed as Kaiyo soaks up the attention, the beating heart of the room. 

“I’m gonna go to space an’ clean up all the junk,” he announces. A goal that you’d heard many a time, manifested in his fathers arms one evening as they’d sat together watching a pre-quirk era documentary about space travel. 

“Pro heroes came along and suddenly we forgot everything that used to be important to us,” Touya muttered, “going to space is—”

“—a hero's job in its own right,” Shouto says. 

You do well not to drop your drink as Kaiyo launches himself into Shouto’s lap, one of his arms outstretched to not spill his own while the other steadies the boy to his chest. Gleeful, childish laughter wells throughout the room, paired with the balmy sun and the whistle of a Japanese tit flitting through the gardens. 

“Dad told me that too,” you feel as the mother, the sister and the brother all hold their breath at the mention of Touya, the one topic they weren’t sure if they could even touch upon, “do you really think so, uncle Shouto?” 

“I do…” he shifts, hugging Kaiyo only after glancing at you for permission, “...and you don’t need to prefix my name with ‘uncle’ every time. You can be casual”. 

“Prefix?” 

“A word that comes before another,” you interject gently, “he means you can just call him Shouto, baby”. 

In that instance your back straightens at the sound of another voice ringing throughout the house, low and distant. “I’m home,” they shout with familiarity, “sorry I’m late!”.

Fuyumi jumps to her feet, leaving to meet the new arrival, and Kaiyo watches her go with a chubby fist curled into Shouto’s sweater. He pats his hand awkwardly to Kaiyo’s thigh in reassurance, “don’t worry, it’s just Natsuo. He’s my other older brother”. 

Kaiyo lessens his grip, tentative as he watches the open doorway, and you can’t help but to reflexively reach out to pinch his cheek. “It’ll be fine,” you murmur. 

Your first impression of Natsuo is that he’s much bigger than his siblings. He must’ve inherited his build from his father and his demeanour in spite of him, because even with the chill that he brings, his grin is refreshing. The type of person that sets you at ease and wordlessly invites you in, that actively wants you to feel welcomed. 

“Wow, you’re really here. You’re really…” Natsuo's throat bobs as he swallows his next words, silenced by Fuyumi’s encouraging touch. Rather, he hastily greets his mother with a kiss to the cheek, and then he settles down at the table facing Kaiyo. 

A litany of emotions flicker through his face, like he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to feel. Even so, his smile doesn’t waver as he introduces himself to you, nervously rubbing his neck as he bows. 

“And you must be Kaiyo. I’m Natsuo, I guess that makes me your uncle,” he inhales deeply, chest expanding and falling, “you… you really do look like your dad”. 

He sounds mournful. Kaiyo senses the change in atmosphere, though he doesn’t understand it, and the anxiety settles into his restless fingers as they pick a thread loose from Shouto’s sweater. 

Fuyumi lightly swats at him: “Natsuo, you’re freaking them out!” 

He gives a wounded complaint, dramatic only in a way you can find with siblings as he clutches at his bicep, and Kaiyo laughs. Like it was called upon, the sun moves from behind a cloud and brightens the room. 

“Sorry, buddy. I didn’t mean to be awkward, I was just surprised,” he says. 

Kaiyo slides down from Shouto’s lap, the youngest briefly forlorn at the loss before schooling his expression once more. “It’s ok, mama said I look like dad too. That’s why I’m so handsome,” he grins triumphantly. 

Your chest knots tightly at the spotlight it shines on your relationship with Touya, thoughts running amok with assumptions of what they must think of you, whether they approve of how you have raised Kaiyo. But despite your inner conflict the family don’t flinch, in fact — they smile with him. 

“Touya was indeed a beautiful little boy,” Rei briefly looks at the purple petal still held between her fingers, “I have a lot of pictures here. Would you like to see?” 

Kaiyo scrambles, almost knocking the table as he stands, “yes please, grandmother!”

There’s an air of nostalgia as she leans down to take his smaller hand into her own, in the way he looks up with love, height falling just short of her hip. The last time she had seen her children this size had been before she was sent away. You can’t even begin to comprehend such a loss.

“Just 'grandma' is fine,” she assures, and Kaiyo bounces with each step as they leave to find the photographs. 

You realise, then, that you are left alone with the siblings. Fuyumi pours more tea, the sound of running water loud in your ears, Natsuo’s words barely audible to you. 

“I wanted to thank you,” he says, cup in hand with his thumb anxiously tapping the rim, “for being there for Touya when we couldn’t be. For bringing Kaiyo here even when you have every right to distrust us”. 

The words pick away at the composure you’d maintained throughout the morning, their gratitude, while completely genuine, feels undeserved. In the grand scheme of things your relationship to Touya had not changed much at all, perhaps he’d staved off his mission for a while to play house with you, but the outcome was the same. 

“It isn’t you that I distrust,” the ‘Endeavor’ goes unspoken, “I wanted Kaiyo to keep his connection to his father. And you don’t need to thank me, I didn’t…”

Didn’t help him. Didn’t save him. Didn’t stop him. You only loved him. You laid with him in darkness and thought if you held him tight enough that something might crack, that the light might get in. 

“What I did wasn’t enough,” you tell them, the words broken with your wet exhale, “it was your actions, your dedication to understanding him. It’s… it’s you I should thank, Shouto”.

“Still,” Fuyumi is tender as she speaks, her hand resting between your shoulder blades, “knowing that all that time he wasn’t alone, knowing that he had you, it means a great deal to us all”. 

Even if he hadn’t been alone for those few years, there was still a rotten past from before he met you that he wouldn’t touch. Touya, stone faced and eyes narrowed, watching you from beneath the sheets of his hospital bed as if he were a wounded animal. Your slow, telegraphed actions, promising respite. That’s why despite wanting to stay away from you, he couldn’t — because you saw who he was, and you still loved him. The burning flesh, the distended skin, the smoke and the blood. You saw the bodies on the news, you saw the flames across the city, and you still loved him. 

Maybe that was the only thing you got right; because there isn’t much else worse than someone loving the potential of who you could be, or loving someone you’re not. In the end, you think, we all want to be seen first and loved second. 

“I do think he’s worried about you,” Shouto interjects plainly, “ he’s not directly asking about your wellbeing because he doesn’t want to reveal your identity, but the staff say he’s restless”. 

“You can be quite perceptive, Shouto,” Fuyumi says. 

“A friend of mine has told me that before,” there’s a flicker of a smile pulling at his lips and it warms his expression. If you needed to attach a word to it you’d pick fond. 

“Though he also said I make all the wrong assumptions about what I’m seeing,” he exhales through his nose in what you think might be a laugh, “that’s why I went to my mother first. This seemed… too important to be wrong about”.

“I’m truly grateful for your discretion,” you wipe a tear along the heel of your hand, ignoring the sting in your sinuses, “and for your acceptance of us”.

“You’re our family now,” Natsuo’s grin widens, “and I can’t say I wasn’t curious ‘bout the kind of person my brother fell in love with”.

You knew what Touya would say to that. You're too good for me, I don’t want to hurt you. You should’ve seen through it then, with every premature apology. People only say those things when they know they’re going to hurt you. 

Over your thoughts you hear the siblings begin to talk again with affection, your eyes drawn to the empty end of the table. You should be here, you think, I wish you were here. 

Kaiyo returns excitedly with a large picture frame held to his chest, the paint worn and flaking, encasing an old school photograph of Touya. His uniform is buttoned to the top, face youthful and pale, not a scar to be seen. You recall his discomfort with high collared clothing, always irritable against his sutures. 

Following behind is Rei with an album of family pictures. Some of them have been awkwardly cut, some burnt along the edges, some faces notably scribbled over with a pen almost out of ink.

“Mama look, he really does look like me. And dad’s hair was white! Did he colour it like that, too?”

“No sweetheart,” you murmur with gaze fixed to the page as it turns in Rei’s lap, the siblings all gathered around to look, “remember, he told you he had red hair like yours, but it changed like magic”. 

“So cool,” he mumbles in awe under his breath, “dad is so cool”. 

Rei stiffens minutely. Maybe that, too, was uncomfortably familiar. 

The conversation continues into the late afternoon, moving only to sit beneath the clear skies and stretch your legs, Rei guiding you along her well loved flowerbeds. They tell Kaiyo stories of his father, diluted but true for the most part, their smiles tightening with the memories. It feels odd, wrong, mourning a man that is very much alive. You give them a piece of him and in exchange, they offer one back as the hours pass. You come to know another Touya — their Touya — and when you line him up aside your own you find that they aren’t all that different.  

As Kaiyo’s confidence grows with his newfound family he begins to wander. Natsuo lifts him into the air and he laughs joyfully, a sound you wish you could solidify and keep by your breast, and they take off to hide in the house with Fuyumi close behind. 

“Are you sure it’s ok for him to play indoors? I’d hate to leave any mess—”

Rei smiles. The light reflects against the crown of her head forming something of a white halo and Shouto is at her side, eyes softening at his mothers happiness. 

“I assure you it’s alright,” she says, “truthfully I think I’ve missed the mess”. 

You think of toys left astray, crayon smudging cheap wallpaper, juice rings staining the coffee table. Marks of your little boy left all around the apartment. Touya cursing as he steps on a building block, hopping on one leg theatrically to make Kaiyo laugh. Touya spilling the warm bottle of milk as he falls asleep and Kaiyo on his chest, exhausted from a day without rest. 

“I know what you mean,” you reply. 

Shouto only blinks. You couldn’t imagine that he was allowed to make much of a mess at all, and that thought alone makes you ache. His brow furrows then, and anticipation settles in your gut. 

“There was something we wanted to ask of you now Kaiyo is distracted,” he seeks Rei’s support as he talks, and she nods gently before turning to face you. 

“As we’ve told you… Touya is not being cooperative to treatment. In all honesty, we are getting anxious that he will be removed from the programme,” she says with regret, “you are free to refuse. But as you suggested when we first met, I thought he might benefit from knowing you’re safe”.

It feels as if the ground beneath your feet has steepened, a weightlessness flooding through your chest, and you reach for the closest pillar on the veranda to steady yourself. 

“You’ll let me visit him?” 

“Strings can be pulled to get you a visitor's pass,” Shouto confirms sagely, “typically it is for professionals or family. Which you now are”.

You hadn’t even let yourself entertain the idea of being able to see him again. The possibility of hearing his voice, of holding him again, felt too good to be true. 

“And Kaiyo? Where will he stay?” you ask, “I can’t take him with me, I don’t want him to see his father like that—” 

Approaching you from the house is the soft, pitter patter of socked feet. You feel a weight fall on your back, Kaiyo interrupting to wrap his limbs around your waist and neck, giggling into your nape. Natsuo lands unceremoniously on the tatami matts, leaning himself against the inside of the sliding door panels with pink blossoming on his cheeks, “damn, kid. You’ve got too much energy”.

“Your house is so big, grandma,” the words carrying a little embarrassment as Kaiyo says “ours is a lot smaller”.

“Sometimes houses are too big,” Natsuo reassures as he slumps forward to rest his chin against his fist, “you can get lost and feel lonely in a big house. I bet at your place, you can always find your mama, huh?” 

He nods, bouncing on the balls of his feet and rocking your body forward with the motions, “does that mean dad was lonely in the big house?” 

Rei’s hands wring tightly in her lap, the question pulling a forlorn atmosphere over the three, and you’re quick to try and rectify it. “Even if he was, he won’t be anymore because he has you,” you say as you twist your body to pull him into your arms, squirming as your touch curls against his ticklish stomach, “isn’t that right?” 

“Yes,” he stammers between deep inhales, giggles tumbling from his lips and ringing across the garden. Rei reaches to thread her fingers through his hair, the red stark against her skin.

“You are both free to sleep in my guestroom tonight,” she offers warmly in response to your earlier concern, “we will watch him while you’re busy tomorrow”. 

“We can have a sleepover!” Natsuo shouts, the excitement forcing him to sit straight and eyes gleaming. Kaiyo gasps, mirroring his uncles enthusiasm as he clings to your shoulders. Shouto, however, remains plain faced as his gaze flickers between the two. 

“Is it really that fun?” he asks. You hide your abrupt laugh into Kaiyo’s hair as Natsuo’s expression settles into disbelief. 

“What? You’ve never had a sleepover in the dorms?”

“We have a curfew,” Shouto shrugs, and Natsuo guffaws.

“What the f… heck is wrong with your school—”

As they bicker you observe contentment settle around Rei. A gentle breeze passes through the shrubbery and you hear the leaves rustling, light breaking through the canopy above and dancing along the grass. Fuyumi calls everyone back into the house as the scent of curry is coaxed out into the open, and you all make your way to the dining area. 

The night comes sooner than you expect. Kaiyo whines at the full feeling in his stomach, cheeks orange and smattered in sauce. Apparently Rei brought over all the childrens things during her move — everything, from toys to certificates to baby clothes, and you’re offered the hand me downs with a wistful smile. 

Aside from the red sleeves the shirt is white, a flame embroidered into the centre and the word fire written below it. Then you’re given an old blanket, slightly thread bare and clearly well loved. It is a light purple, faded after years of being washed, and dotted with stars. It’d belonged to Touya, she’d said, he always loved stars. Kaiyo clutches it tightly to his chest where he lay across from you on the guest futon. 

“Did you have fun today?”

The covers shift, a tell tale sign that he’s kicking his feet. “Yes mama,” he mumbles, nose wrinkling as he fights to keep his eyes open, “I feel really happy”. 

“I love you baby,” you hum fondly, leaning over to needlessly readjust the covers once more, if only for an excuse to kiss his forehead again, “are you sure you’ll be alright while I’m gone tomorrow?” 

Kaiyo nods, cheek turned against his pillow, jaw already slackening as he succumbs to sleep. It isn’t home, there’s no glowing iridescence on your bedroom ceiling tonight, but the space across from you feels empty as it always does. 

“Watching you two sleep soundly together was the happiest I’d ever been,” he’d said. You have no doubt in your mind that he had been telling you the truth. 

When you're pulled into consciousness it happens gently, the house so quiet that it’s unsettling. You were used to rousing with voices in the streets, car engines spluttering as they passed, thuds from the apartment above your own. Here it’s peaceful, a reality that you never thought you’d come close to, and for a moment you can hardly believe you’re awake. 

The staff offer to make the two of you breakfast but you politely refuse, a possessive twist in your stomach. Accepting help never came easily to you, a deeply buried seed of insecurity in your heart that first leapt to defensiveness. You could feed your son just fine on your own. 

Rei joins you soon after tending to her potted plants, Kaiyo pushing up onto the tip of his toes to kiss her cheek as she holds her dirtied hands away from his clean clothes, passing by you to wash the soil from between her fingers. “Grandma, will you have breakfast with us?”

“Of course,” she smiles. 

The rest of the family slowly trickles into the dining room with slow, sleep leaden movements. A full table, a full heart, a full stomach. Breakfast tastes all the better in their company, even Kaiyo seems to have soaked up the serene atmosphere as he quietly recounts a strange memory he had to Fuyumi. 

Still, the dread begins to settle, your knee bouncing restlessly and concealed by the table cloth. Hiroki enters the house with a deep bow and a lanyard around his wrist, your ID badge clipped securely to the end. “It’s best we leave now to avoid any run-ins with the press,” he tells you apologetically, “the likelihood is low. But I’d like to completely mitigate the chance, if possible”. 

Kaiyo lingers in the genkan, shifting on either foot, fiddling with the strings on his sleep shorts. “I’ll be back later, baby,” you hook your pinky around his and squeeze, “I promise”.

He presses a wet kiss to your cheek and you do not wipe it away, the morning air cooler on the skin where the imprint is left. An off duty officer waits by the curb to follow behind Hiroki’s vehicle — another safety precaution, they say — and he opens the side door on your behalf. 

“What will happen once we get there?” you ask, stare fixed on the streets as they speed past, flocks of people continuing with their days as normal. The thin, plastic card in your hands feels like lead. 

“Upon arrival the officer will escort you to the reception as I am not permitted to enter the building,” he explains while subtly adjusting the rear view mirror to watch you, “you will sign yourself in and then you’ll just have to wait. I’m afraid Master Touya isn’t aware that you are his visitor, so it’s entirely possible he’ll refuse to see you…”

Eventually the words become muffled, a disjointed hum in your ears, and your fingers tighten around the lanyard. You play out every hypothetical in your head, try to script questions in preparation, explanations and excuses. But you come up empty. 

Anything that you think of would be rendered useless as soon as you laid eyes on him. 

Pulling in, you survey the land. The facility is double fenced, double gated, and for all intents and purposes it looks to be a prison. There are patients spread out across the grounds, some lounging in the shade while others gathered under staff supervision. 

Surprisingly you are hesitant to part ways with Hiroki, the man bidding you goodbye with a bow and with promise to pick you up as soon as you’re done. The click of your shoes echoes throughout the building as you walk, the accompanying officer striding ahead of you and silent, beckoning you hastily through the security scanners.

A man stands incredibly tall behind the desktop screen situated atop the main desk, large auburn jackrabbit ears protruding from the crown of his head, paired with two large antlers. As you approach his nose wrinkles. 

“Pass?” he asks, interrupting any chance of you greeting him. You swallow the agitation in your chest and show him the ID card, to which he scans with a handheld device and waits until it beeps. Satisfied, he hands you a clipboard detailing a list of names and tells you to find yours. 

“Write your signature in the arrival slot, and when you leave write it in the departure slot. Wait to be called upon in the seating area”. 

You exhale shakily as you sink into your chair, taking in the room, unable to describe it as anything other than impersonal. You had spent a good deal of adulthood working in a clinical setting, and yet this place only seems to make you uneasy. No colourful posters, no informative leaflets, no magazines for people to read. No stickers by the doors, no colour in the staff uniform, guards posted at every entrance. 

Eventually a red light above the doors to the wards flashes red, a loud buzz cutting through the silence and startling you so harshly your chair scrapes against the tile. A doctor calls your name from the doorway, all eight of her beady eyes observing closely as you get to your feet. 

“The patient is being given forty milligrams of quirk suppressant every four hours while he acclimates to his skin grafts. So rest assured he will not burn you,” — you quickly smother your anger at her insinuation — “since you have a high ranking family pass, contact has been allowed, but if anything goes awry there are guards posted at the door”. 

You’re barely given time to process her explanation or the new information as she abruptly comes to a halt, almost stumbling into her back. All eight of her eyes blink at you expectantly as the door clicks open, inclining you to enter. 

“Thank you,” you mutter as you pass, flinching when the door once again clicks shut. You steel yourself with a deep inhale, lungs ballooning to expend the anxiety spiking throughout your chest, and lift your head. 

The air remains there, held in your mouth so as not to make a sound. Touya stands across the threshold with his back to you, facing the wide barred up windows and observing the other patients. He’s in a loose fitting t–shirt and pants, all white and blending into the rest of the room. Where the collar dips below his nape you can see pink, inflamed skin, and for a moment you are reminded of your first meeting. 

“Finally decided to come look your failure in the eye, did you?” his voice is harsh, like talking through gritted teeth and lilted with sarcasm. You’re frozen in place, muscles tensed as if you were bracing for impact, throat swelling just from hearing him speak again. 

“Hate to say it but there’s no cameras here,” he laughs, a hollow and dry sound as he begins to turn, “so you can drop the fuckin’ act—”

The anger dissipates as soon as he meets your gaze, his seething grin slipping until his jaw slacks in surprise. Even as your eyes sting you cannot blink for fear that he’ll disappear, a wishful figment of your imagination. He’s really here, a few feet from you, flesh and blood and breath. 

Closer now, you can clearly see there are lines of scarring where his previous body had been sutured together. No longer held by staples and rings, the patchwork skin fitting the curve of his cheeks without pulling taut and tearing. He doesn’t wince in discomfort as his expression contorts into disbelief, as his brows pinch and he starts toward you. 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing here?” 

Even with the obvious ire behind his words you aren’t frightened by him. Your legs carry you to meet him halfway, reflexively reaching out for him in all the ways you had longed to over the past few months, only for him to catch you by your wrists. His grip tightens in warning, answer me he snaps, but his demand goes ignored. You’re focused entirely on how cold he feels, sharp around your forearms, just like his tongue. 

“You’re freezing,” you whisper.

He huffs in exasperation, a sound you never knew you could miss. “I know,” he says, dropping your arms as his hold loosens and you silently mourn the loss, “it’s like this all the fuckin’ time now”. 

“Because you don’t have your quirk?” 

He nods curtly, lips twisting in disdain, the confusion in his eyes sinking through realisation and settling on betrayal. “You’ve been getting cosy with my family, haven't you? It’s the only way you would’ve been able to get in here,” he sneers.

You rub away the chill from your inner wrist, following him further into the room as he walks away from you, pleading with him to listen before he makes any assumptions. “Touya, it isn’t what you’re thinking—”

“Don’t call me that!”

Your own anger steers you then, frustrated by his refusal to hear you.  “Touya. Touya. Touya. Touya,” you repeat childishly until he spins on his heel to glare at you. I’m going to keep your name in my mouth until my last breath, you think.  Arguing, scowling, you’ll take anything in this moment as long as he keeps looking at you. 

“Your mother and sister tracked me down, I didn’t go looking for them—” your own fault, you shouldn’t have been there “—they wanted to help me. They wanted to look out for your son!”

He hums like he doesn't believe it, and the forced amusement in his smirk irritates you, crawling hot through your chest. “I bet you’ve been enjoying all that bastard's money, right? He’s got plenty to throw at you and keep you quiet”.

You almost forget to breathe with how his accusation takes you by the throat, the regret crossing his features being the only thing keeping you in the room. It’s hard to handle his vitriol when it is directed at you, hard to see him like this, so wounded and cornered. In his mind you have gone behind his back, you have sought help from the people who hurt him the most, and you are only here on their orders. 

It’s a cycle he cannot break from. He’s gone again, tethered still to the world, but they are all moving on without him. He’s gone again, tucked away where no one needs to look at him, and they are all better for it. 

“I have not met Endeavor and I have made it clear that Kaiyo will not meet him either,” you tell him firmly, “I have not, and will not, accept financial help from that man. You… I’d never do that to you”. 

He wilts then, partially limbless as he sinks back against the hospital bed frame tucked beneath the barred window, covers still spotless and unused. As you glance up at the star-less ceiling, you wonder if he manages to get any sleep at all. 

“Why are you here?” he asks again, no fight left in his words. Without the bravado to keep him up he looks exhausted, torpid. You join him cautiously, settling yourself on the edge of the mattress. 

“To reassure you that we’re okay. That we aren’t in any danger,” you murmur, splaying your hand out in the space between your bodies, “we’re worried about you, Touya. Why aren’t you talking to them?”

He rests his hand beside yours, stretching out his pinky to hook over your own; the one you’d linked with Kaiyo only two hours before. “What good would that do?” he says, “I’m defective and this is just a waste of taxpayers money. Why let me live in the first place?”

The worst part of it all is the grating monotony in his tone, the total disregard for his own life and wellbeing. “Don’t say things like that,” you rasp, “it isn’t true. You have a real chance to do better now”.

“Fuck you,” he snorts without malice, giving a light shake of his head as he continues, “I was always going to end up here. You knew the path I was going to take from the start”. 

“And so did you, Touya!” 

The words come hoarse as they catch in your throat, heavy where they press against your nerves. Around you the room becomes smaller, stifling, and yet he is still miles from your reach. You’d do anything if only it meant wiping that look of indifference from his face. 

“You knew, and you could have made the effort to change. Don’t act as if this was predestined for you, it was your own choices that led you here—” 

“This wouldn’t be happening if you just hadn’t come looking for me!”

“Of course I looked for you,” you pleaded with him, “what would you have had me tell Kaiyo?”

“That I was dead,” he replies plainly, “he would’ve been better off”.

“You…” fatigue floods your system and you feel yourself sink back against the bed frame “…you truly believe that”. 

You don't sob, don't let yourself whimper, you simply let the salty burn overtake your vision and clog your throat, thick and cloying. “Don’t cry,” he murmurs, “you know I’m bad with crying”. 

“You’re crying too,” and he laughs humourlessly, eyes still dry. Amongst the quiet you can hear people outside talking, the window panel slightly ajar to let in a continuous breeze, carrying in the scent of spring. You shiver, and when his icy touch begins to move away you upturn your hand, interlocking your fingers together to keep him there. 

You can feel him watching you as you appraise his belongings. No character, no personality, everything looks brand new and unused. Compared to your stingy one bedroom apartment tucked away in the sparse Yokohama neighbourhoods, this place was completely lifeless. He must hate it here, waking up in yet another unfamiliar place against his will, treated as if he were something to fix.

Though after everything he’s been through, it must be a relief to do something bad and be punished for it, rather than to be punished for all the things you couldn’t do. 

“How is he?” he asks, ending the drawn out silence. 

“He knows something isn’t right,” you say, feeling the chill along your wet cheeks, “he wants to see you”.

He makes a sound of acknowledgement as he strokes his thumb along the back of your hand. You tighten your grip, still habitually cautious of the sutures that are no longer embedded into his skin. “What a kid wants isn’t always what’s good for them”.

“That’s priceless coming from you,” you huff, and he knocks his shoulder against yours in response. Bittersweet, you recall how you sat beside him on a hospital bed just like this five years ago, IV hooked into his veins to ward off infection. Hair white, skin mottled, growing accustomed to your freely given affections. 

You breathe, the exhale long, and lean your weight into his side. Your hands, still interwoven, rest together in your lap. “We just wanted to be closer to you,” you tell him, your apology unspoken, “Kaiyo misses you. I miss you. Even if I’m angry with you, don’t ever believe that we aren’t thinking of you”. 

The word sorry does not come naturally to Touya, it never has. Remorse was best shown through action, overbearing attention and unnecessary gift giving that only ever left you wondering who he’d stolen from. When he rests his cheek atop your head, nuzzling softly into your hair, you know he’s trying to apologise as well. 

So you recount everything that happened over the past two weeks. Of nightmares and paranoia, of old photographs and starless ceilings, of autumn bellflowers and cultural dissonance. You rush each story, unsure of how much time you would be allowed in this place, nor how often you would be able to visit. And he listens, slowly sagging against you the more you speak, your bodies two beams upheld by the other. 

“Oh, and the driver called him ‘young master’ at first,” a small grin pulls at your lips at his amused snort, the only sign that he was still awake, “I know. I told him right away not… not to call him that. I knew you’d hate that”.

His muscles tense then as an intrusive knock reverberates throughout the room, a white knuckled grip on your hand at the interruption. The doctor from before steps into the threshold and is followed closely by one of the guards, eight eyes blinking simultaneously as she takes in the scene, her expression unreadable. 

“Your allotted time for visitation is up,” she says, her voice softer than before and perhaps even tinted with regret, “I’ll give you a few moments to say goodbye and notify your driver”. 

A part of you wishes that the wordless goodbye you gave back at the hospital by the hyacinth beds had been your last, because this time around it is impossibly harder. If his expression is anything to go by you think, if he could, Touya would freeze your hands together in an eternal block of ice. 

“Touya,” he begrudgingly meets your gaze, “what happened to you was undoubtedly a tragedy. Still you— you hurt people, and you need to accept that. I’m not going to tell you to forgive anyone, you don’t have to, but…”

You lean forward, pressing your forward to his “…even if others can’t, I want you to forgive yourself”.

“For who I was or for who I wasn’t?” he mutters, so close you can see the stray white stripes in his eyelashes. The doctor clears her throat quietly where she lingers by the door, and so you get to your feet. His throat bobs as he swallows, expression suddenly pleading as you let him go, and you take his face between your hands. 

His cheeks are rough, the sore skin raised under the pads of your thumb. “For all of it,” you say. 

You’d always thought that love didn’t need to be so complicated. Sometimes it was as simple as I see you, and I understand you. Sometimes it was dirtying your hands to make their life a little easier. Sometimes it simply took the form of an illusion, and all you needed was for someone to point out the tangled lines, the true image irreversibly seen. 

“We love you. If that means anything to you, then take advantage of this second chance and let yourself be better”. 

Afraid of testing their patience, you step away from the bed, heading towards the door where your guide awaits. While only four strides, it feels like a lifetime, and you find yourself dragging your feet to stall for time. The thought of leaving him here made your stomach sink, an invisible magnetism tied to your spine and begging you to turn around. 

You startle as the guard suddenly steps forward, recounting Touya’s patient number with warning, but the doctor holds her hand out to settle him. You’re tugged back against a firm chest, familiar if not for the deathly temperature, arms circling firmly around your waist. 

Their presence falls away as he kisses you, and the sensation is new. No awkward angle, no need to be aware of his sutures, no copper tang left on your tongue as you pull back. Once, twice, and thrice — Touya kisses you without regard for time he was wasting, for the people who were waiting to take you home, and you give him every extra second you have. 

“Tell Kaiyo I’ll be out by the time he starts his training at JAXA,” he murmurs. You laugh wetly, finally forced to take your leave. 

“Better make that ten years sooner, you hear me?” 

The door begins to shut behind you and he’s crying again, eyes dry as he calls out to you.

“No promises!”

Relaxant

K. Sakusa

Pairing: TIMESKIP!Kiyoomi Sakusa x f!reader

Summary: You help your roommate relax.

WARNINGS: NSFW!Smut, Oral Sex (m.receiving) Angry Sakusa,

*this is like a year old and I really love Sakusa, so I thought to post on here

Sakusa was furious.

You two were roommates, and he had made sure you were aware of his hatred for germs. Which is why he begged you not to go to the party. But you still did, not wanting to miss out on the fun.

When he noticed you were gone, he immediately knew where you had gone, and picked you up. He dragged you back to the apartment, which brought you to this position, he was yelling at you and treating you like a child.

He was walking in circles, yelling while you watched amusingly on the couch.

“It’s not that big of a deal Omi, relax.” You told him, patting the space next to you. He didn’t listen and continued ranting.

After a few more minutes of ranting, you stood up and dragged him and forced him to sit on the couch.

“I’ll help you relax.” You said, as you got on your knees.

Sakusa watched as you unbuckled his belt and pulled down his pants, along with his trousers. His dick sprung out, and his size surprised you. You grabbed it and pumped it slowly. Your thumb swiped over his slit, spreading the pre-cum.

You spit on his dick, to see what form of his reaction it would cause, but to your surprise he did nothing. You lowered your mouth and licked the tip, which caused him to grunt. You did this a couple more times before bobbing your head.

You tried to fit it all in your mouth, but you gagged since it was too big. Instead of trying again, you took your hand and started stroking the parts you couldn’t fit in your mouth. You took his dick out of your mouth, which made a pop sound. You decided to use your tongue more so you dragged it around the base until it met the tip, which you swirl your tongue around before putting the dick back in your mouth.

As you bobbed your head and hollowed your cheeks, you had the great idea to look up to see if Sakusa was enjoying it. You looked up, and to your surprise his head was tilted back, and his left hand was on his mouth, trying to silence himself. You kept looking at him, as you kept bobbing your head.

He finally looked down at you, and he removed the hand from his mouth, revealing a smirk on his face. He took that same hand and started pushing your head down, making you gag.

“Such a nasty girl.” He continued pushing your head down, “Your mouth feels so good.”

He finally let go after you looked back down and let you do your thing. You took your hand and cupped his balls, which made him let out a low moan. Once again, you used your free hand to stroke the parts you couldn’t reach.

“Fuck keep doing that-” He groaned. And you knew what that meant, he was about to come.

You felt Sakusa twitch in your mouth and not too long after, Sakusa let out a moan followed by him shooting his cum in your mouth. You pulled him out of your mouth and he grabbed your chin, tilting it up making you look at him.

“Open your mouth.” He commanded and you did, showing him his cum. He spit in your mouth, which turned you on even more.

“Such a nasty girl, swallow my cum and my spit.” You did as you were told and swallowed it, which earned you a pat on your head.

“You know, I usually don’t like nasty stuff or people, but for you I’ll make an exception.” He stood up and pulled his pants back up. You also stood up from the uncomfortable position and sat down on the couch. You stared at him as he walked to the kitchen to prepare himself a glass of water.

“And you were right, that definitely did help me relax.” He spoke as he poured the water into the glass. You stared at him, patiently waiting for him to come back.

You expected something in return. He put down the empty glass, and grabbed his keys that were on the counter. You cocked an eyebrow, confused about what he was doing.

“Where are you going?” You asked and he chuckled.

“I have to take care of some business, why? Did you expect something in return?” He scoffed and you nodded in shame, looking at your lap. He walked over to you and grabbed your chin, to make you look at him.

“Disobedient girls don’t get rewards.” He smirked before pecking your lips. Shortly after he left the apartment.

jake sully gripping your ass as support while he thrust

---

Stressful Day.

Pairing: Kunikida x f!reader

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Naughty words, dom!Kunikida, unprotected sex, just pure filth. 

You looked up from the book you were reading on the sofa when you heard the door slam shut.

“Kida?” You called out and stood up, straightening the button up shirt you stole from Kunikida’s wardrobe that evening. Your boyfriend had been getting home later recently due to the increased workload dumped on him because of his co-workers… Dazai especially. You sighed when he didn’t answer and adjusted your underwear, before going in search of him. Just as he kicked off his shoes aggressively at the entrance of your shared home, he stormed past you, grabbing your upper arm, dragging you to the bedroom.

“Kida, honey?” You whimpered as his grip tightened around your limb. The bedroom door swung into the wall at the force he opened it, quickly followed by it being slammed as he almost threw you into the room. You turned to look at him, and before you could see anything, each hand grabbed a side of the shirt you were wearing and yanked hard. Buttons popped off and fabric tore under the force of the pull, leaving your chest bare before Kunikida, nipples hardening at the sudden exposure.

You gasped, hands flying to take your boyfriend’s hair out of his usual ponytail as his lips attached to one of your breasts. He sucked on the skin of your chest roughly, dragging a mewl from your lips as your hands tangled themselves into his blonde locks.

“That bastard is insufferable” Kida growled against your skin, fingers digging into your hips with a bruising grip after he’d pulled the remains of his shirt from your body. You could only answer with a moan as he shifted to your other breast, sucking your nipple into his mouth roughly, swirling his tongue around the stiff nub. You were in for it now.

“Gets away with doing nothing for the agency.” Kida grunted as he jerked your underwear down your legs, picking you up out of the fabric pooling on the floor and threw you onto the bed. He discarded his own clothes with an almost inhuman speed before joining you on the bed, forcing your already shaking legs open for him. His head dipped between your legs and he gave you a forceful, long lick along your cunt, drawing a loud moan from your heaving chest. He didn’t often lose his temper like this, but whenever he did, you knew you were in for a long night.

“Useless, suicidal maniac” He snarled against your thighs, biting down as he roughly pushed his middle finger deep into your folds. He pinned your hip to the bed with his free hand as you tried to buck your hips to his hand, stretching you out as he forced another finger deep into your heat. Your head fell back onto the pillows as you moaned at the sensation, gripping at the sheets beneath your body. Kunikida’s rhythm was fast and brutal, and it had you drenching his hand within no time at all, almost making you scream when he attached his mouth to your clit, sucking harshly as he curled his fingers into that special spot you were hoping for him to pay attention to.

You felt his pace falter for a split second as your walls clamp around his fingers, and your hands yanking at his hair as the coil of pleasure that was building in the pit of your stomach snapped, and your first orgasm of the night washed over you hard and fast.

“Bastard doesn’t know how much stress he causes” Kunikida growled, pulling away from your pussy, licking his lips. He used the juices from his fingers to slick up his length, pumping himself a few times before the commands started.

“All fours. I won’t ask again.” He snarled and you complied, afraid of what the punishment would be if you dare disobey him when he was in this mood. He once again forced your legs open wide enough for his liking with his strong leg before positioning himself behind you.  You moaned loudly as Kunikida forced his cock into you with one, rough thrust, grunting in satisfaction as he bottomed out within you. He didn’t waste time for you to adjust to his size like he usually would, before grabbing your hips harshly, pulling out of your heat almost entirely before snapping his hips back to yours.

He held the animalistic pace he set, hitting so deep within you that you were already seeing stars. Your moans and gasps only spurred him on more, as he wrapped your long hair around his fist, yanking your head upwards, as he continued to pound into you ruthlessly from behind.

“You’d never be such an inconvenience, would you?” He snarled into your ear. A shudder ripped down your spine and his words caused you to clench around him for the second time that night.

“N-No Sir! Please…” You begged, although unsure what for. Another rumble sounded form his throat as he released your hair, using your hips to pull you back onto him with even more force than you knew was possible. The coil within you snapped harsher than the first time as you came, your juices leaking from your hole as Kunikida forced himself into you over again. Your knees almost gave in under you as his actions only sped up, your orgasm not fazing him in the slightest.

“Kida, baby, please… ah! T-Too much…” You whimpered through ragged breaths. It landed a harsh smack to your backside, causing you to yelp, your body arching away from the sudden pain.

“We’re not done until I say so.” His voice was raw; primal even. He shifted all his weight to his knees and pulled your body up to his chest by your throat. Your moans were restricted but it didn’t stop you letting them go as your boyfriend began to hit all the right spots from this new angle.

“You have one more in you for me, correct?” He whispered hoarsely in your ear as his free hand snaked around your waist and dipped between your legs, the pad of his thumb circling your soaked clit at a pace matching his thrusts. You whined out at the sensation, already overstimulated, but nodded the best you could with your other half’s hand still around your throat. He let his guard drop and moaned properly as your walls began to close around him once again, his thrusts becoming rapid and uncoordinated. You threw your head back onto his shoulder, heat rising in your body as Kunikida managed to rip another orgasm from your body. He growled loudly, grip tightening on your throat and his hand working quicker on your clit to keep you through your high, before he pressed his hips flush with yours, emptying hot, thick ropes of cum within you. You whined out in relief and pleasure as you felt Kunikida’s cock pulse against your walls, his pace slowing to a stop as his own ecstasy began to die down. You winced a little as he pulled his now softening member from you, and you both collapsed on the bed, completely spent.

You snuggled into Kida’s chest and hummed softly against his sweat-slicked skin as he wrapped his arms around you, tracing delicate little patterns along the naked skin of your back.

“I’m sorry, love, I wasn’t too much was I?” He mumbled, shifting to bury his face int your hair. You smiled into him and shook your head.

“Are you feeling a little better?” You asked after a few minutes of silence, neither of you moving. You felt a smile grow on his face, the smile he usually gave you after a session like this; the man was blissed out. He placed a soft kiss on the top of your head and whispered sheepishly against you.

“Much… Thank you…”

𝑯𝑶𝑾 𝑻𝑯𝑬𝒀 𝑴𝑨𝑲𝑬 𝒀𝑶𝑼 𝑺𝑸𝑼𝑰𝑹𝑻

— Tengen Uzui, Kyojuro Rengoku, Giyu Tomioka, Sanemi Shinazugawa, Shinobu Kocho x f!reader

cw. squirting, doggy, fingering, oral, mating press, clit slapping, nipple playing, dacryphilia, riding — rbs are appreciated — m.list

TENGEN UZUI

You sob into the pillow when he angles his hips and begins to fuck against your sweet spot, your dripping walls wrap him so tight that Tengen can’t hold back a gasp, “uhu why are you crying? is this too much for you?” he asks with a grin on his face.

You feel so close, the sheets are soft as you cling, your legs are soft and your arms won’t hold you up, your ass in the air and the lewd sounds of his heavy balls slamming into your swollen, aching nub fill the room.

“Please let me cum,” you moan dropping your face to the pillow. He grunts with each thrust, his grip is rough on your ass as he pushes against you, “you better make a mess, then” he chuckles surrounding your clit with two fingers and rubbing it rough.

You can’t hold back when you’re over the edge, your mouth snaps open as you moan lewdly, “c-cumming…” as you gush around his thick cock, wetting your thighs and the sheets beneath you.

“Shit, that’s it, come on baby one more” Uzui grunts forcing more spurts slamming his thick head into your wet nub, his hands holding you firmly by the ass as you shudder and try to catch your breath.

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