#been building the collection for a while so

[thequeenofcurses]

summary: the world’s top model had it all: fame, beauty, and ego to match. But when an accident leaves him blind, Gojo is forced to confront life without the spotlight. AU Model!Gojo x f!Reader

tldr: blind!gojo x f!reader

cw: eventual smut, kinda slow build, gojo is an ass at first, blindness :(, dddne, a lot of angst, modeling!, depression, possibly more but I'll update it as I write! also I made this cute magazine graphic just for the story 🥺!

masterlist | jjk masterlist | read on ao3

Cracks In The Mirror

“Perfection.”

“Beautiful.”

“Natural born star.”

Satoru Gojo has heard it all. The day he was born, the world changed its definition of beauty. People from all over the world would marvel at his rare, pure white hair and captivating cerulean blue eyes. He had everything someone could want: looks, money, confidence… everything except a humble personality.

Since his birth, he was in the world’s eye. He had modeled for everything from baby diapers to bottles to new toys. Even a famous American rock band wanted to use him as the cover for their new album.

Your hands were shaking nervously as you studied the new script in your hand while you waited in a white room. You were a model, not an actor, so why were they having you study lines!? The original plan was for you to be a “professional” model, at least that’s what your agent told you.

People had always told you that you were kinda pretty. Your friends, your parents, even random strangers you’d run into on the street. Then one day, during your high school senior talent show, some scout in the audience decided to make that everyone’s problem. You’d been modeling here and there ever since, using the gigs to help cover your college expenses. 

Modeling was fun and helped build up your confidence, but you weren’t sure if you could truly “make it.” You weren’t Tao Okamoto or Mei Mei, but you didn’t let that stop you. You genuinely had fun behind the camera, and the free hair and makeup styling before the shoots were always nice, especially since you sometimes got to keep the clothes or props (at least no one ever noticed you taking pieces home here and there).

“How are you today?” Doctor Zayne questions.  “Anything bothering you?”

You shook your head. “Nothing new, except the usual,” you confirm honestly. “I’m hoping I land this new commercial, though. I heard Suguru Geto might star in it as well!”

“Ah, that’s great to hear,” he smiles, quickly checking your vitals. “And how are your parents doing?”

“Good, I think,” you answer. You flip through page after page, trying to distract yourself while you’re being checked out. “They’re still not exactly happy with my life decision.”

He sighs. “I understand that, but at the end of the day, you're my patient, and I will support whatever decision you choose.” He quickly pulls his stethoscope from around his neck to listen to your heart. “But, I still want you to do what’s best for your health.” Up, down, left, right, he does his final check and gives you a nod that he’s finished. “Seems all good today.”

“Perfect.” You slide off the bed and stand, collecting the script and your personal items. “Thank you… for understanding.”

“Anytime.” He smiles and opens the door for you. “Good luck with that audition.”

You thank him again as you exit into the lobby. You're on your way out when you decide to pour a quick cup of courtesy coffee from the front desk. After making your drink, your attention returns to your script while you walk toward your car until– 

SMACK!

You run straight into a tall, broad chest, spilling your drink all over their shirt and your script. 

“Oh, no, no, I’m so sor –” you quickly try to apologize.

“Yeah, you should be.”

“s-sorry.” You pause, shaking your head. “I beg your pardon?”

“I said,” the man bends down toward your face. “You. Should. Be. Sorry.”

You scoff and roll your eyes. You would’ve offered to grab some napkins to help clean his shirt up, but not with that fucking attitude.

“Well, excuuuse me, princess.” You push past him, collecting your fallen script, and head towards the exit. 

“Does she not know who I am?” the man asks, probably to the secretary at the desk, but you no longer care. “Dumb, bitch.” It took everything you had not to turn around and smack him. Hospital or not, you weren’t going to take that disrespect. What a pompous jackass.

Thankfully, you had taken photos of the script as a backup just in case you ever lost the physical copy. You slide into your car and glance at the clock as you start it.

12:45 pm. Shit. Your audition that’s across town starts at 1:15. That appointment took you longer to leave than you expected thanks to that asshole at the hospital. If you sped a little and maybe skipped a stop sign or two, you might be able to make it in time.

You darted in and out of traffic, weaving left and right until finally reaching the grand building. You park in the first available (handicap) spot. Sorry, but this audition is important! They usually take less than 30 minutes; you would be gone and out of the spot before anyone noticed your car didn’t belong there. Well, technically…

1:08pm. 

You made it. 

You slip into the building and take a seat in the audition room towards the back. Modeling may have made your confidence go up, but you’re still not a super social person.

Thwip Thwip Thwip Thwip 

The slapping of blades could be heard from outside.

“Is it him?”

“Suguru Geto!”

“I’ve always wanted to work with him.”

“He’s so talented! I hope I get this job!”

Most of the other girls in the room run up to the window to verify if their theories were correct. The sound of the helicopter’s engine comes to a halt and two large men dressed in black hop out. Makes sense that someone as famous as Geto would have security.

“Everyone act natural, we don’t want to scare him!” someone shouted as the girls sprinted back to their seats. You watched them scatter like cockroaches in daylight, all the while you’ve mindlessly focused on studying your lines on your phone. 

You were so engrossed you didn’t see the person following the two security guards to the front of the room.

“Thank you, ladies,” a man said. You could hear the smirk in his voice. “I know I’m late, but Suguru will not be joining us. I will be doing the scene with you all instead.”

You pause your reading. That voice… it couldn’t be.

“He’s feeling a little under the weather, so naturally, who better to replace him in the commercial than yours truly?” he continues with a bright smile, and you swore every other woman in the room swooned. “Hope the wait wasn’t too long,” the man says with a dazzling grin. “I had to pick out a new outfit just for you all, and call in the chopper last minute. Traffic is such a bore, don’t you think?”

A chopper. He actually said that with a straight face.

You resisted the urge to scoff and finally looked up. He towered over his own guards, dressed in a crisp lilac shirt and perfectly tailored black pants — crease-free, of course. A hat and sunglasses masked most of his face, but his presence screamed money. And ego. His outfit alone looks like the most expensive thing in the room.

“Now then, let’s begin.” He drags a chair into the spotlight and casually scans the room. “I won’t have time for everyone, unfortunately. Any volunteers?”

A sea of hands shot up. Nearly every woman squealed, frantically waving to get his attention.

“Eenie, meenie, miney…” he points slowly, theatrically. “You. In the back.”

No way. He was pointing at you.

“Me?” you croak, blinking. Fuck. You were still skimming lines and absolutely not ready to go first. Every woman in the room whipped their head toward you like you’d just spit in their coffee.

“Yes, you! Come on, don’t be shy.”

“Who even is she?”

“What’s she wearing?”

You tried to ignore the whispers as you made your way up, rehearsing your lines silently like a mantra. Don’t trip. Don’t freeze. Don’t vomit.

Fuck. You’ve had less than twenty-four hours to study this script, and you were nearly praying that you went last, just so you had extra time to study. 

Well, shit. There was no going back now. You just had to stay calm and say the lines. You can do this. You can do this. You can do this.

You kept your head down, glancing at your phone on your walk up, trying to get as much prep time as you could. Once you were underneath the lights with your scene partner, you slid your phone into your back pocket, finally giving you a chance to focus on your duo.

“Let’s get started.” That voice… it sounded so fucking familiar. 

The man was huge up close — broad, tall, with an annoyingly familiar energy. He pulled off his sunglasses and tossed them to one of his guards, then peeled off his hat in one smooth motion, shaking his snowy white hair like he was starring in a Maybelline commercial.

And then it hit you.

Oh. My. God.

It was him. The asshole from the hospital lobby.

Your scene partner was none other than the world’s most sought-after model.

Satoru fucking Gojo.

[geeangrey2004]

Shattered Sekai AU: NIGHTCORD @ 25:00

NightCord at 25:00: A group of girls brought together originally by their collective despair. The four of them were collectively inspired by the event RAD Weekend in one way or another. They have decided to band together and surpass a legend without knowing the others’ motivations. 

Characters

Ena Shinonome: The group’s founder and leader. After her brother sustained an injury that rendered him completely mute permanently, she took on his dreams to fill the void left by her own crushed aspirations. She would perform outside Kamiyama High School to practice, getting more bitter as time progressed, and no one stopped to listen to her. She was about to give up, hating herself for not keeping the fire of her brother’s dream going, when she was confronted by Mizuki. Mizuki tells Ena she likes her singing and brings her to Weekend Garage. The two agree to team up, forming the group Enamia. She suggests teaming up with K of the group NIGHTCORD  after she hears their songs. 

Mizuki Akiyama: A girl who faces horrible bullying at school and has no close allies. She wishes to live as herself despite what others say. She’s found by one of her classmates after a case of prolonged harassment and brought to Weekend Garage. While there, Mizuki witnesses a performance by a street group that plays AMVs behind their routines and is instantly hooked. She became the street musician Amia, who created AMVs for her performances. She encounters Ena singing outside the gates of Kamiyama High School and is enthralled. She brings Ena to the Weekend Garage and offers to become her teammate, hoping to surpass Rad Weekend and prove that AMV singers can be the future. 

Mafuyu Asahina: A girl who is systematically emotionally abused by her mother to the point she’s forgotten who she is. One night while walking home, she hears music coming from a building and sees the mysterious DJ K playing at an event. K’s song makes her feel something other than the cold numbness she's been trapped in since middle school, and she becomes obsessed. She goes to all of K’s events and follows every song she puts on YouTube, to the point that her grades start slipping because she is doing more research on K than studying. She saw that K was looking for a partner to write and sing lyrics for her songs, and Mafuyu applied. The two of them teamed up and did events together late at night when Mafuyu was able to sneak out of the house. 

Kanade Yoisaki:  Grew up adjacent to Vivid Street. Her mother used to go to Weekend Garage all the time to read before she died, and then her father would bring her to the cafe when he needed a quiet place to work. After her father was hospitalized from overwork, she began wandering the streets like a ghost. Her grandmother wasn’t able to support her financially, necessitating her getting a job. She got a part-time job at Weekend Garage and only really left the house to work. She was determined to write a song that would spread the most hope, but she couldn’t compose if her internet got turned off. One night, while wandering the streets, she comes across RAD Weekend. She goes to watch, and is so inspired she begins working to surpass the event and spread the most hope humanly possible. She becomes a DJ to compensate for her bad health and writes songs that are a combination of Lo-fi and street. She teams up with Mafuyu, forming the group NIGHTCORD. 

Meadow Sekai Mochizuki Honami

Sekai

Meadow Sekai: a quiet field filled to the brim with flowers (Daffodils, carnations, and daisies), soft grass, and ivy. The flowers spread as far as the eye can see and are the only thing other than a light cloud covering.  It’s the only sekai with seasons, indicated by what flowers are in bloom. It also has a day-night cycle. It’s based on the park where Mafuyu and Kanade meet up for practice. 

Summer: Carnations

Spring: Daffodils

Fall: daisies

[infiniteeight8]

Yess prompts!! More of the Alpha/Alpha series!! Maybe Tony and Stephen reuniting after Afghanistan? ❤️❤️

I’ve been pondering whether or not I wanted this to be a no-superheroes AU for a while. I’ve been able to dodge the question so far, but I guess I have to decide now. 😂

Ultimately, the thing I enjoy about this mini-series is the relationship building. I have no interest in wedging that in around the edges of canon. Plus I’m already doing that for Alpha Dragon Tony Omega Fox Stephen, which makes me want to do it here even less.

So it’s official: This is a no-superheroes AU. Which means no Afghanistan and no car accident. That said, if folks are still interested, I have a couple ideas for other ficlets in this series, some porny (I mean, it started with smut and there’s been none since!) and some plotty.

For today, have Stephen (and Tony) trying to get Pepper and Rhodey on board with their relationship.

-

Stephen is struggling. 

It’s been a long time since he’s bothered to try to charm someone into liking him. It just hasn’t mattered to him. But Pepper and Rhodey are important to Tony, and their disapproval of his relationship with Stephen is wearing on him. Stephen is sure Tony wouldn’t break the bond over it, but he wants Tony to be happy, and he wants their relationship to continue growing, and that means he needs to wiggle into Pepper and Rhodey’s good graces somehow.

Unfortunately, while they’re being polite, drinks and appetizers are already done and they definitely haven’t warmed up to him at all. Stephen’s stomach is in knots that have him dreading the entree. Stephen and Tony’s affection for each other and their bond—probably mostly the bond—had gotten Pepper and Rhodey to agree to dinner, but it sure isn’t a get out of jail free card, and Stephen can’t figure out what to talk about. They don’t know anything about medicine, and he doesn’t know anything about business, or the military. They’d discussed the weather. Stephen has never felt so at sea in his life.

Despite knowing it’ll be a strike against him, Stephen excuses himself after the appetizers are cleared away and retreats to the bathroom for a breather. He’s leaning against one of the sinks when the door opens and Tony slips inside. Stephen groans. “I’m sorry. I just needed a minute.”

“It’s fine,” Tony says, coming over to lean against the wall next to him. “They’re being pretty remote.” Tony makes a face. “Honestly, I’m not sure they’re holding up their end of the deal. Freezing you out is not giving you a chance.”

“Please don’t argue with them on my behalf,” Stephen insists. “That’ll probably only make it worse.”

Tony grimaces in a way that says Stephen is right. “How can I help, then?”

“Topics of conversation,” Stephen says. “Apparently I’ve lost the ability to talk to anyone but doctors and potential donors.”

“We never had any trouble,” Tony says, smiling.

That’s not at all down to Stephen. “You listen to me about medicine. And somehow, everything you talk about is interesting.”

Tony laughs. “I think you may be the only person in the world who thinks so. I ramble, people start tuning me out.”

Stephen snorts. “Idiots. They don’t know what they’re missing. Literally.”

Tony gives him a brief, soft smile before shaking it off into something more businesslike. “Topics of conversation. Pepper has an art collection. Well, I have an art collection, but she manages it, it’s really more hers at this point. Rhodey is always good for college shenanigans. Other options…” They brainstorm for another minute before returning to the table, Tony’s hand resting warmly in the small of Stephen’s back. Stephen draws on that sensation to fortify himself before settling back into his chair.

By the time dessert comes, Pepper has thawed enough to smile and Rhodes is laughing. But the real victory is the happy sparkle in Tony’s eyes.

[arabellascented]

𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐘 𝐈𝐈𝐈

chapter warnings. psychiatric hospital of dubious origin. medical violence. mentions of mental disorders.

pairing. witch!hunter!constantine x witch!reader

synopsis. humanity always feared witches and their power. They viewed them as creatures that couldn’t exist. you, once a feared witch, had a red string connecting you to your past.

— Constantine, I swear, if you don’t have a good reason to be calling me at this time…— Angela’s groggy voice echoed in the telephone. The woman rubbed her eyes, flicking her lamp shade on. The grey cat resting at her feet meowed grumpily, jumping away from the noise.

— Angela, I need you to come to my place. — His voice was weary, but serious. — Are you being serious right now, Constantine? Why it can wait until tomorrow? — When she tried to argue, the telephone went mute, making her scoff. Of course, this was so like Constantine.

Against her will, Angela dressed up at midnight, driving to Constantine place.

— Well? What’s so important? — Angela asked, hanging her coat on the chair, looking at the innumerable books and files hanging on the dinner table. The smell of tabaco seemed to be permanent glued in the walls.

— What was the reason Isabel was hospitalized? — He asked, gaze not moving from the files in his hand. Angela stammered, caught off-guard. — Well, she was having hallucinations, John. She would also go weeks without speaking a single word… —

— And why Lennox? Why your parents choose that place? — She paused, trying to discover where his questions were leading. — Well… at first, my parents didn’t wanted to send Isabel away, but the priest of our church recommended Lennox…— Before she could even finish her phrase, Constantine banged his fist against the table, standing up.

— Come with me, Angela. — Without the energy to question him again, she only stood, following John to his car. The drive was quiet, with John’s unanswered questions.

— Well, can you at least tell me where are you taking me, Constantine? — Her tone was already strained and stressed. It was past midnight, and she was being driven to god-knows-where.

— Lennox. — He said, not looking away from the road. — WHAT? Are you crazy Constantine? It’s almost one a.m, what will you do there? —

— I need to collect patient files. — His vague explanation only served to make Angela more furious, and she scoffed, watching the familiar rode that leaded to Lennox.

She has been there only once, and the place made her erupt in chills in the same way it did when Isabel was brought there. It was dark, ugly and scary.

— Good place for someone insane. — His sarcastic comments were no longer offensive, but usual as Angela got used. John wasn’t the most sensible person to be around.

— Okay, so what is your big plan, John? — She asked, looking to the tall building.

— Act like you’re crazy. — He said, suddenly grabbing Angela’s arm, dragging her towards the building. Angela started to squirm, fight against him, screaming at John, but with no avail.

— You’re doing good. — He murmured with a dark chuckle, earning a elbowed to his ribs. — Fuck you, Constantine! —

The nurses where quick to help John, carrying a very distressed and screaming Angela inside. John was assisted by a doctor, and he had to hold a physical reaction at seeing the red pupils. He explained how Lennox was a safe building for woman, how they would help Angela, now undercover as Jessica Constantine, his sister. She was now standing by his side, listening attentively to the explanation, trying the hardest to not kick Constantine in the head. While she felt the betrayal ripping away her mind, Angela knew that the best option wouldn’t be to act was a treat.

— We will need a blood test from Miss Constantine, it’s a standard process. — He explained, guiding both of them to a infirmary. Angela was shaking from head to toe, being held in a medical bed by Constantine, watching the doctor opened archive in the wall, it was tall, with at least four or five drawers. Bingo.

Everything happened too fast for Angela to even comprehend. John punched the doctor in the face, wearing a gold brass knuckles. The man started to groan and scream, his skin melting from his bones.

— Angela, find Isabel files! — Constantine shouted at her, and wobbly, she jumped from the bed, rushing towards the drawer. Constantine was fighting with the doctor, punching his face repeatedly. Her hands were shaky, jumping from file to file, but they weren’t ordered by names, but rooms. In the back of her mind, she remembered Isabel rooms number, grabbing a thick, heavy file. He didn’t waited a single second, grabbing her arm and manhandling her for the second time. In the way, Constantine found the panic button, flicking it. A loud, incessant alarm echoed around the whole building, along with red lights almost blinding their sight. It was the perfect way for them to escape without any trouble, as every staff member rushed to enter in the asylum.

As soon as she considered she was at a safe distance from this hell of a place, Angela started screaming at John from the top of her lungs, hands frantically swatting every inch of his skin she could find.

— I can’t believe you had the courage to do this, your jerk! I could get locked in that hell! You betrayed me, Constantine! — Angela was absolutely livid, and John gave her this chance to recover.

— You have to trust me, Angela. I told you I wouldn’t let anything happen to you. — He said, but she only scoffed. Angela was tired, exhausted, she needed to sleep and rest.

— Fuck you, Constantine… — She murmured, before passing out in the car due to exhaustion, body aching after the adrenaline wave died down.

She woke up only when John arrived her apartment. Grumbling, she opened the door, eager to get away from Constantine as soon as she could.

— Chas will bring your car tomorrow. — He said, driving away. Angela scoffed, somehow still shocked at his lack of empathy.

— Constantine, do you have anything against

daylight? — Beeman asked ironically, and John scoffed.

— I need your help to understand this, Beeman.. — He opened the folder he and Angela brought from Lennox. Blood samples, collected from their thumb. Alongside with names, date of birth, mental diagnosis. Inside the folder, there was five records. Isabel Dodson, Aliyah Grant, Helen Lewis, Abigail Conway, [YOUR NAME]. In common, all of them had the same wine colored blood sample, instead of brown.

— Where did you grab this, Constantine? That’s… that’s impossible..— Beeman was perplexed, analyzing the records with wide eyes. This type of blood hadn’t been recorded since the end of the inquisition.

— Beeman, can they really be witches? — Constantine tone was almost desperate. — Well, John, that’s a difficult answer. All I have are theories, but nothing proved. —

— But that matches. All these woman in Lennox had something in common. All of they had hallucinations, out of common behavior.. this has to be —

— Witches are still a riddle, John, they always have been. —

It was already morning when you woke up. Your body was aching from sleeping on the floor with only a thin comforter, but at least you rested your mind. When you climbed the stairs towards the lounge, you had almost a shock to see everything so calm, so quiet. The only person was Papa’s, pouring himself a drink on the empty bar.

— Good morning…— You said, a little bit shy, a little bit cautious. He answered back, calling you to sit at a stool. Curious, you sat. You expected to be dispatched as soon in the morning, not a talk.

— I said before, I can’t intervene in the balance, the divine balance of the world. It could mean chaos, the world destruction… — He started, and you looked down to your feet.

— I can’t understand a single thing you say..— You admitted, earning a chuckle from him. — I know you don’t. But you do know you’re different, right? — With a sigh, you nodded.

— People like us, kid, we are simply different, from this whole world. You’re still going to discover a lot of things you don’t want to, and I really hope the luck is on your side. —

— It doesn’t make sense, Midnight.. What are you? What am I? Why are you even helping me? — You asked, this time looking up to his face. He was so eccentric, using a collar made of bones and a dark fur coat.

— That’s your burden to discover. What I can say is that people from our kind, always been walking side to side in history. — There was almost compassion in his voice, and you nodded with a sigh. — Be careful, kid. The world is always harsher than you expect. —

While you walked in the busy streets, your mind screamed at you. You needed to find a solution, a path, anything to keep you going. That’s when you fiddled in your pocket, only to find fifty dollars handing there. Sighing in relief, you mentally thanked Papa. That meant food, at least for some time.

While you ate at a hot dog booth, you could mentally organize your ideas. The only piece of the puzzle you had now was Constantine. Isabel talked about him, papa talked about him, and you hoped he could help you to find the meaning of all of this.

After a long day of searching for him, you finally found his address. It was a dark, dingy and mucky apartment complex above a bowling place. With a sigh, you knocked on his door. When he opened the door, showing his dark, profound brown eyes, you felt a shock to your entire being, as it struck by lightening. You felt something changing, something deep, pulling and tugging, as if the atmosphere around you sat heavier. From dust to dust.

[yoosung-ah]

Choose your player: aggressive vs. passive-aggressive round 1/?

[originalgenshinscenarios]

Okay I'm done with Natlan and Citlali's quest

My opinion on Citlali improved slightly, but the rest... Ehhh... No. I'm not gonna say that Natlan was bad, cause ngl for me the most boring archon quest was Sumeru. (And I'm saying it because of the fact that the dream loop was ridiculous and I hated it just as much as I hate Nahida which is a ToN)

Spolier rant in tags

[icewindandboringhorror]

I'm so heavily anti-advertising that all pitches sound goofy silly to me/I can never take them seriously, so I have no idea how I'll manage to to advertise my game even if I do finally finish it soon-ish lol...

[savage-rhi]

🫂

[habitual-creatures]

HABIT! I was trying to find smth but found THIS INSTEAD!

It’s a fur, pelt, thing (idk what it’s called) of a rabbit!

(LEGALLY BOUGHT)

(IT'S CALLED A PELT)

DAMN THAT'S SO SICK! I FUCKING LOVE THAT.

OF COURSE IT'S AWESOME TO SUPPORT LEGAL PELT COLLECTION LIKE THAT.

(FUCK POACHERS AND ILLEGAL PELT PEDDLERS 🖕 BY THE WAY)

I AM A HUGE FAN OF TAXIDERMY AND VULTURE CULTURE MYSELF. SO SEEING OTHERS TALK ABOUT THEIR OWN COLLECTION OR THINGS THEY'VE FOUND AND BOUGHT IS AWESOME!

[ REGARDS, HABIT ]

[everydaythesame69]

Portal pussies are so fucking hottt 😖 imagine you can't make rent one month, so in a desperate attempt you decide to sell your holes online. $20 and any man, anywhere can use your holes whenever he wants. It felt like easy money, you could just delete the account after you made enough.

But it got a little out of hand, hundreds of men using you, all day everyday. You can barely make it out of bed. Brushing your teeth in the morning while your ass is being stretched. Trying to eat breakfast but men won't stop fucking your throat long enough. You Definitely can't leave the house. You've tried.

You didn't trust yourself to drive so you took the bus. Big mistake. Somehow you made it to the bus stop with minimal interruptions, only one subscriber, fucking your dripping cunt, hard and fast. Making you grab onto a nearby tree for support as your legs shook. That should have been your first sign to just go him. But you're too stubborn for that.

Thankfully he came quick, leaving you to collect yourself and finish your walk. The bus, however, was another story. You were just sitting down when you felt a massive cock pushing into your ass, stretching you more than you've ever been stretched before. Making you tense and cry out before quickly covering your mouth, the other passengers turning to look at you. Your face turns bright red from the embarrassment of being used like this in front of all these strangers, even if they have no idea whats happening. The cock in your ass picks up the pace, the pain almost unbearable. Making you regret selecting anal as on option in the first place. You hated anal, but the site said it would boost sales. Anyway its far too late to take it back now.

You're shaking uncontrollably at his unrelenting pace, doing your best to stay silent, trying not to attract more attention, unsuccessfully. You turn towards the window, still feeling eyes on you as the bus starts moving. Trapping you here, completely helpless to stop it, or hide yourself. Suddenly another cock enters your neglected pussy, shorter but equally thick. Making your eyes roll back as his fat head rubs against your g spot. The humiliation of it all is enough to make you cry. You can't help but moan through your fingers under the assault, feeling that pressure build as the torture goes on, and desperately trying to fight it. Hoping maybe they'll be fast like the last one. Of course you wouldn't be that lucky, though. Cock number 2 speeds up, chasing his release while the one in your ass fucks you at his steady, rhythmic pace. This goes on for what feels like an eternity. You can't hold it back anymore, you feel yourself tense, squinting all over yourself with a sob. Soiling your light blue jeans with a large, noticeable wet spot. Utterly humiliated, and it's not even over. Cock #2 cums almost immediately after you, just to be replaced by another. You don't get a break for over an hour, missing your stop and forgetting why you even left in the first place.

Good luck getting home

[aethercoreheart]

caleb | 1:22 am

Your pillow is buzzing. Why is it buzzing? You groan and reach underneath your pillow, grasping at your phone. You pull it out, sit up in bed and blink at it. Caleb's name flashes across the screen. You swipe your finger across it.

"Caleb?"

There's a pause before the voice on the other end coughs awkwardly.

"Uh... is this... Pipsqueak?"

You're immediately alert. The voice doesn't belong to Caleb.

"Who is this?" you demand, your voice still thick with sleep.

"You were listed as this guy, Caleb's, emergency contact," the voice explains. "He's at the bar. We've had to cut him off. Can you come get him? We close in, like, half an hour."

You're immediately out of bed, pulling sweatpants and a hoodie on. "Oh my god, of course, I'm on my way."

You're stuffing your feet into shoes when you hear someone slurring his words in the background. "Hey, that's my phone, gi-gi-give it back!"

---

"You're too nice to him, my wife would have made me sleep and sober up outside."

You chuckle at the taxi driver's remark. You were lucky to flag down a cab at this time in the night. The driver had asked you were you were going so late, and you had explained everything to him. You and Caleb had been giving each other the silent treatment for two days now. It was over something stupid. He had left one of his unfinished models lying around on the floor in your apartment and you hadn't seen it - you had ended up stepping on it - on accident, of course - but you had never seen Caleb so upset. It ended with him storming out of your apartment and no calls or texts from him for the last couple of days. You had thought about apologizing first, but had decided he was being childish and that he would approach you when he was ready. But it turns out that he had decided to drown his sorrows in alcohol. You had known that he likes to drink socially once in a while, but he's never been totally wasted before - not like this. You wanted to seem calm and collected, but inside, your anxiety is tearing you up. Is Caleb okay?

The driver slows down and pulls up to the bar. He meets your eyes in the rearview mirror.

"Go get him, I'll wait here."

You thank him, and head inside the bar. The glass door is already locked, but you knock a couple of times, and a staff member appears from behind the bar and lets you in.

"Sorry," he apologizes, scratching the back of his head. "We would have sent him home in a cab but he wouldn't tell us his address. He kept saying he wanted 'Pipsqueak'. He's a regular here so we really didn't want to let him wander home by himself."

You nod at the bartender. "Thank you. Where is he?"

He points at one of the corner booths with his thumb. You make a beeline for it, and see Caleb, lying across the booth's cushion. His cheeks are flushed red and he's snoring lightly, his hand gripping his phone.

You shake him gently to wake him. "Caleb, let's go home."

He groans and lifts his head slowly. "Please, leave me alone. I have... I have a..." His eyes open and they widen when they meet yours. "Pipsqueak," he whispers.

You place a hand on his cheek. "Let's get you home, okay?"

---

It was a mission to get Caleb in the cab, even with the help of the bartender. It's an even bigger mission to get him into your apartment building and up the stairs. But you manage to do it, and get him inside the apartment without incident.

Almost there!

You practically haul him to your room, and push him onto the bed. He flops onto it like a ragdoll, one arm and both his legs hanging off the sides.

You stare at him, hands on your hips, panting quietly. "Well, that can't be too comfortable."

You take a few moments to catch your breath before you decide to tackle his jeans and shoes - they come off easily enough, and then you get to work on his shirt. His eyes are still closed and he's muttering something softly, but you can't take the time to figure out what he's saying. You start to put on some shorts for him, but it's awkward and you only manage to get one leg in.

"Caleb, Caleb." You squeeze one of his knees to wake him again. "I need your help, sit up for a little bit."

This seems to rouse him and Caleb lets out a low groan and rises slowly.

"Okay, let's just get these shorts on."

Caleb is still for a few moments, and you think he's fallen asleep again while sitting up. But he mumbles something almost imperceptible, and you almost miss it. He's saying your name.

You look up at him from where you're crouching next to the bed, and meet his bloodshot eyes. There are tears forming at their corners.

You're startled - you're not used to seeing him cry. "Caleb? What's wrong?"

"I'm so sorry," he whispers. You can smell the alcohol in his breath. "I was so stupid. I'm sorry."

A lump in your throat forms and you have to turn away before he can see the tears in your own eyes. You clear your throat before speaking again. "Let's talk about it in the morning, okay? Just get in the shorts and then we can go to bed."

Caleb nods, and pulls his shorts up so that they're on properly. You breathe a sigh of relief, and help him get under the covers of the bed.

You go about settling down for the night again, making sure the front door is locked, all lights are off, and placing a packet of headache medication and a glass of water on the nightstand next to Caleb's side of the bed.

You slide in under the covers next to him, and notice that he's still awake, his eyes struggling to focus on you.

"Pipsqueak," he mutters, his eyelids fluttering. "Please, don't be mad at me any more."

You smile at him, amused at the fact that he fought to stay awake to tell you that. You brush the hair away from his forehead with your hand and plant a small kiss on it. Caleb sighs, and he closes his eyes, surrendering to sleep.

"You're the one who didn't call or text for two days, dumbass," you mumble, knowing that you'll go unheard. You don't care. You continue raking your hands through his hair as he snores softly.

[thewingedwolf]

one goofy ass thing i like about my job is we all really like having staff feedback after programs (like after in service, after summer reading, etc) because it just makes it easier to make it actually helpful and easier next time around and that’s all we want right, like PERSONALLY i don’t want to be anxious about a program and dreading it all year, which means i get to do what i Love which is offer my opinion constructively so i can be like “i think some people just don’t understand paylocity, it is a little confusing & for them, going through that app is this scary time sink so they don’t open it ever.” and no one is taking it personally because five other people wrote in “beanstack scares me” and “i’m not using teams” and we can just adjust our expectations of our older coworkers instead of writing people up for it akskd.

[nausallien]

THE SIMS 3 STORE PRE-INSTALLED

Today marks 25 years of The Sims. Since EA forgot TS3 exists, I’m releasing the entire The Sims 3 Store as an Anniversary Gift. It's all pre-installed and works flawlessly!

It comes with all available fixes and collection folders I’ve personally created for every set. You'll get over 5000 new Buy/Build and CAS items, 11 new worlds, and tons of new gameplay!

INSTRUCTIONS

Go to "Documents/Electronic Arts" and rename the "The Sims 3" folder (or move it).

Create a new folder and name it "The Sims 3" (or whatever the name is in your language).

Extract the contents of the ZIP file in "The Sims 3." Now launch the game.

You'll have to adjust your setting again. Don't forget to disable the in-game Store so you don't get duplicates.

Quit the game. Copy the "Saves" folder from the folder you have previously renamed. You can also copy your Mods and CC in package format.

CAUTION

Never copy over or overwrite the DCCache folder.

If you have content installed through the Launcher (Sims3Pack), you'll have to reinstall it.

I strongly recommend you don't install things through the Launcher from now. It already has a lot of content and it is a known fact the Launcher becomes more and more unstable the more content it has to handle.

Since the entire Store has been decrapified, if you want to install lots or world that contain Store content, you'll have to decrapify those too using MATY's TS3 Recompressor.

I had a report that there was an invisible top in CAS. It doesn't seem to have a CASP resource so it shouldn't cause any issues (like being assigned to a random Sim). It's best to avoid it or hide it or blacklist it using NRaas mods. Do NOT try to save the game while your Sim is "wearing" this invisible top.

UPDATE #1: MARCH 2025

Added some missing content: the Mother Russia CAS Set and the Cool Chap Cap that was given as a secret bonus item in the "Make Me an Offer" page. If there's something else missing, please let me now.

Now NRaas MasterController and the Cheats and Integration modules are included in the pack. This version NRaas MC comes with CAS Compact Mode enabled by default. This should fix the issue of blank/invisible CAS items and also speed up the loading of CAS items. Keep in mind, these mods aren't compatible with Lazy Duchess' Smooth Path, but you can have both. Her mod will automatically disable the fast loading of CAS items.

If you encounter any issues, feel free to reach out to me. I've put a lot of effort into making the installation process as smooth and straightforward as possible. Dag Dag!

DOWNLOAD FROM GOOGLE DRIVE

[tonycries]

A Million Dollar Baby! - N.K.

Synopsis. Turns out, rent can be paid in much more than one way.

Pairing. Nanami Kento x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, landlord! Nanami (kinda), oraI (male + fem), cúmplay, reader’s a tease, unprotected, creampíe, down bad FERAL Nanami, spítting, bréeding, messing up his glasses, pantý-stealing, he’s sweet but fúcks so MEAN, mentions of Higuruma, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.8k (wild)

A/N. Decided it was high time I feed my Nanami girlies hehe.

“Just get the money and go.” Nanami deadpans, like a mantra. Giving a rapt knock on your apartment door, “I swear m’making him buy me lunch for this.”

Now, it wasn’t that Nanami was exactly upset about taking over Higuruma’s landlord duties for the day - no, in fact, he was the first one at his friend’s door with a bag of prescription medicine for the other man’s fever and the suggestion to take the day off.

But it was the thought of finally coming face-to-face with you - that mysterious new tenant that’d just moved into his building. The one that had Nanami wondering whether you were really as “sugary sweet n’ irresistible” as Higuruma raved you were. 

Though, he can’t imagine you’d be particularly happy about being woken up at 10am on a Sunday for overdue rent - he certainly wasn’t.

Seriously, he had no idea how Higuruma managed to do this every-

Click!

“Higu- you’re not Higuruma.”

Oh, and suddenly, Nanami gets it.

If he got to see this view, too, then he might just become the landlord himself.

It’s as if you knew you’d be playing with his sanity as soon as you opened that door, dressed in a fitted t-shirt that did absolutely everything to show off every bit of skin he shouldn’t be looking at. Your lips curving into a sinful little smirk when you notice his eyes dancing off that excuse of fabric you call “shorts”.

“Um…” you hum, after a few moments of silence. Leaning against your wooden door frame to give the tall man an appreciative one-over, “Nanami, right? You’re Higuruma’s friend?”

It’s as if the sound of his own name jolts Nanami right back into his senses, clearing his throat as he readjusts his glasses. “Y-yes. Nanami Kento.” And he winces, fuck he’s never stuttered like this. Never, even in the toughest of board meetings. Yet, here he was - making a fool out of himself. 

Knowing he’s completely fucked when your delicious grin only widens, he bows politely, “Apologies for barging in like this, ma’am. But Higuruma’s sick n’ m’here to collect the rent in his place.”

You wave off his formality, introducing yourself. “Ah, of course. I’ve seen you around, always been too nervous to come up and say hello, though.”

And, suddenly, Nanami’s glad you never came up to him to talk out of your own volition, he thinks he’s rather put off embarrassing himself for later. Coughing softly, “I apologize, s’my fault. It was rude of me to not introduce myself first.”

“Well, better late than never, right?” you continue in your smooth tone. Before your eyes catch down his broad shoulders, the bob of his Adam’s apple, the clipboard held between his long, long fingers. “Right- the overdue rent. I swear, Higuruma’s always such a sweetheart, he doesn’t bother to remind me.” Opening your door wider to give Nanami a good look inside your cozy apartment - something forbidden. “Come in come in, I seem to have lost my wallet somewhere in here though, maybe you can help me find it.”

Oh? 

And Nanami knows this is dangerous. He knows this is much more than his simple plan earlier of just “get the money and go”. He knows that little glint in your eye certainly does not bode well for him as soon as he steps through that door. 

Yet, he answers anyway, “Of course, lead the way.”

Every bit of small talk in your sultry voice has Nanami gulping, loosening his favorite yellow tie while he follows you inside. Averting his eyes from the curve of your shorts, he takes in the neat state of your apartment. 

That is, until-

“Here we are.” you lead him to a towering pile of clothes piled unceremoniously on your tv room couch. Gesturing airily at the mess, “I’m sure I left my wallet in one of my pants, so you can just sit here until I-”

“I’ll do it.” Nanami’s quick answer stuns the both of you momentarily. But before you can resist, he’s shrugging off his jacket, ignoring the heat of your gaze when he bunches up his sleeves to reveal strong, veined forearms. “It’s only fair, since m’bothering you so early.”

You chuckle, “Oh? What a gentleman, we can do it together then, handsome.”

So here he was - sat on your cramped couch, your thighs flush against his, tackling your laundry. This was definitely a far cry from getting the rent and leaving - but, alas, Nanami can’t find it in himself to complain when he neatly folds up your clothes. 

Whereas you were hastily throwing them god-knows-where, hissing, “Where- is it-” 

“Patience.” he’s humming, placing another t-shirt on your coffee table. “Higuruma’s in no hurry, he can barely get out of bed right now.”

You click your tongue in frustration, “But you, Nanami-”

“-are perfectly fine helping you out.” Nanami cuts in, flashing you a gentle smile. Your eyes widen at the sight of a soft dimple at the corner of it. Which makes him tear his gaze from that pretty pout on your lips to turn back to his dwindling half of the pile, “Besides, it would be a shame if such a nice apartment was messed up by- by-”

Fuck. 

Was that what he thought it was?

His fingers tremble, looking so fucking big wrapped around that those tiny strings of hot pink. Sinful. Obscene. Shit, if he tried he could just rip it to pieces with his bare hands right now - even if you’d been wearing it.

“Hm?” you’re gasping at the sight of the man before you, body stiff, ears a guilty red, gaze hardening at where he was holding onto one of your panties. Oh, shit. You pluck the offending piece of material from his hands, “Oh- whoops. Um- that can’t really be folded.” Throwing a wink at the flustered man - and the lingerie right back at him. “Evidently.”

It was all too much for Nanami, and he’s bringing a hand up to cover his blush - before ripping it off like it burned when he realized it was the same hand he held your panties with. 

Somehow, he manages to choke out, “Maybe- maybe we should try looking somewhere else.”

And it was true - the few messy clothes now leftover (and…Nanami couldn’t forget, your underwear) didn’t show any signs of hiding your wallet. 

“If you say so~” you muse, getting up from your seat - only to get down on your knees. Right in front of Nanami’s manspread legs. 

“Wh-what are you-”

“Under the couch.” you interrupt, enjoying this way too fucking much for the poor man’s sanity as you flash him a cheeky grin. And he smacks himself mentally for letting his imagination be toyed by your teasing whims. “I might’ve dropped it under the couch, so won’t you be a dear and help lift it while I look?”

He couldn’t get up fast enough, almost stumbling over his long legs to crouch down beside you - just anywhere away from this scandalous position. “Ready?” Nanami rasps, biceps bulging tight against his button-up when he easily tilts over your couch. 

“More than.” you take a second longer to admire him before going back to your mission.

Which - whatever’s left of the rational part of Nanami’s brain really thinks might just be to drive him insane instead finding that fucking- what was it- wallet? 

“Hmmm seems it’s not here either, right, Ken?” He doesn’t know what he’s reeling at more - the fact that you used his first fucking name or the way you were arched so teasingly like that. On your knees, spine curving into a delicious little bend that has the crotch of his pants growing just a bit tighter. And- shit he was wrong. So, so wrong. Because those weren’t a sinful pair of shorts like he’d initially thought after all, instead, they were more like underwear. Flimsy and thin, bunching up perfectly at the crease of your hips. 

You were captivating. 

At his heavy silence, you bat your lashes so deceivingly innocently, “Oh? Was it the name? Sorry, Nanami, you’ve just helped me so much that it ah- slipped out. I won’t do it again.”

“No.” he grits out, the both of you surprised by the ragged hitch in his answer. Already so disgustingly missing the sound of his first name rolling off your tongue. “I’d like it if you called me that- ‘Ken’ that is, if you want.”

“Well then, Ken.” you brush up unnecessarily against his sculpted body as you move to get up and dust yourself down. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but my wallet’s not down there.”

Shit, he thinks, looking down at the empty spot of carpeted floor for the first time. You little tease, you knew what you were doing. 

Grinning unabashedly as you tug on his arm, “Come on! There’s one more place to look.”

As you pulled him along to the kitchen, Nanami had held out the hope that maybe - just maybe - this would be an actual attempt at finally paying off your overdue rent. Maybe he could walk out of this unscathed and holding onto whatever’s left of his dignity (and lacking the raging boner that was threatening against his slacks right now).

But every feeble hope of that was thrown out the window the moment you instructed him to hold the rickety, certainly unsafe chair propped up in front of your counter steady. 

“I swear I must’ve left it somewhere up there.” you grumble. Not wasting a moment before climbing onto it and rifling on top of your high cabinets. “No harm in trying, right?”

He gulps, palms getting sweaty on the wooden back of the chair with the effort to keep it still. “Are you sure you left it on top of there?”

“Huh? Yes yes, of course.” you answer absentmindedly. Your shirt snagging on your arms as you raise them even higher, “Think you can see something from down there?”

If Nanami could see the top of your shelves, then he didn’t want to find out - not when one glance upwards blessed him with a forbidden glimpse right up your t-shirt. All it took was a flash of skin before he was hit with the realization that you weren’t wearing a bra. 

“Ken~”

“Fuck!” he breathes, when he looks up involuntarily at the sound of his name. Face burning when you raise a brow, “U-um, m’not sure.” 

Yeah, he sure could see something - hell, he wanted to see more. 

He urgently swipes at the sweat slowly beading at his forehead, immediately regretting his actions when the chair tips ever-so-slightly. “Shit, I apologize, n’ I also apologize for what I’m about to do-” He gasps over your soft yelp, before wrapping two warm hands around the small of your waist. Searing. Soft. Planting you softly on the firm floor like some lil’ ragdoll, “-but I can’t let you put yourself in danger this way.”

Before you know it, you’re back in the safety of the ground. Stood right in front of a determined Nanami as he cranes his head up in your stuffy kitchen, backed up against the counter as he takes over looking for your wallet. 

“Let me, instead.” he grunts. 

But oh even with how genius he thought it was to look instead - even with how he stopped himself from looking at that sinful little slice of heaven - Nanami Kento had another problem. 

A problem that presented itself in the way that your body was pressed flush against his muscled chest, two of your thighs straddling his thick ones. Caged perfectly against him, exactly in the way he shouldn’t have been imagining - but did, anyway. And shit if he angled his body just right he could feel the heat of your core - the way your eager front was drawing in closer. 

“Ah-” he grunts when your soft palm glides lightly across his pecs. Jaw clenching while he tries to blink his hazy eyes back into the glaringly empty top of your cabinets, “My apologies, seems uh- your wallet isn’t- here-” 

Each word is wrenching out of his pretty, worry-bitten lips, a ragged gasp with every accidental brush of the pads of your fingers at the hem of his tight pants. 

“It isn’t there, hm?” you purr, a low honeyed tone that has all the blood in Nanami’s body rushing to his fat cock. “Well what do you suppose we do about that, Ken? Since I can’t pay the rent?”

Nanami doesn’t know whether you’re talking about the rent or that massive tent in his pants he really couldn’t explain away. Instead, he spits, “You knew what you were hah- doing, didn’t you, you lil’ minx? You don’t have your fuckin’ wallet here.”

And the air is so thick, so heady that he can only bring himself to pull away mere millimeters from where he was hovering near your face. 

But even that was too much - and in a split-second, you have your deft fingers wrapped tightly around his speckled tie. “And if I did?” Pulling close enough to ghost your lips against his, “You’re smart, Ken. So m’asking once again, what do you suppose we do about that?”

As if to draw out the answer from him, you’re giving a long, hard drag of your hot cunt along the outline of his swollen cock. You could almost feel every throb and nudge of his veins along the side, and it made you salivate.

“I suppose…” he answers, guttural, like some dark, primal part of himself is peaking its head out with each hot breath fanning your face. A large hand coming up to squish your cheeks into a pretty pout, pursing your lips perfectly for him. “That you hit me if you don’t like this, darling.”

And fuck for all how much of a gentleman Nanami acted - he kissed the exact opposite. All but ruining your lips in such a messy clash of teeth and tongue and him. Devouring you. 

“Fuck- shoulda known.” he’s letting out a humorless laugh, swiping his tongue across your glossy lower lips. “Should’ve known when you invited me in. Such a tease.” Drinking in your breathless moans, sucking on your tongue, “Such a- ngh- horny lil’ thing. This what you wanted all along?”

You hum into the kiss so drunk, “Maybe.” Dancing your hands all across where his toned muscles were fighting against the restraints of his shirt, “But you really can’t blame me.”

And maybe it was true - maybe this was inevitable. Either way, Nanami didn’t know, nor did he really care - not when you were letting out such sweet gasps when he bites down on your bottom lip - just a little punishment. Kissing his way down your heated skin, giving a languid lick at where he suspected that secret sensitive spot on your neck would be. 

“Oh! Ken.” you moan. Bingo. 

He’s unbuttoned his shirt now - or maybe it was you. Fuck, either way you couldn’t tear your eyes off of his pretty washboard abs. Curving and dipping like he was sculpted meticulously. 

And that’s all it takes for your already-dripping cunt to grow impossibly wetter, and he could feel it leaking through those flimsy cotton shorts of yours. Forming a messy sheen right at that damp spot of precum on his pants.

“You’re so fuckin’ wet, my love.” Nanami murmurs, swiping a thumb down that sopping wet slit of yours through your shorts. Just marveling at the way that simple touch makes another wave of your sweet sweet juices bead through the fabric. “Hah, absolutely dripping. This all f’me?”

At your half-delirious nod, he flashes you a smile so handsome that it only makes you squirm more impatiently. “How sweet.” Giving your nose a chaste peck, “So good to me. So needy.”

“You’re the same, though.” you accuse, hotly.

And it’s true - Nanami couldn’t deny the aching need of his cock, the way he all but moans in response, “Then tell me- hngh tell me what you want. I’ll give you- anything-” Managing to get out through hot, sloppy kisses planted right on your wobbly lips, “-anything.”

But, ah, you always did manage to surprise him. And instead of an answer, you’re getting right down on your knees in front of him like you did not too long ago - though, this time, you’re reaching up to fumble with his belt. 

“Wan’ taste you.” you huff when his expensive notches prove too stubborn. “Wan’ feel you in my mouth so bad, Ken.” 

“Oh yeah?” he chuckles darkly, easily loosening his belt and his pants along with it. Rock-hard cock sensitive and just smearing a pool of precum where his fat head springs up to hit your lips. Such a pretty shade of gloss. Nanami laces his hand on your scalp to guide you forwards, slowly, “Then take it. Take it f’me, pretty.”

He was so pretty that you possibly couldn’t not - a delicate blushing red at his very tip, glistening and absolutely soaked in precum down the long path to his creamy base, his heavy balls. So girthy that it made your cunt clench in anticipation.

And then there’s no more talking. Hell, you barely get enough time to admire Nanami’s massive cock before he’s bullying it between your lips. Wetting his thick, angry tip with your saliva, just enough to eye down at the way your lips bulge so prettily around him. 

“Gonna hafta open w-wider if you wanna take me, pretty. Open hah- yeah jus’ like that.” He’s reeling your head back, all the way till you were just kissing at his thick, angry tip. “Now spit on it, my love.”

Despite being the one to say it, Nanami’s mouth drops into a fucked-out little oh! of disbelief when you’re readily decorating his swollen length with a steady stream of spit. Your soft palms smearing the saliva along his length. 

You’re slurring, “After all, I still haven’t found my wallet, right?”

And oh he doesn’t even have to ask for what comes next - doesn’t even have to make a noise. 

Immediately, you take him in inch by fucking inch. The deliciously salty twang taking over your senses, and he’s so hot and heavy over your tongue. Veins pulsing in a dizzyingly throb! throb! throb! against the roof of your mouth.

“Are you- are you sure you can-” You shut up his doubts by rubbing your hot tongue along every sensitive ridge you could reach. Bobbing your head at a quick, ruthless little pace to milk his pretty cock for all he’s worth. 

Nanami’s eyes roll to the back of his head. Was this what heaven felt like? 

“F-fuuuck, oh you-” his words are catching in his throat with each flick of the tip of your tongue against his sensitive slit. Just the way he liked it. “-ngh guess that sharp mouth of yours wasn’t just hah- good for teasing, huh?”

He’s running his mouth a mile a minute - the complete opposite of the reserved man that’d come knocking on your door. Hips grinding up into your warm tongue mindlessly, slow. Languid - like he didn’t even realize what he was doing. “Oh you feel so heavenly- so fuckin’ good it should be illegal.”

You can’t help but bat your teary eyes up at him in response, blinking away the lustful haze to drink in that utterly obscene sight above you. Nanami’s neat, blond hair uncharacteristically disheveled, stray strands sticking to his furrowed brow. Only deepening with each wrecked sigh that leaves his plump lips every time his abs flex with the movement of his fat head hitting the gummy back of your throat. 

He looks so pretty it makes you moan. 

Those electric vibrations going all the way down that wet divot on the tip of Nanami’s painfully hard cock to his heavy balls. 

“Oh shit- shit shit shit feels too good.” his words are slurring together, drunk off the way you gag around him. “Don’t do that don’t-” This only makes you drag your sloppy mouth down him deeper, syrupy moans sticking to

him all the while. 

“Fuck!” Nanami shudders. And he’s pulling you down - hard - barely letting you get a feverish little breath out until your nose is hitting the neat patch of blond at his base. Rubbing up against his toned pelvis. 

Still moving in deep, relentless thrusts inside your gummy cavern. “S’real fuckin’ hard to treat you as nice as I want when you act like that, my love.”

And, of course, the only response he gets are your pathetic, wet gurgles as you take him in faster. Cheeks hollowing to massaging his every sweet spot. Your jaw grinding against his twitching balls with each smack of his hypnotized hips against your mouth, fucking into you the way he wished he could do with your cunt. Frenzied. Sloppy. 

Yeah, this was heaven alright - but you were the fuckin’ devil. 

Of course, you wanted him to treat you like such a slut - so he does. 

Just dragging your stubborn mouth off of his twitching cock, Nanami only reaches down to place an accomplished peck on the pout of your mouth before hoisting you onto the counter. “What? You think I’d really ngh- cum before my darling girl?”

He’s groaning into your mouth, licking at the seam of your candied lips as two strong arms of his spread your legs so far apart it burned. “F-fuck, Ken-”

“Aw look. You’ve got another slutty pair, huh?” he gestures down at the drenched scrap of fabric you so proudly called “panties.” Sliding a thumb underneath to glide it underneath your puffy pussy lips. He’s echoing your sentiment from before, “Said you can’t find your hah- wallet, right?” Well, ya better start makin’ up for that now.”

In all of two seconds, Nanami’s hooking two fingers over your underwear - pulling - ripping. He was right -  Nanami takes a moment to admire your dripping cunt, glistening and needy for him - he could rip those panties right off of you. 

With just one hand pinning you to the cool marble of your counter, the other thumbing open your puffy folds, he’s giving all of your pussy a hot, open-mouthed kiss. 

“Mmm fuck-” he spits into your sloppy hole. Once. Twice. Letting it form a saturated little pool of your juices, before surging back nose-deep with a pained grunt. Again. And again. And again and again- “Jus’ as sweet- as sugary sweet ngh-”

Nanami didn’t think Higuruma knew about this little treasure trove when describing you - though, if he did, then he was well and fully intent on tongue-fucking every little thought out of him right now. 

“Hngh! Shit-” you’re keening when his greedy tongue laps up every bit of your syrupy sweet slick. Alternating - methodically, indecisively - between rolling over your throbbing clit and just dipping into your awaiting entrance. “It feels so- so good, Ken.”

“Yeah that’s right.” he gasps, wrapping those pretty pink lips of his to suck on your clit. Harsh. “Say my name- no, louder. Louder.” 

It’s all you can do to not just scream out his name without your neighbors filing a noise complaint. Dragging your sopping pussy all over his mouth - glistening and obscene right down the bottom half of his face all the way up to smear against his clear glasses. 

Such obscene squelches ring through your kitchen as Nanami keeps making out so messily with your sensitive nub. Ringing in your fucked-out brain, so obscene, so addictive that you barely even register the thick fingers dipping their way around your hole. 

You jolt when the cool metal of his glasses kiss your skin, “O-oh Ken what-” 

“Shhh shhh, darling.” he soothes. The tip of his manicured index circling around your elastic muscle. Hypnotic. “M’gonna take care of you. Gonna take such good-” With this, he’s bullying his fingers inside, “-care of you.”

Tears crinkle at the corners of your eyes at the sheer stimulation. Because for how sweet Nanami was talking you through this, he was absolutely ruthless on your cunt. Not half the man he was this morning - animalistic. Feral, even.

His sharp jaw grinding against your skin, fingers almost a blur with how depraved they were pumping in and out of you. Massaging every hidden corner of your plushy walls, yet you get the feeling that they were calculated. Nanami’s darkened eyes drinking in every whimper and twitch of your body over the glasses inching dangerously downwards. Searching, waiting for that one-

“Ngh!” You worry you’d have fallen off the counter if it wasn’t for Nanami holding you down. Body jolting at sudden electricity running through your veins, “Oh- fuck fuck fuck. Oh my god Ken, there. Right there–”

But before the sentence has even left your heavy lips, he’s hitting your g-spot once more. Easily finding the bullseye that has you bucking and arching into his mouth like such a slut. 

And this time - Nanami lets you use his mouth all you want. The fingers splayed out to pin you down moves to toy with your puffy clit. Rolling between his fingers while he hisses out syrupy sweet praises, “Shit, never liked m’name that much- ngh- but it sounds so pretty on your lips. So sweet. So- oh-” 

The sight of your cunt just beading with need has him kissing it once more. All over your sensitive nub, your ravaged hole, hell, even down to the mess of slick dripping down at your thighs. Faster. Sloppier. No rhythm or rhyme anymore. 

“M’so close.” you whine, weaving your fingers through his blond hair to help ride his face easier. Jolting with each purposeful flick of his tongue. “Gonna cum, Ken.”

“Cum then.” he answers, simply, grinning a guiltily glossy grin, “You’ve got a lot to make up for, right?”

And then you do - stars behind your eyes and that little nickname you’d made Nanami in your mouth. Over and over while he tonguefucks you through your high. 

“Fuck- fuck fuck fuck–” you whine, big fat tears rolling down your cheeks eat time he swiped at your sensitive spots, dragging it out longer. Until your soft whimpers were drowning out the squelches from below. Until you were blinking your spotty vision back. Until you were squirming your hips higher up the counter to pull away from Nanami’s unforgiving tactics. “M’too sensitive- Nana-”

He tuts, interrupting your orgasm-drunk babbles, “Tha’s not what you call me.” Pulling away just enough to hum, “All I did was eat this pretty cunt out, darling n’ you already forgot my name?”

You shiver - both at his mean little tone and the absolutely sinful sight between your shaky thighs. Nanami’s lips plump and irritated, eyes foggy - glasses even more so with all the sloppy dredges of spit and your slick.

Shit, you think he’s never looked prettier. 

“Is that so?”

It’s all you hear before you’re hit with his glasses being gently placed onto your nose bridge - followed shortly by the realization that oh, you said that out loud. But Nanami basks in your sudden shyness, giving your lips a chaste, lingering peck. “You dirtied my glasses, y’know. Now you have to make up for that on top of the rent.”

And by the feeling of his thick tip kissing at your pussy lips, you had a very good idea about how you’d be making up for it. Making a mess. Sliding the curve of his head up and down. Up and down up and down up and-

“B-but don’t forget.” you manage to grit out by the time he’s nudging his divot against your clit. “You have to make- hah- make up for-” 

In a fluid motion, you’re reaching your fingers to dig into the irresistible tan skin at his hips, all hard muscle and the thick fabric of where he’d pulled his pants down just enough. You press down on his bulging back pocket, smirk growing at the familiar flash of hot pink you could spy, “-my panties.”

The moment the obscene little accusation leaves your lips, you give a soft tug forwards. Nanami’s towering body being pulled easily to push his weeping tip past your puffy folds. 

“F-fuck.” he’s throwing his head back at the feeling. “You hngh- saw, huh?”

Oh, if he hadn’t been imagining this the moment he’d stepped inside your apartment then Nanami thinks he might’ve just passed out right then and there. 

Because you were so warm, so addictive wrapped around his cock - even when he’s barely even in. That he just has to keep going - after all, it’s for the rent, right?

It’s what he likes to think.

It’s what he whispers - over and over into your open mouth as he bullies his thick cock past your gummy entrance. Letting your plush walls suck the ever-loving soul out of him with each lazy, lingering grind just to fit himself inside. 

“O-oh! Shit-” your nails leave jagged red marks down Nanami’s broad shoulders when he stuffs you full. Desperate. “Y-you’re so big, Ken–” 

At this, you feel Nanami’s girth grow even wider, stretching your walls until it felt like he was molding your poor pussy to the shape. Just reaching into your lungs. You squeal, “Wait- you got bigger- what-”

“I know I know, You got it, my love.” he’s soothing your cries with sugary kisses at the corners of your mouth. Drawing slow, methodical circles on your clit in time with his experimental thrusts. “You got it. You can take it. Shhh shh-” He’s drinking in your cute mewls, cupping your pretty face with his free hand, “You’ll take it right? All of it, like my good girl? You’ve gotta make up for it, right?” At your delirious nod, “Words, pretty.”

“Yes, please.” You buck your hips in a sultry tandem matching his, the cool frame of his glasses still kissing at your skin. “M’gonna take it all like your good girl, Ken.”

Shit, he can feel himself growing even bigger just halfway into you, “Then-” Angling your teary face down to watch the mess down below. The way your greedy cunt was trying to milk each and every inch of him like it was delicious. “-look.”

You can’t tear your eyes away as he delves into you so filthy. 

Not waiting for your pathetic whines about him being “too big” - no, Nanami’s only pulling you back from escaping like some sextoy - his favorite one. Still toying sweetly with your clit while he pushes against that feeble ring of resistance. Once. Twice. Thrice. 

“Ken!” you’re yelping out when he finally bottoms out. Your swollen folds meeting his drenched hilt, blond tufts of hair brushing up against your pelvis. Sighing, ”Finally.”

“Finally?” he’s dragging out his words with an already-crooked, pussydrunk grin. Eyes wild - bewildered almost at how well you were taking him. “S-seriously? Did you say ngh- ‘finally’, my girl?” Each word has him tapping more strength behind those thrusts, faster. Harder. Spitting out so contendly, “Finally- hah. Such a slut f’me, hm?”

He’s plunging into you like such an animal right now, so harsh that it was almost difficult to pull back. To dare subject himself to not be buried inside your dripping cunt for even a split-second. 

In response, you lick a long stripe up the sensitive area of his neck, splaying out a hand to squeeze Nanami’s pec - and the rapid heartbeat you felt beneath it. “You’re not- ngh- any better.”

“I know.” Nanami leers, unabashedly kneading at your sore tits now. Fucking you harder and harder into the counter. Connecting his sweaty forehead with yours to look you right in the eyes as he gruffs, “I’ve been thinking about fucking this pretty cunt as soon as you opened that door, y’know.”

You feel his cock twitch wildly at the confession, dragging against your gummy walls with his tip. Hitting - oh-so-expertly - that one sensitive honeypot of nerves. Which makes Nanami’s mouth fall slack with what a treasure you were. 

“Y-you’re such a-” you’re moans are syrupy and slurring together now. Holding onto the larger man for dear life, “such a pervert, Ken.”

Shit, you were squeezing around him so hard that it was almost impossible to pull out. Abs straining to keep up the loud staccato of skin-against-skin, and Nanami’s long, jagged rams inside your wet heaven.

Nanami’s nosing down your pulse, letting his hot tongue loll out to catch the salty drops of your tears, “Mhm, only for hngh- you. Because you’re my girl now, aren’t ya?”

So easy for him to trawl out those addictive moans with each drag of the upwards curve of his fat cock. Thick tip hitting your g-spot, your cervix - as if he was branding his name into your pretty pussy from the inside. Sloppy. 

Leaving a bruising little Kento. With his erratic fingers pinching and rolling your clit at the same feverish tempo of his cock bullying inside your cunt - Kento. With his heavy balls smacking against your ass, sending jolts of white-hot pleasure all the way up to his sensitive slit, rubbing up against your succubus walls - Kento. With the way your heels were now digging into those dimples at the bottom of his spine, sure to leave marks with the way you were pulling him impossibly closer. So needy - Kento.

Only getting sloppier. The only thing in your mind right now - Kento Kento Kento-

So, really, it makes sense when that’s the only thing you’re capable of getting out once you cum. It sneaks up on you at first, and then all at once - and before you know it, you’re cumming so desperately all over Nanami’s relentless cock. 

Over and over.

Your thighs spasming, such a slutty ah! ah! ah! leaving your mouth with each wave of pleasure he’s forcing out of you by targeting your ravaged g-spot. Only a few more of those sloppy, mean thrusts left in the man himself before Nanami’s spilling into your greedy cunt. 

Painting your gummy walls white with each painful squeeze of his balls, he’s still thrusting - as if on instinct. Shoving his seed deeper and deeper down your cum-filled hole until he’s sure it’s overfilled. 

By god were you a vision, he’s thinking deliriously. Tears pooling at your eyes, drool dripping down the corner of your mouth, throat to shoot to do anything but whimper when he keeps going in and out in and out in and-

And if he angled his head just right, he could see the hot globs of cum that take to trickling out from your puffy folds, pooling at a mouthwateringly creamy base around his hilt.

“Ah,” Nanami wastes no time squeezing his index into your already-bulging entrance, pumping the cum slobbering out back in. “Better- hah- better not waste any-” He could barely speak right now, cumming harder than he has in his whole life - in fact, his overworked cock was still shooting out wispy spurts of his seed. Like he couldn’t stop. “-after all, y’haven’t made up for all the overdue rent yet, my love.”

A/N. Concept inspired by this NSFW audio by IchigekiVA that my friend sent me <3

Plagiarism of work not authorized.

[holeforzenin]

𝜗𝜚˚⋆ PRANKING ROOMMATE TOJI THAT YOU’RE MOVING OUT FOR APRIL FOOLS

Toji stepped through the front door, the familiar heavy thud of his leather boots clomping and echoing on the tiled floor. He dropped his keys with a clang and sighed as he leaned against the doorframe, clearly worn out from the day.

“Hey Toji,” you said as you stood by the doorway, trying to sound as calm and collected as possible, “Can we talk for a second?”.

His eyes narrowed slightly and you could tell he was already on alert because of the serious detection in your tone. “Yeah, what is it? You sound a bit too serious”.

You took a deep breath, practically forcing yourself to stay composed. “I’ve been thinking…” You hesitated for a moment, searching his face before finally saying it. “I think it’s time for me to move out”.

He blinked, clearly caught off guard. Ever since you’ve moved in together, things had been easy and comfortable. You two got along well, no drama, no issues, so this came out of nowhere.

His brow furrowed as he set his work bag down. “Wait, what? Why? You serious?”

You nodded slowly, watching his expression shift to disarray and confusion, maybe even a flicker of something else you couldn’t quite place.

“Yeah,” you said, keeping your tone steady. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while now. I’ve already started looking at places… I just think it’s time for a change”.

For a second, he didn’t say anything. He just stared at you, his tired and weary eyes scanning your face. You could see him trying to figure out if you were joking or not. After a beat, he stepped closer, his voice dropping a little. “Hold on. You’re really gonna just leave? Just like that?”

You nodded again, trying to keep up the act. “Yeah. I don’t want to be a burden, you know? With your job and everything… it’s just better if I go”.

He didn’t move at first, his arms crossed tightly, like he was trying to process what you said. You could see the gears turning in his head, his usual confident demeanor slipping just a little.

His jaw tightened, his broad shoulders looking even more imposing as he walked over to you. You could feel the tension building, and you had to hold back a grin. Toji was a tough guy— tougher than most people but right now, you could see the concern flickering in his eyes. It was working and he looked so so defeated but also trying his best to keep himself up.

“Look,” he finally said, his voice low and gentle. “I don’t know what’s going on but you don’t need to leave. I— shit if it’s rent, I can help you out more. You don’t gotta go. We can work something out y/n”.

For a moment, you almost felt bad— he sounded so sincere like he was genuinely trying to figure out how to fix things. You wanted to laugh at how serious he was because you had never really seen this side of him before but you held back. It was almost too easy.

You let the silence hang in the air before you dropped the bomb. With a smirk, you leaned back and said, “April Fools”.

Toji froze, his eyes blinking rapidly as if trying to process what you just said. Then slowly, his expression shifted. He let out a sharp sigh, clearly annoyed as fuck but mostly relieved. “You’re a pain in the fucking ass, you know that?”

You burst out laughing, clutching your stomach because of how funny it was. “You should’ve seen your face. You totally fell for it!”

“You little brat,” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head with a light chuckle. He took a step closer and before you knew what was happening, he reached down and squeezed your cheek— hard enough to make your face squish between his fingers.

“Next time you pull something like that, I’ll get you back,” he warned, his voice playful but more relaxed. You gasped, flailing a little as you tried to push his bigger hand away. “Oww! Hey! You can’t just—”

Toji laughed, obviously pleased with the reaction. “Don’t fuck with me, kid. You’re lucky I even like you”.

You rubbed your cheek, half amused and half annoyed. “That was mean!” you whined, still trying to fight the grin that was spreading across your face. He gave you a knowing look. “You deserve it, I thought I was losing my mind for a second there”.

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t keep the smile from creeping up on your face. “Just wait until next time. I’ll get you back even more”.

Toji gave you a pointed look, just relieved that you’re even implying there’s gonna be a next time. He walked over to the fridge to grab a beer to calm his nerves. “You’ve got some nerve pulling that on me in the first place, I’ve had a long day, kid”

You grinned, but your heart skipped a little. It was moments like these— his teasing, the soft side of him that made living with Toji so entertaining and easy.

You knew he wasn’t actually mad. In fact, you could tell he was secretly impressed that you even pulled it off.

“Next time I pull a prank, it’s gonna be worse so watch out, old man,” you teased. “Yeah yeah, sure,” he muttered, cracking open the beer. “We’ll see about that”.

[seat-safety-switch]

When we were kids, we didn't have access to cool power tools. Every summer, when the soapbox derby race was coming, we'd break into my neighbour's garage while he was at work. Then, we'd use his drill press, lathe, table saw, all the fun tools. Over the course of a week, a race car was produced, which is more than the workshop ever made during the rest of the year.

Sure, we could have asked him if we could have borrowed his tools, but no doubt he would want to be there to supervise. And then he'd want to help. We'd never get done while we were busy indulging the suburb-tinged fantasies of someone who didn't take wood shop and chose instead to idly worship at the altar of Television Presents: The Fantasy of Bob Vila in adulthood.

One year, Old Man Garrett got a security system. Probably this was because Ted (fucking Ted) didn't clean up the sawdust that one time like we asked him to. The old man must have seen the footprint, and realized that he did not wear size-seven Nikes. Child thieves, casing his precious table saw! Now, our humble breaking-and-entering had become significantly more difficult than "reach a coat hanger under the door and pull the emergency release."

With the help of some of the high-school kids who were taking electronics class, we managed to defeat the security system. We did so using an ancient Japanese technique known as "distract Old Man Garrett while he's setting it, and then cut the wires to the panel." I think it loses something in translation, but you get the gist of it. That year's car was especially sweet.

In adulthood, I got drunk and bragged to some work buddies about our little scam. They responded in abject horror, because I was still occupying the weird hump in the middle of a normal distribution of "acceptable crimes." It was terrifying to them to see one of their own, one of the suburbanites, speak openly about largely-harmless property crimes. What if we had been hurt, they shrieked. Around the water cooler, I would become a pariah, unless I could make amends.

I did hunt down Old Man Garrett after that, still feeling the sting of rejection. He was still on the property, and he still had a beautiful collection of immaculate cabinet-making tools in the garage. I rang his doorbell and, when he answered, I told him the whole story. He laughed.

"I knew it was you dumb shits from the beginning," he bragged. "Fucking Ted -"

"Fucking Ted," I echoed, unconsciously.

"Fucking Ted left his library book on building race cars behind on the workbench that first year. You didn't let him drive, did you?"

I shook my head. "We ran the car into him if the hockey-stick brakes ever failed."

We had a good laugh about the whole thing that evening, and I returned to work with my soul cleansed. It's just a pity Ted didn't know how bad he actually was at crime, before he tried to knock over that liquor store and all.