Well Chuuya??? Was It????

Ranpo/reader + Dazai Osamu ➛ getting caught

content: nsfw, teasing, semi-public sex in a storage room, degradation ("slut", "bitch", etc), vaginal sex, finger sucking, thigh grinding | reblogs & comments appreciated!

~2,6k words | ao3 link | kinktober masterlist

There was something unnatural, something outright demonic about how terribly insatiable Ranpo was.

Often, this proved to be an advantage to you — you certainly weren't complaining whenever he spent hours between your thighs, eating you out with a tongue so clever it should have been illegal, or when he kept on fucking you even after having come already, not intent on stopping until you were sobbing out his name in desperate pleas.

Right now, however, you really wished he had some more decency, because humping you in the storage room when you both should have been working was awfully risky; too risky for your tastes.

“Ranpo—, we really should get back to work. Please.” Your voice sounded breathless, and you squirmed as the edge of the shelf dug uncomfortably into the soft skin underneath your shoulder blade. “Someone's going to wonder where we disappeared to.”

“So?” Ranpo's smirk was cheeky. “Let them wonder. You don't seriously believe Kunikida is going to suspect that we're making out in here.”

“Well, no, but—” You interrupted yourself with a tiny whimper as Ranpo once more rolled his hips against yours; your eyes fell closed on instinct, lashes fluttering against your cheeks. “Please.”

“See? You just invalidated your own concerns. He's not going to look for us. Just focus on me.”

“But someone else might”, you protested weakly, your eyebrows knitted together into a frown. The thought of Yosano or even Fukuzawa finding you both in such a compromising position wasn't a pleasant one. Or, even worse—

Ranpo merely clicked his tongue at you, mirth sparkling in his eyes as he raised a shoulder in a shrug. “You'll just have to stay quiet then.” He leaned forward, lips right next to your ear, voice low; “You can do that, right? Wouldn't want anyone to hear you mewling the way you usually do on my dick, right?”

Heat rose to your cheeks at those words and you narrowed your eyes in disdain, glaring at Ranpo. “I don't mewl.”

“Sure you do.” As if to prove you wrong, his leg suddenly pushed between your thighs, spreading them, and ground down against your crotch, a smirk causing the corners of his lips to twitch upwards when your breath caught in your throat.

A choked out moan left your mouth almost on cue, your legs trying to close again on instinct — in vain, of course.

Another jerk of his leg had you whimpering, his thigh all but rubbing insistently against your cunt, and even though layers of clothing were still hindering you from skin on skin contact, the sensation was intense enough to cause you to throw your head back with a high-pitched whine.

Even worse; your arousal was drenching your panties already, and, God, how were you supposed to keep on working while wearing these once Ranpo decided he was done?

“See? You're mewling like a bitch in heat, and I barely even touched you yet.”

Sometimes you forgot just what a sharp tongue Ranpo had.

The words were crude enough to make you try and hide your face in his neck, dark hair brushing against your forehead, and Ranpo snickered.

“What, are you embarrassed? I'm just stating the facts. I bet you'll be even louder once I actually get to fuck you.”

“Ranpo”, you whined, shaking your head against his shoulder, “We can't, seriously, imagine if someone walks in on us.”

Even though that was what you were saying, desperately trying to cling to the voice of reason, you were unable to stop yourself from grinding down against his thigh as arousal coiled in your abdomen, hot and heavy and terribly persistent.

Your clit was throbbing with need, and with each roll of your hips against his leg, you gasped, faint and high-pitched noises clawing their way out of your throat.

When you took your actions into consideration, your words really weren't convincing.

It seemed Ranpo thought the same.

“Hey, I'm not keeping you from leaving.” His smirk was sleazy, green eyes half-lidded as he pulled away just far enough to get a proper look at you. “If you think it's too risky, better get back to work before anyone notices you're missing, doll. I'll just get myself off.”

You whined in response. “You're unnecessarily cruel.”

“And you're indecisive. That's worse.” With those words, Ranpo pulled his leg back to push down his trousers, carelessly letting them pool around his knees as he grabbed his dick in one hand, a tiny moan falling from his lips. “So? What will it be? Brave enough to take some risks?”

It was getting increasingly difficult to still focus on what he was saying, you noted in the back of your mind. Instead, your attention was all but drawn to the way his cock twitched in his own palm when he rubbed over the flushed head of it, smearing thin precum around, and you were unable to stop yourself from squeezing your thighs together with sudden need.

“Ranpo”, you said, his name lingering between you, thick and tension-filled, and you honestly had no idea what you had been planning to say.

Eventually, as Ranpo raised an eyebrow in anticipation, you managed to choke a plea out, though you weren't sure what exactly you were asking for.

For more or for less, or for him to finally stop jerking himself off, because the sight was seriously driving you mad; the urge to sink down to your knees and suck him off was overwhelming, and yet your cunt was all but dripping with arousal, your own wetness sticking to your inner thighs.

You seriously didn't think you'd be able to handle it if he were to tease you right now.

There were going to be numerous opportunities to let him fuck your mouth in the future. Preferably when you weren't in semi-public.

“Made a decision?” Ranpo eventually quipped, still working himself, and the way he was all but thrusting into his own fist, yet sounded entirely unaffected, made you clench around nothing.

God.

You hesitated for just a moment, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth and watching with some satisfaction as Ranpo's gaze dropped down to your mouth. “Fuck me”, you said, then adding; “Please, just be quick about it.”

Ranpo smirked, wide and all teeth. “With pleasure, darling.”

A second later, you were being turned around, your cheek pushed against the shelf. Despite the position being anything but comfortable, you didn't protest when he flipped your skirt up, greedy hands going straight for your thighs, kneading soft skin through the thin fabric of your tights, only for them to rip a few moments later under his nails.

Your breathing stuttered in your chest as your legs were spread wide apart, your panties pushed down, and the fat head of Ranpo's dick nudged against your cunt. “You're absolutely terrible. I hope you'll get me a new pair.”

“You look prettier without them anyway.” Ranpo merely shrugged, unbothered, and just as you were about to say that this didn't get rid of the actual problem, it being the terribly obvious hole right over your crotch, he pushed into you with one smooth thrust.

The sudden stretch caused you to gasp, your back arching as you scrambled for purchase, finding nothing but a few old documents and the shelf's edge to hold onto.

“You could've at least prepared me.” Your voice was trembling. Luckily, Ranpo at least gave you a few seconds to adjust to his size before he pulled out of you, only to thrust back in, his narrow hips slapping against your plush ass.

“Thought you wanted me to be quick about it.” His smirk was audible in his voice. “Besides, you're wet enough to take me either way.”

You weren't able to do much more than whimper in response. At a particularly sharp thrust, your knees buckled underneath your own weight and a high-pitched cry, terrifyingly loud, left your mouth.

Ranpo whistled. “Seems like you really want to be caught”, he commented, the teasing tone to his voice mean; one hand of his rested on your hip as his pace increased, his thrusts deep enough to make you moan again and again, even as you shook your head almost feverishly.

“No? Are you sure? If you wouldn't want that, you'd at least try to keep quiet, but I don't see you biting down on your lip or even just holding your hand in front of your mouth.”

The words earned another whimper from you; this time, you felt oddly caught, like you had been trying to draw attention to you on purpose, though that couldn't have been farther away from the truth.

“I bet you'd just love it if someone were to see you like this, spread open on my dick. Our lovely secretary, always ready to help us detectives out, even if it's just by spreading her pretty legs.” A quiet laugh as you clenched instinctively around him; a reaction based on humiliation not guilt, you were sure. “See? I knew it.”

You were panting by now, your eyelids drooping and whole body shaking. It was terribly obvious that Ranpo's grip on your hip was the only thing still keeping you standing as he ground his hips against yours with slow and deep thrusts that had you tightening, wet walls pulsing.

Your mewls turned more needy the closer you got, impatience obvious in your whiny tone, and just as you were sure you were about to come did Ranpo stop moving at once.

An unhappy noise left your mouth, but before you were able to complain, two lithe fingers pushed past your lips, effectively gagging you.

Moments later, you finally realised why Ranpo had stopped his merciless pace — there were steps, light and irregular, approaching the exact storage room you were currently hiding in.

There was no lock on the door.

You tensed, clenching around Ranpo's dick without meaning to; the action earned you a barely stifled grunt.

“Guess your kink about getting caught is going to become reality”, he said, his raspy voice right next to your ear. “Hope it's not the President.”

Just as you were about to tell him to shut up, the steadily growing louder noise of dress shoes against tiles stopped.

Then, sunlight from outside flooded your sight and your breath caught in your throat as someone stepped into the tiny room, immediately closing the door again.

Your eyes widened as they met dark brown ones.

“My, my; now would you look at that?” Dazai's teasing tone made your blood run cold; ice water coursing through your veins as the terrifying reality of the situation sunk in. “Someone's avoiding work, it seems. How terribly naughty of you both.”

Ranpo scoffed. “And what are you doing in here? Definitely not working, it appears.”

God, he was still inside of you, his dick hard and hot and so close to nudging against your g-spot, and yet his voice sounded entirely unaffected.

That shouldn't have been quite this hot.

“Ah, you caught me. Clever as always, Ranpo.” Dazai's smile was cheeky. “I'm hiding from Kunikida. I'm sure he'll cave and do my paperwork if I'm not around.”

“Seems we both need this room then.”

“Yes, it seems so.”

Suddenly, Ranpo thrust into you, his hips slapping against your plush ass, and you all but keened at the sudden stimulation.

A mere second later, however, you found yourself to be nothing but terrified.

“Ranpo”, you choked out, horrified and with wide eyes, though you clenched around his dick on pure instinct; “God, Ranpo, stop, we can't—”

Your face was tingling with heat and embarrassment, and your sudden humiliation only worsened when he didn't stop; instead, he picked up his previous rhythm again, slow deep thrusts that had you whimpering and whining.

“Why should I?” You were able to all but feel Ranpo's lips curl into a smirk against your throat. “You're enjoying yourself quite a lot. I don't see a reason to stop, darl.”

A choked out noise left your lips. “But Dazai—”

“Saying another man's name while it's Ranpo fucking you?” Dazai suddenly quipped, his eyes alight with amusement. “That's rather impolite, bella. I'm just saying, but I'd be quite upset if I were him.”

As if to prove a point, two of Ranpo's fingers, still wet with your saliva, squeezed your pebbled nipple, meanly enough to make you shriek.

Tears welled up in your eyes, embarrassment blooming hot and heavy in your chest. “Ranpo, but he's—”

Dazai smirked, wide and feral. “Please, don't stop on my account.”

Ranpo huffed out a laugh, his breath warm against your neck. “See? He doesn't mind”, he said, and that was that.

Moments later, he reached down with one hand, lithe fingers circling around your throbbing clit, and you whimpered as your knees buckled, your head spinning. Your chest was heaving with each sharp inhale you took, your nipples rubbing against the fabric of your blouse, and you briefly wondered that you were still able to stand with how weak you felt.

At once, you noticed the wet clicking noise distinct in the room, not quite matching the rhythm of Ranpo's movements. It took you a while to figure out that it came out of Dazai's direction.

You regretted looking up the moment your eyes met his.

Dazai had sat down on the edge of a cupboard, leaning back leisurely, and one hand of his was steadily jerking his own dick off, his thumb swiping over the fat head of his cock. Precum dribbled down the girth of it while he held your gaze, entirely unashamed; smug, if anything.

The sight tore an unexpected moan from you, your walls pulsing around Ranpo's dick, and Dazai's smile widened.

“Someone's naughty”, he cooed, voice all but dripping with mirth as he tilted his head to the side, the motion oddly feline. A cat that had already caught the canary. “Do you enjoy watching me get myself off? My, that's so lewd, love.”

You merely whimpered in response while pointedly turning your head away again — or at least trying to do so. The second you hid your face in the crook of your elbow, Ranpo's hand fisted in your hair, grabbing a good chunk of it to keep you from doing so, and the sudden blur of pain and pleasure pushed you over the edge.

You came with a high-pitched moan, and it didn't take much more than a few thrusts until Ranpo spilled inside of you, liquid warmth filling you up as a whine left his mouth.

"You look terribly adorable like this, darling”, Dazai crooned, his tone patronising, and you pressed your lips together tightly to avoid making any humiliating noises as Ranpo pulled out, your loose cunt immediately clenching around nothing.

Not that the situation was able to get even worse.

Dazai eventually reached his own orgasm with an undoubtedly exaggerated moan, though you weren't about to call him out for the deliberate way his head fell back, exposing his throat, as he thrust into his hand; not when the picture was one for the Gods.

Eventually, when your breathing had calmed down, you huffed, your eyes narrowed. Despite the way you glared at them both, you doubted you looked all that intimidating right now. Ranpo's cum was still dripping down your thigh. “I'm starting to think you both planned this.” Your voice trembled.

Dazai glanced at you. “And why would we do that?”

“Like I know.” The second you took a step forward, planning to leave the storage closet quickly and rush to the bathroom, your legs gave out. It was only thanks to Ranpo's sudden grip on your hip that you didn't fall, and before you knew it, he pushed you down onto Dazai's lap, green eyes sparkling with amusement. “But I know you did.”

“You're being paranoid, bella.” His grin told you you were being anything but. Not that you got any opportunity to respond; moments later, long fingers pushed into your mouth, sticky with cum. “Be good and clean that up for me, will you?”

➛ tags: @beandaifuku @what-the-stories-have-foretold @lafxox @alpaca-lad @elizaboba @mrsdostoevsky @poptartkingsworld @imchiiii @empresspug @lwqfhp @slvdsjjk @lqurelhell @shinchilo @06charlie06 @69doing @onlinewhisper14 @one4rin @hugs-for-drugs-bro @kasperlive @elebeleb @lauritt @akxtagawaxryxn0sxke @fyodorscumsock @brookesensei @caboline @ashthemadwriter @aku-ryu @owosamu @silverquackson @rakasworld @titamaow @cookieshinigami @beesbeesbees @fiveangrybees @dazaistiddy @pitynoir @random-names-stuff @honie-bunny @angelsrunes @peachy123 @walkingwasteofbandages @deepsweetsbasement @strawberrynamedtobi @cl-0-vr @reihimbo @itssara-chan @gnfwol @nobutyes0 @josie-jovan @leviamere

➛ if you comment i will kiss you on the mouth

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chaos

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

masterlist | rules

“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. they couldn’t exactly sense that cursed energy from you unless you made it specify known.

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, wanda maximoff in general; themes of angst, sad, crack 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 a lil’ 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, meaning that jujutsu kaisen might crossover fandoms like tokyo revengers and bungou stray dog, but all of it will be dependent on the request sent at my inbox / ask-box.

reader is afab unless stated/requested otherwise.

check the links in my pinned post before requesting.

Keep reading

multi-character drabble.

includes the seven minutes in heaven trope, breeding, words like slut, stupid, dumb, idiot, and adult themes so, mdni.

his cum is already dripping down your shivering legs, hasn't it been past seven minutes anyway?

ah, who cares right now? being bred by this large man, was more important than anything else. his hot cum still being plunged into you as he thrusts in a few more times, for good measure. "a-ah, no! 'm still sensitive-aah!" he scoffed, this time, dragging your waist down to his pelvis as you grabbed the shelf to support you again.

"y'er such a slut, b-being so g-goddamn loud for no reason," he muttered, staring at the mixed orgasm oozing out of your cunt. 'ts your fault! you wanted to say, but all you could do was gasp and whine as he suddenly took his cock out and quickly replaced it with his fingers. his breath shaking as he stuffed his cum back inside of you, was he trying to get you pregnant?

"y'er so dumb, y/n...s-stupid girl." he groaned as you grinded back into him, making his cock slowly stand up again..."wan' you...p-please..."your grip still solid on the shelves. "k-keep g-getting y'erself in t-trouble, mmph-then complain 'bout it, idiot." he whispered, shushing you, as his cock slipped in with ease, your loud whimpers and moans echoing in the little store room.

"your pussy feels so warm 'n, snug, aah-i, jus' wanna be here forever,."

toji, bakugo, nagi, barou, atsumu, eren, wc!kunigami, gojo, uni au!sukuna, suna + your favs <3

© starreo 2023. do not copy, translate or repost .

"he's mentally ill"

Bitch I'm mentally ill and that's why we are soulmates.

⊹ I AIN'T NOTHIN' BUT A NASTY DOG!

. . . BSD MEN AS OVERUSED PORN PLOTS!

wc: 5.3k

cw: MINORS DNI—explicit sexual content, gn!+afab!reader, a lot of anonymous sex, dirty talk, BIG DICK MEN, probably a good amount of ooc, some questionable dynamics/dubcon that can be read through the lens of roleplay and/or prior consent. character-specific warnings—chuuya: public sex, penetration; dazai: penetration, riding, creampie; kunikida: professor/student, oral (m!receiving); fukuzawa: secretary/boss, office sex, oral (m!receiving), facefucking; atsushi: HEAVY DUBCON WARNING, stuck, perv atsushi, penetration; akutagawa: blackmailing if you squint, degradation, choking, penetration; oda: penetration; ango: public sex, penetration, riding; nikolai: dubcon, home intruder f!masturbation, penetration; sigma: a tiny bit of perv sigma, oral (f!receiving); fyodor: priest!fyodor, religion/blasphemy kink, christianity-specific, oral (m!receiving)

reid: putting my dual major in journalism to work by subtitling these like bad porn videos. little not so thought out drabbles many with no definitive ending just silly whore thoughts. some are more stupid than sexy but either way i hope you enjoy because this was a blast to write HAHAHAHA

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

⊹ CHUUYA NAKAHARA—HOT GYM BUDDIES CAN’T WAIT UNTIL AFTER THEIR WORKOUT TO FUCK!

“Yeah, that’s a lot better. Look at you, you got it,” the pretty redhead mutters, his hands still firmly on your hips as he spots your squat. “Give me one more, I know you can.”

The praise prompts you to draw in a deep breath that has nothing to do with your next squat; anyway, this gorgeous man, kind enough to help you with your form, believes in you. So you bend once more, squatting down, down, and pushing back up—until on your way back up, you feel your legs begin to buckle.

“Woah, woah.” It’s sweet how concerned he sounds as his hands fly up to the bar and his feet nudge you forward to help you replace the weight on the rack, but his hips end up pressed to yours, and you’re gasping. “You okay?”

You’re fine, caged between him and the bar as he leans over your shoulder to glimpse your face that’s flushed from exertion. Only exertion, surely, even though your ass is pressed firmly to his pelvis. He doesn’t seem hard, but you can still feel it, and it feels big.

“Yeah,” you breathe, moving to duck under the bar, but it’s low and you’re feeling a little dizzy, so you teeter backwards into him, and as his hands find your waist again. “Yeah, I’m about to be done anyway.”

“You should really stretch after maxing out like that,” he suggests, turning you around. “Don’t wanna be hurting, do you?”

But you can only look into his intense eyes and shake your head lightly before he’s easing you to the ground on your back, settling each of his knees over one of your thighs, and slotting his shoulder beneath your hamstring. He pushes forward, gently, slowly, looking to you for anything wrong; and there isn’t.

There’s nothing wrong, except for the fact that you can feel his huge dick against your pussy through both of your shorts.

It’s all you need to start moving blindly, reaching down for his waistband, pawing at his neck, mashing his lips to yours, and he doesn’t hesitate to do it back—he lets up on your leg only to slip your shorts off before your ankle is back over his shoulder and he’s grinding the head of his cock into your wetness.

“You gonna let me in, baby?” he pants hotly, looking down at you squirming beneath him. “Yeah, I know you will—you’re strong, you can take it.”

His tip catches on your clit, and you gasp before he’s plunging into you, setting a brutal pace. “Oh, fuck!”

“Oh, fuck, yeah,” he groans. “So fuckin’ tight.”

He hits the inside of you perfectly, his soft ginger hair falling loose from its low pony—you wish you knew his name so you could scream it, but you settle for moaning, panting, cussing, as he throws your other leg over his shoulder and drills into you on the gym mat. ⊹

⊹ OSAMU DAZAI—MY OLDER BROTHER ALMOST CAUGHT ME FUCKING HIS BEST FRIEND!

“Shit—I’ll be back, gonna go shower this off. Asshole.”

That was what your older brother, Chuuya, grumbled at Dazai before scurrying off to the bathroom. The three of you had just gotten back from getting ice cream, and Dazai had the brilliant idea of snatching Chuuya’s cone from him and sticking it in his hair. Cursing ensued the entire walk home.

And Dazai popped the tail end of his cone in his mouth and grabbed for your wrists as soon as your brother was out of sight, which leads you to now—in the living room, on the couch, bouncing furiously on his cock as he grunts.

“Osamu—be quiet!” you plead with him, but you’re moaning, too.

His lips fall into a grin. “Don’t worry, cutie, I can still hear the shower—fuck! Just keep—keep doing that, you feel so fucking good.”

So you reinforce your grip on his shoulders and slam your hips down to meet his, over and over, drawing sinful sounds from both of your bodies as you’re separated by a single thin wall from your brother—Dazai’s best friend, who would probably murder both of you if he found out you were fucking.

And then the water turns off. You muffle the choked cry you let out into Dazai’s shoulder, so damn frustrated that you won’t get there, not before Chuuya comes back—but Dazai’s flipping you onto your back, grabbing you by your hips, pulling you into him with such fervor that you almost shout.

“Need it, baby, I need to cum in this pussy—”

“Osamu!”

But even you can’t tell if you’re egging him on or warning him to stop—with no sound buffer and Chuuya undoubtedly coming back any minute, your body decides for you that you need it, too, you need to cum and you will, no matter how much your mind protests; your eyes flick nervously up to the hallway when they’re not rolling back from how Dazai’s rearranging your guts.

“He’s gonna come back—unh—and you’re gonna sit here with my cum in you, and he won’t even fuckin’ know.”

He’s digging his nails into your hips and ass, making you twitch, reaching down to rub your clit hard, and when you cum, clenching around him, he shoves his palm over your mouth and spills into you with a last few wet smacks.

Dazai’s scrambling back into his pants as footsteps pad down the hall; he all but throws himself at the other end of the couch as you curl up, dressed but fucked silly, focused on not letting the evidence of what just happened gush out of you and leak onto the couch.

“Fuck was that noise?” Chuuya mumbles, sauntering out as he’s tying his wet hair up.

“Hm? I don’t know, I didn’t hear anything.”

When Chuuya turns toward the kitchen, Dazai tosses you a wink. Your face burns as you feel yourself leaking. ⊹

⊹ DOPPO KUNIKIDA—COLLEGE HOTTIE SUCKS DICK FOR EXTRA CREDIT!

"You do realize I'm going to have to fail you," your professor informs you, looking into your eyes with a little regret. Truthfully, you've always been personable in class and shown promise as a student, and he's disappointed. Not in you, just in your poor academic performance during your final semester.

"There has to be something I can do to make up for it," you nearly plead, hands clasped together on the edge of his desk as you look to him with hope. You know you've been slacking, but you need this class to graduate.

"I don't know—" He sighs your name, clearly confliced. Your attendance record is less than impressive these days, and Kunikida's enforced a strict class participation policy throughout his years of teaching—as well as no extra credit—something he makes clear to all of his students in all of his classes, and you especially should know better after taking his classes for four years. "I don't know. Like what?" Maybe you can do a few credits in the summer and still walk at graduation, or pick up an internship. But he wants you to take the initiative and accountability.

He doesn't really know how to protest when you're slipping out of your seat and sinking to your knees as a spark starts to gleam in your eyes. You rattle off a few academic ideas for posterity, but ultimately find your hands sliding up his thighs and fiddling with his belt.

Fuck it, you think, you'll be out of here soon enough. Plus, Kunikida's always been kind, compassionate, understanding, and sexy—too invested in his field to even notice that handfuls of students on campus would throw themselves at him given the chance. Maybe he'll finally understand, you muse to yourself, as you work his hardening cock out of his dress pants.

He chokes out your name when you take his length in both of your hands; he's all the way gone when you're swirling your tongue over his tip, giving in to your little idea for extra credit sooner than he'd ever admit to himself.

"Oh, fuck—" He's staring up at the ceiling of his office in pure bliss because his student is working hot, sloppy kisses down the underside of his cock. His hands twist into your hair, and you gaze up at him, doe-eyed, as his head falls forward and he looks at you through his glasses. "Keep going. Don't fucking stop."

He's trying not to thrust into your mouth when you fondle his balls; his pretty blond bangs are dampening with sweat, and you can't take your eyes off him as you bob your head faster, hollowing your cheeks around him and moaning at the taste of your professor's cock heavy in your mouth. He twitches and jumps at your attention to detail—your fingers raking tracks down his thighs, your frantic tongue, your fluttering lashes and sugary moans, gags, and slurps that are music to him.

You know, as he falls apart more and more by the second, you won't have to worry about this class anymore.

"Unh—uh, yes, oh, fuck, we'll work something out, yeah, gorgeous? Just don't stop—d—don't stop, don't fucking stop, I'm gonna cum down that pretty throat, yeah, and we'll get it all figured out." ⊹

⊹ YUKICHI FUKUZAWA—NAUGHTY SECRETARY SEDUCES HOT BOSS!

You're perched on his desk when he returns from the meeting—Yukichi, your boss, who, lately, you can't stop thinking about climbling like a tree. You're sure your coworkers see it, too, but you're his personal assistant; no one gets to be as close to him as you, and he trusts you.

Which is why you'll put the moves on him today.

He runs a hand through his silver hair—obviously stressed—sighing as he pulls his office door shut and turns to you. He speaks your name, holds a few papers in your direction, begins instructing you on what he needs from you next.

But you know better what he needs. The papers that make their way into your hands are quickly forgotten about on his desk as you uncross your legs and hop down, sauntering up to place on hand on his arm, the other on his chest.

"Sir, you look so tense. Are you sure there isn't anything else I can do?"

He makes his way to sit down in his office chair, disregarding your touch in a way that has you following after him like a puppy in need of attention.

He doesn't answer, but he also doesn't protest when you settle between his knees beneath his desk and push his yukata and haori up to pool around his hips. His dick is thick and veiny, even soft; when you spit in your hand and begin to work him up and down his mouth falls open with a sigh, and he grows at least two inches as he hardens beneath your grip.

You didn't think you'd be able to fit his absolute monster cock in your mouth, but you find yourself, throat open, with your nose pressed to his happy trail as you swirl your tongue and breathe through your nose frantically; he holds your face down, speaking very little but making up for it with the way he grunts hotly in that deep, rough voice as he bucks into the back of your throat.

"Unh—ugh..."

You breathe through your nose as his hips fall into a brutal pace; his hands on either side of your head keep you pinned in place as he uses you, takes his stress out on you. Your fingers massage his balls, and you can't help the way you hum around him when he twitches in your mouth.

Yukichi pulls out of your jaw and you gasp for air, wiping the spit that drips down your chin with the back of your hand, but he's not done. When he does speak, it's demanding, low, and it makes your cunt throb with need.

"Get up. Get up, sit on the desk. 'Need to fuck you."

You do as you’re told, open up for him with no hesitation, smiling as he works his fat cock into you—yeah, his stress will be gone in no time with the way he fucks your hole so hard and fast that you shake with each creak of his desk. ⊹

⊹ ATSUSHI NAKAJIMA—STUCK IN THE ELEVATOR WITH MY SEXY NEIGHBOR!

"Ah! Atsushi, open the door!"

"Um," he frets, punching the button until he's sure it'll break. If it's not broken already. "I—I can't, it's not working!"

Not working? Is he fucking serious? You're trapped in the door—all you did was try to reach back out for your bag you'd set by the elevator and now you're stuck, by the waist, between the two sliding maneuvers, your bag dangling from your hands.

"It's supposed to have a sensor! It's not supposed to even close when someone's on the threshold!" you cry through your teeth as you try to squirm out. Atsushi's mind is already working, though, over the way you're pinned in half, wiggling your ass as you struggle against the industrial strength of the elevator door. "Atsushi, help me, please call someone or something—"

But his hands are on your hips, pulling backward, and you can't help the noise of surprise that slips out of you.

"Atsu', I seriously don't think that will work, please, just call—Atsushi!"

His hands shake as he slides your pants and underwear down your thighs, exposing your ass; he tunes out your protesting as he undoes his belt. You hear the clink of it hitting the ground, you feel his fingers dipping into your cunt from behind, and he cannot be fucking serious.

"I'm sorry," he cries like it's out of his control—he feels like it is. "I'm sorry, you're so hot, you're right here, I've wanted this for so long."

And you feel yourself beginning to drip at his desperate tone. You can't fucking believe it—this is depraved. This is some shit you would've never expected from the sweet, cute boy in the apartment across the hall who helped you drag your bedframe and couch from this very elevator to your room but here he is, prodding at you with his pathetically leaky cock while you're stuck in the damn elevator door.

And you'd be frustrated with how your body reacts, but as he slides his dick along your cunt, drenching himself in your wetness, you can't help but arch back into his touch.

"Atsushi, you have to fuck me, please."

And he does, fast and unpracticed—he whimpers for you, tells you you're all he thinks about when he jerks off; he confesses that he looks through his peephole when he knows you're leaving for work or school just to get at least one glimpse of you everyday to fuel his imagination, and you gush around him, the pain of the door trapping you falling irrelevant, drifting out of your mind, as he buries his face in your shoulder and humps into you like an animal, pounding against your cervix.

"Fuck, that's right, so good, so, so good—better than I could've imagined—agh, fuck, that's right, take it all, take it, take it, take it...!" ⊹

⊹ RYUUNOSUKE AKUTAGAWA—HOT BABE HAS NO MONEY, LETS THE DELIVERY BOY DESTROY THAT PUSSY!

You rifle through your wallet and hum when you come up short. "Um, I... know you said you don't have a card reader, but I don't have enough cash."

The delivery boy looks at you with little more than boredom until you invite him in.

"Here, let me look in my room—I might have more stashed somehwere..."

He stands over you, searching you with his curious gray eyes as you dig through a drawer, a bag, another bag, only to come up short again. You even peek under your mattress for good measure, but you're just out. You turn to him sheepishly.

"I, uh... I don't have enough, I'm really sorry."

"Well, I can't leave without some form of payment," he deadpans, and you try to think of something, anything—you have a few giftcards for other delivery services, some jewelry—but he's letting his bag fall off his shoulder and grabbing you by the hips before you can register what he means.

You end up face down, ass up on your bed as a compromise, his hips rutting into you from behind as he holds your wrists behind your back. Ryuunosuke his name tag read—you're quick to adopt a way around that mouthful, moaning out, "Ryuu, Ryuu, please!" as he splits you open and calls you a whore.

"Fuckin' slut—"

When you're able to glance back for a second you can see his pretty black hair swaying with each rough thrust, and you're sure he's hitting your lungs—he's so fucking deep inside you, and you're gasping, moaning for more.

"—so eager to—unh—take this dick. Probably hiding your cash somewhere."

But whether you are or not doesn't matter; your eyes are rolling back to the hard smack of his hips against your ass and the white-hot pleasure that rolls through you every time he plows straight into your g-spot, and he's throbbing inside of you at the way your cunt grips him. Your pizza's getting cold on the counter in your kitchen, but you don't care—not when he bunches his fingers up in your hair to arch you back up to him so he can wrap his other hand around your throat.

You hold onto him as he bends you, pulling air down into your lungs when you can, and his gravelly voice barrages you with more words that make you gush around his cock.

"Gonna let me cum in this pussy so you don't have to fork over a few bucks for a pizza? Pathetic."

His teeth sink into your shoulder, his other hand reaches down to torture your neglected clit, and you're sure he's gonna break you over this, your hot delivery boy who just so happened to have the idea to fill you up as payment. You pant his name desperately between thunderous moans—you're gonna cum soon. ⊹

⊹ SAKUNOSUKE ODA—THIS PLUMBER FIXED MORE THAN JUST MY PIPES!

"Okay, that should do it." The man stands up, back to a height at which he towers over you, and you lean on the doorframe to the kitchen as he shuts the cabinets beneath your sink. "It's all movin' again."

You were in your robe when you answered the door, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't run to the bathroom to fix your hair and swipe on a little lip balm while he was working. Really, you hadn't meant to try to fuck the plumber. But this man was gorgeous, with his auburn hair, stubble-lined jaw, large hands, broad shoulders. You felt your eyes widen when you first laid eyes on him, and now you'd been throbbing thinking about what those thick fingers could do other than plumbing.

You pull your robe tighter around yourself, hoping to subtly accentuate the outline of your body. "Thank you so much, really, I don't know what I'd have done without the sink."

"Probably used the dishwasher a lot more," he cracked dryly, and your previous words suddenly feel stupid, but it only serves to make him hotter.

"How should I pay you?" You stride over to him. "Cash?"

"You can just pay online." He looks tired, but he has a well-meaning smile on his face.

You look a little incredulous. "Really? I can't—do you accept tips? Seriously, top notch work and super quick. I can't not thank you."

"I'm really not supposed to take tips," he drawls, running a hand through his hair. You find yourself biting your lip; you can't look away from him. You must look like a rabid animal right now, but you can't help it.

He doesn't tear his eyes away from yours.

"I mean, unless..."

Those three words are what find you on your back in your bedroom with your robe thrown open, the sweet and efficient plumber named Sakunosuke standing at the edge as he impales you on his cock. He worked you open with those fingers first, fast and harsh, just how you begged him to, but nothing could've prepared your weeping hole for the stretch of his fat dick—and now he's pounding into you, his hands clutching your waist as you hold your legs open for him to thrust deeper, deeper.

“Oh, shit. Unh—so wet—“

His groans come from his chest, deliciously—he looks a little like he knows he shouldn't be doing this, but your cunt is sucking him in like it was what he was supposed to come here for all along. You spasm and clench around him and he throws his head back, your whole body rippling as his strong hips and heavy balls smack lewdly against your ass with each thrust.

“Mmph—fuck—break that sink of yours more often, alright?” ⊹

⊹ ANGO SAKAGUCHI—I JOINED THE MILE HIGH CLUB (EXTREMELY RISKY)!

The man you met in the airport bar—oh, he’s pretty.

He's even prettier in your mind when the pilot announces phone permissions now that you're in the air, and the first notification your phone receieves is from him.

I have an open seat next to me in first class. Come visit.

You don't hesitate for a moment. You stride forward from the economy section, past the flight attendants who protest at you flimsily to search for his seat number—you see his unmistakably gorgeous hair, his glasses, his sharp side profile as he speaks to an attendant, catches you in his peripheral, and then shoos her away.

There's hardly niceties before one of your legs is slung over his knee and he kisses you with fervor. You don't think too hard about the people around you—none of whom can actually see you but without a doubt will know exactly what's happening in a few minutes—as you grind down onto his thigh, bite his lips, draw soft gasps from him when your knee nudges his bulge.

Before you know it, his cock is free and he slides your underwear to the side so you can sink onto him; he groans shamelessly when your wet heat envelops him completely, causing heads to turn in your direction, but you just brace your knees against the airplane seat and your hands on his shoulders make quick work of milking him of everything he has.

He kisses you, hot, heavy; he smells good, he smells expensive, and you tear his dress shirt open to rake your nails down his chest as he grabs your hips, letting his head fall back and a full-bodied moan into the cramped air of the plane as he does so. You lift up to let him thrust, let lewd smacks resonate throughout first class, and with your chest in his face he rides your shirt up to latch his teeth to one of your nipples; you echo him, moaning unabashedly, running your hands through your hair, gripping him as people look on.

"Fuuuck, yeah, feels so good," he praises from beneath you. "Knew I had to fuck you from the second I saw you." His eyebrows draw up in concentration as he looks down at where your bodies meet and continues fucking up into you hard. "Hah—listen to that cunt cry for me. You like being watched, huh? Gonna let me fuck you 'til the plane smells like sex? Huh?"

You nod, messily, desperately, and he quickens his pace ever faster, pulling you back down into a sloppy kiss.

An attendant awkwardly approaches in the aisle, but the gorgeous man who's destroying your insides just holds up a palm, shoos her away again.

"Fuck—so sexy. Keep takin' this dick." ⊹

⊹ NIKOLAI GOGOL—LUCKY INTRUDER GETS TO FUCK HORNY VICTIM!

You're splayed out on your bed, two fingers stuffed deep in your cunt—and he's just surprised you didn't hear him breaking the lock on your front door.

When you meet his eyes, you're so glazed over with pleasure that you barely miss a beat, your gaze only blowing wide when he peers around your bedroom doorway. His snowy white hair, his sharp features—you can't find the sense to be alarmed at this unfamiliar man, the one holding your laptop and—is that your wallet?

Doesn't matter—they're clattering to the ground, another factor here you can't find it in yourself to care about as his gray eyes are locked onto you fucking yourself open on your sheets. The sheen of sweat that covers your skin, your desperate moans as you grind your clit against your palm, the obscene squelching that comes from your wet cunt—they all serve to propel him over to you, prompt him to dig his already-hard cock out of his pants as you just watch, beg him with your stare to come fill you up. You're so lucky he's here, really—you look like you're struggling to get deep enough with your pathetic little fingers; he guesses it's only fair that he repay you for the material goods he's about to rob you of and pawn off on whatever sucker will buy them for cash, right?

"Right? I'll help you out—" He gives his cock a few pumps as he positions himself between your legs, "—looks like you need it, sweetheart."

You can only bite your lip to supress the moan that leaves you as he enters your cunt and lifts your fingers up and out of you by your wrist to swirl his tongue around them, lick them clean. He's huge—even your third and fourth fingers weren't enough to prepare you properly for the burglar’s dick in your needy pussy, so you let out strained combinations of gasps and screams when he starts to drill into you mercilessly. You can't help the way your ankles link behind his back, the way you reach for him—and he smiles wickedly when your eyes roll back.

"You like having a stranger's cock deep in your guts, huh?" he speaks between deep sighs and grunts. You can only babble your incoherent agreement, your laptop and wallet forgotten, the actions of this man forgotten, everything but how desperately you need to squirt all over him forgotten—you reach down and rub your clit, play with your nipples as your mouth is frozen open as you moan, moan for this man who's just broken into your home. "Uh—yeah, you're gonna like takin' all my cum, too, I bet." ⊹

⊹ SIGMA—MASSEUR HELPS HIS SEXY CLIENT RELIEVE STRESS!

"Oh, yeah—right there," you groan softly as the heel of his palm meets the center of your back. You've been looking forward to this full-body massage the whole week, and this man was not disappointing.

He works his way down your back, twisting knots out as he goes—his lithe fingers feel like heaven against you, overworked from hours at your desk hunched over your computer.

But it's a full-body massage, as mentioned before; when his fingers dig into the plush of your asscheeks, you can't help the groan that leaves you.

"That okay?" he inquires; you think you hear a shake in his voice.

"More than okay," you reply, thinking you could fall asleep as he works you into relaxation. You could close your eyes from how good it feels, or you could peek behind you and see his face burning with blush at your sounds. You do the former, but smirk a little at how sweet it is of him to check in.

He checks in again when his hands are inching your underwear down, and you tell him of course, he's the professional.

He's still the professional when he climbs up on the table behind you and buries his flushed face into your cunt. You arch up and back, crooning, as his hands stay massaging you, spreading you apart, kneading your ass with career expertise and plunging his tongue into you with enthusiasm.

"Oh! Oh—feels good," you breathe, grinding back into his face, onto his nose. He laps at you happily, this masseur you've barely looked upon for a total of twenty seconds, but you can't lie to yourself and say you didn't think he was pretty when he led you back to his room; he hums into you, sending you shivering, twitching. "Please, more."

"Mhm," he mumbles, releasing one of your asscheeks to lay back beneath you and insert a long, thin finger into your pussy; you sigh, you settle onto his face, and his tongue speeds up in this new position in a way that rips a high moan from your lungs.

Not hunched, but arched, the stretch feels heavenly on your back in combination with the way he pumps another finger into you; you graciously sit up, throwing your head back, begging, pleading for more until his tongue settles into a tight back-and-forth rhythm over your clit. "Please, please, please—"

You grind against his nose, your moans become more erratic, and you dig a hand into his hair as your hips move in dizzying circles over his head.

"Cum for me?" he asks, muffled by your pussy; you'll ride him until his face is soaked. ⊹

⊹ FYODOR DOSTOEVSKY—CONFESSING MY SINS ENDS IN HUGE CUMSHOT ALL OVER MY FACE!

“And I’ve been terribly, terribly lustful, Father Fyodor,” you say with regret. “It consumes me. I really never used to be like this."

"Temptation lurks everywhere," the priest sympathizes. You can barely see him through the grate, but his soft, forgiving voice sounds close to you. "The Devil and his army are constantly exploiting our vulnerabilities to try and turn us to sin, but worry not, child of Christ; we're human. I'm here to guide you. Continue."

You shift on the wooden seat in the booth, crossing your hands tighter over your lap. "That's really all. It's been very concerning to me. I think about it... I think about it so much."

"About what?" Father Fyodor prompts, and you bristle even more at being asked to elaborate.

"Sex," it barely comes out as more than a whisper. "I can't help it—it's everywhere. It leaves me feeling so... exhausted and frustrated, and the only thing that helps is... Well..."

But you're met with silence. You know he wants you to go on. You're here to confess, after all.

"...touching myself. I do it at least once a day. It's like a burning within me—nothing helps but—but—cumming all over my fingers." Your voice is laced with shame—the throbbing of your cunt as you talk makes you feel all the more guilty, and you can only imagine how he's shaking his head. "That's all. That's all."

"You'll do penance," he says, comfortingly. "When we bring our sins to the Lord and repent he cleanses us of them."

The grate pops out of the window, and you see the the waist of his alb as he speaks his next words.

"You'll take communion, now—" the cinctures around his waist fall undone beneath his hands, and the alb is hiked up to reveal a leaking cock, pretty and pale and bobbing in the air of the confessional. "—and be saved from the flames of perdition.”

"Yes, Father, please. Anything to be saved." But your mouth waters in a way that you know has little to do with your thirst for salvation.

"Take this; eat. This is my body," he recites the scripture as his length reaches through the window; your hands, eager and already on the threshold, accept him willingly. As you wrap your mouth around him, he groans, and it's like seraphim singing their holy, holy, holy.

"That's it—child of God, follower of Christ; I absolve you of your sins," he gasps as his tip hits the back of your throat which was begging for forgiveness moments ago. His hands reach through the window to stroke either side of your face, and then hold you in place to fuck your throat. "The Lord will forgive you for this." ⊹

౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ SAFEGUARD — dazai, chuuya, akutagawa

summary . . . they save you after you've been injured and captured by an enemy.

contents . . . sfw, f!reader (chuuya & dazai) and gn!reader (akutagawa), violence / blood, threats, injuries, hurt/comfort, angst, established relationship, and it's pmboss!dazai bc i can't help myself — 3.5k total

notes . . . i got this request so long ago lol. not my best work, but i have been in the worst writing slump ever and just wanted to finish something. i've also never written for akutagawa before so pls be nice <3

𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀 . . .

there are very few times that chuuya feels he’s been outsmarted. he knows he’s not the mastermind of the port mafia, but he certainly isn’t a fool. when it comes to you and your well-being, though, his mind short-circuits, half of his intelligence draining away while his emotions take hold. 

your relationship isn’t a secret to anyone in the port mafia, which means that it isn’t a secret to your enemies either. and while most people know it’s hard to land a finger on chuuya directly, his pretty little girlfriend doesn’t have the power of a god nestled inside of her.

the rage sparks through him, growing fiercely into the blaze of a forest fire, until all he can think of is getting you home safely. he thinks of your sweet smile as he rips the door of the enemies’ base off the hinges, crushing it into a million pieces with the force of gravity. 

the men are quick to react, but chuuya hurtles the crushed door towards them, knocking three of them to their feet. another group charges at him, but their guns do little against his skill. after years of fighting some of the strongest ability users, simple criminal organizations are as easy to step over like ants. 

chuuya kills them all — except for one.

the man’s knees are wobbling, hand shaking around the gun as he realizes that these will be his final moments. there is fear in his eyes, brown ones that rest wide open, and chuuya almost hesitates. his remorse doesn’t last long, though, before he’s wrapping a hand around the man’s throat, thrusting him backwards. 

“where is she?” chuuya asks, voice sharp and commanding. 

he can feel the man swallowing. 

chuuya knows that backup is probably on the way, but it won’t matter whether they show up or not. he’ll crush the rest of his enemies just as he’s crushed the last twenty men. the poor soul in his leather hold seems to know that as well. 

“i-i’ll take you to her,” he rasps, dropping his gun to claw at chuuya’s hand. 

he drops him, lets him take a few heaving breaths and coughs, before he’s kicking at him, forcing him back to his feet.

the young man takes him up the elevator, weaves him through a hallway as chuuya leaves a scattering of bodies in his wake, not hesitating to kill a single man that gets in his way. there is nothing that can keep him from you. 

how fiercely and loyally he loves you — it drives him to near insanity. 

finally, with blood coating his face and his clothes, the young man enters a room, locked with a code, revealing you. 

chuuya’s rage is almost as blinding as his corruption, as he gazes at the sight of you. bloodied and bruised, tied up in a chair, so visibly harmed. his hands clench into fists. “get the fuck away from her,” he says to the man who seems to be monitoring you.

“what are you doing in here?” the men left in the room panic, but they don’t have time to react before chuuya throws them back at the wall, so quickly, with so much force, that their spines snap. they hit it with a sharp crack, skulls shattering against the plaster, the wall crushing beneath the weight of them. 

limply, they fall to the floor. 

chuuya rushes over to you. 

the young man that led him here disappears, but chuuya isn’t worried about him. he’s a coward; he’ll likely flee from the country and never look back. the men that truly hurt you are already dead, and he’ll burn this building to the ground once he’s gotten you away from it. 

“hey,” chuuya says, cradling your cheeks gently, trying to coax you back awake. he’s not sure if it’s exhaustion, blood loss, or the obvious head trauma that caused you to pass out in the first place. but you’re still breathing, so he counts that as a blessing. 

“hey,” he whispers again, kissing your forehead, like it will heal all your ailments. “wake up, baby. we gotta get you out of here, okay?” 

it takes you a few seconds to come to, eyes glazed over and shell-shocked as you blink at him. “chuuya?” you say; your voice is so hoarse it makes chuuya want to keel over and vomit. “is it really you?” 

guilt gnaws at him, almost crushing, at the fact that thirty-six hours passed, and you’re delirious enough not to recognize him. you probably haven’t eaten, either. 

he should’ve been there. no one should’ve ever had the chance to hurt you, yet…

“it’s me, i’m here,” he says, kissing your lips, your temple, brushing your hair away from your face. the strands are sticky with blood. “shit,” chuuya nearly shouts, pulling a knife from his pocket, sawing through the thick ropes around you as quickly as he can. “i’m so sorry, i’m so sorry.” 

he can’t get you free fast enough, and you smile at him, drowsy, your eyes fluttering shut once more. “it’s okay, chuuya,” you say, leaning your head on his shoulder. “you’re here now.” 

“you have to stay awake,” he says desperately, realizing your head is still bleeding. he doesn’t know how hurt you are. chuuya’s no expert when it comes to medicine, but he’s smart enough to know that internal injuries could be even worse than the external ones. 

“stay awake for me, okay, honey? i’ll get you back to the boss and we’ll find you a doctor. you’ll be just fine.” 

“okay, chuuya,” you hum, weakly gripping his back. seconds of silence pass before you mutter, “i just want to go home.” 

"i know." his heart pulls, and he almost lets out a cracked sob. but he refrains, knowing that there is plenty of time to drown in his sorrows later. 

finally, he gets the ropes under, lifting you from the chair. you’re so much lighter, weaker, and it makes him sick as he carries you. “let’s get you home.” 

𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐖𝐀. . .

the call comes just as akutagawa is getting ready to head home for the evening, his tasks completed, eyes heavy with exhaustion. 

normally, he doesn’t stick around to say any goodbyes, sneaking off into the darkness of the night like a shadow, blending right in. but, something about the evening, so gloomy and drizzly with spring rain, feels off. 

with a heavy knot in his chest, so much different than an incoming fit of coughs, akutagawa heads back up to mori’s office, if perhaps to only ensure that everyone else’s jobs had been completed. he’s a lot of things, but he’s never been a slacker; and he’ll do what it takes to ensure that his position in the mafia is eternally secure.

though, he doesn’t have the opportunity to get all the way upstairs before he run into the boss, who is calm, but with an air of irritation clouding him. 

he explains the current situation to akutagawa in a clipped tone, bored — an enemy group has kidnapped you, holding you hostage. 

“how rude is it to bother a man, just as he is getting ready to go to sleep?” mori says, sighing histrionically.

but what is a minor inconvenience to mori sends an entire wave of dread through akutagawa, his entire body feeling as if it’s been dipped in ice. he can’t explain the horror that washes over him, not really, because he shouldn’t feel so panicked. it is rare for him to get worked up about the danger his subordinates find themselves in, save for his sister, of course. 

but you… you’re different. 

“can i trust you to diffuse the situation?” mori asks, impatiently glancing at his watch as if that will change anything. “i can call someone else, but they will not be so quick.” 

akutagawa doesn’t even think before he accepts the job, hating the way he sounds pathetically desperate for more details. his hands flatten the edge of his cloak, as if his ability is going to take on a mind of its own. 

he calls for a driver, calm but breathing so heavily that an aching cough rises up in him. his throat feels as if it may begin to bleed, but he swallows, glances away from the driver and gets himself under control.

there’s a ransom — bring them the money and they’ll return you, mori had told him. you’re only a lower ranking member of the mafia, and someone that makes for a pretty poor bargaining chip, so the motive is questionable. 

mori probably would’ve let you die, akutagawa knows, his teeth gritting together, so much so that a splintering sound comes from it. but the boss, in his infinite, concerning wisdom, seems to also know that his loyal dog has an soft spot for you. 

as regrettable as that may be.

akutagawa has no doubt that whoever the enemy is, they are no match for him. still, a twinge of anxiety settles in his stomach, fingers jittery as the driver, despite the decreased traffic of the hour, seems to drive impossibly slow. 

“are we not in a rush?” akutagawa snaps, leaning forward.

“apologies,” the driver, says, not daring to even look at akutagawa from the mirror. but the car speeds up, enough for akutagawa to be able to notice, at least. it cools the simmer that has already begun deep in his chest.  

even so, the car seems to go at a snails pace, minute upon minute flying by, with you in the clutches of an enemy. 

akutagawa doesn’t care who they are. he doesn’t care why, or how they captured you. he wants them dead. he’ll rip them apart, easily, and he’ll make them suffer — they’ll be alive for all of it, for every second that he peels the skin from their bones, ripping the smaller ones out of their sockets. 

what he feels for you… well, it’s too hard for him to admit to himself. he has no experience with what it means to care for another person, doesn’t even know if that’s his goal. he just knows he wants to protect you.

and he can’t do that if you’re dead.

finally, the car pulls up to an old warehouse, one at the very outskirts of the port, beyond the docks and the shipping carts. it’s tucked far back, an obvious lair for some villainous organization that doesn’t want to be found. 

akutagawa gets there, but there is nothing. he hears nothing, feels no signs of life as he trudges through the puddles left behind from the earlier rain. 

a small string of panic begins again, as he wondered if maybe the call that mori had told him was only a ruse. maybe this entire time had been a distraction, a way to lure him away. there are other skill-users in the mafia, but none quite as dangerous as him. 

though, he hears it, then. a small little sound, muffled and hoarse, full of pain. 

he ducks into another corner of a warehouse, and you’re there — bound with chains and a gag across your mouth, one of your eyes blackened with bruises, your nose bleeding. 

his heart aches. never in his life has he so quickly made his way over, used the sharp edges of his ability to shear through the chains, falling to his knees as he unbinds the cloth from your lips. 

“where are they?” he rasps, mouth opening and closing, hating the sound of his own voice. he recognizes his desperation, his anger, but the affectionate sound that clips at the end is unfamiliar, as he shakily pulls himself closer to you. 

you glance up at him, eyes glossy and wide, and though you are scared, hurt, he’s so thankful you are alive. his heart flips once, as you grasp at his cloak, the material that has the blood of so many staining the threads. 

“gone,” you say, throat chalky, words nothing more than a note against the wind. “they fled when they heard it was you coming.” 

“and left you?” he asks, jaw clenching, as he hopes that the emotions aren’t as visible on his features as he thinks they are. “were you not a ransom?” 

“no,” you swallow, hard, as if in pain. he notices bruises around your neck, the shape of fingerprints indented there. “i was bait.”

anger rises up in him like a wave, engulfing him, wholly and relentlessly. he is no stranger to that, like he is the kindness you show him, the way you look at him as if he is your protector, rather than a bringer of destruction. “i’ll go after them. where are they headed? they’ll pay, i’ll slaughter—”

“ryunosuke,” you say, reaching for him as he stands, expression pleading as he backs away. “stay.” 

he has half a mind to ignore you — the enemy escaped, after all. but your voice. your eyes… you look so small sitting there, bloodied and bruised and broken. 

“please,” you try again, near tears, and though he has never been good with obvious displays of emotion, something within him snaps at the desperation in the word. 

he nods, slowing his pace as he returns to you, lets you wrap yourself in him, cling to him. his hands fall, naturally, to your waist, somehow knowing where they belong, even if akutagawa never has a clue what he’s doing with you. 

“i’ll call hirotsu,” he says simply, before pulling out his phone, not bothering to untangle himself from you. 

𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈 . . .

dazai is not a forgiving man, and will never learn to be. forgiveness is not a luxury he is often able to indulge in in his line of work, and his heart has hardened enough that until the end of time, those that are branded his enemies will remain his enemies. 

though, in his blackened heart, one soured over the course of time, you have carved out your own little space, lit it up with golden rays of light that are fiery enough to melt the stone casing of his chest. 

his only love — his only weakness. but it is a weakness that his enemies know about as well. 

dazai tries his best to keep you safe. he always has, and he knows that, sometimes, his grasp on you can be a little too tight. that the way he tries to keep you under his watchful eye can sometimes be stifling, frustrating. 

but he can’t always be there to protect you. and it is in times like these, that he regrets letting you go without a bodyguard. he regrets that he listened to your insistence that you could keep yourself safe. 

he should’ve at least told you to take a friend. 

“boss,” his subordinate says, bowing his head, his voice pleading, desperate. “i’m so sorry. your wife—”

“if anything… anything happens to her, you will be the one responsible, do you understand?” dazai says, his eyes cold as he glowers down at the man, only a few inches shorter than him, but feeling so much smaller. “i will personally see that this act does not go unpunished.” 

“of course, sir,” the man says, and he, at the very least, has the decency to sound resigned. to accept his fate and suffer the consequences, for allowing the boss’s wife to get herself into such a situation. 

and dazai means it, every last word; if he finds you in a state closer to death, anyone who put you in harm’s way will be torn apart from the inside out. he isn’t able to think of anything but bringing you home safely, his hands shaking with rage as he sends more than enough people out on a search to find you. 

with all the strings he’s able to pull as the mafia boss, it doesn’t take long to find you, for those that have bravely — or stupidly — used his wife as bait to come forward, and offer an attempt at some sort of negotiation. 

there’s little of the conversation that dazai remembers on the phone, even less that he remembers after that. the anger bubbles up in him and grabs hold of his conscience, the emotion directing his movements with a mind of its own. 

he’s already sent out every last one of his people into the field, ensuring that the organization that had the gall to threaten you is wiped off the face of the earth. deleted from every corner of the world, buildings flattened to the ground. by tomorrow, they won’t have ever existed. 

today, he doesn’t care what happens as long as he finds you alive. 

you’re held hostage by two men — so completely beaten that they’ve given up on any restraints. whatever they wanted from you, you seemed to refused to have given up, lip bleeding, eyes swelling so badly that you can’t even open them. 

dazai doesn’t hesitate before pulling the trigger on the first man, then turning to the other, shooting the hand that holds the pistol. the man recoils, shouts, and drops the weapon completely, as dazai lands another bullet to his knee, causing him to fall. 

slowly, dazai walks up, firing again to his other arm, a loud snap echoing throughout the room. the man winces, trying to crawl to the gun, one last desperate attempt to stay alive. 

he kicks the gun away, watching, as, pathetically, the expression in the enemy’s face changes — any of his remaining hope vanishes. 

“you told me she was unharmed,” dazai says, bending down, his coat flaring out behind him as he squats. 

the man coughs, gasping for air as the blood seeps out of him. “we lied.” he smiles cruelly, and though he shares the same sort of darkness as those in the port mafia, there is something even more twisted in his smile. 

dazai hums. “you the leader?” 

the man doesn’t give an answer, but the slight twitch of surprise on his face is all dazai needs. he’s no one — just a grunt whose life was put on the line to guard you. 

“didn’t think so.” dazai shoots him once, straight through the forehead, instantly killing him. but he is vindictive, angry, and the man he truly wants to destroy, the one who took you, is nowhere to be found. another bullet lands, tearing apart the flesh of his temple, then another, and one more, his skull beginning to cave in from the force of it all. 

dazai heaves, letting the gun clatter to the ground as it runs out of bullets, and then he realizes, all this time, you’ve just been watching him. the ugliest side of him — the worst side of him. 

you’re no stranger to it, of course. how can you be, when you’ve shared a life with him for years? but that doesn’t mean he wants you to see it, see how bloodthirsty he can become. 

he stumbles over to you, where you’re still sitting on the ground, your wrist in your lap, bent at an angle that he knows isn’t right. bruises are littered across your skin, and your hair is matted from the blood that pools at your temple. 

it takes every ounce of restraint he has to stay calm, a million feelings swirling under his skin. ones that he was never familiar with until he met you. 

“i’m sorry,” he says, taking your face in his hands so, so softly, worried that he’ll hurt you even more. “i’m sorry, darling. i should’ve — i should’ve been there.” dazai notices his hands are shaking and he balls them up into fists, leaning back. “fuck. fuck — i’ll kill them all, just tell me who it was. anyone who laid a finger on you. i’ll cut them down one by one.” 

“osamu,” you say, and your voice is raspy, cracking, as your unbroken arm reaches for him, squeezing his shaking hand. “i—”

you open your mouth to continue, but only tears come streaming down your cheeks, over your bloodied lips, saltiness soaking your jawline. no words don’t leave you, but a soft sob chokes itself up your throat.

“hey, hey, hey.” dazai’s voice softens, every muscle in his body relaxing as he draws you nearer to him, into his chest with a touch that’s barely there. “you’re safe. i’m here, okay? they’re not going to hurt you again, sweetheart.” 

you sniffle, barely making a sound, but he can feel the tears drop onto his clothes, soaking the material.

“can you walk? are you hurt anywhere else?” 

you hesitate for a moment before answering; he’s not sure if there’s a reason you only answer the first question. “i can walk.” 

dazai nods, and though the rage is still bubbling there, underneath the surface, there is a coolant streaming through him at the vision of you alive. the men who did this will pay the price, but he still has you — and that’s all that matters.

thank you for reading !!! ❤︎

𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭...

𝐃𝐚𝐳𝐚𝐢 who has his eye on you the moment he sees you lounging on the plushy high chairs at Lupin bar, wine glass resting in the palm of your hand.

𝐃𝐚𝐳𝐚𝐢 who notices the way you look at him with those bedroom eyes, a sweet temptation daring him to make a move on you

𝐃𝐚𝐳𝐚𝐢 who doesn't waste a moment to chat you up Beautiful ladies are my weakness, 'donna. How am I supposed to resist your charms?, who buys you drink after drink until you're both woozy.

𝐃𝐚𝐳𝐚𝐢 who takes you back to his place, who lets you push him down on the couch and looks down at you down at you with sultry eyes as you kneel in front of him, pushing his thighs apart.

𝐃𝐚𝐳𝐚𝐢 who can barely contain a choked moan when you pull down his fly, taking his cock out of his slacks and running your thumb over his leaking tip ~You're such a needy boy aren't you, Osamu? you coo and he nods, bucking his hips up in your fist

𝐃𝐚𝐳𝐚𝐢 who's too lost in pleasure to keep himself in check, who lets out the most erotic moans, who laces his shaky fingers in your hair guiding your head towards his cock Please 'donna want your pretty little mouth around me~ Aah fuck...

𝐃𝐚𝐳𝐚𝐢 who almost cums when you wrap your lips around his tip, twirling your tongue around it to gather his pre, looking up at him with innocent, lust filled eyes

𝐃𝐚𝐳𝐚𝐢 who forces your head down his cock, smirking upon hearing you gag and seeing your mascara running down your cheeks. it feels like you put on that pretty makeup just for him to completely ruin it, to ruin you

𝐃𝐚𝐳𝐚𝐢 who bucks his hips into your mouth, begging you to let him cum, who waits for you to squeeze his thigh reassuringly before spilling his creamy load down your throat, breathing heavily. the grip on your hair loosens and he softly caresses your hair Thank you, thank you, thank you 'donna, my pretty 'donna~

// inspired by a very yummy ask♡♡

LOVERS VICTIM ☾

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

no response.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“aww,” he cooes, making you laugh at his teasing. he was cute. “i can give you lessons,” your brow quirks, slightly interested. “I’m a great teacher, I help kids on the weekends.”

“that’s too convenient,” you brush him off jokingly, the guy immediately infatuated with your attention.

it didn’t take long for satoru to notice you. especially when he was also one of the volunteers. not by coincidence of course. what he wanted was to get on your nerves some more, but instead he’s watching every single guy throw themselves at you. but it was too convenient, especially with how some volunteers were snickering at you.

as the stands began to fill up, the more swimmers lined the pool. you were immediately eaten up by them, as you moved up on the stand. you were announcing the swimmers. but something was off.

bitch is getting what she deserves. cant wait to see the look on her face. she dressed all nice in that slutty outfit! satoru felt his blood run cold, eyes scanning to find the guys from earlier, fake wrestling by the stands loose base.

I don’t know if this is such a good idea. I heard she can’t swim. that’s exactly why! needs to learn a lesson about humility.

“what did you say!” satoru’s voice startled the group as they turned to face the man. his eyes were dark, veins bulging out of his white tee. he didn’t have time to get angry, until he was looking up at the loud gasp from the audience. your body already plunged in the water, too far from the edge to reach.

“shit!” his blood was boiling as he watched the swimmers just stare around the pool, struggling to push past the bodies before diving in the water. how fucking deep is this pool?! his hands grabbed your flailing body, pulling you to the surface.

“y/n!” you were coughing up the water, body shaking as you held onto him desperately. “fuck.”

“f-fucking asshole,” you cough, body struggling to get away from him, only for his grip to slip as you sink back into the water unexpectedly.

“don’t struggle, shit! just hold on!” he yells at you, as you cough some more, now holding him too tightly. “you’re gonna strangle me.” he jokes, but it’s received only by the trembling of your body. his hand pressed on your back, unconsciously soothing your body as he swam to the edge. his arm was tight around your body as he had you hold onto the edge as he lifted his body up.

the audience members gasping and whispering to each other as satoru’s white shirt easily showcased his sculpted body, his hand pushing his beautiful white hair back as he kneeled by the edge, pants tight around his crotch as his arms flexed pulling you up.

too say the girls were livid was an understatement. they were fucking seething when satoru gojo carried the girl instead of having her walk! her body curling in his arms from embarrassment and shame as she hid her face. he kept a deadly stare ahead, silencing anyone that even dared to look, having every single one of them cowering at his gaze. his aura too powerful for them to even breathe, almost choking on it. the biggest player in the university was a terrifying sight to see angry.

he hadn’t realized you were crying until he heard the quiet sniffles when he’d reached the empty locker room. your body was quivering in his arms, you hadn’t said a word to him, not even struggling in his hold as he sat down on the bench, his own head falling back, looking up at the ceiling.

his lips parted, stare blankly. but his grip only tightened around you.

what am I doing. he couldn’t make sense of his own actions. his emotions were a mess, anger, jealousy… he couldn’t bring himself to admit it. it was too disgusting. he hated himself for feeling this way.

“i hate you,” your fist squeezed his wet shirt. you were embarrassed, humiliated, and so fucking angry. this happened because of him. it’s his fault!

“i think you should be thanking me,” he snarks back, still not daring himself to look down at you.

“thanking—“ your blood was boiling. “thanking you? for what exactly?! for making everyone hate me? for embarrassing me—“

“for saving your life, for starters,” his eyes try to remain up, the water still trickling from is wet hair cascading down the column of his neck, his skin glistening as his chest rose and fell with each passing breath. your eyes followed the tight clothes that stuck perfectly as you saw his jaw clench. “and it’s not my fucking problem that you don’t have any friends.”

your breath hitched, and he caught it. his eyes betraying him, cursing himself when his heart stopped. the glossy eyes held in so much rage and hate, and the pinch in your eyebrows, the embarrassing tremble of your lip, fuck he wanted to bite them.

“i can’t even talk to you like a normal person,” you mutter, body moving on your own, as you try to get up. you couldn’t believe him, after everything that happened, could he not see your side? you’re not playing the victim, you could careless if everyone just ignored you, but this crossed a line. being invisible is better than being targeted. at least then people can’t say you’re doing it for attention—

“where’re you going,” he couldn’t loosen his grip. he didn’t want too. he was too used to your body heat. the weight on his lap—

“let go of me, I’m done with your stupid games. It’s not funny anymore,” now you’re struggling, squirming to pull his arms away, but it was hard. it was hard because why was he looking at you like that? why did his eyes pull you in? “senpai—“

“you think I wanted this to happen to you?” he snaps, blood boiling.

“yes! it’s even more humiliating that you had to save me!” the frustrations and insecurities that you had control of, was suddenly starting to boil over. all because of this asshole—

“so you wanted me to do nothing?”

“just leave me alone,” your throat is tight, don’t cry don’t cry dontcrydontcrydontcry

“and if I say no?” you couldn’t breathe, the proximity, suffocating.

“i don’t care, just stop it!” you’re now forcefully trying to get off, only to wince when his grip tightens. “senpai—let go—“

he moved too quick for your mind to comprehend, his lips crashing onto yours. the wind completely knocked out of you. his grip around your waist was burning, the other hand held your jaw as you whined in his mouth. his tongue was so warm and wet as it easily pushed into your lips, before you shoved him back.

“what the fuck?!” fuck…the tears slipped. “what’s wrong with you?!”

“i don’t know,” his jaw clenched. eyes shamefully looking away as he cursed again. “I couldn’t help myself—“

“what do you want from me?” satoru could feel your chest beating against his. your breath fanning still short of breath.

“I don’t know,” his voice much lower now, sending an unexpected feeling right down to your core. his eyes stilling on yours, thumb gently caressing your damp face, wiping the slow humiliating tears that seemed to escape one after the other.

you couldn’t properly think. you want to make sense of this. you did. but what is there to make sense of? everything in life is confusing, but this was someone who’s bothered you endlessly for two fucking semesters. it was exhausting—

he kisses you again.

you whine again.

you push him back again. your eyes are downcast, out of breath once again. his lips were so wet, yours were so soft. his hand was rubbing your side, soothing you. his eyes felt too real….too genuine.

he comes closer, the proximity had your lips just grazing one another, his breath taking in your own as his thumb gently eased your nerves as you felt it rub your jaw, holding the side of your face.

your lips pushed forward, and that’s all he needed. your lips moved in complete sync, as if you both knew the others body. your moans flowed in hushed whines as he felt up your body, groaning as you rolled your hips slowly, circling the growing bulge that was easily visible through his wet clothes.

“gonna make me loose control, princess,” he groans, grabbing your ass, adam apple bobbing as his hips jerk, pressing you down firmly.

“didn’t take much,” you reply, cheeks blushing as you earned a chuckle from the white haired man, only for your breath to hitch as he lifted you in the air. your arms immediately falling on his shoulders as he sat you on the bench in his place and dropped to his knees.

“let’s see this fucking pussy, I know you’re soaked,” he easily tossed your wet shorts off, which only seemed to be a bit of struggle. but it was well worth it when he pushed your legs apart, eyes immediately falling onto your drenched strawberry panties that hugged your pussy lips. “shiit, i can fucking see right through,” he laughs, thumb rubbing through your clothed folds making you bite down a whine.

“keepin yourself quiet?” his eyes flick up.

your cheeks feel hot, eyes stuck waiting for his next move that you only gave him a silent pout, as if you weren’t shutting yourself up.

“you look so cute in these,” he grins, pressing his face between your legs, kissing your clothed pussy.

“stop teasing,” you blush, as his eyes look up at you, smiling as he rubbed his face, he couldn’t help his cock from growing. his thick fingers skillfully pulling your sticky wet panties to the side as he took his tongue and licked up, up, before kissing your clit between his lips.

“ahhhhh, fuuh uhck,” your lips quivered as you reached for something—

“mmm, pull my hair,” satoru guided your other hand to hold his hair tighter, your hips were bucking as he absolutely devoured your leaking hole. “good fucking pussy,” he pulls back spreading your legs ever further as his thumbs pulled your slippery folds apart, getting a nice clear view of your pretty pussy. it was absolutely drenched stupid, your chest heaving as he soothed a hand on your tummy as his thumb rubbed circles on your cute little bud.

“your mouth—mmfh uhahh ah senpai—“ your head was thrown back, holding his hair.

“you’re so cute,” he groans, flicking your clit so fucking teasingly as you moaned over and over. edging you on and on. your eyes were seeing stars as you cried for more, just to feel warmth spread inside as he let a glob of spit fall on your cunt. trickling down inside your pussy, some sliding down to your ass.

“so pretty when you’re making a mess,” he murmurs, lips brushing your puffy wet folds, your heart beating in anticipation, as you felt his warm breath fan against you. his lips parted as he took a kitten licks, your fingers tangling in his white hair as he hummed. “taste so sweet,” he groans form the back of his throat, tongue making out with your lips before slipping inside your hole, the feeling had your whines echoing.

he was so fucking drunk. your taste, scent, he couldn’t help himself. his eyes shut as he coaxed another orgasm, your eyes falling shut as you pulled at his hair. his face moving back and forth, pulling you closer and closer, until you came with a muffled moan. your arm over your mouth.

“can’t stop tasting you,” his pants like a dog, tongue hanging out as he watches your pussy spasm. “more, princess,” he whines licking up your generous cream, sucking every thing, until he pulls away, middle and ring finger gliding inside, your tight walls, squelching at the intrusion. some more juices trickled down his fingers as he hums. “you’re so nice, giving me so much.”

“sen…pai,” the broken whine, sent his mind off. everything about your moans and body was just so fucking perfect.

“might cum from how good you taste?“ he kisses your swollen nub, “tell me how good yer feelin….cmon baby,” his free hand gave your inner thigh a tight squeeze as his fingers splayed. your hips bucking as your hand stroked his hair, eyes rolling back as he pumped his fingers inside you.

“you’re uh…so good,” your voice strained, orgasm coming on faster than before. he was not giving you a single break, his fingers curling up pressing against your sweet spot, lips sucking desperately on your swollen bud. you were so close—

“I was not expecting them to pull that shit. that was too far—“ the voices coming from the entrance immediately had your body jerking up.

“mmfh…w-wait—“ you were desperately trying to push his pretty face away, but he only went faster. his cheeks flushed pink as an unexpected moan came from the back of his throat. it looked like he was enjoying this more than you, he was glad that his pants were already soaked, so you couldn’t see his cum spraying in his tight pants. your hand went over your mouth trying to conceal the orgasm the ripped through you.

“stay quiet,” his lips were suddenly on yours, you couldn’t even think properly as his body lifted yours. your arms wrapped around his shoulders, allowing him to take you away.

don’t ask how things like this happen, because honestly even if you try to follow it linearly, you’ll still be stunned how you could’ve ended up on satoru gojo’s bed. your wet clothes were discarded on the ground as his fingers pulled at your nipples.

“you’re soaking the sheets, mmm…ya like it that much?” he sucked bruises on your hips and inner thighs. his face smeared with your juices, too addicted to the taste, he had to dive for seconds.

“senpai,” your sweet voice was like honey, it was too easy for his body to move on your command. automatically catching your lips in a deep kiss. he tasted like you, but his hands were pushing your legs up, pumping his heavy cock, his tip swollen, aching for you.

“is this your first?” his tongue played with yours, his cheeks flushing at the thought of taking away your first. his pre-cum oozing down on your puffy folds at being the first to go inside you.

“you’re not that special,” you slur, mind blessed out as your hands stroked his flushed cheeks. his brows pinched together pulling away to look at you. he had to contain himself, your pretty lips smeared with his spit, eyes blessed out from the amount of times you’ve cum just by his lips and fingers, you looked stunning.

“who fucked you?” his blood suddenly boiling as your thumb gently played with his swollen lips. his eyes half lidded with a sudden coat of dark blue as you answered.

“kento-kun,” you were a bit glad for this small break so you could catch your breath, pretty tits pushing up as you took deep breaths. “he was a lab partner in first year—“

“nanami?” his jaw clenched. he vaguely remembered the blonde. “you let him fuck you?”

“I’m letting you fuck me,” your hands are glued to him, unable to rip them away as they continue to caress and feel his naturally soft skin. “you still wanna fuck me, right?” you’re leaning up, lips grazing his, you were didn’t want admit how much you wanted him right now. his cheeks, chin and lip all coated in your juices—

“you some whore now?” his cold stare sent shivers down your spine as you suddenly felt your stomach churn in disgust.

“says you,” you suddenly realize who you’re with right now. “whatever,” you push him to the side, body sliding to get off the bed. what were you thinking—

“wait, wait!”

his arms tightly wrap around you, stopping you as he buries his face in your neck.

“I’m sorry…. don’t leave,” his voice was soft, a bit shaky, as he kissed your shoulder, neck, pulling you into his firm chest as you gave in again.

“do you hate me?” your words felt like knives. his movements freezing.

“I don’t hate you,” he turns your face so he can see your eyes, his hand was warm on your jaw.

“then why’re you such a dick all the fucking time?” your throat felt dry.

“I don’t know,” he dropped his head. “I can’t explain it,” his lips pressed onto yours. “i need you,” he mutters. “all the time,” he’s practically whining into your lips as you turn over, laying him down, legs straddling his waist as you rocked your hips, pussy leaking on his cock. “i can’t leave you alone,” he pants, holding your face as his eyes flutter seeing your pretty face above him. “i can’t think when I see you.”

“you in love with me or something?” you tease.

silence…

you pull away. what’s going on? your stomach churned at the flustered expression on the man’s face. his eyes glossed over, and his face bright pink. his lips parted—

“d-don’t answer that!” what the fuck?!

you weren’t thinking straight! so you pushed everything back and kissed him, your hips moving up as you swiped at his flushed tip, his body shuddering at your small hands picking up his hefty girth.

“you’re pretty sensitive,” you comment, his blue eyes look over at you with an embarrassed scowl.

“let’s see you take it,” an arm goes behind his head as the other rubbed at your hip, smirking as you lifted your hips, pressing his tip to your entrance. he had to contain his own moan as you slowly sank down on. your eyes unconsciously fluttered, you barely have experience, you were faking this whole shit. you’ve never been on top before!

his eyes flicked up to your pinched expression as you slowly struggled to take his tip. your juices squelching down his cock to his trimmed base as your body shuddered.

“need help?” satoru leans up, grabbing at your sides, as he kissed your neck, he wasn’t that mean…

“I can do it,” you stubbornly huff. cheeks flushed as your nails dig into his shoulders.

“it’s okay if ya need my help, I won’t tease you, princess,” he says with a wide grin, his ego easily going through the roof as he watched your body struggle. “I’m bigger than most—“

“it’s just…” you’re already out of breath, sweat trickling down your temple as you struggled. “been awhile.” you clamp around him unexpectedly.

“shit—might cum just from your dirty pussy squeezing me,” his hips buck on instinct, earning a strangled moan to escape your lips. “fuckk,” satoru throws his head back, abs clenching as his legs trembled, suddenly wrapped his arms under your thighs grabbing your ass, biceps flexing as his abs tightened, easily lifting your body up as his tip spurted excessive amounts of cum, littering your pussy lips and falling to his pelvis.

“did you just…cum?” you’re holding his shoulder as satoru trembled underneath you. a bit out of breath, he can’t remember the last time he’s came so fast.

“shut up,” his jaw clenched as he slams your hips down, your eyes bulging out as your pussy swallowed his entire pulsing cock, feeling his cum trickle out.

“ahh! uh making me feel good,” you’re an absolute mess. his cock thrusting up at an unrelenting pace as he holds your body.

“fuck, you’re taking me so well, uh so deep inside ya—“ satoru was a babbling mess as he fucked up your tight pussy. your tits were bouncing so beautifully, he couldn’t help but latch his lips around your nipple to contain his whines. suckling on the erect bud as you whined.

“ahh, it’s so deep!” you’re eyes were rolling back as you clamped down, legs trembling as you felt a wave rush over you.

“oh.”

you’re panting, eyes half lidded as satoru manhandled your body to rest on the bed, as he moved over you.

“i think this cute pussy loves feeding me,” his voice was low, your fingers lazily petting his cheek, “now don’t give up on me, pretty,” he kissed your shoulder as his hand pumped his still very erect dick. “i still have a bit to go.” you felt him kiss your cheek as he turned you a bit more until you were on your tummy. his hand sliding down your back. “lift that pretty ass for me.”

“this…good?” you couldn’t think straight, as your back arched, pushing your ass up, giving it a cute shake as your pussy hole squeezes some more juices out, satoru bit his lip, groaning from the back of his throat at the image of your twitching hole.

“you’re so nice, baby,” he cooes, rubbing his fingers in your wet folds, as if he was petting you for listening to him. and you ate it up, whining as you pressed into him. “fuck, you’re so needy.”

your hips jerked at the harsh slap to your pussy, a whine coming out as you received another one. your nub was big and swollen and you couldn’t stop your juices from sliding down your thighs. even so, satoru was hypnotized.

“i think I might cum, just from seeing how much fun yer havin,” he bites his lip as he watches your tongue hang out, still obeying him as you kept your back arched and pussy and hole on full display. he could see everything.

“i wanna join the fun, cutie,” his cock felt unbelievably heavy, already knowing the build up inside his swollen length. “good girl,” he sighs rubbing his length in your juices again, slapping his tip on your oversensitive clit.

“good….fucking girl,” his moan was so loud as he slid back inside your pussy. your eyes roll back as you clawed at the sheets. why did he feel bigger! you couldn’t think anymore, cheeks bursting with heat as his hand grab at your hips pulling out, squelching oozing into your ear drums as he slammed back it, filling you to the brim.

“I’m so deep… mmh..kissing your womb,” satoru leans over your body, fucking you faster now. you were a crying mess.

“se…..sen…”

“can’t understand you, princess,” his arm wraps around you, lifting your body up, as he turns your face. “shit.” his abs clench at the fucked out look in your face.

“please….call me….ah y/n,” tears and drool stained your face as he held your jaw, cock pulsing inside you as a grin took over his flushed face.

“why?” he kisses your ear, licking at the lobe as his other hand pinched your sensitive nipples, making you squirm and clench around him. he suddenly grabs your hips, and snaps into you again, and again. “you just want to have sex so we can play lovers? is that it?” his jaw clenched as his blood was boiling. “letting your bully fuck your stupid pussy?” your moans were so loud he was desperate not to bust a load right now.

“do you even like me?” his body laid over yours, turning your jaw again to see your flushed face, tongue hanging as you whined.

“se..pai….”

“my name isn’t….senpai, now is it?” his jaw clenched, biting your shoulder as you cried.

“so….sorrryy!” you were a babbling mess, so fucking stupid you could barely think. yet…

“my name isn’t sorry either,” he doesn’t stop his pace, still fucking your squelching hole, pressing down on the bulge in your tummy making your back arch, tears bursting as your head fell on his shoulder.

“pretty y/nn… you’re already mine aren’t you?” his tongue played with yours as you moaned at the sound of your name on his lips. “can’t speak anymore?” he laughs feeling your pussy reply to his words. “it’s okay….I’ll take care of your dumb little head,” his own body is loosing control. his balls tighten as you held his arms, feeling one wrapped in front of your shoulder as the other held your head, in a headlock.

“shittt, you’re fucking….”

“cu…cummi—ahh!” was the only warning you gave as you creamed around him with a high pitched moan, your body was shaking as you gushed. satoru pressed his face to your head as he continued giving sloppy thrusts.

“fu-fucckk,” his body shook as he felt the first spurts of his cum squirt inside you.

your nails dug into his forearms as you looked over your shoulder. he felt his heart skip a beat, cock busting as you smiled…

“please…keep cumming inside me.” your tongue hanging out, eyes clouded over.

“mmfhh….damn you!” satoru cursed, turning you over. pushing your leg up. “you’re just too…cute!” his jaw clenched as his eyes rolled back, leaning over your body as he suddenly sank even deeper inside, a choked moan came from his chest.

“ahhh toru!” that was his final straw. the sound of your voice screaming his name immediately had his hefty cock, squirting creams of thick white cum inside you.

“shit y/n…s-say my name again—“ he’s practically whimpering; panting, body shuddering as he still manages to move inside you as he pushes more cum even deeper.

“toru…feels good…you’re so good, so good,” you’re hugging his head as he groans, thrusts so sloppy, as you bite your hand from how sensitive you’re feeling.

“give me all of it, toru,” you slur, eyes foggy as he whines, kissing you, but it was more like drooling in your mouth because his head was no longer there, he couldn’t stop cumming.

his tongue was hanging out as his big hand pressed down on your tummy, surging more cum to shot inside you.

“you’re uh…making me stupid,” he shudders as he sees your tummy swelling. he twitches as he carefully begins to pull out. “think you broke my dick.”

“toru…” his eyes glance up. “satoru?” it was like instinct, immediately leaning down for you to cup his flushed cheeks, leaning into your touch as you smile.

“what is it?” he whispers, heart beating fast as you continue to caress his cheeks.

“why do you need me?” the question catches him off guard. he swallows thickly, struggling to maintain eye contact. “answer me.”

“I’m…” scared? he can’t excuse the shit he made you feel before, the consequences for his own actions, he was a real piece of shit. and for what? all because he— “I’m jealous when you’re not with me.”

you’re silent, his eyes darting, trying to avoid your eyes, as he mumbles in shame. “i don’t like it when you talk to other people, or when you’re….” he stops himself. “im fucking shit.”

“you are,” you maintain your stern tone as you see something crack behind his eyes. “so tell me why.”

what did you want him to say? he didn’t want to fuck this up! he finally has you! after so long…he can’t loose you now!

“i…i was upset you rejected me,” he mumbles, cheek flaring. “but after that I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

“that’s kinda fucked up,” your hands still brush his cheek, pushing back the loose white strands that were stuck to his forehead. he bites his cheek.

“not that surprising, I’ve always been a piece of shit,” he shrugs, rolling his eyes. his heart suddenly skips a beat, looking back once he heard you laugh. his own lips curling into a smile.

“god you’re something else,” you can’t stop laughing, pulling him to your lips. “is this when you suddenly change for the better?” you mumble.

he smirks against your lips, “who knows? i did get what I wished for.”

istg this was supposed to be a quick little drabble but ig that’s impossible for me :p

i miss his annoying ass

Couple of the Year: In the End, Love Overpowers Fame.

As the years passed, Katsuki's fame grew steadily. His name quickly became known in the charts, and despite not being the number-one Hero, his contributions were never overlooked. You, too, had your share of fame as an ever-rising supermodel. Despite the massive recognition both of you received, your private lives remained untouched.

"DYNAMIGHT!"

"DYNAMIGHT! OVER HERE!"

"ONE QUESTION, DYNAMIGHT! JUST ONE INTERVIEW!"

The Met Gala was always a spectacle, and every year, the crowd of paparazzi seemed to grow larger and more relentless.

"You know, with all your fame, I can't help but wonder when you're finally going to fall and fail."

Katsuki’s posture didn’t change, but his eyes shifted to the source of the voice. His anger flared at the sight of the man standing next to him, grinning smugly at the cameras. Yoshiki Kenai was tall, brunette, with perfect teeth and an annoying level of confidence.

He worked in the same modeling industry as you, and ever since you’d entered the scene, he’d made it his personal mission to flirt with you at every opportunity. Fortunately, this year, his advances were more restrained.

"I question your logic, Bakugou. Should you really be settling down so quickly when your job is so risky? It's a selfish decision, really. Your fame is honestly undeserved, a selfish wannabe hero is all you are." Yoshiki now turned his head toward Katsuki, his smirk widening as he awaited a response.

Katsuki knew his job was dangerous. Every mission carried a risk. But for Yoshiki—of all people—to lecture him? His blood boiled as he fixed the man with a scowl.

"What about you? Do you hear the crowd? You’ve got a lot of confidence for someone who’ll never gain recognition unless your in my presence. The people need me. I can't be replaced. You, on the other hand, can be." Katsuki spat his words through gritted teeth, his face twisted with anger. Despite his fury, his posture remained casual, hands tucked into his pants, stance relaxed.

Yoshiki’s smirk faltered, and his face reddened in a mixture of anger and embarrassment. Before he could fire back, Katsuki continued, his expression now calmer, though his voice still held a trace of irritation.

"At least you're smart enough to talk to me in front of the cameras. You know damn well that if you said this anywhere else, your ass would already be halfway across the world."

Katsuki turned his gaze back to the paparazzi, scanning the crowd slowly as he continued speaking.

"Smile bright, Kenai. Take advantage of this privilege. Maybe then you'll get some recognition just from being seen with me."

Yoshiki quickly walked off, his forced smile back in place, but his posture was stiff, and his cheeks were still burning with embarrassment.

"That was interesting," Kirishima said, appearing beside Katsuki, his expression a mix of amusement and mild concern. "Wonder how the paparazzi will spin this little interaction."

"Who gives a fuck?" Katsuki muttered, the faintest smile tugging at his lips as his earlier annoyance began to fade. His gaze shifted to you in the distance, gleefully interacting with the crowd. He was only at this event for you, and now, seeing you so happy, he didn’t regret it in the slightest.

"As long as that little fucker knows his place and stays away from me and my wife, the paparazzi can say whatever they want." You glanced over at your husband just as his eyes locked with yours, filled with affection.

You smiled at him, your eyes gleaming. No matter how many fans or events you attended, it was only Katsuki’s gaze that could disarm you so completely. Katsuki, too, realised how easily he folded when you smiled at him. Despite his fears about dangerous missions, it would always quickly disappear the moment his eyes met yours.

The next day, the cover of nearly every magazine and website featured you and Katsuki. You both stood a little apart, with Kirishima standing next to Katsuki. The crowd and flashing lights surrounded all three of you, but no matter the chaos, your eyes always seemed to find each other.

The headline read: Couple of the Year: In the End, Love Overpowers Fame.

Kirishima texted Katsuki in playful annoyance at being portrayed as the third wheel—though, in truth, he was always more than happy to play that role.