Sky So Beautiful I Need To Kiss A Woman

OOMFS I DID IT !!!

so cute

S

Baby is safe and secure with this otosan 🥹

somethings purring… oh wait

My fallopian tubes are tingling

Artist: thatsallitchief on IG

okay my brain really gmfu because yesterday i was like yeah i don’t really want a relationship or anything until i finish schooling. bro. i just had a dream i was dating the irl equivalent of choso and i really am bout to FUCKING KMSSSSSSS i need to lock in

mahito likers DNI

crode

in the almost two years that you and katsuki have been dating, marriage has never been brought up.

not even once.

you’re not worried about it though. the thought is one that must’ve crossed his mind at one point or another and simply not been verbalized. after all—he’s still learning that he is in fact allowed to both have and express his emotions.

alternatively, your brain is certainly no stranger to being graced with images of your boyfriend—well, husband—in a suit and tie, with a handful of three tiered vanilla cake smeared on his face. courtesy of you, of course.

it’s a sweet thought, but one that you tuck away—because now just, isn’t the time.

you’re still so young, and there’s many memories to be made before your wedding becomes one of them. also, you don’t even really have the time to begin with. your boyfriend currently has almost all of his focus on his career as a pro, and as bitter as the words taste—that line of work does require a one day at a time mindset. he knows better than anyone that he can’t gaze too far into the future.

so, marriage remains a topic that you and katsuki have yet to touch on.

however, the two of you attended izuku’s wedding this evening, and much to your surprise—he has a lot to say about it upon returning home.

in fact, you don’t even end up here until two in the morning, and now—at quarter to three—neither of you seem willing to put the conversation to bed.

you’re sitting on the sofa with your legs slung over katsuki’s lap, and he’s mindlessly kneading at the skin on your thighs. he’s definitely not drunk, but after snagging three consecutive days off for this whole ordeal—a miracle, really—he had a drink or two (or three) at the reception, and so yes, he has a bit of a buzz going on. but, he’s not any less him.

“katsuki,” you drawl—tone vaguely similar to that of a parent scolding their child. “stop it, his vows were not cheesy.”

“yeah they were,” he mutters. he’s still in his white button up and black dress pants, although the tie and suit jacket that went along with them are long gone. “almost as cheesy as the fuckin’,” he pauses to lean his head back against the cushions. “tears running down his face.”

and well, it was a beautiful ceremony—an outdoor event that unfolded beneath the pinky-orange sky and the warmth of the evening sun.

candles lined the aisle, and a slew of white roses adorned the archway at the end of it—details that you know izuku didn’t have much to do with, but that he visibly adored no less. he was as happy as you think you’ve ever seen him. in a way, you envy the outward tenderness of his affection.

“i thought it was cute,” you respond. “you can tell that he’s in love.”

having already changed into pyjamas, your thumb and index finger tug and fiddle with a loose thread on the sleeve of your (katsuki’s) shirt, and you find yourself wondering if the possibility of him crying at your ceremony is one that exists.

“yeah, that’s enough love for me.” he turns to you—scarlet gaze lidded with what could be fatigue, the lingering effects of rum, or, a little bit of both. “don’t think i’m cut out for this wedding bullshit.”

he means this wedding guest bullshit, surely.

“well,” you bend your knees, planting your feet flat against his thighs, which prompts him to slide two fingers beneath the silver jewelry wrapped around your ankle. “then i guess now is a bad time to tell you that i caught the bouquet.”

it was an honest mistake. you intentionally placed yourself at the very back of the group, primarily to avoid any potential scuffles, but lo and behold— izuku’s wife has quite the arm. you had to catch it simply to prevent being hit by it.

but apparently your boyfriend didn’t notice the dishevelled bundle of foliage in your hands upon returning to the table.

“you wanna trophy or somethin’?” he deadpans.

“uh, i believe it’s called a ring,” you hum playfully—half poking fun at him, and half hoping that you feel his palm heat up against your skin. he’s pretty easy to read, so long as you know what to look for.

but he doesn’t have much of a reaction.

whatever’s playing on the television is in the midst of bathing him in a blue-ish hue, and so you can’t really make out any of the finer details of his face—the crease between his brows or the sharpness of his jaw. but, you know that katsuki’s wheels are turning. you can feel it in the absentminded graze of his fingertips along the back of your thigh. it’s as if he’s getting a feel for the idea of marriage for the first time, tossing and turning it around in his head. has he really never thought about it before?

“that superstition is bullshit,” he blurts out after a minute or two of silence.

“marriage?” you furrow your brows at him.

katsuki mirrors your look with triple the sass and a little scowl to boot—crease now very, very visible. “no moron, the bouquet toss. jesus, denki sat next to you for twenty minutes and was able to kill that many of your brain cells, or what?” he asks—smirk threatening the corners of his lips. “i thought i told that dumbass to stop flirting with you.”

“don’t worry,” you laugh a little even though you know you shouldn’t. “he won’t remember flirting with me.”

“good,” katsuki mumbles.

you watch quietly as he turns to the television. the shitty comedy movie you’re watching continues to paint him in various colours—a muted orange that softens his features, and a shade of royal blue that makes the scar on his face appear a deep purple.

he’s pretty, you think. in any and every colour.

“so,” you begin, redirecting your gaze to your nails in a painfully obvious attempt at avoiding his. “do you not want to marry me?”

it’s a lighthearted question. some casual late night conversation. you’re going to take his reply with a grain of salt regardless of what it is.

but again, in the blurry background of your vision, you see katsuki with that same look on his face—confusion and bewilderment all wrapped into one.

“did i say that i didn’t wanna marry you?” he asks.

and well, no. however, his apparent distaste for all things wedding related can be interpreted as such—can’t it?

“i read between the lines,” you chuckle and swing your feet onto the floor—sitting back upright.

“well don’t,” he grumbles. you can feel his eyes on you as you stretch your arms out above your head, and when you stand up and start shuffling away—you think you can feel a hole burning into the back of your skull. “hey, get your ass back here.”

“katsuki, i’m tired,” you groan over your shoulder, already knowing that he’s right there behind you.

“listen to me,” he insists, but his voice is soft, light—as if he’s well aware that the topic isn’t. then, he reaches out and tangles his fingers in the excess fabric of your shirt, pulling you flush against the eternal warmth of his chest. he ducks down a bit, breath tickling the shell of your ear. “i’ll give you that ring when i’m damn good and ready, alright?”

you wiggle in his grasp, turning yourself around to face him as his rather interesting choice of words begins to settle.

“what ring?” you smile up at him, and again—he’s easy to read so long as you know what to look for, and so as you watch the tips of his ears flush red, you think you’ve got him all figured out. “baby—”

katsuki’s palm gently greets your face before you can start doting on him. he pushes lightly—using just enough force to get his point across.

“yeah, yeah. save it for later,” he advises, and you swear your heart leaps into your throat at the all but confirmed meaning of those words. “since you’re so good at reading between lines and shit,” he adds.

and even at a time like this, he’s as smug as ever.

but you’re happy—so incredibly happy. of course you are. knowing that the picture perfect images of katsuki as your groom will eventually leave the confines of your mind is all you really wanted. still, there’s a small part of you that feels guilty for even bringing it up in the first place, because you’ve completely eliminated any element of surprise. is he upset about that? it doesn’t look like—

“what, no i love you? no you’re the best boyfriend ever?” his voice fills your ears—extinguishing the prior thought. “can make you wait longer, y’know.”

“shut up,” you curl into his chest, breathing in the faint scent of cologne that’s lingering on his shirt—the same one he’s worn on every date he’s ever taken you on. “you know how much i love you.”

“yeah, ditto.”

and katsuki wants to argue that point further, but he doesn’t.

he’s never been the best at expressing himself. he knows this, and he knows that you do as well. his affection isn’t like izuku’s. his tenderness doesn’t come in the form of words.

instead, he weaves it into everything he does.

it’s in the way he sleeps—always with an arm or a leg or some part of his body touching yours, and always with you positioned further from the door. god forbid soembody enter your home, he needs himself to be the first (and last) person that they encounter. it’s in the way he eats, too—because despite his relentless appetite, he always makes sure you’ve had your fill before he thinks about going back for seconds. above all, he holds you with a tenderness that even izuku couldn’t match. he holds you so close, and he holds you so tight—like the thought of losing you is one that’s forever on his mind and always scaring him shitless.

and so, while he knows better than anyone that he can’t gaze too far into the future, he did.

he bought a ring eight and a half months into your relationship, and has been waiting for a time that the larger part of society would deem acceptable. having to work beneath the scrutinizing eye of the public is shitty, but the way he sees it—there’s no title or piece of paperwork that’s going to change what you mean to him anyways.

nevertheless, katsuki hasn’t doubted for a second that the colour you would look best in is white.

i frowned

haha look what if i jumped

oh well yes!!

ignore how rough i’m looking …. i just got off work -_-

✧ ⁺˳ cw. fem! reader, husband nanami, fıngering, praise, talking you through it, squırting, dirty talk, mdni.

“don’t be shy, sweetheart. get it wet, atta girl,”

nanami would murmur right up against your ear, warm breath fanning against the shell of your earlobe. it tickles, and as you’re laid flat back against him with a few fawn strands of his chest hair brushing up near you, you whine. your legs were unapologetically spread wide open with a bundle of your toes curling up exquisitely. the back of your head rubs and rubs against his bare chest, and he’s got the softest smile. “ah ah,” he whispers, watching as your own crumped up finger buries itself into your cunt and lazily moves around. “remember the method i taught you. circle it around, yeah,” and your breathing hitches the moment the tip of your digit encircle a slippery swab of your sheeny slick. “here, let me take it from here for a bit.”

with your laced panties pulled back near the crevices of your thigh, you collapse flat against his chest. his warmth, a single moan escapes from your lips at how close he was to you. his scent, nanami’s cologne engulfs in your nostrils and it’s such a rich, citrusy aroma. “o- okay.” was all you could manage to whimper out, feeling the cold band of his g-shock ghost against your thigh.

“it’s gonna get messy, my love,” he warns you, a bit of humor in his tone — you throb, two fingers of his smear against your drooling heat and your mouth slowly dangles open. “ooh, my oh my. she’s quite the talker today huh,” he hums at the sounds of your weeping cunt - sloshing and creating various laments of squelches from his consistent rubbing before you whine. “let’s hear what she’s got to say, hm?”

“f- fuuuck.” you’d mewl out, feeling him slowly ease a finger inside of your slit. by this point, he’d taken out your finger and replaced it with his own. nanami’s pointed chin rests against your shoulder as he watches intently.

even your colorful swears sounded angelic. behind you, you could feel his dick twitch in his boxers at just the sound of your voice. already, you were soaked heavily. nanami felt like being a bit of a tease tonight though.

with one hand focusing its attention between your thighs - another creates a tantalizingly slow, trail up and down your body. his fingertips dance against your skin as he glances at you jerking and shuddering. all from his touch, he wanted to make sure to savor your body.

in a way, you were like art to him, a breathtaking canvas that was forevermore priceless.

“gimme your hand, my love,” he requests, lukewarm plush lips pressing a chaste kiss near the inside of your neck. a breeze of his minty fresh breath sets against your sinuses before you comply. as he takes ahold of your wrist, nanami makes you start a trail of your own. gradually, he’s dragging your arm further down your body, making sure your fingers get a feel of every single part of you. “nice ‘n slow, good. doin’ so good.”

a breathy pant starts to rip out of you, hauling out of your lungs abruptly and you’re panting like a dog - he’s so gentle, his words only added more fuel to the fire before you feel the brief pangs of heat between your legs intensify.

nanami’s thick finger turns into two and you let off a melodic whimper as he’s stretching your pussy open. “open for me baby, focus on those breaths,” and as you’re just sluggishly pressed up against his chest, he gives your you another kiss. this time, it’s near the top of your head. “my good girl.” he purrs, voice raspy and filthy—pouring with nothing but admirable love and affection.

it was as if a feverish, fire was bristling against your skin. it was subtle, real subtle. you sigh deeply at his two fingers leisurely prod their way inside of your accepting, gummy walls. “k- ken,” you whine out, hearing the lewd sloshing sounds of your own arousal. it’s wet, you’re wet. nanami’s still guiding you to touch yourself in a way that makes your perked nipples throb. a gentle hand firmly but sweetly grabs your wrist, having you feel right near your heaving chest. your breaths were shallow, short brief inhales coming out of you before your eyes start to roll and flicker back. “your fingers, ‘s long, ken.”

“oh, are they now?” he utters, a tender grip compressing against his pink glossed lips. “i’d hope so, they’re just the right size for my wife, are they not?”

by the second, you could feel yourself coming close. you could feel yourself reaching your inevitable, destined peak. “c’mon, big girl words. talk to me,” he shushes your sweet, babbling moans. you were speaking a good sentence of gibberish—inaudible whimpers mewling out your throat at each millisecond that passes. you’re squirming a bit in pleasure, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip, creating a bite. nanami then slides his slender fingers out so you could do the rest. you whine, trying to copy his method. your digits slickly coat and drip against the outer part of your cunt before sliding your fingers in. huffing, you feel a pulsating pulse near your aching labia. “how’s it make you feel, sweetheart. feel good?”

“feels good, ‘ken,” you puff out a single exhale in dry, irregular breaths. you felt your own slick stick against your pried open legs like glue. it was a mess indeed, and before you knew it, you were right there. “kento, finish for me, please p-pleaseee.”

“but my love,” he hums a dulcet tune against your ear, your thigh tapping and tapping in anticipation. it’s a salty taste pouring into your mouth but as the seconds progress, it’s turns sweet,

bittersweet.

the filthy, moist squelches became so loud that it starts to echo through the thin walls of your cozy, homey residence. “you’re supposed to be doin’ this, not me. ‘m just showing you how.”

letting off a near pornographic moan—you were cut off the minute your fingers thrash against your g-spot. your noises made him hard, so whiny and pleasing to the human ear. once you feel the twitching muscle, it’s soft and hollow with a squishy surface, scratching such an orgasmic itch in your brain. you could barely even form words with how dumb you were right now. “right there ‘ken. i feel something.”

“keep feeling there, baby. ‘s okay,” he holds you from behind, feeling your body continue to slump back against his chest. your legs vigorously shake like an earthquake - its intensity was jittering you to your wits end. with two eager fingers swirling around the insides of your needy cunt, your jaw drops. a pocket seed of ecstasy welts and surges all through you. as he grabs your wrist again, nanami’s helping you finger yourself with your entire wrist — helping you do a bowling ball grip with two fingers. two stuffed inside, the others just being idle. it felt so good, you weren’t gonna last a second longer by this point. “you’re so close, sweetheart. use those pretty fingers, mhm. so close, make a mess on me, make a mess on your husband so i can clear you right up.”

a pitched ringing sound goes in your ears and right back out. as you’re zealously twitching from the touch, the stimulation, you let off yet another long, pitched moan. it’s a lengthy moan, nowhere near short.

you elongate a single syllable and lasts it for a good four seconds until you realize you’re cumming. one wave comes, then two, then three until everything’s all crashing down on you.

“k- kento,” you whimper, feeling your digits tangle up inside and get soaked from top to bottom with your honeyed slick. but it doesn’t stop there, in fact, once you look down, not only were you coming undone but you were also gushing out. it sprays, a translucent splashing tint dampens against the satin ruby sheets and nanami simpers. “oh my g- goddd.”

he feels your soddened rapture pouring all out, electricity like currents traversing all throughout your body and you grow limp. “aw,” he speaks first, seeing how your climax took everything out of you. nanami brings a hand down between your legs, a thumb swiping against your swollen cunt before he smears your juices right on your entrance. “my messy girl, did you just squirt on me?”

you don’t reply—your breathy, shaky moans being your answer and a hand of yours squeezes his wrist. it’s so many nerves, a bundle of them being touched and convulsed strike right within you before he kisses the top of your head. “seems like my wifey’s a little squirter after all,” he purrs once more, his voice as smooth as silk. as nanami slowly makes you pull out your filth covered fingers, a cobwebby string of lustrous gloss runs off from the tips of your fingers. “look at this,” he grabs your wrist, holding it up in front of you before he does what you’d last expect.

nanami gingerly wraps a hand around your wrist, inching it toward his face before he pops two of your slippery slick digits into his mouth. he groans at your cherry sweet taste - making sure to savor and relish the toothsome flavor before his tongue curls around your fingers.

“mhm,” and as he’s sucking on your digits to clean them just like he said, you could feel yourself throbbing again. once nanami finally removes his mouth from your two wet fingers, he lowly chuckles against your ear. “such a good girl,” he praises you one last time before getting his own fingers wet, wiping them both near your sopping clit. “let’s do that again. now spread these gorgeous legs wide again for me, my love. gotta get my wife just a little bit wetter.”

mannfnrnrnfbrjen billie eilish the woman that u r this album has me in fucking TEARS