So, This Is Love. This.

Inspired by @//wake-uptoreality!!

I can't find the artist of these adorable images so plzzz tell if you know <//3

• Kaeya, Itto

•Aether, Thoma, Venti, Gorou, Bennett

•Zhongli, Kazuha, Diluc, Xiao, Albedo, Razor, Chongyun

•Ayato, Childe, Heizou, Xingqui

I love them 🥺🥺✨

Tokyo revengers low quality manga pannels <333

the boyfriendification of ran haitani

a/n: 18+!!!! nsfw!!! this is exactly what it sounds like. i've been trying to write this for DAYS and HERE SHE IS tbh i could've gone on forever ran has moved into my brain and is living completely rent free please somebody get him OUT of there!!!

content: alcohol / drinking, smoking, fingering, nipple play, spanking, sex!!, maybe a little bit of misogyny? kinda?? some of the boys sanzu talk about girls a little crazy oy

word count: 7,114

it wasn’t the first time you’d been to octagon. your friends had dragged you to the fancy, new nightclub downtown for its opening weekend and had fallen in love with the gaudy atmosphere. they had gotten into the habit of splurging on a night out there whenever one of you was in need of a pick-me-up. a pick-me-up in the form of a lux night surrounded by rich assholes, bottle service, and flashing lights, of course. so no, it wasn't your first time at octagon, but it was, however, the first time you’d been bent over the counter top in its single stall bathroom while a gorgeous stranger took you from behind. definitely a first.

from the moment he'd locked eyes with you from his table across the dance floor, you wanted him. you had found him incredibly handsome, especially compared to the usual slimeballs that frequented the place. it wasn't a secret that most men went to octagon with the hope of their private table and bottle upon bottle of top shelf liquor being enough to win the attention and company of beautiful women, regardless of how old or gross they were themselves.

ran haitani was neither old nor gross. he seemed to be in his late twenties, tall and slim, with a cigarette danging from his lips. he held himself in a way that said i know i'm better than everyone here and it is fucking hilarious. he had an amused look on his sharp, angular face that never seemed to shake. he watched you with calculating eyes, as if deciding if you were worth the chase. and you were enough shots into the night that you decided to flirt and wink back at him, shaking your ass in his direction for just a moment before turning back to your friends to tease him. when two enormous hands firmly gripped your waist, you knew it was him. you allowed him to run his greedy hands up and down your sides, arousal beginning to pool in your panties as he danced closer to you. as you arched your back, you were met with the feeling of his hard cock pressing into your ass while those massive hands pulled you flush against him. the size of him nearly made your mouth water. it wasn’t much longer before his whiskey scented breath was hot at your cheek, a sensual rumble of a voice tickling your ear, “can we go somewhere to be alone?”

next thing you knew, you were locked in the bathroom, stuffed full of this man’s veiny length. one of his hands had tightened around your throat. the other came down onto your ass cheek with a sharp slap every so often, making you yelp. you could barely hear your own cries of pleasure over the booming bass of the dance music just outside the door. ran was pounding into you at a pace that made your legs wobble. thankfully, he had you pressed against the counter with a hand gripping your hip for support. the hand around your neck released to take a fist full of your hair and drag you up against his chest. “you’re so fucking tight,” he growls in your ear. “how’d i get this lucky? didn’t even wanna go out tonight but here i am with this tight fucking pussy squeezing the shit out of my dick.” you can’t take your eyes off the pornographic scene taking place in the mirror in front of you as he continues thrusting up into you.

ran is watching too, and he's desperate to see more of you. he uses his free hand to hike your dress up even higher until it’s bunched up at your stomach. you're completely exposed, tits bouncing freely, soiled panties pushed aside to make way for the intrusion into your slick heat. his size is making it impossible to stay quiet. you’re moaning and whimpering with every thrust as the head of his thick cock bruises your cervix. the pain and pleasure have become one and between that and the alcohol you’re feeling like you’re floating.

the way you’re wrapped so tightly around him, pussy swallowing him up completely and dragging him back in each time he pulls almost all the way out of you, ran can't get enough. he’s watching you hungrily as your mouth hangs open, a constant string of curse words and cries streaming out. his eyes lock onto the place where he’s disappearing inside you, the place dripping with your arousal and making a mess all down your thighs and onto his dark pants.

"tell me how good you feel, baby," his face is next to yours, talking to your reflection in the mirror. "s-so good," you sputter. sweat and tears have ruined your makeup and you look absolutely wrecked. it's fuckin beautiful, ran thinks. "lemme hear youuu," he whines, grin only growing. "come onnn. tell me you love this." "i love it, i really love it, fuck." it's not a lie, either. you can't remember ever being fucked like this in your entire life. he's hitting deeper than any guy you've ever been with, and with a girth that's stretching you to the point of almost being painful. but you love it, you really do.

you watch in silent desperation as one of his hands starts to snake down your thigh, long fingers beginning to circle your clit. the added stimulation has you screaming, orgasm approaching like a bullet train. "scream my fuckin name," he orders, teasing voice taking on just a hint of sternness. "ran."

you did as you were told, repeating his name over and over, louder and louder, drowning out the sound of his balls slapping against you, nearly matching the volume of the music outside. "that's right," he laughs, fingers speeding up as he feels your walls tense around him. "cum on this cock, gorgeous. let me hear you." you do, hard, eyes practically rolling back in your head. you cry out his name just as he had told you to, a few swears following as his hands grab onto your waist and starts forcing your hips down to meet his thrusts. he's groaning now, the way your orgasm has you fluttering around him bringing on his own orgasm. you feel the heat as he fills the condom deep inside you, arms caging you in as he grips the counter for support. he bucks his hips up a couple more times– both of you making desperate sounds at the overstimulation– and pulls out. he trashes the condom and tucks himself back into his boxers.

your knees threaten to buckle under you so you turn quickly to lean back against the counter for support. he laughs, leaning close to kiss you for what feels like the very first time that night. it's sloppy and a little rough, tasting like whiskey and cigarettes, but for some reason it exhilarates you. he pulls away and cocks his head to one side.

"what's your name, pretty little thing?"

you tell him and he grins, repeating it back to you slowly, savoring each sound. "you have got the absolute tightest, juiciest pussy i've ever put my dick in."

you wince a bit at his lewd words and how casually he's said them. you mumble a slightly sarcastic thanks and start to adjust your clothes, pulling the straps of your dress back over your shoulders, tugging the hem down to where it belongs. he watches you with amusement, that same smirk still on his lips. you wet a paper towel and lean in close to the mirror to try and wipe away your smudged makeup. when you turn back to ran you see him slipping your phone into your purse.

"hey!" you startle him but he just as quickly regains his usual expression. "what are you–"

"i'd really like to do this again," he cuts you off, checking something on his own phone with a satisfied smile. "pleasure meeting you." he tips your head up and kisses you once. you watch in stunned silence as he unlocks the bathroom door and exits. you catch a glimpse of a line that has formed just outside.

"oh, you've gotta be fucking kidding me," a voice groans seeing ran exit.

"someone sounds jealous!" a laugh follows ran's words.

when the door shuts again, you lock it quickly and pull your phone from your bag to see what he'd done. your screen lights up revealing that he had sent a text, presumably to himself. the message simply reads, "best fuck i've ever had"

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despite sending it to himself, it's weeks before ran uses your number. you had almost started to believe he would never actually text. which wasn't the worst thing in the world. sure, it had actually been the best fuck of your life, but you had decided that fucking strangers wasn't something you were into anymore. shortly after you'd met ran, you'd hooked up with a friend of a friend after a night out, and it had been one of the least sexy encounters you'd ever had. and then, a few weeks after that, sex with a guy from a dating app had ended with him crying on top of you, realizing he wasn't over his ex. yeah, hooking up with strangers was proving to be a dead end.

you were confident in your decision to stay away from all that. even when a text came through from an unsaved number, the only other message ever exchanged with it being best fuck i've ever had. ran.

remember me? :)

you stare at the message for a few seconds and locked your phone. you had just sat down in the corner of your favorite cafe with a latte and your laptop to get some work done and you weren't going to let mr. best fuck i've ever had derail your productive morning.

ignoring me? my feelings are hurt!

the message alarms you just a little. but before you can wonder how he knew you were ignoring him intentionally, you receive another text.

mind if i join you?

you look up as a looming presence arrives at the seat across from you. it's ran, looking just as you remember, maybe even more handsome than in your memory, now that you were looking at him with sober eyes. "so?" he smirks, quirking an eyebrow. you nod, motioning politely to the chair and he sits.

he's wearing a suit, or half of one. he's got on a crisp white button down and slacks with the jacket slung over his arm. the clothes fit him perfectly, every stitch and fold falling just where it should as if they were tailored just for him. which they probably were. over the collar of his shirt peeks the top of a tattoo that adorns his throat. you wonder why you hadn't noticed it back at the club. it was pretty hard to focus on anything other than his cock. you banish the thought from your mind. that was behind you. with his polished appearance, his hidden tattoos, and knowing smile, ran exudes an overwhelming aura of power and wealth. it's a bit intimidating.

"fuck, do i feel lucky to have run into you," he settles back in his chair, eyeing you mischievously. "what are you working on?" you notice his gaze on your laptop. "emails," you say simply, stupidly. he's hard to have a conversation with, you can't stop thinking about that word: intimidating.

"nothing urgent, i hope?" he sips his coffee, deep violet eyes flickering, hinting that there was more to the question.

you just stare back at him, waiting for it. "if you're free, why don't you come back to my place? it's really close to here."

"i'm not free," you reply evenly. "i told you, i'm working."

"oh, come on," he rolls his eyes petulantly. "you'd rather send emails than come with me and get the best dick of your life again?" you look away from him and open your computer, "sorry, i'm not interested."

he shuts your laptop with one large hand, leaning across the table toward you, "i don't believe you." his tone is still pleasant and lighthearted as it seems to always be, but he's clearly not used to hearing an answer that isn't yes. "you were begging for me at the club. don't you remember?"

"i do but–" you open your computer again and he shuts it abruptly. "i'm really not like that."

“like what?" his tone is changing, it's patronizing, belittling, an attempt to coax a yes out of you. "a horny little slut telling me how much she loved getting her tight fuckin hole filled in the bathroom of that club?”

"you got lucky," you bite back. "we're not in a club, now. i'm not fucked up, and i'm not just hooking up with you because you look good in a suit."

"you think i look good?" his smile grows, mocking.

“whatever, ran," you start to collect your things, suddenly frustrated. he'd shown up and interrupted your day, expecting you to just drop everything to go fuck him. not this time. "think what you want, but if you're really trying to fill this tight little hole again, it definitely won’t be like this.” you turn to walk away leaving him completely stunned and surprisingly aroused...

you're just starting down the sidewalk outside when the bell on the cafe's door chimes again behind you. ran's hand circles your wrist and pulls you to a stop abruptly. he turns you toward him.

"fine," his jaw is tight. "i'll play along. what do you want me to do? get you fuckin flowers or some shit?"

it's your turn to feel smug. as powerful as he seemed, as he carried himself to appear, there had clearly been a shift in the dynamic. the subtle annoyance you'd caused in the world's most easygoing man was thrilling. you felt like the ball was suddenly in your court.

"let’s get dinner."

"buy me dinner first," he mocks, putting on a high pitched voice.

"you’re the one begging to fuck me," you remind him sharply.

he quiets. “fine."

you're shocked he's agreed but try not to show it on your face.

"8?" he continues. "i’ll pick you up."

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the sight outside your apartment stuns you into silence. ran, dressed in a dress shirt and slacks, the shirt looser and more stylish than the one he'd had on at the coffee shop, smoking a cigarette leaned against the hood of his car. with the first few buttons of his shirt undone you can see his tattoo clearly. just below his collarbone are a few dark swirls of ink, telling you there are more tattoos on his chest. you briefly wonder what they look like, what they mean.

he flicks his cigarette butt into the gutter before his eyes come to rest on you as you approach. the corner of his mouth curls up in a grin but he says nothing. "i didn't expect you to drive a batmobile," you say simply, gesturing to the sleek black car. ran laughs, loose and genuine. the sound somehow calms your nerves. "it's a bugatti. batmobile prob'ly woulda been cheaper, though." you laugh, surprised at his humor. but much to your disappointment, the car ride that follows is relatively silent.

the restaurant ran has chosen is a steakhouse, one of the finest in the city you learn from a quick google search as you exit the car. he hands the keys to the valet and you can barely make out a whispered threat of what he'll do if anything happens to his precious car. you watch a wave of fear wash over the young man as ran claps him on the back dismissively. "you scared him," you frown. "good," ran says casually. "that car costs more than he'll make in his entire life." you call him a number of mean names in your head. great date so far.

ran gives his name at the front, the host looking just as fear stricken as the valet as he leads the two of you to a table in a bustling VIP room. you sit down, eyes flitting from table to table, observing the other kinds of people with the same reservation privileges as ran. older men and women in expensive suits and cocktail dresses laughing and drinking wine, middle aged business men celebrating closed deals, and a handful of other couples enjoying each other on dates. "i hope you eat meat," ran smiles briefly.

the rest of the night passes with no more than 20 words exchanged between you. your displeasure is growing with each time ran checks his watch or rolls his eyes at you. as your plates are cleared, ran refills both your glasses of wine. you've convinced yourself you're calling a taxi home after this glass. you'd enjoy an expensive meal paid for by this mysterious, exorbitantly rich man and leave with your dignity in tact. you weren't going home with him, not after this pitiful attempt at a date.

"somethin wrong?" he asks with a patronizing tilt of his head.

"no," you lean in. "just wondering why you're choosing to be so insufferable."

ran's eyes narrow the slightest bit, "what ever could you mean, darlin?"

"you're acting like a child. i get that getting to know someone before fucking them is a brand new concept to you, but it's what we agreed on–"

"i agreed to dinner," he corrects, raising his glass to his lips. you want to reach across the table and slap the grin from his face.

"right, a dinner so i could get to know you," you're speaking through gritted teeth. "that was my only request, because i don't want to fuck a stranger–"

"honey, you already fucked a stranger and, if i remember correctly, you fucking loved it."

you blink back at him making a move to grab your purse.

"aww, come on," he chuckles. the sound feels like a punch to the gut.

his hand closes around yours on the table, his grip almost too tight. you look up at him, ready to protest, when you see that his eyes are dark, warning you not to leave. "i'm sorry. really. put down your bag."

for the first time all night there's not a hint of teasing in his voice. the sudden authenticity startles you enough to keep you in your seat. your eyes can't seem to unglue themselves from his. you feel your hand release your clutch, shoulders relaxing. the remaining shred of control you'd felt earlier in the day was completely overwhelmed by his commanding gaze. the tone of the evening had shifted.

"what do you want to know about me?" he asks, his usual smile back on his lips. his hand is still holding yours, thumb stroking over the back delicately.

there are a million things you want to know, each question seeming more important than the one before it as they bubble in your brain. you decide on something simple.

"what's your last name?"

his smile widens, "good question, baby. haitani."

"and what do you do?"

instead of answering, he takes out his phone and unlocks it. he hands it over to you on a new internet tab, "google me."

you hesitate but he seems insistent. ran haitani. search.

the first thing to come up are pictures of him. paparazzi shots, professional headshots, press photos at company events, something resembling a mugshot.

under the pictures are a list of links to articles mentioning his name. you gulp, trying to conceal your reaction to the headlines, and probably doing a terrible job of it.

"bonten inc. executive ran haitani could face criminal charges"

"ran haitani: genius business mogul or nefarious mob boss?"

"police commissioner assures no links found between bonten inc. and citywide gang activity following investigation"

"haitani brothers acquitted of charges following month long trial"

your mind had chosen to analyze the new information quite calmly. he was an executive of a huge company. that explained the money, the clothes, the attitude. gang activity. criminal charges. mob boss. you remembered the look of terror in the faces of the valet and the restaurant host. now that you thought about it, you had even seen it from other patrons when they risked a peek over to your table.

blame it on being naive, but for some reason, you didn't feel afraid of him. you pass his phone back wordlessly, noticing how carefully he was watching your face for some kind of reaction. "learn anything good?" he asks, sliding the phone back into his pocket.

you nod, "you have a brother."

his brows draw together for a moment, scrutinizing your expressionless face. you barely last another moment before you both burst out laughing. ran isn't sure why your reaction has him feeling so delighted, but it does. googling his name had been meant as a mean trick, a surefire way to terrify you and run you out of the restaurant. so for you to react with a joke of your own... had he met his match? he feels his cock twitch in his tight pants.

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once all ran's cards are on the table, the whole night inexplicably shifts. you stay there much longer with him, actually talking, finishing the expensive bottle of wine he'd gotten together. a newfound passion seems to overtake ran as he tells you more about what he does (in slightly vague terms, for obvious reasons). even more surprising is how the things you tell him fascinate him, your world being so starkly different from his. it's intoxicating, the way you light up as you speak, hands gesturing and eyes sparkling. he thinks it's perfect that you work for a non-profit– something to do with helping kids in need– because after these few hours of being in your presence, he knows he'd donate millions if you asked.

"we should probably get going...?" you mumble when you notice that most of the diners have disappeared. ran feels a pang of disappointment, realizing the night may be nearing its end. what you see, though, is a casual smile and a nod as he stands up and offers you his arm. clinging to him, you let him lead you out of the restaurant. as you stand beside him waiting for the valet to get his car, he wraps his hand around yours wordlessly. the gesture is so small, so sweet, you wonder if he had even done it intentionally. nonetheless, you feel giddy, however out of character it was for him.

"how'd i do?" he asks quietly. you're not sure what to make of the question. "how was tonight?"

you try to hold back your smug smile. "well, you definitely don't feel like such a stranger anymore." he laughs, a soft exhale. you squeeze his hand to get him to look at you. "aren't you going to invite me back to your place?"

he gives in to the urge to kiss you, large hands cupping your cheeks, holding you in place as he bends to press his lips to yours. "you're a fuckin tease," he mumbles against your lips, making you giggle. "shut up and take me home," you smirk. the car pulls up and ran is feeling triumphant. he slaps a hundred dollar bill into the valet's hand, "thanks, man. g'night." the guy looks shocked to be receiving such a large bill, especially from someone who had threatened to gouge his eyes out with car keys just hours earlier.

"that was very generous," you note, once you're both inside the cavernous vehicle. "i'm in a good mood," he shrugs, smiling out at the road. the car zooms out of the parking lot with a roar, ran driving with one hand on the wheel and the other on your thigh.

as you pull through the guard gate and descend down the winding tunnel to the underground parking lot of ran's place, you start to giggle. ran glances over at you as you try to contain yourself. he gives your thigh a squeeze, "what's so funny?" you shake your head dismissively. pulling into his parking spot, he cuts the engine and turns to face you. another devilish giggle slips out and you know you have to spill.

sheepishly, you place your hand over his on your leg, tracing nervous circles onto the back of it. "fuck me here. in the batmobile."

"shit," ran snorts out a laugh, already pulling you over the center console and onto his lap. "whatever you say, baby."

as soon as you're straddling his hips, he slides the hem of your dress up your thighs, letting it bunch up at your hips and reveal your lacy black panties. "pretty," he grins, knuckles running over your clothed slit. "d'ya wear these just for me? pictured me taking em off you?" you whimper, already turned on by his feather-light touches and teasing words. as you fumble with ran's belt, his massive hands have each one of your tits in their grip, squeezing hard. "fuck," he breathes, finding the zipper at the nape of your neck and tugging it down. you slide your arms out of the straps so that ran can peel the bodice down toward your stomach, revealing your tits to him in their lacy confines. "look at these!" he sounds overjoyed, giving them another squeeze. he pulls the cups of your bra down at the same time. he meets your eyes before giving each of your nipples a firm pinch. you whimper, eyebrows furrowing. "aww, sensitive, huh?" he fakes sympathy, pinching again, harder. he rolls the hardening buds between his thumbs and forefingers, "i feel fucking cheated. i didn't get to play with these gorgeous tits last time. what do you have to say for yourself, hmm?"

you moan as his lips wrap around one nipple, fingers twisting and rubbing the other. "s-sorry," you whine. "sorry's fuckin right," he says, mouth full of your breast. as he releases it with a wet pop to move to the other side, his hand comes up between your parted legs. as he suckles at your nipples, fingertips nudge themselves under the fabric of your underwear. "please. touch me." in response he presses his slender middle finger into your already dripping hole. a second finger follows closely after. his thumb presses down firmly on your clit, running over it slickly using the arousal that's leaking around his fingers and pooling into his palm. "you're fuckin filthy," ran's tone makes it sound like something between a praise and an insult. "listen to how wet you are already. you just love havin somethin fuckin in and outta this little cunt, huh?" you nod desperately, burying your face in his neck as the squelching sounds of his fingers in your pussy fill the car.

a sharp slap comes down on your ass cheek and knocks the wind out of you. "take my cock out, baby. want you to see how fuckin hard i am feelin you leakin all over my fuckin hand." you had almost forgotten you'd started to unbutton his pants, before he'd shoved his fingers into you, that is. he spanks you again and you yelp, "too hard!" he chuckles darkly, but still presses a kiss to your temple and mumbles out a "sorry, baby." you finally get his fly down and he lifts his hips to help you tug his pants and boxers down to his thighs. his cock stands upright, angry red tip resting against the firm muscles of his stomach. because he'd taken you from behind in the club, you hadn't actually gotten a good look at his member. the size of it was shocking. "it fit?" you ask in disbelief. he strokes your cheek, smiling at you with amusement, "'course it did. you were such a good girl for me. gonna be a good girl again?"

you respond by lifting your hips and positioning yourself over his length. your hands grip his shoulders for support. he holds your waist in one hand and the base of his cock in the other. he runs the tip between your lips a few times, your arousal coating the head and running down his shaft. finally, he pulls you down, tip pushing inside your clenching hole. the stretch is a million times more intense when you're on top, you decide. as ran sheaths himself inside you in one swift motion, you feel as if the air has been stolen from your lungs.

before you've caught your breath, he's lifting you back up and slamming you down again. you can't help the yells, whimpers, and moans that fill the tiny space around you two. you drop your head to his shoulder as he thrusts his hips up into you. he takes your tits into his mouth again, "fuckin obsessed with your body. you feel so good, baby." something possesses you to say it back, "fuckin obsessed with your cock." the words send him into a frenzy. his hips speed up, the sound of skin on skin getting louder and more frequent as he pistons into your hole. you cling to him, fingernails leaving crescent shapes where they've dug into his skin.

ran pants an order, "touch yourself. wanna feel you cum on my cock." your fingers rub around your clit, bringing you even closer to the edge. "fuck, ran," you whimper, all the sensations becoming too much. "louder." "ran! fuck, oh my god, ran!"

you see stars as your high hits like a freight train. you're barely aware of how tightly your walls have clenched around ran, how they've drawn out his release, milking him of every last drop. he makes no move to pull out, simply lets himself soften while buried deep within your cunt. but you wiggle your hips, too sensitive to have him there much longer. "tsk," he shakes his head in fake disappointment and lifts you off of him. he keeps you in his lap, though, wrapped up in his long arms. he reaches into the back seat, grabbing the suit jacket he'd had on earlier in the day. you almost blush as he drapes it over your shoulders. you kiss him in thanks. the kiss turns into a few more kisses and soon you're straddling him again, looking into his face.

"was it really so bad?" you ask, teasing. "going on a date?" he lets his head loll back as your lips leave a trail of kisses from his collarbone up to his jaw. "not bad with you," he turns his head and catches your lips with his. he grips your ass in his hands to pull you closer. "and not after this." "worth it, right?" you giggle against his mouth. "i might even consider doing it again." your tiny gasp makes him laugh. "yeah, yeah," he chuckles. "whatever." cradling his face in your hands, you smile devilishly. "if you agree to another date, maybe we can go upstairs and do this again," you whisper in his ear. "fuck. deal."

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"alright," sanzu calls attention to himself, a bit too loudly as usual, as he walks into the room. "strip club. on west 44th street. i bought it."

"you said you would and you did," koko nods, impressed. "good for you."

"thank you!" the pink haired man points at his colleague triumphantly. "we're celebrating the new ownership tonight, and i want you all there. got it?" the other bonten execs agree, nodding or chiming in from around the room.

"ra-a-an," sanzu sing songs, noticing his colleague's lack of a response. "complimentary lap dance from the bitch with the tittie piercings if you show up tonight. i know she's your favorite."

"pass," ran calls around a cigarette, absorbed in whatever he was doing on his laptop.

"you can't pass, dick, it's a big night!" sanzu retorts, clearly offended.

"i'm seeing someone tonight."

rindou scoffs and ran throws him a look.

“you’re fuckin pussy whipped, idiot,” rin rolls his eyes.

"no way," sanzu scoffs. "no way you're seeing that same fuckin girl."

ran is silent, he continues trying to drown out sanzu's voice. the truth is, he was still seeing the same girl. it had been nearly four months since you and ran had met at the club and, as out of character as it was for him, he hadn't been with anyone else. hadn't even thought about it. he really didn't mind going on dates with you, enjoyed them even. in the last couple weeks he'd even started trying to choose some of the outings so you wouldn't have to plan them all. unlike most of his past flings, you were worth seeing again. and again, and again, and again. he liked being in your company, had grown to enjoy and long for the times you got to spend together, even fully clothed.

ran was definitely not "boyfriend material" in the traditional sense. he'd never considered that he could ever be a relationship guy. his job was dangerous and demanding. it ran the risk of pulling him away at a moment's notice and keeping him off the grid for long periods of time with no explanation. it had shaped him into the man you met at the club, a man of strip clubs, hookers, and, yes, getting his dick wet with random girls in club bathrooms.

with you, ran had it all. someone to confide in, someone to be intimate with, someone that gave him a reason to make his free time non-bonten time. it had been less than 24 hours after your first date at the steakhouse that he had realized how fucking good and different it felt to be around you. after years of the same shit with bonten or all the gangs that came before it, of course he was going to pursue this new possibility.

sanzu takes ran's silence as an answer, "fuck, ran, is it??" he howls with laughter. “did you go soft on us, man? got wifed up and lost your edge or some shit?”

“first, shut the fuck up. second, you would be doin the exact same fuckin thing if you knew how tight that shit is.” the regret for his words comes instantly.

“alright, then help me understand,” sanzu teases. “you plannin on sharin with the class?”

something ugly starts to boils deep in ran’s stomach. he's never once felt this sort of annoyance– the kind that borders on genuine anger– while simply joking with the boys. he wanted to abruptly end the conversation, didn’t want a single other person thinking about his girl and her pretty lips and tight little body and perfect fuckin cunt anymore or ever again. it was for him, him only. he wanted to swing at sanzu, knock him out of his fucking chair and leave the room. but where the fuck was that coming from? it didn't feel like ran at all.

so ran pushes the feelings down and does as normal ran would, diverting sanzu's attention away from his changing persona and the woman who had caused it, away from his clearly shifted views on women, sex, himself. he snorts a laugh and mumbles a pompous, “you fuckin wish.”

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a few more weeks go by and ran has successfully managed to avoid any further mentions of you with the bonten guys. he's more careful following the conversation with sanzu and, luckily, the topic doesn't come up again.

he's watching you intently from the bed as you brush your teeth in his bathroom. smiling to himself, he marvels at how differently your relationship has turned out from what he'd expected. it was like no other relationship ran had ever had, if you could even call his past conquests relationships at all... there was a private desire to always make you happy, keep you smiling. a constant need to make sure you were kept safe, far from bonten, its executives, and all its business. it had been such a drastic shift in him. honestly, ran couldn't remember the last girl he'd even saved in his phone with a name before you.

you meet his eyes in the mirror and grin at him. "who's got you smiling like that?" he calls, motioning you toward him. you pad across the room, climbing onto the bed and settling into his open arms. he holds you tightly against his bare chest, kissing your forehead fondly. you chuckle, "hey, when did you get so sweet, huh?" "m'not sweet," he says through a grin, squishing your cheeks between his thumb and forefinger and pecking your lips. "i'm a nefarious mob boss." you laugh at the epithet– your favorite from the tabloid articles about him– that had become something of an inside joke between the two of you. he can't help but join in your laughter, delighted just by seeing you so giddy.

a loud ding sounds from the nightstand and ran reaches across you to grab his phone. "what's wrong?" you ask when his brow furrows at the screen. "someone's at the door..." he clicks the notification and it brings him to the live video feed from his doorbell. there's a man smiling and waving into the camera, like a batman villain. his long hair is dyed pale pink, his mouth bookended by even lighter pink scars. "oh, you've gotta be fuckin' kidding," he grumbles.

"is it work?" your voice is tight. he realizes he's worried you and he hates it. kissing your forehead once more before getting to his feet, he reassures you that it's nothing, "i'll get rid of him in two minutes. promise."

before he leaves his bedroom he sends a stern look your way, "stay in here. okay?" you nod obediently and he moves through the penthouse toward the front door. "i'm off the fuckin clock," you hear him say as soon as the door has been yanked open. your eyes widen at the change in his tone. cold, all business.

"good news and bad news," sanzu is breathing heavily. "i got that info about the police raid. bad news is, it was not easy." ran notices sanzu is holding his side, notices dried blood under his coat. "you fuckin idiot," ran growls, grabbing sanzu by the back of his jacket and dragging him into the apartment.

"stay here," he orders, sitting his disheveled coworker at the kitchen table. "i've got bandages."

you stand up from the bed as ran bursts into the room. "is everything o–" he cuts you off, making a beeline toward the bathroom. "it's fine. you– fuck– please just sit down. stay in here." you follow him anyway, watching from the doorway as he starts pulling out drawers and rummaging around.

"what are you looking for?"

"first aid kit."

"it's under the sink."

he crouches, opens that cabinet next, and there it is. despite his frustration, he smiles up at you apologetically before rushing out of the room again.

"they had a fucking k-9 unit," sanzu groans, squirming as ran dabs his bloody, gashed flank with a peroxide soaked cotton ball. "isn't that fucked up?" ran sighs, nodding slightly. he's too tense to really listen. you're in the other room, listening to their every word, worrying about this dangerous business he was involved in. ran feels sick wondering how you'll react when you discuss it after sanzu leaves.

"oh, well hellooo." ran's head snaps up, following sanzu's gaze to something behind him. you're standing in the doorway, nervously holding a tube of antibiotic ointment in your hand.

ran's eyes bulge as they rake down your frame. your shorts suddenly seemed too short, your oversized pajama shirt bordering on see-through. he wanted to get up and shove you back into his bedroom, shut the door and keep you away from sanzu's gaze. at least until your long legs were covered up and you had put a bra on, but maybe not even then. he was reaching a panic as he considered the thoughts that might run through sanzu's filthy fucking brain about his girl.

sanzu nudges him, "who's this? you didn't tell me you had company! i would've gone over to rindou's to bleed out." the corner of your mouth twitches up at sanzu's words. you and sanzu exchange introductions. you can see ran's hands curling into fists, his jaw clenching. he's far from happy. you hadn't done as he'd instructed and now you were meeting one of the members of his company that he tries so hard to keep you so far removed from, too.

"this fell out of the first aid kit," you hand it to ran, letting your hand stay in his for just a moment longer than it needed to, hoping that it would calm him down a little. "i thought you might need it. nice meeting you, haruchiyo." sanzu nods politely, still smirking like he's just witnessed some big secret come to light. which, to be fair, he kind of had.

"so–" "shut up," ran bites. "i don't want to fuckin hear it." sanzu's smug expression only deepens, but he stays quiet. "and not a word to anyone else. okay? for my girlfriend's sake, be fuckin cool about this. i don't want her getting involved in anything."

sanzu agrees, "you got it, man. happy for you. she's as fuckin' fine as you– fuck, ran, OW!" ran presses the cotton ball sharply against sanzu's wound, effectively shutting him up. once he's bandaged up, sanzu produces a handful of painkillers from his pocket and swallows them down. "like a new fuckin man," he claps ran on the back. "i owe you one. say goodnight to your beautiful mrs. from me." ran shuts the door in his face.

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ran steps into the doorway to his bedroom and lets out a heaving sigh. you scramble up from the bed and hurry over to him, hugging tightly around his middle. "i'm sorry," you mumble." he wraps an arm around you, kissing the top of your head, "don't be. that was just..." he shakes his head to clear it. "i wish you'd stayed put, honey."

"i know, i know," you frown. "i just wanted to help."

you're both silent for a moment. you step back to look up at him.

"so i'm your girlfriend, huh?" you raise an eyebrow at him teasingly.

"you were eavesdropping, too??" he fakes annoyance, shoving you back onto the mattress and climbing on top of you as you giggle. "you're in big trouble."

"nooo," you whine impatiently. "one time. for me. say that you wanna be my boyfriend."

his violet eyes soften, he cups your cheek. "i wanna be your boyfriend. real fuckin bad. alright?"

"alright," you grin and he kisses you, feeling like the luckiest man on the planet.

ahhh its so cute brothers arm wrestling with their father T^T...

(cr: https://twitter.com/takotakoone/status/1541059991720734721)

Jude and Cardan 🥀

Squeeze me Tight

“As long as you wish for it, I will hold you.”

Diluc x Gn!Reader

Fluff/comfort. Not fully proofread, Cuddling scenarios!

Warnings: None!

->Where the reader has a bad day, and all they want to do is cuddle with their portable heater. Sending my love to anyone who had a bad day. This one’s for you♡

Keep reading

snapshots

a handful of moments you'd been convinced you were doomed to be stuck in Satoru Gojo's orbit forever - or a handful of ones where he realized he was stuck in yours

pairings: gojo x f!reader x geto

content: MDNI, childhood friends-to-lovers, copious amounts of fluff, crushes, teasing, gojo is so in love it's not even funny, heartbreak, angst, hurt/comfort, eventual smut, threesome, happy ending, will update the tags here as it gets posted lol <3

page one . . .

playground bully | tutoring session

page two . . .

rainy day | happy birthday | prom date

page three . . .

lifeguard duty | long distance

page five . . .

hotel room | goodnight kiss (i) | goodnight kiss (ii) | tennis match

page six - full spread!

page seven . . .

page eight - full spread!

divider by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more !!

JJK men thinking of you while masturbating

NSFW / Minors don't interact / female reader

Summary: The title describes it perfectly, I have nothing to add haha. For Gojo, Nanami and Choso. Hope you enjoy and let me know what you think!

Warnings: fantasies about blowjobs, handjobs, spanking, sex etc. + low-key some of them are getting caught in the act

Satoru Gojo

Gojo lets out a long breath when he closes the door to his office behind him. He plops down onto the couch, hiding his face in his hands. Fuck, he should really pull himself together. But since you’ve started working as a teacher at Jujutsu High this has been increasingly difficult for him. 

Today you really tested his patience. He felt your boobs pressing against him when you hugged him and he scolds himself for turning off his infinity, allowing you to do that. And then your delicate hands smoothing over his arm. Sometimes he has the impression that you do all of that on purpose; bending down in your short skirts, touching him, looking at him with these fucking eyes. 

Satoru is the strongest; but just thinking about all of this, about you, has his dick straining hard against his pants. He lowers his hands and sees the outline of his cock pressing against his trousers. This really is a problem. He has to do something about that. And he knows; if he goes about his day without getting a release he’ll get hard just laying his eyes on you. And he can’t let that happen.

So he lifts his hips up to pull down his pants and boxers. His cock springs free and he wraps his hand around it. He hesitates shortly. He feels guilty, perverse even for what he is about to do. But when his palm drags slowly along his length Gojo feels relief spreading through his body. The urge to get a release clouding his mind. 

He loves it when you touch him, fleeting and shy, as if you’re testing the waters. But now he would love nothing more than to have your pretty, delicate hand wrapped around his throbbing dick, pumping into his swollen, flushed tip.

He lets his head fall back against the backrest, closing his eyes so he can picture you better. He imagines it is your warm palm that drags along his shaft. In his fantasy you’re kneeling between his spread legs. You’re peering up at him, your eyes observing him thoroughly as you fasten the movement.

Gojo increases his pace, suppressing a groan that dares to slip past his lips. He imagines you lowering your head, taking him into your mouth. He just knows you would be amazing at sucking him off; your cheeks hollowing to suck on the tip of his head before you take all of him inside. He imagines it’s your mouth instead of his hand that wraps around his dick. Fuck, you would look so beautiful with your plush lips around him, looking up at him through your batted lashes. A low groan rips past his lips as he feels a bead of pre-cum sliding down his length. He spreads it, coating his dick.

He imagines you bobbing your head, his hand nestling into your hair to guide you. “Such a good girl,” he mutters to himself. He sees your face in front of his eyes; the tears daring to spill over as you deepthroat his dick, the look of pure devotion in your hazy eyes. He sees the string of spit connecting you to his glistening cock when you pull away to catch your breath. Gojo increases the pace of his hand, concentrating on his sensitive tip. 

His motions comes to an abrupt halt when he feels a familiar energy approaching. He shallowly lets his hand drag along his length when he hears the knock on his door. Shit. He perks up and opens his eyes. Gojo lets out a shuddered breath when he hears your voice from the other side of the door. His dick twitches in his hand and he tightens his grasp, almost punishingly, when he hears his name dropping from your lips.

And just for a short second he debates whether to just let you come in. To just let you see what you do to him. You would find him, his legs spread on the couch, his hair sticking to his forehead, his eyes half-lidded and his dick almost painfully throbbing in his large hand to get a release. His desperate state; all because of you.

But he doesn’t. “I’m busy. Come back later,” he calls out and hopes that you can’t hear the yearning in his voice. Because he isn’t sure if he would rather have you coming in, finding him like this. You call out an okay, and he still hears your retreating steps as he resumes his movement. 

He lets his head fall back again and imagines that you came into his office. The look on your face, your flustered expressions and wide eyes as you find him jerking off to the thought of you. Satoru feels his orgasm nearing as he wonders what you would do to him; maybe helping him, jerking him off yourself. Or how you would wrap your mouth around him. Or maybe you would lose all your clothes, allowing him to watch you as you play with your tits before your hands glide lower down your body. 

A deep groan rips past his parted lips and he concentrates on his sensitive tip as he wonders how your pussy would look and how it would feel as you lower yourself on his dick, inch for inch. His hips jerk up into his hand, two, three times before he tips over the edge. He groans as he imagines plunging his cock deep inside of you.

Gojo curses under his breath as his orgasm washes over him. His thighs tremble slightly as his hot, white cum shoots out of him. He jerks through it until he is left panting breathlessly and the drag of his hand is almost unbearable. Then he opens his eyes, watching the mess he made, a clear indicator that he must do something about this attraction towards you. Because he knows; next time he won’t be able to say no if you knock on his door.

Kento Nanami

It’s one of these late evenings again where Nanami is glad that he decided to stay longer at work. The office is vacant, the space only dimly lit, as he stares straight ahead into his computer screen, trying desperately to concentrate on the numbers in front of him. But he can’t. He is tired and his eyes always dart back to you.

You both are the only ones that have stayed behind, continuing to work. He loves when that happens, because then he can observe you more openly. And he can see you like the other colleagues can’t; a little more relaxed, a little less composed. This might be one of the reasons why Nanami loves staying so late; working longer than the others just to see you in this state, admiring your features as the dim lights paint you in a luminous glow.

You sit on the desk in front of him, slightly to the right. He watches you work like that, your beautiful hands flying over the keyboard. He gets lost for a few seconds; watching you put your hair up, exposing your long neck to him before you stand up. You turn around, slight surprise in your eyes as you catch him looking at you. You shoot him a small smile “I’ll be right back,” you whisper before you walk out the door. 

Nanami smoothes his hand over his face, letting out a long sigh. He really shouldn’t be such a creep. He doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable. But his tiredness wears him down, making his mind slow. He resumes his work and only looks up when he hears you coming back. 

And when his eyes find you he’s afraid that they are about to plop out of his head. At first he thinks he is imagining it but after a few seconds he is sure that he isn’t. Even in the gloomy light he can see that you must have taken off your bra. Fuck. He tries not to stare, but he can’t tear his eyes away from your tits bouncing ever so slightly, your nipples outlined against the sheer material of your blouse. 

Nanami clears his throat, his gaze trailing up to your face. You catch his eyes and there it is again; that sweet smile of yours. And even through the darkness he sees the glint in your eyes. Do you know what you do to him? Do you do this on purpose? His tired mind is too bleary to process what this would entail. 

He tries to concentrate back on his work, this time not letting his eyes trail back to you. And after a few minutes he sees you moving from the corner of his eye. He perks up and sees you putting on your coat. You turn back around to him and he isn’t sure if he is only imagining the disappointment in your eyes. You’re probably just tired. “I’m heading home now. Are you staying?” You ask him.

Nanami clears his throat. “Yes, just a few more hours. I have to finish something.”

You nod, smiling at him. “Alright. Don’t overwork yourself, Nanami,” you mutter. He shoots you a small smile before you turn back around and leave.

He leans back in his chair when you have vanished. You really are going to be the death of him. He always tries to stay respectful; not once has he ever actively thought about you when he was touching himself. Every time he thinks about you in that way he scolds himself, feeling so guilty. He is a gentleman, through and through, and he shouldn’t do something like that. 

But now he is just so tired. And so riled up from watching you. As he tugs down his pants and boxers he promises himself that this will be the first and the last time. This now will be the only time he will allow himself to indulge in the dirty thoughts he has about you. 

Nanami closes his eyes, exhaling deeply as his hand wraps around his hard cock. He moves his hand up and down his length, slowly and thoroughly. He sees you in front of his eyes; sitting so prettily under his deck as you take his dick inside of your mouth. Your enticing eyes would look up into his as you let your tongue glide along the underside of his dick. 

“Just like that,” he mutters to himself as he imagines you hollowing your cheeks, tears prickling at the corner of your eyes as you try to accommodate everything into your mouth.

Nanami increases his pace, smearing his pre-cum over his length as he imagines you bent over his desk. He would tug up your skirt, pulling your panties to the side to reveal your beautiful pussy to him. And then he imagines sinking into you, wondering how your walls would feel when they welcome him, warm and wet. 

And then he would glide out of you again, watching your pretty pussy gush around his cock. His hand jerks his cock faster now, mimicking how he would pound into you. He sees your beautiful ass, jiggling with every one of his hard thrust. He feels his orgasm nearing, his flushed tip increasingly sensitive.

And he just imagines the sinful noises filling up the desk; the lewd, squelching sound of your dripping pussy and your breathless moans and whimpers. Your name slips past his lips and he groans quietly, as his thighs tremble. 

Nanami is too wrapped up in his fantasy to notice the elevator dinging. He only perks up when he hears your sweet voice calling his name. And at first he thinks you’re calling out his name in his dream but then he sees your silhouette leaning against the frame of the door.

He is on the verge of cumming and he can’t help it, because then his name falls from your lips again. Your voice is soft and full of aspiration and the sound of it makes him go feral. He always loves when you say his name. But now that his hand is wrapped around his dick this alluring sound alone pushes him over the edge. Nanami loses any kind of shame. He cums, hard.

He tries his best to stay silent and struggles to keep his face straight. And as his mind is clouded he desperately hopes you can’t see anything. His dick twitches in his hand as the hot cum coats his fist white, dripping down his thick shaft and his balls. He hopes you don’t hear the quiet curse falling from his parted lips. He hurriedly lets his pulsating cock fall heavy against his thigh. 

Nanami hears your voice and tries desperately to comprehend your words. But he still feels like he is wrapped in cotton, the lust cursing through his veins like honey. You ask him something, if he knows where your phone or keys are or something like this. His gaze is still a little hazy as he watches you walking further into the room. Your eyes widen slightly when you notice his half-lidded eyes fixed on you, almost deliriously.

“I didn’t see anything,” he mutters, his voice is strained and hoarse as he answers you.

“Uhm…Are you okay?” You ask, your face is painted with worry, as your eyes trail over his flustered face. 

No, he obviously isn’t fucking okay. He is far from it. Because now after he has thought about you he knows, no other fantasies will compare to the ones he has about you. 

Choso: 

“Thanks for letting me stay over,” you thank Choso before you say goodbye and head home. He mutters a goodbye and closes the door behind you. His walk is sluggish as he plops himself back on the couch. He buries his face in his hands, before he opens his eyes again. And then he sees it; the shirt he has lent you to sleep in. It’s placed right next to him, folded together neatly. 

A smile tugs at his lips as he thinks about how tidy you always are. He noticed that since a few months; you often creep into his mind and a smile appears on his lips like he is in love with you. But he isn’t of course. You’re just his friend. You two are friends. 

And when he lays in bed, late at night and he tosses and turns you often appear in his thoughts. He knows he shouldn’t do what he does then; moving his hand to palm his cock, ashamedly thinking of you. He always feels bad after he comes down from his high. He is sure he shouldn’t think about his friend in that way. 

And now his eyes are fixed on the shirt laying next to him. Choso can’t help wondering if you wore something underneath. He’s pretty sure that you weren’t. Just your panties and his t-shirt. He gulps. And before he knows it the shirt is in his hand. The material is soft, worn in from him. And now from you as well. His cheeks burn from the slight shame he feels but his hand moves nonetheless. 

He presses the material to his face, inhaling the scent. Your scent. He can smell you clearly. And now you come alive in his imagination, Choso remembers how you looked wearing his shirt. The loose fit not able to conceal your tits or the curve of your ass.

And without warning his cock strains against his sweatpants. He sighs and he proceeds like he always does, tugging his pants down hurriedly, just to get this over with. He is disappointed at himself for failing like this again, for failing to stop this sexual attraction he feels for you. He wraps his hand around his cock, almost angrily. 

He curses under his breath as he drags his fist up and down his cock, pumping into his swollen tip. He watches himself doing so for a few seconds. Then his thumb drags across his slit to collect the pre cum to smear it over his swollen tip. 

He imagines you laying here in his lap, his large hands coming down on your ass, again and again. He would continue spanking you until the red mark of his hand can be seen clearly. And then he would plunge his fingers inside of your pussy, feeling how wet you are. He would tell you how dirty you are for getting so wet, asking you if you do this with all of your friends. A groan rips past his slack jaw as he imagines fingering you slow and teasingly. His calloused fingers rubbing your sensitive clit until you beg him to finally fuck you. But he won’t; he will take his time with you. 

Choso increases the pace of his hand, urging himself closer to his orgasm. He thinks about you squirming in his lap as he thrusts his long fingers inside of you, again and again. He nearly feels your plush walls spasming around him, as you drip all over his fingers, even coating his wrist with your arousal. And he will continue to tease your clit until he has you gushing and whining. 

“Wanna fuck you so bad,” he mutters, as if you were actually there with him.

And in his fantasies you look at him with beseeching eyes, wanting him to finally pound into you. Choso imagines sinking inside of you, bottoming out, feeling you wrap around his leaking cock so heavenly. And he would fuck you deep into the mattress, your drool staining the fabric dark until his name is the only thing that you can moan. 

A whimper falls from his parted lips, the image of you screaming his name pushing him over the edge. His fist squeezes his cock impossibly tighter and with two fast pumps he cums. A deep groan falls from his lips, alongside your name, drawn out in a moan, like it so often does when he orgasms. His dark eyes fix on his hand, watching thick beads of cum sliding down his length, his hot cum dripping down his twitching balls. 

He chokes on a moan when he continuous to pump into his overly sensitive tip, smearing his cum messily all over his hand and throbbing dick. He shallowly thrusts up into his fist to ride out his high, not being able to let go of the thoughts about you. That is until he grits his teeth, hissing and whining quietly from the overstimulation. 

And you would probably not recognize your friend like that; his dark hair disheveled, his flustered face and the lust-drunk look in his eyes borderline feral. Normally, Choso is calm and collected, sometimes even withdrawn. But when he thinks about you like that he can’t keep himself quiet. At night or at day there are comments and sounds slipping past his lips he could never utter to you in real life, lewd, lecherous words. Desperate moans, breathless whimpers, choked groans as he gets lost in his depraved fantasies about you and your body, imagining drawing one orgasm from you after another. 

And when he comes down from his high, his clouded mind slowly turning back to his normal state, he feels the guilt again. He grimaces at his soiled hand. He should stop with that, he really should. But Choso already knows; he simply can’t.

©sweetdreamlandstuff

Wanderer joins the Arataki Gang!! I think he would fit right in