The One

the one

itadori yuuji x femreader!

wc: 1.5k

angst, fluff (kinda¿)

note 1: this is my entry for my lovely @kshira 's friends with benefits collab ! hope u all like it ✦

note 2: click here to listen to the song that inspired this whole thing. yes, i headcanon yuuji as a 2000's kid and a die hard limp bizkit fan

note 3: tagging @yuujispinkhair bc i know you love yuuji just as much as i do, hope u enjoy it ! have a nice one <3

-hey, can i grab one of your shirts?-

you were both naked, smooth skin gleastening with a sheer layer of sweat that stayed over your bodies as a reminder of the previous heated encounter you just shared

a blush appeared in yuuji’s face when he found himself longing on your bare chest. so he looked away, realizing he had been shamelessly staring at you

it was an inescapable situation. nothing new, really. but certainly no less special to him. it has happened a thousand times by now, and even when everything was supposed to be just sex, there were feelings all over his mind and heart, and it was just too late to try and stop them from growing. so he’s been trying to keep it all down, all serene. as if a complete chaos didn't happen inside his being every time you stayed overnight 

-you don’t even have to ask me- his tone was smooth, still submerged in the bliss of the moment. while now, carefully observing the textures of the ceiling of his room. keeping himself occupied to ignore the desire he had to avert his gaze

-even the limp bizkit one?- you bit your tongue at the end of the question. it might seem as something simple, but that old piece of clothing meant way more than what it actually should

because your friendship comes from years back, years in which you were totally irrational, basically in the middle of puberty. and it was an unfortunate period, yes, but you could always count on each other. the bond has remained strong until today, and of course, with the addition of a couple of things that you never thought you’d be capable of doing together as thirteen year-olders

fucking, for example

-sure. just ‘cause it’s you-

you grabbed your panties from the floor and slipped them back on, walking to one of itadori’s drawers to grab what you were looking for

a black oversized shirt with the image of one of the band’s album cover on the front. the figures of five bald creatures over a pile of sausages just slightly vanished from all the use over the years. it’s yuuji’s absolute favorite

chocolate starfish and the hotdog flavored water. limp bizkit

you fucking hated that name

but nevertheless, you put it on and walked towards the bed where he was laying, taking little jumps and modelling it for him. he smiled brightly at you, leaning on one elbow to be able to see you better

-how do i look?- after a few more ridiculous poses, you climbed back to yuuji’s side and straddled his hips

-it fits you way better than me- he exclaimed breathless, while the blush returned to his cheeks and ears. but that was not the only thing he found difficult to hide, the look that escaped from his infinite brown eyes only showed how much he was devoted to you, to your whole being

-of course it does. when i see you wearing it, i automatically think of high school and i feel sorry for your poor self- unfortunately, you never saw it cause it’s something you are used to. because "a twinkle in the eye is just a twinkle in the eye”, you just laughed and rolled with him in the sheets. never noticing

all a game to you, all friendship. as it should be for him too

-hey!- until he was the one on top now, and all the playful aura was minimized to your cheek being caressed with one of his long fingers and the tucking of your disheveled hair behind your ears, tenderly

itadori always gives the impression of being very rough with everything he touches. ever since he was a little boy, his hands have been scarred from all the times he's been too harsh with something. but with you, he has always been delicate

in all those nights where he held your nude figure under his, breathing in your ear, calling your name in a murmur. the times he held your hand for no particular reason while you walked together. the times he hugged you for your birthday, or when you accomplished something important, or when you reunited after weeks of not seeing each other, or when you cried

he always takes you in the most fragile way he can manage. because if he does it abruptly, his heart is convinced that you will break into pieces, and he will never be able to grasp you again. that is why he takes care of you, as he has never taken care of anything. that is why he loves you, like he's never loved anyone

even though he is aware you don't really feel the same

-do you remember the day you got this shirt?-

he smiled at the memory and kept on listening to you. blocking all the crescent bad thoughts from his head, as he was used to

-when we ran under a scorching sun, one of those days of our summer vacations to go and get the newest released cd from this band at a record store that was at the other side of town, because you couldn’t stop bothering me?- -of course i do! is still the best album i’ve ever heard. and the shirt was on sale! it was totally worth the 27 calls i made to your house to wake you up- you pinched his arm and he shivered, holding in a smirk. he is fine with this, his brain screamed, this is enough -my mom is still mad at you, by the way. and all because you were in love with fred durst, you freak-  -i still am! i wanted to be like him so bad when we were on high school- at least he admitted it. laughter bubbled up effortlessly, between the pillows of the bed, filling the room with am unexplainable serenity -oh yes, i remember. you never took off this shirt, wearing those awful baggy pants, and that red MLB hat placed backwards on your head- it was painful to the sight to even think about it, abominable, a disaster, a halloween costume gone wrong used as a daily outfit -dear fuck, i forgot about the hat- you laughed together once again and he hugged you by the waist, hiding in the crook of your neck to bask in your scent one more time. while his brain shouted about this being enough, his heart refused it and went louder

if only you knew

and you could, you really could know everything. all about the desire in his soul, the way he’s been feeling for as long as he can remember

but he also found himself in denial. he was not interested in ruining what you have. it's all casual to you, you are basically best friends and you’ve been fuck buddies for a while now. it’s great this way. why messing it up?

cliché feelings are for the weak, right? -you know, jokes aside- even when he's become an expert at hiding his emotions over the years, there are times when he can't help but be honest with you. yuuji is like that, expressive, kind. and sometimes, he ends up hurting himself -i’m really glad you were the one i share those memories with. that cd really has some special tunes and you listened to all of them for me- the one, he was referring to that song. he always listened to it and thought about you, about how he meant every lyric, how he believed you were the one for him. but he never talked more about it, about it’s meaning

because, even if he never told you explicitly, the first song he asked you to listen to was that one. covered under the pretext that he really liked that “it was different from what he used to listen” and a bunch of lies that he doesn't even remember anymore. not a single clue about what he truly meant, that he was dedicating it to you. but still, he was hoping you'd maybe notice by yourself, just like now

you are his everything already, you just haven’t realized it yet

and it’s probably better if it remains like that

-yeah, no problem. i’m glad about it too- and after that, a minimal silence stood as a thin barrier between the two of you, comfortably. for a second, itadori was afraid that his thoughts were so loud that they could be heard and echoed in the said barrier. but before it could happen, he got interrupted

-yuuji- you whispered poking his ribs, earning his attention once again -hm?- looking down at you, he waited for your response, now calmly. with you in his embrace, he felt like floating. if only things were always like this, if only you were entirely his

-you still have it?- your eyes were glowing while staring at yuuji’s face, in an expectant way. sitting up and smiling brightly -the cd?- he mentioned, as he sit up too, to be at your level. always searching for your proximity, for your warmth. and you nodded at his question -of course i do, it’s my favorite after all- 

his favorite because of all your memories together. afternoons in his grandfather’s house when you were younger, walking home together, making schoolwork and failing math tests, eating cold noodles at lunch, sharing songs and dancing foolishly in his room at midnight

then going to college, your awkward first time together and the nice ones that came next, the way he trembles lightly when he finishes and the way he loves to hear you moaning his name, how your hands always dance around each other, spending days in his apartment, still eating cold noodles at lunch and still dancing foolishly all over his room at midnight. it’s you, it’s always been you

-so, can we listen to it together again?-

and he thought to himself again, this is fine,

this is enough for me

understanding everything has never been my deal maybe you have crossed my path to live inside of me or maybe you're the reason why i'm losing all my decency but

i believe that you and me we could be so happy and free inside a world of misery and i believe that you and me we could be so inside of you, inside of me 'cause this could be the one this could be the one this could be the one this could be the one

i want you to stay and blow me away, away, away, away

♬ ♬

BLOSSOMS OF INK (I)┊TATTOO ARTIST!GETO

❍ pairing : f. reader x Getō Suguru

❍ genre : fluff, smut

❍ word count : 8.9k

❍ summary : suguru and satoru run a studio together. little did you know you were getting out of there with a new work of art on your skin and a date with the tattoo artist up your sleeve.  ❍ content warning : pet names (petal, angel), reader has tattoos, long and curly hair, teasing, mention of nipple piercings (gojo), dick piercing (geto), oral (f and m receiving), doggystyle, choking kink

tags : @suget @yuujilove @getosbunny​ @goodsoupp​

♡ : hi everyone! this is the first part of my upcoming series about tattoo artist!geto. I must say this has become one of my favourite things to work on. hope you’ll like this one and see you soon with other parts!  

feedback and any type of interactions are super appreciated !

MDNI

Keep reading

happy birthday to the only man ever suguru getou

writing skills out of this world, simply amazing

𝗟𝗶𝗾𝘂𝗼𝗿 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗖𝗼𝗺𝗽𝗮𝗻𝘆

Pairing: Kishibe/Female Reader

Summary: Warm, almost timid lighting for the eyes, the lusting smell of smoke for the nose, and lastly, the accessible taste of alcohol for each tongue. An old fashioned bar is where you found yourself, a shabby establishment you would say. You had only hoped that Kishibe hadn't stood you up again like he had done many times in the past, this was important to you. And time was not so limitless for you. To think of the devil means to resurrect them, and Kishibe was there for company, and you think you'll stay for one more drink for the night.

Word Count: 2037 words

Authors Note: Hello again. This is actually a bonus chapter for my Beam/Female Reader oneshot 'Mistress' I posted a while back. But I realized it could sorta stand as its own fic, so i’m posting it. You can read this without reading my Beam fic and not have too many questions. Now please enjoy. Comments and Reblogs are always appreciated.

Chainsaw Man Masterlist

Death was always just the next step in your warped mind. For a long time, mainly throughout your childhood, you daydreamed about your death, and wondered constantly about what happens after the end. The thoughts started after the Gun Devil massacre, after your two siblings and many others died. Before their deaths you never thought about the end of life, or what happened after the flower decayed. All you knew, as an eight year old, that after all those people bled it was hell on earth. And many lost their faith, many children like yourself lost faith, and the future generation was stuck living a life that was lost.

In your teen years, near the end of high school, you came to a solution; to what exactly happened after death. Hell, nothing. Endlessness, nothingness. And that is what you saw as utter peace. Why care about anything if at the end of every story was just nothing. You thought that for a long time, until one day you saw a beam of light in a solemnly dark well, a light that never stopped shining for you. And now that solution has shifted. Death was still empty and meaningless, but that beam was absent at death. You are self aware enough to realize this. That when you died Beam would have it hard, struggle, and you would be alone yet again with regrets you didn’t understand. He was your only regret in life and death.

The building you found yourself currently residing in was zippy. Warm, almost timid lighting for the eyes, the lusting smell of smoke for the nose, and lastly, the accessible taste of alcohol for each tongue. An old fashioned bar is where you find yourself, a shabby establishment you would say. The rustic brick walls looked and felt almost as rough as the stool cushions. You personally wouldn’t have been surprised if they hadn’t been washed; the cushions probably would have been placed there longer than you had been alive. The building smelled as if the building was on fire, if this bar had fire alarms they would go off constantly due to the cloud of smoke surrounding the area. You walked past an assortment of drunk chumps on your journey to the secluded area of the bar top, you didn’t bother to respond or turn a glance to any who spoke to you. All your mind wondered was if he came, and of course how pissed you'd be if he didn’t show up. You stop in your step, halting beside a seated, lone man. “You actually came, eh Kishibe?” You rested your hand inside your trench coat pockets, looking down at the man who hadn't raised a glance at you.

“Don’t you go feeling special. Just a good excuse to go out drinking,” he stated as he downed the last of his liquor, emptying the glass. “Better than drinking out alone,” he uttered, before finally bothering to look at you, the person who invited him here. Kishibe shamelessly eyed you down for a moment; you weren't wearing your devil-hunter attire like he was. You wore a beige cami top, noticelessly strapless despite the trench coat you wore. The brown trench covered your shoulders, and absorbed the smoke in the air. He brought his eyes back to your face, where he found your eyes boring into his eyes, unimpressed, searching for his soul. Kishibe, as insolent as he is, stared back into your void of a gaze and spouted his thoughts. “and you’re not too bad of a sight.” Your eyes narrowed further.

He’s just as you remembered, and you aren’t saying it was a good thing.  “Oh shaddup, would ya. I’m not interested in old men,” you barked, taking a seat beside the rugged man. “Whiskey on the rocks,” you shouted from your spot to the bartender. The man grumbled and nodded before beginning to cook up your drink, alongside your drink he began wordlessly refilling Kishibe’s, making it known that Kishibe is a ‘regular’. To think of the devil means to resurrect them as Kishibe speaks right after your thought. “I heard you signed a new contract,” he said, “with the Curse devil.” You didn’t deny it. “Yea, that I did. ‘Tis no secret.”

Kishibe digs through his large overcoat as he responds lazily. “That breaks the agreement between you and the Mermaid Devil.” If looks could kill, Kishibe would likely have you in a chokehold before that. Feels like he knows too much about your contract with that damn filthy devil. He was the one who recommended you talk up a contract with that devil when you first started out due to the advantage it would give you over your peers. You remember thinking he was going to come with you, but the bastard never showed up. That’s one of the many reasons why you always think he’s gonna stand you up. Despite that occurrence now being a little over eight years ago. “Yea, I already know,” you growled. “But why be faithful to a devil? That devil ain’t my spouse.” The bartender slid you your glass of whiskey, ice giggling inside, and sounded like wind chimes. Kishibe removed a box of unopened cigarettes, and he shrugged. “You’re not the committed type anyway.” You brought the cup of whiskey to your lips and took a sharp sip before responding. “Yea? Well neither are you, Kishibe.”

Smoke encased your front vision. You turn to find Kishibe now smoking a cigarette from a brand you didn’t know, leaning back in his seat. He stared up at the ceiling, the cigarette hanging from his scared mouth. “The Shark fiend,” he muttered in seemingly no direction. “Fiends partnering with devil hunters. What a buncha comedic shit. Funny you got talked into it.” He crudely placed his elbow on the bar top and grabbed his filled cup of rum. “By Makima I bet.” You dodged his statement, avoiding his morbid interest in your partnership with Beam. “Did you read my email fully or not.” You surely weren't here for chatter, you need a favor, it’s important; you took another sharp sip to ease your creeping nerves. He narrowed his eyes at you, removing the cigarette bud from his mouth to take a quick swig. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t read it. Wouldn’t you think?” Kishibe drowned his mouth, drinking damn near half of the liquor in his glass. “Haven’t talked in four years and you’re asking for favors. The audacity of devil hunters these days,” he grumbled, whipping his face.

It had indeed been four years since you and Kishibe were acquainted. It wasn’t as if back then you both were hanging out on a daily basis, it was just that Kishibe was the only devil hunter you knew. He had trained you and after you were sent to do your own thing you and Kishibe used to drink together once every few weeks. Not much nowadays. The last few years you’ve isolated yourself, until Makima partnered you with Beam, and a glimmer of light absorbed you from inside out. “I’d become an alcoholic if I hung with you too much. I keep a safe distance.” In response Kishibe dryly chuckled, sarcastically. A silence then absorbed the both of you, the sound of drunk patrons and ice hitting glass striking your ears.

You bring the glass of whiskey, and artlessly place your elbow on the bar top beside Kishibe's crudely placed elbow. How romantic, you sardonically thought. “I haven’t told my partner about my new contract,” you said out of the blue, to slowly build on to your request. Kishibe shrugged. “The fiend, eh? Why would you even bother?” Kishibes cup was empty again, and as he spoke smoke eagerily escaped. You turn to gaze at his face subtly. His side profile was sharp, scraggly facial hair showed and the stitched scar running across his left cheek from his mouth declaring its presence. The man was older than you, but that wasn’t why you respected him. You respected him…because he himself embodied life to you. Life's cruel joke.

“I need a favor. Only one,” you said. Kishibe’s eyes did not shift from anticipation nor surprise. He knew why you were here and was just waiting for you to spit it out. “Hurry up and shoot it.” After a second you state your favor, allowing yourself to be…somewhat vulnerable. Perhaps it's the little liquor in you. “I want Beam to be taken care of after I die. I don’t want him suffering when I’m gone,” you state openly. Kishibe’s silence and lack of response intoxicated you with anticipation. He did not blink, or really move, his eyes were still in thought. Smoke covered the dimmed lighted area where you both found yourselves that dilapidated night.

“…You’ve gotten soft over a fiend,” he surmised. “That’s surprising, especially for you.” Not the response you cared for. Honestly, you wanted a sufficient yes or no. Your eyebrows bunch and you unthinkingly lean closer to the man, now shoulder to shoulder. “Oh shaddup, would ya. Yes or no?” He still didn’t give you the response you wanted and he just began to light up another cigarette, throwing out the former one. “How much longer d’ya got?” He caught on rather quickly to your tale. You were telling him you were going to die just like every other devil hunter he’s ever drank with.

He kept his gaze on the burning cigarette in hand, exhaling smoke. Your silence ran on until hitting a finish line of comfort, where you confirmed his assumption. “…The Curse devil said not long. A month or so.” The ice in your whiskey had melted, decayed, sorta like how your life was dissolving by the day till some unknown fate you had no understanding of. “I see,” Kishibe muttered. He didn’t make eye contact, staring down at his foggy, empty glass that lacked substance. “And your last wish is for me to help this fiend,” he added. He was straight on point to your predicament.

The thought of Beam fluttered your heart, you wondered what he was doing now. Probably sleeping in his room at your apartment. If your bosses knew you left Beam alone in your home you’d surely get in trouble but you trusted Beam, you cared for him. “Beam is all I care for, and my only regret when I die.” Kishibe didn’t not speak, he did not interrupt you. “I want him to experience a wave of life, even without me,” you rambled. Kishibe shrugged. “Don’t go expecting me to die or get fired for a fiend or for you.” Kishibe, at that moment, did not understand your relationship with Beam. He just threw it out the window and placed it as you going officially mad.

However, he accepted your request. He’d at the very least try to help you, but like he said prior, he isn’t going to extremes for ya. At his confirmation, you landed your cheek in the palm of your hand, elbow still on the bar table. The dainted light from above hovered over both your hinged souls that lingered too close. “Sure, bud. Just don’t go telling people this, bastard,” you taunted, dryly. Kishibe didn’t break a sweat, nor show a reaction at the lack of distance between you now or your unwavering gaze on his side-profile. He won’t be swooned by a girl. “I would, if I cared enough to. Your business doesn’t interest me,” he mumbled.

You hadn’t paid attention to what he had said, you only boldly pulled the cigarette hanging from his mouth and took a swing, gaze not moving from his; a string of smoke addictively evading your throat. Kishibe watches unimpressively as you lean back into the rough stools and cover the bar in smoke. “Try not to get addicted,” he joked, eyes boring your appearance. Your eyes bloomed full of a struggling life, it reminds him of an old, calming wave at the beach. There was something he always liked about you, you reminded him of some distant memory he couldn’t restore.

You handed him his cigarette back, not dodging the intense gaze from his slanted eyes, and he proceeded to take a swing of the cigarette also. You watched him sluggishly as he had watched you. “I think I’ll stay for another drink,” you suggest. Kishibe’s dark eyes intensely stayed on yours as he handed you back the cigarette, smoke clouding your face, temporarily blocking your view of the man. His hand faintly touches yours as you take the cigarette from his grasp and repeat the process. “I think I’ll stay for the company,” he said in response. The night was young, and death was forgotten for a moment in time. Tomorrow is when reality will sink in the knives, and the realization that life and death were both equally cruel games will settle itself within.

Thank you for reading.

Please do not repost my work without permission. Contact me for translation or asmr request.

© All rights reserved - @underscar

ITS TIME INDEED

it's time

i just saw this and i'm crying💗 you are a really beautiful person too, thank you @kakuachoo

tags! @nozomiasl @satmitsuplanet @mqtsuno @lostinthe-jojos @yuujispinkhair @kallikrein @souyawn much love !

BEAUTIFUL PERSON AWARD! Once you are given this award you’re supposed to paste it in the asks of eight people who deserve it. If you break the chain nothing happens, but it's sweet to know someone thinks you’re beautiful inside and out !! <3

😳😳😳m-me? Beautiful? Hzhdjaka thank you babe. You are more beautiful.

Tagging my moots: my fiance @sauza @saintshinobu @eru-lloyd @venussins @presidentmonica @katsukisdynamite @katsukichu @tteokdoroki @solarchuu @kyoutxni @anthenais @chososupremacy @sleepy3 @adriana-mica @thatgirlrei @lovetobios @rinnegankakashi @laudthingcat @iamsorrypapi @earlesskitten @httptamaki and more of my moots.