𝗛𝗢𝗧 𝗠𝗢𝗠𝗦 𝗡𝗘𝗔𝗥 𝗠𝗘 *+:。.。
summary. jjk men falling for single moms. | wc. 2k+
cw/ tw. fem!reader, parenthood, oc, domestic fluff, mild amount of angst, friends to lovers, co-parenting, pining, slight suggestiveness with nanami's, pet names (ex. dove, sweetheart)
featuring. gojo, yuuji, sukuna, nanami
an. I'm really telling on myself rn, but I've been binging ghibli movies so I'm feeling soft, okay? also, this is a minstrel of what this fic used to be, but I rewrote it and it's basically a whole new thing and I never thought I'd put the words 'fluff' and 'sukuna' in the same post lmao, comments and reblogs are appreciated ༉‧₊˚.
𝗚𝗢𝗝𝗢 ༊*·˚
Being a single mom has its ups and downs, especially when it comes to dating. You can easily recount the times you sat across from a date who looked like they ate something sour after the mention of your daughter, how they paused, spine going stiff—never keen on the type of baggage that comes in small packages.
So it’s only natural to expect the same with Gojo when you tell him on the first date in the back of a coffee shop, wincing internally with a tight grip around your cup. You wait for the awkward laugh, the promise to call you later, even though they never do.
But then he surprises you.
He smiles—that same one that filled your belly with butterflies the first time you ran into him in the elevator at work—gaze unexpectedly soft, and answers, “What’s her name?”
You take a sip of your coffee to distract yourself from that fluttery feeling in your chest. “Mai.”
Your heartbeat doesn’t slow for hours after that date; you admit you hadn’t expected him to take it in full stride.
Almost two years later, sometimes you still can’t believe it—how he fits so effortlessly in your life, that he’s shown you time and time again that he has no problem treating your daughter like his own.
He calls her princess; treats her like one, too. One day, you walk into the living room to find Mai putting clips in Satoru's hair and unicorn stickers on his face, letting her ramble about her day at daycare (because the afternoon reading circle is apparently very eventful for a bunch of four-year-olds).
On the days that he’s off work, you have to keep the fridge stocked with food, or else they’ll eat nothing but sweets all day. And when he does cook, he'll have a chair pushed up to the counter for Mai to see and help—though your kitchen is often left a total mess afterward.
It’s after dinner, Mai tucked into bed, his arms tucked around your waist while you scrub a pot, a thumb tracing your abdomen—sweetheart, what if we had another?—and you let yourself think about it. Can’t help it.
This time you won’t be alone in a delivery room, Satoru’s large hands comfortingly wrapped around yours before holding his newborn for the first time, one with Satoru’s smile and maybe your eyes. Another set of small feet running down the hall for cuddles in the morning…
You reach down and cup his hand, despite it being covered in sudsy dishwater, though he doesn’t seem to care.
“I think…I think I’d like that.”
𝗬𝗨𝗨𝗝𝗜 ༊*·˚
He’s always been your best friend: since the day you fell off the swingset when you were six and after you found out you were pregnant and never heard anything back from the father.
It's possibly the best and worst thing that could have happened to you.
The best because he’s there for you until the twins come screaming into the world; it’s no surprise they’re just as drawn to his sunny personality as everyone else. Yuuji becomes a shadow at your side in the weeks after, becoming somewhat of a quasi-parent even though you never asked him to, which is why it’s the worst.
Those easy smiles are slowly replaced by the feeling of your heart trembling in your chest whenever you catch him hastily tripping up the stairs to the nursery to wake the twins from their nap. Or when he takes the three of you to the park for a picnic and spends the entire time staring at one of the sleeping little boys on your chest as if they’re doing cartwheels.
You try not to think about it too much unless you want to risk losing Yuuji, to crumble whatever solid foundation your friendship sits on. Plus, why would he want to settle with a single mom anyway?
You’ve seen the girls he’s dated, and none of them walk out of the house wearing a sweater covered in baby food stains, pretty, willowy girls who put a little more effort into their appearance than you have in months.
And the sadder, more obvious answer is that there’s no way he feels the same about you—sweet, whole-hearted Yuuji who’s friendly to strangers and always willing to help wherever he’s needed.
You’re not the exception.
There’s some truth to that, which rapidly disintegrates as the months go on. You can no longer ignore how Yuuji lights up whenever someone accidentally mistakes him for the twin’s father or mention how cute your family is.
It’s easy to imagine until you’re so wrapped up in thoughts that make you bite back a smile—of coming home to Yuuji napping with the twins on the couch, quiet evenings snuggled up under soft blankets on the couch, kissing him when he leaves for work in the morning—that you nearly miss what he says to the sweet old man who’s been giving Yuuji unsolicited parenting advice, “Maybe she’ll actually say yes when I ask her to marry me someday.”
He’s not looking at you when he says it, but you see how his smile reaches his eyes (soft as if he’s inserted himself into the same future you thought of), and for a moment, you allow yourself to hope.
𝗦𝗨𝗞𝗨𝗡𝗔 ༊*·˚
He’s never been the type to want kids of his own, and yet he couldn’t turn a blind eye when you call him nearly two months since that night at his brother’s birthday party—hazily remembering you telling him you’re one of Yuuj’s friends before he took you back to his place—to tell him you’re pregnant.
“You don’t have to be there. I just thought you should know,” you say wetly.
“Jesus—” he sighs, scrubbing a hand down his face. He doesn’t think the employee breakroom at the gym is the right place to have this conversation. “Listen, don’t cry. I’ll be there, alright?”
Sukuna at least thought he’d actually be with the person he has a kid with. Over the next four years, that couldn’t be further from the truth.
There’s a lot that’s undesirable about the situation, like the fact that every time he leaves his room, he always ends up stepping on Legos because you insist on buying Hana more and leave them at his place, or that he can't eat anything these days without a small hand reaching out for his food.
But the one thing that really makes his blood curdle is whenever he has Hana for the weekend, and she rambles through a mouthful of mac n’ cheese about how you and Yuuji took her to the park, with more stories about Yuuji this and Yuuji that.
He should be grateful his brother is such a doting uncle, yet he grinds his teeth the longer his daughter prattles on.
Out of everything, this is the one thing he chooses to find an issue with: high-school sweetheart Yuuji, pictures of him found in frames all over your house; helpful and supportive, perfectly polite, always-nice-to-be-around-Yuuji who everyone gravitated towards, even you, it seems.
He tells himself it’ll go away eventually, that strange pit of jealousy festering in his chest like an open wound. It doesn’t.
Sukuna spends so much time thinking about it that he’s thoroughly annoyed by the time you stop by to pick up Hana for the week.
“Did you guys have a nice weekend? You seem…” Of course, you’d pick up on his shitty mood. “Upset.”
“I’m fine,” he grumbles, hoping you’ll leave it alone.
You don’t.
“Listen, if this is about Friday, I told you Yuuji’s okay dropping her off.”
“I bet he is,” Sukuna sneers, shoving the last of Hana’s Legos into her bag.
You huff. “What is your problem?”
“Nothing, but I bet you’ll run back to Yuuji and tell him about it anyway.”
“Are you seriously jealous of your brother?”
He scoffs but doesn’t answer.
“If you want to be with me so badly, just say it.” You put your hands on your hips. “Go on, say it.”
In the end, he breaks first. Wrapping his hand around the back of your neck, he presses his mouth to yours, fingers flexing at your little gasp. When he breaks the kiss, panting a little, he says, “I want to be with you, and I want to raise my fucking kid with you. Happy?”
There’s a scandalized gasp, and he looks down to find Hana standing there with her sandals on the wrong feet, blinking up at him with round eyes.
“Daddy, that’s a bad word.”
“Listen here, brat—ow.”
𝗡𝗔𝗡𝗔𝗠𝗜 ༊*·˚
The first time he meets you, one of the associates for his company introduces you as his wife—a fresh-eyed college student who’s more concerned about staring at other women at the business function than the beautiful one on his arm—and he kindly shakes your hand, watching you give such devoted attention to a man undeserving of it.
What would it be like to be loved like that?
A few years have gone by when he sees you again, except this time, there’s no ring on your finger, and you’re in the middle of walking into his office for an interview with a little boy balanced on your hip.
“Sorry, my babysitter called in sick, and I couldn’t find a replacement in time—Oh.” It’s in that small moment between closing the door and hauling a diaper bug up your shoulder that you recognize him, too. “I didn’t realize you were the one doing the interview.”
He arches a brow. “No?”
“Sorry…again. I didn’t mean it like that, and I’m usually not this unprepared.” You set the toddler down on the floor and straighten out your skirt, giving him a shy, pretty smile.
Nanami swallows and gestures to the seat in front of his desk. “He can stay.”
While he asks you questions, your son—Haru, he learns—keeps busy with a coloring book that you give him, and before you leave after the interview, he silently proffers Nanami a sheet of paper filled with yellow and green crayon squiggles.
He tacks it to the corkboard wall next to his desk.
When you start working as his office assistant, he never brings up the topic of your ex-husband. It’s obvious the man doesn’t care about his family, anyway—not when you show up most days looking worn out.
It starts to burn in his chest, the way your eyes drop sometimes, the little reassuring nod he’ll catch you giving yourself after what must’ve been a rough morning.
Nanami knows he’s in way over his head when he asks you out for coffee; how he’s surprised you say yes, which leads to more dates until he slowly finds that smile of warm devotion aimed in his direction.
Eventually, your things fill the empty spaces in his home, and the spare room in his house becomes a nursery. His once quiet mornings of reading the paper are now pleasantly disrupted by the smell of pancakes and Haru trying to climb into his lap to read with him.
The first time Haru asks for Nanami after a nightmare—rubbing his wet eyes while standing near Nanami's side of the bed in his shark pajamas, sans one sock, until Nanami scoops him up and deposits him between you—he winces (because he doesn’t want it to seem like he’s taking something away from you) before he notices the soft smile curling your mouth.
He can’t pretend to fully understand why you ever agreed to that first date when the odds weren’t terribly in his favor, but he has a long time to learn, and right now, he’s focused on other things.
"Quiet, dove,” he murmurs, kissing your temple. “You're going to wake the baby..."
thank you for reading <3
Teaching Dabi how to eat pussy the way you like it but he’s so desperately sloppy and messy about it that you just hump his face with one hand gripping his hair and the other tight on your own throat.
He’s inexperienced, mostly, he doesn’t give often if not at all to the partners he’s had in the past, few and far between; but then you came along and all of a sudden he’s offering and begging and demanding. He’s so used to seeing pussy eating in porn, in magazines that he’s got no rhythm, no method, no thought behind his guzzling and slurping and biting. So when you anchor yourself to him with a frustrated little whine, lifting your hips and grinding smoothly and sweetly against his tongue and his nose; Touya swears sees new colours and hears new sounds. The wet click of your cunt against his lips and chin, the shuddering of your thighs either side of his head, your mumbles and gasps against your constricted throat, and your encouraging praises of him just staying right there, just like that Touya. He cums loud and wet as he looks up at you through his lashes, half angry that you’re not teaching him like you said but half insane over the state of you, using him to your heart’s content.
hey, how are you doing? :)
may I request Leto joker smut headcanons?? thank you
Still in mood swings. Hope ya are feeling good tho :]
Also this is a short one, i was out of ideas
Okay, he'll be into almost anything. As long as you are enjoying yourself.
He would like to dom you. But somehow you can convince him to be a sub.
When hes a dom he'll let out low grunts. But when hes sub, he'll be shamelessly moaning out loud.
He'll be running his hands around ur body. Telling how beautiful you are, moaning for him.
I don't think he minds toys.
Aftercare is holding into you, not letting go.
your boyfriend cannot stop himself from kissing you all over. kissing you is his favorite thing to do - no matter when or where.
☀︎|tags. older bf!gojo satoru x female reader. suggestive, mild (to somewhat) nsfw, fluff. lots of kissing. lots and lots of kissing and loving. he fondles and gropes you everywhere basically. clingy satoru. tiny bit size difference (yes ok im a slut, what about it). body worship kinda. readers gets called ‘sweet / pretty girl, baby, princess’. beta read? what’s that.
you fell for it again; satoru told you it was only going to be a quick peck on the lips. ‘i promise, baby, c'moooon’ — you recall him begging in that whiny voice of his. that's all what was needed to make you putty in his hands.
“fine, but only one kiss, okay?” you gave in and walked over to satoru, climbed onto your shared bed and leaned in for a swift kiss—only for his strong arms to cage you in and never let go. it had been ten minutes since; the apartment was silent, except for the lewd sounds of your shared kisses and heavy breaths.
satoru’s soft hands are wandering everywhere. from cupping your cheeks to rubbing your sides and gripping your ass. the clock was ticking loudly, but the sound of it was drowned out by your moans. and satoru’s low, needy whimpers.
the appointment you were getting ready for had long slipped your mind.
“mh, you’re such a good kisser, baby,” the white-haired man sighs. he absolutely loves the way you follow the movements of his glossy lips—your head tilting to the side and back—automatically accomodating to satoru’s motions. he was kissing you with an urgent need. one you had never known or witnessed before, “more, ngh, need more of you, please.”
satoru was not letting up. you couldn’t blame him; it was easy to get lost in this warm and cherished moment of peace. his sweet kisses switched intensity—going from innocent kisses to sloppy ones, resulting in your chin dripping with a mixture of saliva.
you whine and straddle satoru’s lap which earns you a happy hum from your lover. that was his plan all along: to completely distract you from the fact that you had to leave the house. that you had to leave his side. others would call it annoyingly clingy, but satoru absolutely needs your lips on his.
he is sure that he would go insane if he spent a whole day without kissing you. an hour is already too long, if he is honest.
satoru would love to kiss you until the end of time. until death comes knocking onto his door. the last thing he desires to feel is your plump lips and wet tongue wrapped around his. a peaceful, warm death. one with no regrets.
“mhmmm, fuck, you taste so sweet.” satoru's eyebrow furrow in delight. he is nearly overstimulated by the taste of you. the way your small body clings onto him, your hands holding onto his jaw and sliding down his chest, your sounds of pleasure that only he could ever have the honour of hearing.
it was perfect. all of you was perfect.
your parted lips make way for his tongue again. satoru slips his tongue inside your mouth. it was tender, yet demanding. your throat tightens up and a choked moan fills his ears. his cold fingers make contact with the warm skin of your midriff. they were aiming at one place; your chest.
the one satoru loves to fondle no matter when or where. the same one he loves to use as a pillow every night.
“nnh, ‘toru, need’to breathe,” you are running out of air. the short gasps you took between the heated kisses were not enough to fill your lungs. but, it was addicting. the shortness of breath the two of you experienced only served as more proof of your love.
neither of you want to pull away—to pause the make out session for even what could be a split second.
the older man below you is hesistant. he does not want to let go of you. it's like you’re asking him to break up—that’s how much it hurts him to stop kissing you.
however, he felt a bit light-headed from the lack of oxygen as well. satoru pulls away, but not without sweeping his tongue over your bottom lip, lapping up the drool that dripped down the corners of your mouth.
his eyes are half-lidded and glazed over with both love and lust. you stabilise yourself by holding onto his broad shoulders and satoru rubs your back to help calm you down further. a ghost of a grin tugs at his lips. he surely is enjoying your adorable, exhausted demeanour. your chest was heaving up and down—his fingers sneaking to your front and wrapping around a breast to feel its tenderness.
“pretty,” satoru sighs. he takes the chance once your lips part to take a deep breath. his tongue quickly slips in, invading your mouth and exploring every inch before separating the two of you again. he can not go a minute without kissing you. you sure are like a drug to him, “thank you, princess.”
you are surprised by the sudden tongue kiss, but brush it off with a chuckle. you know how satoru is; not able to keep away from you in heated moments like these. his large hands fondling, groping and squeezing every area of your body only proves that point.
“thank you for what?” you ask, planting a soft peck on his lips. your boyfriend responds by holding the back of your head. he leans in for another kiss like a man depraved of any affection. you shudder and hold onto him like he there is no tomorrow. he does the same back, squeezing you against his chest.
satoru slightly tilts his head back to answer your question. his breath was hot on your mouth, a faint string of saliva hanging between your bottom lips. he can not hold the urge. he can not answer. his lips are already colliding with yours once more.
over and over. until the two of you were out of breath and needed a break again.
“thank you for being with me,” satoru answers in a quiet whisper. the pad of his thumb brushes back and forth against the waistband of the shorts you are wearing. there is an urge to pull them down and reveal those pretty little panties you are wearing, but his current priority is to feel your mouth on his.
until he gets enough. which is never. never in a million years.
“thank you for everything, honestly,” satoru continues and leaves a couple wet kisses down your neck. his hands do not leave your perfect body. he’s admiring every curve - every body part that had yet to be touched, “could have never believed that i’d end up with such a pretty girl. but, here i am, with the prettiest girl in the world in my arms.”
satoru had a way with words. one that left you flustered like crazy each time. he looks at you and that’s when you know that he means every word. his eyes were shining, even when half-lidded. the admiration in them more than just visible.
he looks at your face and body like he’s witnessing the world's greatest treasure. and that you surely are.
“stop saying that.” you giggle embarrassedly. you cover your mouth to hide your smile, though satoru is quick to grab your wrist and pull your hand away. he keeps holding onto your arm to prevent you from hiding your face from his sight. and to stop you from hiding your lips from his, of course.
the older man clicks his tongue, scolding you jokingly for trying to hide that precious smile from him. he kisses the corners of your lips, touch lingering against your hot skin, “how am i supposed to admire my pretty girl if she keeps hiding herself, hm?”
you squirm due to satoru’s flirty words. his gentle tone of voice is making you feel those tingles in your lower abdomen. there has not been a single moment in your relationship where your lover made you feel unwanted. it’s been the complete opposite every day.
“someone’s getting a bit squirmy, aye?” your boyfriend teases. he knows that the combination of his words, looks and actions make you weak in the knees. you always react like it’s your first time kissing and that is both endearing and amusing to him.
you can’t control your bodily reactions either. the sight of satoru beneath you is simply too much. his fluffy hair that sits messily due to your fingers that tugged and played around with the strands, his black top riding up to reveal a glimpse of his defined abs and happy trail. . . the faint blush on satoru’s cheeks and the needy look in his eyes.
you surely can’t leave him alone while he looks like that.
“shut up and kiss me already.” you respond with a huff. and so, satoru does. wasting not a single second. kissing you is his job—his passion. the only thing he ever craves for.
the room once again fills with noises of pure contentment, enjoyment and pleasure. it’s just you two in that moment—no one else mattered.
as long as your lips stay attached to each other, no one actually does.
𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩
𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?
𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?
You’re no stranger to men taking you home. In fact, you’ve come to understand that you must have something about you that entices all men who see you drinking alone at a bar with a pretty dress on. Even the ones you haven’t been eyeing all night.
So it was no surprise when one of your favorites- a man named Dazai- slid into the stool right next to yours on a day when you would usually see each other and asked if he could bring you back to his place for the night. Though it was a surprise when he asked if it was alright if he brought a friend. Someone he thought would just love to meet you. But you’re all for a good time. And you’re all for a pleasant surprise.
So you let Dazai buy you a drink before you took his hand and followed him back to his apartment. Because what you thought you were walking into was just a run-of-the-mill threesome with someone old and someone new. Because you thought you were going to spend the night with someone who has already shown you plenty of good times and someone who hasn’t yet gotten the chance. But what you got?
It was so much better than that.
“Just like that Kunikida. Just like that.” Dazai’s murmurs are right by your ear. His breath tickles your skin and you can’t help but gasp as you feel it rush over the shell of your ear. Immediately, the brunette is quick to let out a near-silent chuckle and press his lips against your neck in all the right spots while murmuring something else- something all too heated- into your skin. Despite all this, you know he isn’t talking to you. In fact, he hasn’t been talking to you much during this scene. His attention has been on the little friend he brought you to. “Look at her face. See how much she enjoys it?”
His attention has been on instructing the little friend he brought on how exactly the guy should fuck you while he watches.
“Y-yeah…” The other man’s voice trembles under the weight of the pleasure you’re both experiencing, but there’s a husky, roughness about that would probably have you falling in love with him if you were more of a sentimental girl. There’s something just unbearably attractive about looking up and meeting the green eyes of some stranger who seems to want to do everything in his power to make you both feel good. “She feels amazing.”
When you first saw him- when you first saw his friend, Kunikida, after stepping behind Dazai and into his apartment, the man seemed intense based on the steeliness of his eyes and the way he never failed to find something to bicker about with his partner. But also timid and inexperienced due to the fact he had to listen to almost everything Dazai said when it came to getting you off. Though most of all, he was cute. He was beyond cute even. He’s tall and well-groomed. Has a great body that looks fantastic in professional wear (and even greater the second all that professional wear comes off). Though he’s not the type of guy you would usually approach. And judging by the way he kept apologizing for being too rough with you here and there when he really wasn’t, you have a feeling that he’s not the type of guy who would have approached you either.
But Dazai said he managed to tempt the guy after a few long talks and a couple of sneaky photos of you Dazai once took at the bar you both tended to meet at. And though in hindsight, you have to acknowledge how weird that feels. Having pictures of you spread around between a regular hook-up and his hook-up. But you don’t think you can ever forget just how good he’s making you feel right now.
Just so fucking good.
You recall kicking off your heels by the entrance somewhere once you got there. You remember leaving your bra on the floor by the bedroom door too. And think you saw your panties being tucked into Dazai’s back pocket, “for safe keeping,” as he called it. But Kunikida insisted that you keep your dress on. He said that with a quiet, almost apologetic voice and with hands to continue to shake and shake and shake until you took them into your own and guided them into cupping your chest through the fabric.
But that was earlier. That was back when Kunikida seemed nearly terrified to touch you out of the fear that he would come to find out that you just aren’t real. Right now? You’re curled up on your side while lying on the edge of Dazai’s bed, and it rocks and creaks and groans under the weight of your activities almost knowingly. Your dress is nearly halfway off your body, hanging off quite lewdly. The straps that were once holding it up and keeping your dress from exposing your chest to the street of Yokohama were pooling around your shoulders, dipping down and exposing the little love bites you just barely managed to convince Kunikida to give you. And the bottom half was bunched around your waist, showing up the size and shape of your backside while also giving the blonde man easy access to your pussy.
Though perhaps most importantly, you have your legs bent and your thighs pressed together in an attempt to ensure that you, Dazai, and his friend Kunikida could all indulge. For you, it’s one of your favorite positions. For Kunikida, this position allows you to tighten your muscles more easily and allows you to make sure you can feel as tight as possible around him. And for Dazai- well, you just know he likes the view.
But it’s not like you need to set up the perfect view for Dazai. It’s not like he hasn’t seen or fucked you like this. And it’s not like you really had to squeeze around Kunikida to make it feel like it’s going to be a tight stretch. You realized that the second you kneeled in front of the guy to give him his first blowjob. You realized that the second you kneeled in front of the guy and came face to face with a cock you had absolutely no idea how he was ever able to hide that thing in pants.
Now, Kunikida has you hanging off the edge of the bed while he fucks you side saddle under Dazai’s careful instructions. The blonde’s hands grip your hips and pumps his cock inside of you at a tempo Dazai sets. And your soft and breathy moans fall in time with every single thrust that hits deep inside of you. Which, for once, you feel almost embarrassed about how easily some strange man has gasping for air. Because when has a virgin ever made you feel this good before? When has a virgin been able to angle his hips so perfectly and thrust his cock so deeply that you’re left drooling and babbling to the both of them about how you never want this to end.
Never.
“Fuck, she looks like she’s taking your cock so well,” Dazai speaks up again, and you could practically hear his own arousal soaking every word he speaks. “Keep it up, Kunikida. You’ll have her cumming in no time like this.”
At the thought of being given another orgasm- especially on some pretty, blonde stranger’s dick- is all too exciting. Though your mind can’t help but wander to Dazai and his role in all of this. At the moment, he’s hovering over you on the bed- making sure to keep a close eye on everything that’s happening. Every once in a while, he’ll tell Kunikida to change the pace or the intensity. To go harder and faster. Slower and more intentional. Just to keep you guessing. Just to keep you on your toes. Just to keep you crazy. And as you try to turn your head towards Dazai, you’re just able to make out the tent forming in his pants. His erection strains against the fabric. A dick you’ve sucked plenty of times before and would really like to suck again right now.
But earlier in the night he made a promise to both you and Kunikida. A promise that he was only going to watch tonight. A promise that anytime he was going to touch you tonight, it’d be for Kunikida’s sake and for your pleasure and for those reasons alone. And apparently, the normally tricky man wanted to hold true to his promise that he was only here to observe tonight. Because he was quick to grab at the hand you hand that was trying to reach for the zipper of his slacks with his own bandaged ones before moving to pin them to the bed.
The position he had you in was awkward, but the heated and devious look he gave you as he peered into your half-lidded eyes with a lustful stare of his own was enough to make you feel proud. If he was a weaker man, his resolve would have crumbled. Almost instantly. Who doesn’t want a pretty girl to wrap their lips around a man’s neglected and lonely cock. Especially when that very same man is selflessly directing the scene where his very own co-worker goes and fucks the brains out of his favorite hook-up in front of him. You’re sure if you’d asked nicely enough and smiled sweetly enough, you’d be getting your way with him in no time.
Only except, he didn’t exactly let you get your way. Not even close.
“Naughty, naughty~” He lightly teased above you, a charmed smirk on his face. You tried to give him one back as a giggle passed through your lips. And judging by the way his smile only widened, he seemed to be enjoying you almost as much as his partner was. But all too suddenly, he turned his attention away from you and barked an order at Kunikida. A second later, you were no longer smiling. You were too busy gasping and squealing and crying out now that Kunikida was slamming himself inside of you, pressing up against your g-spot nearly every single time while Dazai cooed at you tauntingly. “You like it, sweetheart? You like Kunikida’s dick inside your pussy?”
“Mhm…” You find yourself responding almost instantly between your whiny moans, Kunikida’s low groans, and the sound of skin slapping against skin as Kunikida fucks you nice and fast and hard and deep. Right now, Dazai looks more than pleased at the fact that you were so quickly reduced down to nothing but a drooling little mess. But he’s at least kind enough to press tiny little kisses against your neck and cheeks and more in an attempt to encourage you to use your words for him when telling him how you feel. Just how he likes it. “I- I like it…I really like it, Dazai.”
“Yeah, I can tell. I wish you could see what we see.” Dazai remarks almost absently. He’s leaning over you a bit more now- moving around so he can view your body at different angles. It’s so- it’s just so hot how comfortable he feels running his hands over your body while his co-worker fucks you stupid. It’s amazing how the two of them end up so in tune with each other’s thoughts and actions. It’s crazy how Kunikida just lets another man take fistfuls of your chest and ass and squeezes tight while his dick is inside of you. And it’s perhaps even more insane that Dazai is fine with just feeling you up and groping at your curves instead of letting you please him back. Almost as if this is enough for him to enjoy. Almost as if he’s truly happy taking the backseat because he enjoys watching you get fucked by someone else. Almost as if he just enjoys watching you. “Kunikida, aren’t those creamy little rings she’s leaving on your cock just so cute? Isn’t she just so wet?”
You whine at the image Dazai is painting in your head, but you know he’s not lying. You know he’s telling the truth. You’ve been able to hear yourself all night. All your moans and gasps for air, sure. But also the almost embarrassingly wet sounds your pussy has been making Kunikida stuffs himself inside of you and slides right back out just so easily. And even though you know both men (as well as others in the past) have always loved it, you couldn’t help but feel embarrassed when it came to Kunikida. Because you were supposed to be a veteran in this field. You were supposed to be the fun and commanding first fuck of this man. The one who steals his virginity away from him.
Although, it seems like all you can do at the moment is let your breath be stolen away from you instead.
Though for a second, Kunikida doesn’t say anything. Not to you. Not to Dazai. Not even proclamations under his breath about just how good you feel when you’re squeezing around him and letting him stuff you nice and full. Something you’ve not only come to enjoy- you’ve found that you’ve come to miss it in the moments where it’s not there. His prolonged silence makes you curious as the only thing he fills the room with at the moment is nothing but the sound of his harsh breathing and the tell-tale sounds of skin against skin. So you turn to him. But the face you find yourself looking at isn’t the most familiar one. It’s not one that you commonly see when you’re hooking up with strangers you meet at the bar. Hell, it’s not one that you see at all really. In fact, you only saw it once before today. And even then, you swear you know exactly what it is. You know exactly what you’re looking at. And it nearly scares you- especially when you hear the next two words that come out of his mouth.
“She’s perfect.”
Because it’s the face of a man who thinks he’s in love.
“She is, isn’t she.”
And it’s the exact same face you remember Dazai had on the first time he fucked you too.
Haitani Rindou/Lana Del Rey - Meet me at the pale moonlight
I found a wheel decider app or whatever and I put a few random songs from my playlists with a few TR characters in another wheel. I decided to write imagines with the songs and characters I’ll get from the wheels.
A masterlist for what’s more to come
Childhood enemies to teenagers in love, a few swear words, Rindou is an asshole and a bully, Y/N is smart, the words “sucking dick” are mentioned once but that’s about all.
Haitani Rindou x gn!reader. 1.9k words
Understand this, I been likin' you since I was small / I'm the sweetest girl in town so why are you so mean?
Haitani Rindou was always mean. When he was just a kid he would make fun of other children, push them off of swing sets and slides, he would throw sand at them and push them around. He was a bully and no kids ever tried to stop him. Even if the kid’s on the playground would go and cry to their moms and moms did try and discipline him, he would never listen. And Ran didn’t care enough to try and do anything about it. After all he was only one year older and didn’t know any better. He even found it amusing and entertaining.
Even though Rindou bullied everyone, you were his main target. He hated how pure and innocent you were. He hated how you always smiled at everyone and tried to be friends with every single kid. He hated your voice, your laugh, your stupid face. Just hearing your name made him cringe.
He was the meanest kid in school when he started first grade. The bullying got worse and everyone tried to avoid him. He sat alone in all classes and sometimes even during lunch. His table was empty, besides the days when Ran was with him. You, unfortunately, were classmates. And what was even worse was that you sat in front of him. That was a complete accident. He came in last on the first day of school and the only empty seat was behind you. He poked your back, put trash into your backpack and kick your seat. He made sure to make every single day of yours in that school - hell.
Once middle school started, you moved seats. You sat further away from Rindou and for some reason that annoyed him. He was mad that he didn’t see your face in front of him anymore. Instead he started seeing the ugliest guy in class, in his opinion. On his face there were often boogers, he always had extremely messy hair, his clothes were always dirty, because him and his friends liked to play outside. Rindou thought it was stupid. They weren’t children anymore so what was the point of that? Going back to the topic of you, Rindou was sure that even though you escaped him for now, he’d still manage to ruin your days. He looked for you during breaks. He pushed you into lockers, he made sure that you’d trip in front of everyone and he even stuck his gum on your school uniform. Though at the end of middle school, Rindou disappeared. It left you with both shock and satisfaction. Turns out he was in juvie for killing someone with his brother. After that, you started fearing your all time enemy Haitani Rindou.
When high school started, Rindou wasn’t alone anymore. He was friends with the older and younger guys who were nothing but trouble. He became a well known delinquent and ruled Roppongi with his older brother Ran. Now whenever you’d walk in the halls you’d see the scariest group in school. It consisted of the Haitani brothers, Mochizuki Kanji, Kurokawa Izana, Kakucho, Hanma Shuji, Kisaki Tetta, Sanzu Haruchiyo, Shion Madarame and Muto Yasuhiro. Rindou didn’t bully you as much anymore. Mostly because he wasn’t in school as often. So it was just your luck. Though when he was in school his teasing was worse than before, since his new friends would laugh at you and make snarky comments too. You’d just throw a small smile their way, or grip your bag and walk past them whilst looking at the school’s corridor tiles that would all of a sudden grab your interest. You never knew what caused this hatred for the younger Haitani. Of course he treated everyone with malice. But you were treated even worse. After all when you both were children you liked him a lot and tried to be his friend too. But all he ever did was make fun of you.
Today was different than the other days. Rindou was alone the moment he saw you in the corridor and so were you. And it wasn’t only that, no. There were only the two of you which made you tense up. You were always one of the first students to show up in school since you had to take the first bus there. But what was the Haitani doing here so early too? Once you saw a smirk show up on his face you let out a sigh.
“What a freak. Not only are you a teachers pet, you’re always so early here.” He snorted. “Do you suck the teacher’s dicks or something? That’s probably why your grades are so high, huh.” He started tapping his jaw with his pointer finger, pretending to be deep in thought.
“What did I ever do to you..?” You mumble.
“Huh? Speak up, dumbass.” He gritted his teeth.
“Why are you so mean to me?!” You yell while poking his chest with your finger. “All I’ve ever done is be nice to you and your stupid brother. I’ve never said one bad thing about either of you. So what the hell is your issue?!” Your voice was becoming louder by the second. You were tired. You’ve already gone through enough. “Fuck you, Haitani. You and all of your stupid little friends. You all suck.” You turned around and left him standing alone. After that Rindou and his friends didn’t bother you anymore.
When you turned seventeen, you were one of the prettiest people in school. Boys and girls adored you, your looks and your personality. Everyone wanted to be your friend and your lunch table was never empty. Almost every single day there were different people around you. There was even a fan club made for you in school. People would give you love letters every week and you received many gifts from your admirers. Haitani Rindou though was never at school. As much as you knew - he was roaming around the streets of Japan with his gang known as Tenjiku. Of course it had all of his buddies there and they were getting bigger by the day. Sometimes to pass his grades, he’d randomly pop up in school. You’d walk into maths and he wouldn’t be there, but he’d be in the next period. Sitting alone, looking at his phone. Sometimes a random friend of his would walk into the class during break time and they’d talk about the violent things they did the day before, making sure everyone heard. He never bothered you, but to your surprise he started talking to you. It started with a greeting once he’d see you and then it got to small conversations that he’d try to initiate. This year, you once again had to sit in front of him. But instead of bullying you, he’d give you small notes asking about your day, he’d compliment your perfume or jewellery. And with pure confusion and suspicion you’d talk back to him.
At the age of eighteen you both became kind of friends. He’d walk with you in the school halls and the both of you sometimes even sat together at lunch (though when that did happen, none of your friends dared to sit with you. They were too scared of Haitani Rindou and there would only be the two of you there. Not like you blamed them). It was friday when your classes ended and you walked out of school alone, after waving everyone goodbye and having small talk with the random people that stopped you before you left. You started walking towards your bus stop when something caught your attention. Rindou was yelling your name while sitting on his bike in front of his friends. That made you feel anxious and you stood in one place, frozen. Would your friendship with the Haitani end so soon? You knew it was weird how fast he changed. It was all too good to be true. Your thoughts were disturbed when the sound of a bike sounded way closer than it should.
“C’mon I’ll give you a ride home, (L/N).” Rindou smiled at you.
“Huh?” You turned your head to the side and you could swear you hear a quiet ‘cute’ leave his mouth.
“I’ll drive you home. There’s still an hour left before your bus comes, right?” He looks straight into your eyes. Behind him you could see his brother snd friends smirking and that made you feel even more uncomfortable. Rindou turned around to see what you were looking at and let out a groan. “Don’t worry about them. That’s just the way they are. You can trust me, you know that right? Sit down.” He patted the seat behind him. You let out a shaky breath and nodded.
“Fine. But don’t try anything stupid, Haitani.”
“Would never dream of it.” He grabbed onto your sweater and pulled you closer. After that your vision was dark for a second as he put on a helmet on your head.
That day you realised how fun it was to ride a bike. As you held onto his waist you felt free. Like you were on a magical cloud. The wind was caressing your body and everything felt so great. The adrenaline was running throughout your whole body and it made your senses heightened. You were introduced to a whole new world and Rindou could only smile while looking at you through the small mirror attached to his motorcycle.
At summer Rindou asked you to go the Sumidagawa Fireworks Festival* with him. You asked why he didn’t want to go with his brother and friends, but his answer was short. “I want to spend it with you.” To that you only nodded and agreed to go with him. That day he showed up in front of your house with his bike and took the both of you to the festival. You bought some food and drinks and hung out for a while, before the fireworks began. After some thinking he took you to a more discreet place, but he promised you that you’d still see the fireworks from there. The both of you sat in an abandoned parking lot that was on a hill and you asked him how he’d even find this place. “Me and my brother found it a while ago. We like to come here when we feel like running away from the world.”
And when they did start, you were in awe. Everything looked like it was from a fairy tale. And as the fireworks painted the sky in many different colours, Rindou’s gang jacket was around your shoulders and so was his arm.
“Hey, can I ask you something?”
“Of course.” You smiled at him.
“Can I kiss you?” He whispered while looking at you. Rindou looked scared and he was. He didn’t want to ruin whatever he had with you. After all he was an asshole to you for so long and he was glad that you’ve managed to forgive him.
“Yeah.” You nodded slowly. “Yeah, you can.”
His hand reached the back of your head and pulled you close. Once your lips touched it felt like the world went quiet. Like you just finished a puzzle by putting the last two pieces together. And as the two of you parted from the kiss, the sky was flashing in many different colours. Rindou could swear that you were still far more beautiful than any view. So he did what he felt was right and leaned in for a second kiss.
———
*It’s one of Tokyo's largest and most urban fireworks displays
Pairing: Miguel O'hara x F!reader
Summary: Never in your wildest dream did you imagine having your husband ask you to sit on his face.
Tags: Face sitting, multiple orgasms, vaginal fingering, overstimulation, smut, NOT BETA READ.
Words: 1.2k
saw someone plead for this one lmao. They asked so nicely so I delivered, idk if this is how it usually goes tbh. This shit's so rushed but I guess I have to squeeze everything out before school starts again tomorrow aaaaaaaaaa
other than that, enjoy! Thank you all for your love on my fics aaaaaaaaaa im running out of header pics da;flkhwah
mi vida - my life || dios mio - my god || mi bella esposa - my beautiful wife || cariño - honey
“You want me to do what now?”
Miguel sighed exasperatedly as he facepalmed, embarrassed. “Don’t make me repeat mys—”
“No no no, I heard you loud and clear.” Which doesn’t mean you understand why all of a sudden. “But why?”
“Should I have any reason why I want you to sit on my face?”
In a gazillion universe, you’d never thought you’d hear those words come out of his lips. Sitting on his lap, you stared at the man incredulously to which he scowled at.
Usually, oral between you both are usually done with you underneath him as he pinned your thighs open and wide for him since he likes the control. To hear him ask you to sit on his face mid-foreplay shocked you.
You pinched your thigh, unconvinced by his sudden change of mind and Miguel sighed once more.
“Is it that hard to believe, mi vida? Dios mio, if you don’t want to do it, just say it—”
“No no no, lay back down, I’m just processing.”
Excitement thrummed madly in your veins as you pushed the man back into the mattress. Excitement got you removing your underwear in a second before sitting back on his chest. It’s not fast enough apparently, when his strong arms hook under your legs and pull you directly on top of his lips.
Your breath got stuck into your throat. The mere feeling of his hot breath on your skin caused ripples of heat from your abdomen to your fingertips. You’ve always had orals before, it was something he’d never forget, yet there was something about sitting on top of his face that got you aroused more than ever.
“Go any slower and I would’ve thought you’d want to back out.”
“Not my fault. You’re so impatient.”
“A pretty girl sat on top of me, naked and wet, begging to be devoured. Do you think I’d ignore you, mi bella esposa?”
His dark voice, along with his fogged red eyes staring at you through his eyelash sent shivers down your spine, cheeks flushing beet red. You almost slapped the growing smirk off of his face at your flustered state.
“You’re so annoying.”
“And you smell absolutely delicious.”
His arms locked around your thighs and you immediately knew you were done.
His tongue felt like silk gliding through your folds before rolling your clit in figures of eight. You sighed, throwing your head back as pleasure slithered down your spine at his every exhale fanning your skin.
There was something about the stings his stubbles brings as it scratches your skin along with the stimulation of his tongue that drive you crazy.
You swear you’re not a masochist by any means, yet when it comes to Miguel, every joy, sadness, pain and pleasure felt like a reward from the high heavens that you couldn’t help but accept with gratitude.
Your hand found stability in his dark locks, pulling and tugging his head closer to your heat, causing him to groan, the vibration seeping into your bones.
His hands roamed your body as if desperate to find a treasure in the unknown, nails dragging the skin from your back and down to the globes of your ass. The sting they left in their wake stirs your nerves awake, the pain mixing in with pleasure. You sighed, falling to lean on the piles of pillows as you dragged your clit with the point of his tongue.
Miguel wandered lower, tongue rolling around the rim of your entrance, sending electric jolts down your legs. You shivered as the sensation of his fangs rubbing against your folds, always so close yet so far away.
You gasped when the appendage plunged into your entrance, his large nose pushing into your clit as he pulled you closer to his face.
“Fuck…!”
“You taste divine, cariño.” He groaned. “Give me more.”
Bringing his hand down hard onto your ass, you whined. The stinging pain it left had your body singing for more and you knew Miguel was aware of the effect it has on you with how hard you clench on his silky appendage.
“Move.”
“Huh?”
Another sharp slap echoed in the living room, harder than the one earlier and you cried, hips stuttering forward on his flattened tongue.
“Ride me, cariño. Like you’ve always wanted.”
And you swear you’ve never heard anything more romantic than that.
With a smidge of hesitance, fearing you’d suffocate him, you rolled yourself on his tongue, eyes locked onto his darkened ones that dripped with desire. Still unsatisfied, his hand lands another hit on your skin and you move more desperately against him.
You cry as he starts to pick up the pace of his tongue, putting pressure onto your bead and shaking his head aggressively underneath you. He swats you once more when your hips stutter from the stimulation before clawing your flesh and grounding you further into his mouth.
“Harder.”
“I’m trying—Ah!”
Sneaking a hand below, he immediately inserts two digits inside of you. He spared no time hastening the speed of his thrusts while licking enthusiastically onto your clit making your eyes roll back.
Chasing the pleasure his fingers and mouth offered you, your hips rolled uncontrollably against his face. The obscene squelch echoing in the room would have embarrassed you, yet you couldn’t find it in you to flush.
The tight knot in your abdomen tightens as heat explodes from your chest and reaches down the tips of your limbs. You couldn’t do anything but cry as you tether closer to nirvana.
“I-I’m close.”
“Come for me, mi vida. Give it to me. I want it all.”
With his grounding arm reaching up to rake through your back along with his fingers and tongue, the knot unfurls and you come with a cry.
Suddenly, he had both arms wrapped around your waist, preventing you from fluttering away from his ministrations. You gasped and pushed at his head but he paid no heed to them, rolling and shaking his tongue onto your clit as if trying to coax another climax from you.
“Miguel…!”
His nails digging into your flesh was the only answer you received and maybe the tug on his lips at your trembling thighs as well. It didn’t take long before pain started to blur with pleasure and your hips rocked against his tongue despite the protest of your heat with one hand tugging on his hair and the other holding on for dear life onto the headboard.
You didn’t have the mind to worry about his nose being blocked by your mon pubis, focused solely on your orgasm. With how he ground your hips onto his lips, you knew he didn’t mind.
And with a weak shout, you unravel, flesh and bones, on top of him. There’s a sound of something breaking in the haze, but paid no heed to it as you fall bonelessly onto the mattress. Miguel pulls away, gasping for air just as you turn to face the ceiling.
Your arousal drenching his face evoked something feral within you, the simmering desire in your stomach stirring awake once more. His eyes turned to the headboard and chuckled, reaching over to run his fingers over the dent with amusement dancing in his eyes.
“I guess a Spider-Man will always be a Spider-Man.”
“Oh shut up.” You groaned, chucking a pillow on his face.
The Worst Logan
Logan Howlett x Reader!Loganverse| smut | 5.8k words
Summary: You are the deceased-anchor-being-Logan's lover, having found yourself with Laura in the void, you navigate meeting the variant of the love of your life. Sweet dick kicking angst with gratuitous smut, cause we all know Logan eats pussy like a CHAMP. 😤
This is self indulgence at its finest, but it had be to done. 7-years ago, the movie Logan broke something within me that has finally been fixed! 🤠💕
Warning: Explicit - smut. canon death, depression, angst, spoilers for Logan / Wolverine and deadpool, cunnilingus, unprotected p in v, creampie, all the good stuff. 18+
The first time you see him again, the new him, the other him you mean. It’s in the cave accompanied by a man who talks far too much.
You recognise his voice in an instant when the mouth finally allows him to get a word in edgeways. His voice.
You’ve heard it nearly every night for the past seven years. It's a few octaves deeper than you remember and filled to the brim with vitriol but it's definitely his. The realisation that your memory has been warped by time is a blow to the gut but you continue towards the sound all the same.
When finally you round the corner Logan stands before you in all his glory. For a moment you are rendered utterly unable to form a single sentence as he leans against the wall, a bottle of bourbon in his palm and adorned in yellow and blue.
Your mind can't reconcile this figure as the man you buried. He has the same sneer, the same broad shoulders, he even has the same stance - but Logan, your Logan, would rather die than wear that garish yellow suit and admit to being the hero he always was.
His nose flares in what you believe to be recognition as he smells your presence, you allow your powers to retreat and reveal yourself. As your invisibility ebbs away Logan snarls in surprise as the talkative man in red gasps theatrically and begins jumping on the spot.
Your fears are proven well founded when your eyes connect with his across the room, instead of the love and recognition, you find only open hostility and rage.
Your heart had bulldozed all logic, you were in the fucking void, of course it was a variant.
This Logan looks younger; his hair not so grey, his face unscarred and his eyes not so tired.
This not-quite-Logan stares right back at you seemingly ill at ease with the stranger who is currently taking an inventory of his face.
“Logan, that's them. It’s X-23 and Y/N, the one’s I told you about.” You graze your palm along your daughter's back in support as you come to stand beside her.
“Her name is Laura.” It’s a knee jerk reaction; your correction. Your girl wasn’t the sum total of an experiment, she was her own person with her own thoughts and feelings, not a weapon to be utilised.
The Wolverine’s gaze darts between the two of you, it’d be comical if you didn’t feel like you were about to regurgitate your lunch. They land on Laura, and linger there for a few moments, before they return to you, it's as if he’s trying to find you in her features.
You barely hear the man you will later come to know fondly as Wade Wilson, question how you all ended up in the void.
“There was a knock at the door TVA sent me here, saying my world was dying … and I never even got the chance to fight for it.” Blade explains remorsefully.
“They sent us here because they knew we’d put up a fight.” You utter distractedly, finally breaking your staring contest with Logan as he takes a swig from the bottle he’s currently white knuckling.
“People like us don’t go quietly, TVA knows that so they took us out.” Elektra attests.
“The answer is yes, I’m in.” Wade declares.
“In what?” Blade questions bemused by the man in red.
“A team up, you me, me you, all of us together, lets get the fuck outta’ here.”
“Don’t listen to him, he’s a fucking liar!” Logan growls, furious at the other man.
“It was an educated wish!”
“HA!” The loathing behind it makes you pause, he was so angry.
The heat in his voice, the resentment, it burns you. You supposed even your Logan had his fair share of rage.
When he arrived at the mansion all those years ago, fresh faced and wild, you had adored him even then, though Logan was far too preoccupied with Jean to notice the torch you carried for him back then.
It was ironic that It had taken the utter annihilation of the X-Men to bring you together. Charles’ accident had left the two of you as sole survivors. Over the years in hiding your ability to mould force fields managed to keep the worst of the effects of Charles’ seizures at bay, but Charles Xavier was one of the most powerful telepaths to grace the earth and your powers had limits.
Those years were some of the darkest and yet the best of your life, you found yourself growing to love the man the world called The Wolverine.
You realise you’ve entirely tuned out Wade’s rousing speech and have spent the time analysing the man wearing your love’s face currently gargling bourbon though your name pulls you out of your reverie.
“Laura, Y/N? What’s it gonna’ be girlies?”
“Lets fucking go.” Laura agrees heartily, you simply nod still dazed.
“YES! LET’S FUCKING GO!” Wade shouts back fist pumping.
“You’re all fucking dead.”
Much later in the evening when the sun has finally set you seek him out. When you come across the father and daughter duo before the campfire you hold back, your skin slowly begins reflecting light, fading from vision as you call upon your powers to hide in the treeline.
They both needed this and it wasn’t something you were about to get in the way of. They talk for a little while, before they part ways, both a little teary. Laura nods your way despite being unable to see you as she heads back to the cave, her nose just as keen as her fathers.
So it shouldn’t surprise you a few moments later when you hear Logan's voice call across the clearing.
“You gonna’ stand there all night, Bub?” The man sounds utterly exhausted.
You say nothing in response, only dismissing your powers and revealing yourself as you advance. You take Laura’s seat at the fire, not quite having the courage to look at him just yet.
“You hear all that? Should mind your own damn business.” You remembered this Logan well, the one aching for a fight, desperate to shed his vulnerability and bloody his fists.
“I didn’t hear a thing, Logan.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, you haven’t had to gentle parent The Wolverine in a while but it’s like riding a bike. “I wanted to let the two of you talk, she needed it and I think maybe you did too.”
“What do you fuckin’ know.” He growls dismissively, swigging from his bottle of what now appears to be scotch. “You can skip the speech and go back up, I’m not looking for company.”
“I’m not here to tell you what to do, Logan.” Finally, you look away from the fire and find his eyes fixed on you, you swallow the lump in your throat before you speak. “I just wanted to see you.”
“See me?” He questions incredulously. “Well, keep the change, bub. Good night.”
Despite your smile at his words, you can’t help the tears that begin to cloud your eyes. Your mind and your heart have been locked in a constant battle since setting eyes on him. This man by all rights is Logan. The man you have mourned relentlessly and yet in every way that matters he isn’t.
“It’s like seeing a ghost.” Is the only explanation you can give him, his response is a stoic cheers with his bottle before he takes a deep gulp.
Finally either his curiosity or the alcohol gets the better of him as he questions. “You her Mother?”
“Yes and no.” His stare doesn’t leave your face as he waits for you to elaborate. “Her biological mother was a woman from Mexico City that the fuckers in the lab exploited, all we know is that she disappeared after giving birth. After … you … after everything that happened in North Dakota…” You trail off.
Your voice is suddenly thick and your words get stuck in your throat as you try to make them form. It's utterly embarrassing as you feel the traitor tears begin to form.
A bottle of Johnny Walker enters your field of vision from where you sit staring at your clasped hands in your lap. Startled, you glance up to find the Wolverine standing before you, casting an impossibly large shadow as he holds out the bottle.
You accept the offering from his gloved hand, your fingers grazing his in the transaction as you take a swig or two (or three) before passing it back. He looks thoughtful when he places his lips on the place where your own had just lingered, as he retakes his seat. With amber courage coursing your veins, you continue.
“She was all I had - if not for her, I-.” You wipe your nose, staring back into the fire. If it was a struggle to meet his eyes before, it was impossible for you now. “I just couldn’t see the point in being alive anymore if everything just slowly gets stripped away; the X-Men, then Charles and then Lo-”
You don’t know it, but you’re preaching to the fucking choir with your words. It was rare to find a soul, going through the exact same torture as yourself. Logan found himself softening to you, it was as involuntary as it was unwelcome, but he couldn’t help it as you described a battle so close to the one he fought daily.
“-she reminded me what I had to live for. Laura she is fierce and so fucking kind; she is everything I loved about him.” You cut your trauma dumping to a swift end as you remember yourself. “So no, to answer your question. I’m not her biological mother, but she’s my daughter in every way that counts.”
Silence reigns for a moment as neither one of you knows what to say to the other.
“You loved him?” Logan’s voice is deeper than before when he speaks the sentence. You raise your eyes from the fire to find his for the first time since you began monologuing. They’re filled with something you can’t quite name.
“I did.”
Logan seems to contemplate this, mulling it over as he continues drinking. Finally, he seems to reach some sort of conclusion. “You should get some sleep, big day for you tomorrow.”
“Can I stay here … with you for tonight?” The words slip out before you really even mean them to. Tomorrow you might be going to your death and the ghost of the love of your life is here alive and real, what do you really have to lose?
Logan does a double take, not quite expecting those to be the words that leave your lips. “I’m not him, Darlin’.”
“No, I suppose you’re not.” You sigh, “but could you please just hold me whilst I sleep, James?”
A huge part of you expects him to tell you to fuck off back to the cave and leave him to his booze fueled pity party. However, against all odds, he doesn’t do that.
Logan simply lifts the half full bottle of scotch to his lips and downs every last drop. He’s a little unsteady on his feet when finally he stands up to his full height and turns towards the blankets he’s laid out on the ground.
“Fuck it.” He growls and drops himself like a sack of potatoes onto the pile with little regard for his own body. You’ve certainly had nicer invitations into his bed but when he waves you over with a lazy gesture, you can’t help but hurry before he changes his mind.
Before you know it you’re tucked into Logan’s side. His gloved hand doesn’t quite seem to know where to go, more accustomed to brutality than tenderness these days as it hesitates for a moment suspended in the air. After some careful consideration he delicately places it on the dip in your waist securing you to him.
Logan’s breath is uneven, though he’s doing his best to seem unaffected by your closeness. It has been years since someone has touched him with such easy affection and the way your body curls around his own as if it was created to do just that is driving him crazy.
You are completely at ease with him, you trust him so entirely it almost breaks his fucking heart. Logan's stomach is heavy with something he can’t name, you fucking terrify him. Yet, he doesn’t move because you feel so fucking good as he holds you.
It's scary, you realise, how easy it would be to pretend this was your Logan as you melt into his embrace. He smells exactly the same as you bury your face in his neck, the roughness of his beard feels the same pressed against your forehead.
This Wolverine’s arms are a little fuller and his chest a little firmer, but he still holds you the same. You make a decision to not focus on such difficult philosophical concepts as variants and the morality of switching out your Wolverine. You decide to live in the moment, to just enjoy the furnace of his body keeping you warm and his arm encircling your waist protecting you from the world, it’s so easy to pretend that this was your Logan, so you do.
And you fall asleep quicker than you have in years.
It is still night when you awaken, it's not quite dawn but the fire has burned out to a low smoulder. You’re not sure what has awoken you from the best sleep you’ve had in a long while, that is until you feel the arms wrapped around you and the sleeping Wolverine holding you in a death grip against his chest, his half hard appendage digging into your hip.
Everything is still hazy; you’re floating in that sweet spot between waking and dreaming, you forget about North Dakota and, god forgive me, Laura.
You’re back in your bed at home and Logan is holding you.
There's no my logan, new logan, old logan.
He’s just Logan.
You bury yourself deeper in his neck.
It’s only for a moment though before it all comes flooding back and the agony overwhelms you like a blade to the gut.
Instantly tears flood your cheeks as you shake from your silent sobs.
“...Y/N?” Logan's voice is thick with confusion and sleep, his grip has loosened somewhat to allow you to breathe but he doesn’t release his hold on you. “What’s wrong darlin’?”
That affectionate name is the last nail in the coffin it fucking ends you.
All teary, and regrettably maybe a teensy bit snotty, you lean forward and kiss him. Kiss isn’t the right word but it’s your intention. Your lips touch one anothers before he’s pulling away and holding you back.
“Y/n… Darlin’ you don’t want this… I’m not-”
“But you are Logan. You’re him just as much as he’s you.” Your hands rise to his jaw, running your finger along its familiar sharp edge. “You’re Logan.”
“Y/N… I’d be taking advantage…” His voice is firm yet gruff as he tries to inject reason into the conversation. As usual being the good guy he’s constantly telling everyone he’s not.
“I am so goddamn sick and tired of being sad, please Logan.” This time when you capture his lips, he doesn’t rear back. You’re not sure what’s going through his mind, but his self control seems to snap within him as he begins returning the kiss in earnest.
Logan’s tongue swipes along your bottom lip begging entry, entry you swiftly allow. You’re breathing heavily through your nose as he plunders the depths of your mouth, exploring your mouth with his quick tongue.
Deciding to make the next move you push yourself up, throwing a leg over him to straddle his lower stomach. He’s lifted the top half of his body to ensure he doesn’t lose your mouth, your teeth clash slightly with the movement and you can’t help a bubble of nervous laughter. He pays it little mind though as he swallows the noise, his hands coming to rest on your hips.
Instantly, you grind your hips downward on the growing bulge that lurks below. Logan lets out a deep groan at the friction and his hands on your hips raise to the bottom of your tee in response, his thick hands tugging at it requesting your permission.
Nodding, you pull back causing him to groan at the loss of your hot mouth on his. Though it's only for a moment as the second the tee is over your head, he’s back on you, only it's your bare neck he’s lashing with affection now.
Logan breathes in deep your scent mixing with the heady aroma of your arousal. He’s nipping and licking along the smooth skin, soothing his bites as quickly he makes them. It's the animal instinct within him, telling him to devour you entirely; make you his.
“Logan…” You gasp, your eyes are clenched shut in pleasure as he bucks his hips upwards into your jean covered centre.
Logan pulls back to take you in, writhing above him in the moonlight, you’re fucking beautiful, though the flash of familiar metal between your breasts catches his eye, unable to stop himself, he catches it in his fist.
Dog tags; his old dog tags.
‘LOGAN’ is etched into the aged metal and they’re warm to the touch from living beneath your shirt over your heart.
The realisation hits him like a freight train, not only was he loved by you, but for his other self to have given you these, he fucking loved you.
He’s not sure why it didn’t occur to him before, that the other him was as devoted to you as you were to him. He’s not entirely sure how to feel about it, but he twists his hands, careful not to snap the metal string, but using it to pull you close.
For the other dead Logan, the hero he’s heard so goddamn much about, he decides he’ll give you the treatment you deserve.
As if you weigh nothing at all he flips you onto your back, his hands dropping the dog tags and falling to the waistband of your jeans. His dexterous hands undo the button so quickly, that your trousers are peeled from your legs before you know it, leaving you in an unimpressive unmatching set of underwear beneath his roaming eyes. Though Logan couldn’t give a fuck as he groans at the sight of your body exposed to him.
Logan begins by kissing down your stomach before his hands linger on your black panties, he can't help but grin at the tiny barely there bow in the middle of them; you’re like a gift all wrapped up for him.
His eyes lift to meet your own as he begins sucking at the fabric that's keeping your pussy from him, it's already damp with your arousal and by the time he finishes, absolutely sodden with his saliva.
“Logan, please…” you whisper desperately as your hands find his ‘tufts’ for a lack of a better word. They were new, but you liked them, plus they now seemed pretty functional.
He takes only a moment to remove his gloves, before they return eagerly to your body. Those thick hands traverse the planes of your thighs, they’re quick in their passing as they make their way up to the waistband of your panties, he hooks them over his thumb and reveals your soaking core to his hungry eyes and he’s right back to wanting to fucking devour you, and boy, fucking does he.
Enthusiastic, would be the word, earth-shattering would be another - the word to describe how Logan eats pussy.
Logan without much preamble dives into your centre, his tongue slips into your hot wet heat, lingering for a moment on your clit, circling it reverently before he dips that talented tongue inside of you. His nose knocks against your clit several times, each more delicious than the last as he utterly devours your pussy. He moans, grinding his hips into the dirt and readjusts pulling you closer, his thick muscled arms locking under your thighs as you buck against his mouth.
You're a complete goner the second he slips a single long thick finger inside of you.
“Fuck, Lo, I’m gonna-”
“Come, baby... I got’ya.” He mumbles into your pussy. And fuck me, he does. He carries on lapping at you all the way through your orgasm, drawing it out of you like the pied fucking piper of pussy. It feels like you’ve been falling for hours by the time you finally come down, only Logan doesn’t allow you any reprieve before he’s back to lashing your clit with his quick tongue. Your hands find those faux ear tufts once more and he groans as you pull on them a little more sharply than you intend in your shock, in answer Two fingers bury themselves deep inside of you.
“One more.” He’s negotiating orgasms, but you have no qualms as he rubs his nose side to side with affection against your sensitive bud. His tongue and nose moving in pace with his fingers, currently fucking in and out of you.
It's when he scissors those thick long fingers inside of you, hitting that spongy spot within you that makes your back arch.
Your top half has left the ground, he grunts in annoyance, suspending your hips back to his mouth at the angle he likes. Those deep hazel eyes meet yours from between your thighs, crazed and animalistic, driven wild with arousal as he eats your pussy with gusto.
It's that image that thrusts you over the edge once more, your back hitting the ground as your body seizes, thrusting your hips against his mouth.
Without any preamble a third finger joins stretching you deliciously. The hand not currently fucking you, leaves your hip to caress your stomach stroking the flesh there, not quite able to reach your breast.
“Lo… fuck… yes… right… right fucking there.” You cry as he draws your second orgasm of the night out, only when you tug at his tuft due to overstimulation does he acquiesce and pull back, only of course, after cleaning up your gaping desperate hole.
He sucks his fingers clean as he sits back on his knees, his cock thick and tenting against the yellow bottoms of his suit. Your arousal has soaked through his beard making his chin slick, he wipes it with a single swipe with the back of hand though, it does very little for his sodden chin.
Tired of not touching him, you sit forward grabbing at his belt. It's a difficult contraption that confounds you, though Logan is far too wound up to find any humour from it.
He replaces your hands unbuckling the thing before finding the hem of his shirt and pulling it over his head.
There, finally in all his glory, he is exposed to you and you’ve never been a religious woman, but Mary mother of fucking christ, he is gorgeous. Logan’s chest is fucking… transcendant to behold, it's like he’s been sculpted by god herself, the light isn’t the best out of here, but you hope to god you don’t die tomorrow simply for wanting to take your time and lick each and every single one of those muscles on his stomach.
Its your turn to leap forward onto your knees and join his mouth with yours, he tastes distinctly of you and his chin is still sodden, but you couldn’t give less of a fuck, you love the fact your desire is still marking his skin.
Your hands trace the firm abs at your disposal, before dipping into his now open trousers and underwear to find him rock hard.
If his physique impressed you, you had a big storm coming, because his cock was a fucking resplendant beauty and it was plain to see from the swelling Logan really liked eating pussy.
Your fingers barely touched as you pumped him, once twice, spreading the copious amounts of precum along his shaft.
“Fuck.” He grunts into your mouth. You lean down, positioning yourself to take him in your mouth, though he stops you in your tracks grabbing your shoulder. “No sweetheart, I want your pussy.” You clench around nothing at his filthy words, this man will be the fucking death of you.
You reach behind you and free your tits from their confines, another moan leaves his throat as he pushes you backwards. On his hands and knees he’s deliberate with every move as kicks the bottoms of his suit off as he prowls towards you.
Finally, he’s in between your legs naked as the day he was born. His hands are on your breasts, exploring the new plains exposed to him, playing with your nipples alternating between sucking and twirling them between his fingers.
So lost in his skilled hands, you barely notice when one disappears to line himself up, it's a shock, the sudden intrusion, but not an unwelcome one as he thrusts himself forward and as deep as he can go.
You moan his name into his ear, doing your best to keep your volume down.
He has prepared you well, you’re so worked up that he slides home through your tight slit. The sheer size of him means it's a stretch that borders on uncomfortable, but the second his hand finds your clit you’re clenching around him and grinding forward, desperate for more. Unable to control himself, his claws extend, he grunts pulling you close and thrusting them down into the ground.
“Fuck, you’re tight.” He grunts into your neck, where he's busy lavishing the flesh once again with bites. Your neck is going to be black and blue tomorrow, but you can’t find it in you to give a single fuck.
The two of you are so fucking close his bare skin so deliciously hot against your own, but you want more, you need more.
Logan pulls his hips backwards, pulling out of you until only the tip remains before slamming home and spearing you wide open his cock. Your moans blend together as you lose yourself in each other's bodies.
Logan is worked up from eating your cunt, so it doesn’t take long for the sensation to hit him.
“Fuck, where do you want it?” He grunts into your neck, as his hand descends to rub quick circles on your clit. He pulls your ass up, making sure to hit the spot inside of you that makes your toes curl.
You know he’s teetering on the edge, desperate to make you cum before he does.
“Inside - come inside me, baby.” You whimper into his neck as he pounds into you reaching your deepest recesses with his thick cock, his hammering, it’s unforgiving with his enhanced strength but it pushes him deeper into spots you couldn’t have imagined. He groans at your words, sounding every bit the wounded animal he is. Your shared groans and the sound of his balls slapping against your ass as he takes you again, and again is all that can be heard in the clearing.
Finally as he joins your lips in a kiss, you come hard on his cock. Clenching around him as your body writhes uncontrollably.
Logan adjusts his hold on your thighs, now he uses your body, drawing out your pleasure but ultimately chasing his own. The pace is fast as he grunts and groans erotically into your neck, he fucking growls as his hips stutter against your own, and you know you should be more careful, but the thought of him cumming inside you has you gripping his cock like a vice once more. You give him a tight sheath to come in, and he pumps you fucking full of his cum and its a big fucking load. Logan thrusts a few more times, pushing his seed deep inside of you as he claims your mouth once more.
You run your hands through his hair as he lets his body fall against yours, he’s supporting his own weight, thank god, you don’t think you could handle his muscle, let alone the adamantium skeleton. He’s still sheathed inside you as the two of you revel in the closeness.
The silence stretches on for an amount of time you can’t quite quantify. The two of you take in your surroundings, listening to the quiet of the forest, until your breathing has finally calmed down.
Logan lifts himself up on one arm, and pushes your hair back from your face. You stare at him in the moonlight for a long moment, unable to help yourself as you trace his familiar features. His strong nose and the curve of his brow, your finger dances along his flesh.
Logan’s eyes close, so touch starved he basks in your affection.
“I-” Logan goes to speak, before you drop your finger on his lips.
“It’s okay. Whatever happens tomorrow, happens. I’m okay with it.” You smile at him, there's a chill to the air but you’ve got your Wolverine warming you up. “I just wanted one night to be about something other than death.”
He takes your hand from his lips and kisses along the back of it and up your wrist, though It's a slippery slope as he hardens inside of you again.
Logan manages to pull two more orgasms out of you before dawn.
When your time has run out, the two of you finally dress, not wanting to be found in a compromising position. Logan curls his body around yours and buries his face in your hair as he spoons you from behind.
Just when you’re just on the cusp of sleep, he finally speaks into the night. Logan opens up about his world tearfully, instantly you reach your hand down, finding his own thicker one resting on your belly and you intertwine your fingers with his. He tells you of the mutant hunting as you draw comforting circles on the back of his hand, it's not much, but it's more than he’s ever had whilst reliving his worst day. When he has finally bared his soul, the two of you fall back into silence.
After what has been an emotionally, not to mention physically taxing night the two of you finally fall asleep if only for a few more hours, two incredibly damaged souls offering one another comfort.
It’s later in the morning when you finally awake. The sun has risen that much is clear but you're slow to awaken from your comfortable position in Logan's arms, his warm strong body coiled against your back fighting off the worst of the early morning chill, his face still buried in your hair as he snores peacefully.
There’s a sensation niggling at you, you think it's what woke you up in the first place; you can’t shake the sensation of being watched.
Lazily you open your eyes, only for your heart to drop to your asshole when you find Wade Wilson about 10-inches from your face lying on his side, his head supported by his hand.
“Mornin’ sleepy head, have a good night?” You can hear the smile in his voice.
“AGH!” Unable to stop both your cry of fear and your fight or flight response in progress, you throw yourself backwards, your powers activating of their own accord, and slamming your body into Logan’s chest. He startles awake, with the telltale ‘snikt’ of his claws extending as he orientates himself, his arm coming out to block you from the threat, despite not being able to see you.
After your brain catches up, you call your power back, but Logan doesn’t do the same, keeping his claws out seemingly ready to slice up his not-so-best friend.
“Get the fuck outta’ here, Wade.” Logan growls harshly at the other man, his voice is filled to the brim with hatred.
“Hmph - this is what I get for acting altruistically. I thought a good stress relieving bone in the woods with your cherie amour would really sort out that bee in your bonnet, but you sir are just a very unpleasant man and I’m worried that-”
“WADE.” This time Logan’s voice is a threat as he shouts at the man. You place a hand on his muscled arm to steady him. Though he may have stopped your heart with his antics, Wade isn’t doing anything particularly outrageous. Logan shakes your hand from his arm and allows his claws to retract as he stands.
“Thanks for jumping to my defence there, Y/N. Great to meetcha bt-dubs, huge fan.” You’re disoriented from the wakeup call but you shake the hand he offers you. Honestly, you’re still trying to process the head-fuckery of the past day, so you don’t have a quick response for him, though the mouth doesn’t seem to mind as he continues. “That mean lil’ lady is asking for ya’. Thought I’d come and check you and big yellow weren’t still bumpin’ uglies. Didn’t want her to see you and Papa going to town on each other's fun parts.”
“Uh - Thanks… Wade?”
“That’s me.” He theatrically begins bestowing multiple kisses on the back of your hand he still had in his grasp, which you retract gently. “Oh, and we’re done.”
Pushing yourself up, you go to stand though Logan offers you his newly gloved palm. You lock your fingers around his and the two of you stand together, inches apart and your fingers still intertwined, neither quite sure what to say to the other. Wade’s ‘awh’ over your shoulder shatters the moment and he drops your hand instantaneously.
After a beat or two Logan leans forward, placing a single solitary kiss on your forehead. “See ya’ around, bub.”
“Where’s my smooch, Logie-bear?”
“Go fuck yourself, Wade.” He calls as he walks around, Logan doesn’t look back as he heads off into the forest.
You still had faith he’d turn up for the fight, Logan always turned up when it counted and you knew this time would be no different.
“Hate to see him leave, but love to watch him go.” Wade sighs linking his arm with yours.
“Mmh, You can say that again.” You agree with the clown watching Logan’s ass as he walks away, you swear you see his step falter thanks to his impeccable hearing, but he doesn’t turn back.
The two of you turn and you begin walking back to the cave arm in arm with the strange man to prepare for the assault on Cassandra’s lair when Wade finally asks the question you know he’s been dying to ask since meeting you “So, Y/N just between us girls… how big is it?”
LOGAN TENDER HAIR TUCK SUPREMACY RISE. I'll use it in every fic, don't think I won't.
Thanks for reading xxx
Graphics by my pal - @saradika-graphics 💕
𝑻𝑹 𝑴𝑬𝑵 𝑨𝑵𝑫 𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑰𝑹 𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑽𝒀 𝑩𝑨𝑳𝑳𝑺
— Ken ‘Draken’ Ryuguji, Manjiro ‘Mikey’ Sano, Haruchiyo ‘Sanzu’ Akashi, Hajime Kokonoi, Takashi Mitsuya x f!reader
cw. breeding kink, creampie, mating press, doggy, choking, deepthroating, praising, cum eating, overstim, spanking (1) — rbs are appreciated — m.list
KEN ‘DRAKEN’ RYUGUJI
“I’m so full today” Draken moans as a fourth load fills your cunt.
You can’t focus on his words, not when his fingers move so perfectly over your nub, ripping you orgasm after orgasm, your legs shaking on his shoulders.
Your pussy flutters around his shaft and you feel heavy as Draken begins to fuck his cum into you, his heavy balls slamming into your ass again and again.
A ring of cum surrounding his cock gets thicker as his hips slam into yours, “fill m-me up a-again” you stammer bringing a hand to your wet folds and opening to let him watch as your messy cunt swallows his cock.
“Fuck angel” his breaths become labored as he presses your knees to the mattress, “are you ready for another load?” his voice and dirty talk make you arch your back, ready to take in all he has to offer you.
Keep reading
coworker!touya who works with you at a shitty coffee shop that gets no traction whatsoever, its amazing how you still have a job. he suspects it must be some sort of money laundering front, but he’s never really cared enough to look into it.
with around less than ten employees total, the slow business allowed you to really get to know who you were working with. especially when shifts only consist of him and one other person.
coworker!touya who makes sure that one other person on the closing shifts with him is you. its not that hard; all he had to do was bother manager!shigaraki about it because he doesn't give a shit about this place either. he's pretty sure he's just working there because he's the son of the owner or something.
coworker!touya who finds one of only perks of working this part-time job (aside from seeing you) was the complete control over the music playing his entire shift. since the cafe is so dead most of the time, even more so working closing shifts, you find yourself talking to him a lot to fill up dead time. you both gossip about coworker drama, he tells you about the album currently playing on the speakers, you remedy him with little stories from your personal life. its comfortable.
coworker!touya who almost walks in the shop to start his shift one day, but stops himself when he looks through the glass window to find you behind the counter dancing with toga to a song you both have the lyrics memorized. he ruins the moment once he steps in and the bell above him dings, leaving you and toga snapped back into customer service mode (until you both realize it's just him). he bites back a smile thinking about how cute you looked jumping around behind the counter.
coworker!touya who doesn’t take the aux that day, letting you have control of the music (very generous of him. he knows). he pays extra attention to your constant humming and the way you let yourself dance to yourself when you think he’s not looking. he sneaks glances at certain songs you seem to like the most and add them to his work playlist as well. he likes seeing the extra buzz it gives you brighten up the already dull shop.
coworker!touya who decides the real perk of working this shitty cafe job was the fact that you have complete control of the music playing his entire shift.
PAIRING atsumu miya x f!reader WORD COUNT 5k CONTENT CONTAINS illusions to excessive alcohol consumption, very subtly hinted drug abuse (not from reader or atsumu)
SYNOPSIS finding out that his hot supermodel girlfriend is dumping him for some baseball player? that sucks. finding out via her red carpet debut with her new man as her plus one? sucks a bit more. having this happen to him the same day he just lost the last game of the season? yeah, it’s starting to feel like the universe has it out for him at this point, right? but atsumu miya is nothing if not petty, childish, and immature. he’ll get back at her. after all, there’s a secret dating app created by publicists and agents that pair up perfect matches for brightening up any celebrity’s public image. all atsumu has to do is pay a pretty sum of money to convince the media (and mainly his ex) that atsumu miya is still on top of the world and living his best life with the best (albeit, fake) girlfriend ever.
unfortunately for him, his perfect match just so happens to be you — his first girlfriend, his highschool sweetheart turned sour, and the first girl who ever broke his heart.
you know what they say: when it rains, it pours.
SERIES MASTERLIST
Keep reading