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#hot game hoodie
sister-lucifer · 1 year
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Hey its me ur mutual lons give me your hottest stankiest take on the creepypasta fandom. In general.
i think people in this fandom hold way too tightly to the versions of the characters created in 2013 and don’t want anyone to try and create a new or different interpretation of them, so much so that they are willing to straight up be racist/ableist/homophobic just to preserve their specific idea of their precious shithead the killer or whatever
it’s 2023 now, it’s been ten years, things change. i know that when you were 10 all the creepypastas were skinny white anime boys, and you’re totally allowed to think of them they way if you want, but not everyone does
people are allowed to make characters who are POC, disabled, gay, trans, etc, because you as a cishet able bodied neurotypical white person do not experience erasure, please stop acting like you’re being victimized
Jane is Black, Toby is autistic, Brian uses mobility aids and EJ is bisexual. piss your pants and cry about it
i don’t give a shit if you hate woke blorbofication or whatever. i’m tired of looking out over a sea of flavorless teenage boys every time i consume creepypasta content.
also stop shitting on people who enjoy the creepypasta x marble hornets crossover and/or creepypasta mansion universes. it doesn’t make you cool or better than them you just look like a dickhole
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dk-ghostmachines · 6 months
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the absolute FITS in that ep huh
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grooviestguru · 1 year
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hc that andrew is definitely the type who wears sweatshirts with the sleeves hacked off 
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ares857 · 1 year
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internet find
If you want this project to continue, you can use the Paypal donation button on the web page of the blog. Any donation is welcome.
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skenpiel · 1 year
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yknow, ever since i came to that epiphany that my fursona is destined to be bland an uninteresting for as long as i want an actually accurate one (something im just gonna have to learn to accept), ive been thinking. maybe its time i gave up trying to be cute with ALL of my sonas. ive had the pink/black color scheme for so long and while the outfits i normally draw myself in ARE outfits i have and wear, theyre pretty rare these days. maybe its time i start being realistic
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cairamelcoffee · 2 years
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🎶✨️ let’s spread some music! put 5 songs you listen to and publish. then, send this ask to 10 of your followers 🎶✨️
HEHEHEHEHEHEHE >:)) thank u for the ask beloved :- )))
sinking man - of monsters and men
2. your eyes tell - bts
3. phony - naked cameo
4. oh devil - electric guest
5. yerbatero - juanes
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angeltism · 11 months
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UGHHHH Y'ALL HAVE NOOOO CLUE HOW CUTE BUT IN A MASC WAY I LOOKED TODAY !!!!!!
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dolibeauti · 2 months
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nsfw mdni
LOSER ! tomura shigaraki hates your guts (or so he says). but you always roll your eyes when he says it because you know he’s lying
you know he’s lying because when he begs you to give him a blowjob under his desk when he plays his silly games, his moans leave behind little ‘fuck, i love you’s which makes you more giddy to suck him dry. and when you try to confront him about it, he scoffs and forces your head to his crotch once more.
LOSER ! tomura shigaraki loves wearing DESPICABLE (me) shirts that make you squeal in embarrassment. like you ever seen someone wearing those gosh awful hentai shirts? i hope you haven’t but he lounges around in them at home and occasionally risks it and wear it under his baggy hoodie in public.
you know what also makes you squeal? when he forces you to cockwarm him when he’s on a call with his friends while playing multiplayer horror games. he isn’t immune to a little scare so he flinches every once in a while that forces you to jerk on his cock. his mic is right beside your head so you have to cover your mouth with a hand to stop from making a noise. don’t worry, though, he always fucks you real good if you stay silent.
LOSER ! tomura shigaraki makes you play the MOST horrifying games he can get his hands on. i’m talking ones that make you let out a blood-curdling scream.
he also asks you to watch porn with him (≧◡≦)! the type of videos he watches aren’t like crazy but they aren’t much tame either. (ex. choking kink, probs bdsm, etc.) AND LIKE I SAIDD he loves hands. especially his so he loves choking you while watching (´▽`). ++++ quirk au… he scares you - in a hot way.
LOSER ! tomura shigaraki honestly does nothing all day. he’s on his ass in baggy clothing watching tv, on his phone, or playing a game!
but he’s lowkey a sex addict so his “most productive” thing he does is | 1. eating your cunt. he eats it like there no tomorrow but he’s lazy and sloppy and he may or may not unintentionally edge you until you’re a mess and your soul is sucked out. | 2. watch tv while you give him a hand job. he loves seeing and feeling your hand squeeze his length, simple as that!
LOSER ! tomura shigaraki hates to admit it but he loves you in so many different ways.
of course, he loves you! but he also loves plunging his fat dick into your cunt until you’re screaming. absolutely drilling it into you with no end. but he also loves using you up to your sexual limits.
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mx-misty-eyed · 1 year
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idk if this is helpful but about hiding scars i found that if you wear a watch and some bracelets even if they don't completely hide the scars people won't notice them usually
.
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I WANT YOU CLOSER, CLOSER EVEN STILL ; SUGURU GETO
synopsis; in the midst of a rainshower, you run into your mysterious classmate.
word count; 6.1k
contents; suguru geto/reader, gn!reader, implied no curses au, fluffy summer vibes, forced proximity (my beloved <3), pining, very shoujo manga coded, vague allusions to sugu having a troubled background, (kind of same w reader), switching povs, gojo slander, stsg implications if you squint (my brand), he’s a sweet sweet boy and i love him :((
a/n; teen sugu reminds me a lot of the kind upperclassman type of otome game li… with secret emotional baggage that makes his route really hard to complete….. anyway i dedicate this fic to hit mobage jujutsu kaisen: phantom parade PLEASE bring sugu home to me please please please ple
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geto looks beautiful in the rain. 
it’s an embarrassing first thought to have, as he rounds the corner and comes into view. a black head of hair, making you stop in your tracks, breathe in a gulp of humid air.
you can’t help it, though.
it’s raining. droplets ricochet against the sidewalk in an endless cadence, the sky above you blanketed by gray clouds; enveloping your city in a summery shadow, the scent of hot concrete and blossoming hydrangeas. everything smells of a blistering summer, youth in a bottle cap. tasty on your tongue.
those very same hydrangeas surround him, on all sides, framing his figure like a painting come to life — splotches of colour, flecks of purple and pink and blue, clashing with the gray sky and the black umbrella in his hand. he looks a little disheveled, hair a little frizzy, bangs sticking to his skin. oddly at peace. when his eyes meet yours, you see a flash of recognition — a tiny spark in the amber hue. 
you take that as your cue to move closer. 
he waits for you, always so patient, smiling as you look both ways before crossing the street — shoes hitting the concrete in a steady thud, thud, thud. a splash from the puddle you step in.
you’re in a good mood. veins flooding with sugar and buzzing with joy, raindrops sticking to your skin and the plastic bag in your hand, absently humming along to a song playing through your headphones. your clothes are soaked, but you’re smiling; swinging the bag of treats as you walk. bags of chips, colourful lollipops, bottles of ramune, clinking together for every step you take. enough to last you a couple weeks. in your good mood, you ended up stocking up on your classmates’ favorites — bouncing on the balls of your feet at the thought of giving them away, seeing their satisfied little expressions.
you even got something for gojo. he’ll have to fight for it, obviously, but you look forward to seeing his face light up when he takes a bite of the soft mochi.
(you like giving them things. it’s fun. it makes you feel like a normal high school kid.)
nothing can dampen your spirits right now. the entire world smells of rain, and hydrangeas, and apple blossoms from the backyards behind you. a scent that creeps into your bloodstream, sneaks into your breath. a smile grows on your lips — blooming even brighter when you step into your classmate’s orbit.
”hey!” you chirp, raising a hand up in greeting.
”hey,” geto echoes, voice honeyed and smooth, bringing a hand up to wipe at his forehead. wet from the humid air. ”out on a walk?”
with a smile, you lift the plastic bag, grabbing his attention. clasping it tightly, with your wet fingers. ”just went to get some snacks. you?”
”i wanted to get some fresh air,” he smiles. eyeing you up and down. ”did you forget your umbrella?” 
silently, he takes in your appearance. your breathing is a tiny bit laboured, and the flimsy, oversized hoodie you’re wearing is sticking to your skin. it’s all that protects you from the steady downpour; no umbrella to be seen. you look small, tilting your head up, meeting his gaze. he feels the beginnings of a smile play at his lips. exasperated. all you do is blink, seemingly unbothered, as if you aren’t straight on the road to catching a cold. you can be a little scatterbrained. 
maybe that’s why he can’t help but dote on you.
(that’s what satoru calls it, at least. suguru thinks it’s just called being nice — not like satoru would know anything about that.)
”oh. no, i didn’t forget.” you scratch at the back of your neck. ”just didn’t know it was going to rain.”
the sudden downpour gave you no time to prepare, heavy and abrupt — clouds obscuring the glowing sun in what felt like no more than a second. like someone high above flicked the light switch of the world. all you could do was pull your hood up, try to walk under whatever apple tree you came across. it didn’t help much, though. 
you shift your weight from one foot to the other, soles weighed down with dew. sort of sheepish.
geto chuckles, raspy and soft. the sound makes your heart skip a beat. ”didn’t you see the weather report?”
”well, it… just slipped my mind, i guess.”
silently, you avert your gaze. now you remember — yaga-sensei did mention that, didn’t he? you heard him say it. but you just forgot.
geto is laughing at you, a little, from within his eyes; at least that’s the impression you get. so you continue, eager to defend your honour. 
”it’s fine, though,” you assure him, smiling brightly. a sunny grin. ”i like the rain!”
geto raises an unimpressed brow, but the expression fades away just as swiftly — giving way to something softer. ”you’re heading back to the dorms, right?” he asks, continuing once you give him a slight nod. ”then we can share.”
you blink. one moment passes, then two. but geto only smiles, shifting his umbrella a little, hoping you’ll get the hint. silently beckoning you over. 
it makes you feel oddly flustered.
in truth, you and him aren’t particularly close. he’s nice to you, sure, but geto is nice to everyone. you’d like to call him a friend, but what do you actually know about him? not much. 
suguru geto is a bit of an enigma. a little mysterious. he’s polite, well-mannered, and he seems like the most normal of your classmates — but the bar is in hell, because you know for a fact geto isn’t normal either. no normal guy deliberately chooses to keep his bangs like that. 
there’s a gap, there. a kind of inconsistency. he’s hard to approach, but he puts you at ease. pulls you in and scares you off. with a soft voice and kind smile, keen eyes and a heavy palm on your head. sometimes he brings you snacks when you study in the library, or helps you with homework. kind of like a dependable senpai. someone to lean on.
… but then there’s that gap. 
the real geto, who you’ve only seen glimpses of, only ever in gojo’s vicinity, is boyish and bright — he laughs and pouts and takes up space. he glows brighter than the sun. but the geto you’re seeing, right now, is more like the moon. wearing a polite, patient smile. standing up straight.
waiting for you to join him under his umbrella.
(he’s kind. but is he doing it because wants to, or because he feels obliged to?)
”… oh.” a pause. ”no, it’s fine!” you take a step back, quick to reassure him. ”i can walk there without it! i’m already soaked, anyway.”
geto observes you. for a moment, something in his expression flickers; a crease between his brows.
then he shakes his head. still wearing a comforting smile, the same one he always slips on when he’s around you. ”still. we don’t want you catching a cold,” he persists, sounding something like a nagging mother. ”you’ll miss the exam next week.”
and with that, your shoulders drop. 
right — the exam. the one you haven’t been studying for in the slightest, completely distracted by the feeling of summer in the air. the one you can’t fail, under any circumstances, because yaga-sensei can and will force you to take summer classes ad compensation. that exam. 
a wistful sigh leaves your lips. ”god, i wish.”
geto chuckles — a little deeper than usual. it makes your heart flutter. then he’s beckoning you over, again, with a slight shake of his head. 
”c’mon. there’s enough room for two.”
he gives you that same familiar smile, and you’re forced to admit that you might be slightly weak to it. something about the way his lips tug upwards, the light crinkle of his eyes. a certain glint in them that tells you he’s not budging on the issue. 
you’re still a little hesitant. but…
(this is a chance, isn’t it? a chance to bridge that gap between you.)
silently, shyly, you join him under his umbrella. shielding you from the still falling rain.
pitter patter, pitter patter. you don’t know where the rain ends and your own heartbeat begins. he’s so close — your shoulders nearly brushing together. it makes your nerves bubble up, in rhythm with the droplets bouncing off the cover up above. you feel stiff. the tiny, miniscule gap between you feels like a sweltering stove, radiating a heat that warns you to stay away. as if his touch could burn you. like this, you can even smell him; fresh laundry, an earthy cologne. the slightest hint of caffeine and tobacco. you blame it on shoko — the whole dormitory smells of cigarettes, thanks to her. 
it’s comforting, though. his scent. blending together with the aroma of rain, wet earth, blooming flowers. with his fragrance smoothing over all your senses, the closeness between you a constant reminder of the situation you’re in, you can’t bring yourself to look at him. 
all you do is murmur out a quick thanks, as you begin to walk, in tandem.
geto can’t help but steal a glance at you, out of the corner of his eye. you look a little meek, a little flustered. he hopes the narrow distance between you isn’t making you feel too uncomfortable. 
just to be sure, he angles his body away from yours. ever so slightly, one subtle step away, to make the gap a little wider. then, as discreetly as he can manage, he tilts the umbrella in your direction — not wanting the never-ending drops of rain to graze your skin. he can feel them, now, soaking through the material of his shirt, hitting his shoulder. but he doesn’t mind. to his relief, you don’t seem to notice. he’s pretty sure you’d protest; and as enjoyable as another friendly squabble would be, he’d prefer to avoid it for now.
you’re nice. accommodating, he thinks, in a subtle kind of way. always showing up with trinkets after your little outings, offering to get everyone a drink on your way to the vending machines. you’re friendly with the other two; always nagging at shoko to stop smoking, even when she just rolls her eyes and calls you a goody two shoes. recently, you’ve even started to be patient with satoru, even when he tries to get a rise out of you. it wasn’t like that at the start of the year. geto wonders what changed. 
he’s a little interested in you. just a little. you’re sweeter than the other two, easier to worry over. he saw you trip over your own shoelaces last week. you’re a little clumsy, a bit of a ditz — airheaded. maybe that’s why he can’t help but feel protective of you. satoru brushes everything off with a cheeky grin, and shoko is self-sustaining, but you’re often in need of a helping hand. the last time he tried that with the other two, they wouldn’t stop calling him mother geto until he smacked them over the head with satoru’s shounen jump issue. 
it makes him feel out of place — when he doesn’t have anything to tend to. itchy, a feeling of dread crawling up his throat. peace and quiet feels suffocating, when he isn’t in total control over it.
so, in his own way, small as it may be, geto enjoys taking care of you. grabbing you a carton of strawberry milk, or warding satoru away when he’s annoying you a little too much. he likes the smile you grace him with when he does. it’s pretty. and it’s all geto really knows about you — that, and that there’s a tenderness to you that’s hard to fake. it’s not much to go on.
so this is the perfect opportunity to learn more. 
(a heartfelt connection. something he’s always, always craved. something that maybe he can finally have, with satoru, and shoko, and you — 
if you’re willing, that is.)
”hey,” he starts, breaking the rainfilled silence. keeping his umbrella steady, leading you both away from a big puddle in the middle of the sidewalk. ”can i ask you something?”
you raise your head to look at him. blinking owlishly, at the sudden question, nerves beginning to rise again. he sounds kind of serious. did you do something? paranoia gnaws anxiously at the ridges of your ribs, but all you can do is swallow empty air and stammer out a meek reply.
”… uh, sure!”
geto glances over at you, his eyes meeting yours. that gaze of his is kind of heavy — the deep colour of his eyes coaxing you closer, luring you in. honey and amber, splotches of cedar and flecks of gold.
they’re pretty.
”this might be kind of a weird question,” he begins, reaching a hand up to adjust his bun, sneaking a finger under the black hair tie. voice light; to put you at ease. ”but i’m just curious.” 
he looks ahead, at the street before you, only meeting your stare once you give him a slight tilt of your head. then he parts his lips.
”why did you come here?”
you blink. 
silently, confusion painting the interior of your iris, you stare at him. waiting for a clarification that doesn’t come, before giving him a hesitant answer. ”… to get snacks?”
geto has the audacity to laugh, after such a vague question. the sound is light and breathy, melting together with the pitter patter of the rain, and for some reason it strikes you as sincere. ”not like that,” he grins. ”i mean, why did you come to the school in the first place?”
ah. 
that’s a different question. harder to answer. he must notice your hesitance, the puzzlement in your features, because he’s quick to elaborate. hiding a smile behind his fist, disguised as a cough.
(you’re sort of cute when you’re confused.)
”i mean — it’s an odd choice, isn’t it? far off the map, barely any students....” you nod along, and he continues. ”i don’t know about your background. but moving away from home must be kind of tough, right?” when he glances in your direction, you notice a sparkle of genuine curiosity in his eyes. ”so i was curious about your reason. if you feel comfortable telling me, i mean.”
a hum. it buzzes in your throat, absentminded, as you stare into space. brows furrowed. 
geto gives you time, as much time as you need, always willing to wait. for a minute or so, the only sounds that fill the space around you are the pitter patter of raindrops hitting the plastic cover of umbrella, and the sound of your shoes meeting puddles on the street. silently, you ponder the question. thinking of your answer.
geto has a point. you’ve been curious, too — about how your classmates ended up in such an eccentric little school, so detached from the rest of the world. a quirky private school in the middle of nowhere. you must all be a little eccentric yourselves. that’s probably why you feel so safe with them — you get the sense that you’re all lacking something. something that would ward normal kids away from such an unorthodox choice.
you could say you were just going with the flow. a relative of yours used to work with yaga-sensei, and heard about his position at a newly reinstated private school — heard that he was looking for students to fill the roster. 
so you accepted.
(if it was really that simple, geto would already have his answer.)
what drew you in, more than anything, was the promise of something new. a strange, small school, far away from home; from the people you know, the town you know, the life that you’ve lived. far away from the person you are, the person you was, the person you’ve always been.
an escape. that’s all it was. 
a way out.
he’s still waiting for your answer, even now, trying to read your thoughts off your face. eyes trailing over every contour. very briefly, you consider dodging the question — but his silent, steady presence squeezes a little honesty out of you. 
you want to give him a genuine answer.
”… i guess,” you begin, weighing the words on your tongue. they feel stale, a little awkward, but not dishonest. ”i wanted to stop being me for a bit.” 
the words are unexpected, surprising even to your own ears — like your mouth and your mind weren’t quite cooperating, one ahead of the other, one not weighing in on the honest choice. they catch geto off guard. 
he looks at you, silently, attempts to dissect your expression; but he doesn’t succeed. 
for a second, something flashes in his eyes. a glimmer that you just barely catch, that you can still sense behind his eyelids when they flutter shut. you’re not sure what to call it. recognition, maybe, or something like empathy. a sense of acknowledgement. it’s gone when he opens his eyes. 
he doesn’t look at you when he answers.
”… i get that.”
there’s a depth to his words that you’re afraid to uncover. you feel their weight, all the same, glancing up at him, studying his expression, the humid drops of dew that stick to his lashes. and you feel a tug. faint, non-existent, the string between your pinkies —
a growing connection. 
(it makes you feel oddly bare.)
all you can give him is a chuckle, a little breathless. ”do you?” you ask, grinning weakly. ”it’s a little melodramatic.”
geto only smiles. silent, comfort personified. there’s no judgement in his eyes, none whatsoever — because he knows exactly what you mean.
fleeing from the past. 
it’s a kind of murder, he thinks. a rebirth.
maybe the two of you are similar. similar in the sense that he recognizes the shadow in your eyes, the one he sometimes sees in mirrors; familiar in the sense that you both suffer from that same sickening awareness. 
(maybe you want the same thing he wants, what he’s always wanted — 
control.)
it’s a realization that creeps up on you, the both of you, slow and steady. a sense of kinship. it envelops you, cradles you close, in the same way molten clouds cover the summer sky.
geto isn’t lying, you can tell. he does get it. you know, just from that tilt of his voice, the way his eyelashes flutter, his absent shifting from one foot to another. and it soothes your worries.
everything is silent, for a bit. you look down at the asphalt, at your own reflection in a puddle, and geto gazes at the bushes of hydrangeas to his right. you feel safe, right next to him, under his umbrella. and he feels content to have you there. your shoulders brush together, for a moment, and it sends a jolt through your heartbeat.
geto inhales a breath.
”by the way —” 
”— have you studied for the exam?”
you both still. blurting out the words at the same time, turning to look at each other; sheepishly blinking in the other’s direction.
then he barks out a laugh.
”sorry,” he hums, a sleek smile on his lips. bright and sheepish. ”what was that? the exam?”
”ah — yeah,” you feel heat settle on the back of your neck, crawling up your ears. ”have you, um, studied for it at all?”
geto moves the umbrella from one arm to the other, smoothly directing you to stand on his right instead of his left. guiding you with his hand on your lower back, ghosting the fabric of your clothing. he stretches his free arm, a little stiff.
”yeah,” he exhales. ”not a lot, though.”
”really?” you blink up at him, trying not to blush at how easily he maneuvered you. stupid, stupid heartbeat. ”you strike me as the honour student type…”
geto scoffs. it leaves his lips before he can tug it back. ”satoru said the same thing.”
a breath spills from your lips, almost a chuckle. you’re not sure how to feel about being compared to gojo, of all people, but you’ll let it slide this once. ”well, you just kinda have that vibe.”
now he’s huffing, tethering on the edge of something childish, and your smile grows. you’re seeing him make a lot of new expressions today. 
”why, though?” comes a sigh. he must be playing it up, a little — you almost get fooled into thinking he’s pouting. ”is it the hair? i don’t even wear glasses anymore...”
”well —” you pause. ”hold on, you used to wear glasses?”
all you get is an absent hum. he doesn’t notice your wide, shellshocked eyes. ”when i was younger. i got rid of them a couple years back.”
“oh…” you try to imagine it, for a second. he’d look frighteningly good in them. just barely, you manage to keep yourself from saying it out loud. ”i think it’s more just your general personality. like, you’re responsible and polite… or something.”
and geto chuckles; the intersection between a teasing smile and a soft grin. it’s just a little bit ethereal, painted over with the humid summer air. he turns towards you.
”and that makes me an honour student?” 
”… okay, maybe not.” you bring a hand up to your hair, fixing it absently. deflating a little. ”you just strike me as intelligent, i guess.”
geto smiles, again, as always. the chuckle that escapes him is faint and fond, and awfully soft, dripping down his lips. ”well, thank you.” 
his eyes are warm, burning into yours. all you can do is glance away. you still don’t really understand this sensation — why he’s suddenly so easy to talk to. why he feels like something other than just a classmate, when he looks at you like that. 
then again, geto has always been a natural at putting people at ease. maybe that’s why you can’t help but warm up to him, compliantly, the way a child dutifully follows the first butterfly they ever see — it’s a little too pretty to resist. 
you want to slip deeper into his world, you realize. you don’t want this moment to end so soon.
”you guys really get along, huh?” you change the subject, speaking slowly, savouring every syllable. there isn’t any rush to get the words out all at once, when you’re with him. 
geto blinks, tilting his head. 
”hm?”
“you and gojo, i mean.”
a glimmer passes through his eyes, as your query sinks in. ”ah. yeah.” his gaze strays upwards, and a contemplative look settles into his face. he knows what you’re after, what you’re really asking; why are the two of you so close? why do you put up with his antics? 
what do you see in him? 
he thinks it’s a fair question. it’s not like he hasn’t asked himself the very same thing, before — satoru can be annoying. ignorant, too, and terribly rude. a little prick. when he stole his curry bun yesterday, geto wanted to kill him. spoiled little brat.
(then again, he’s…)
”he’s… well.” geto exhales, a little breathless. tasting the words on his tongue. ”you know how he is — but he’s not a bad guy.” 
and it’s true. he really isn’t. satoru is a lot of things; rude and spoiled, cocky and bratty, an expert at ticking everyone off. but there’s a kind of charm, there. an innocence that geto admires. 
satoru is childish — because he is a child. a child who knows a lot of things that children shouldn’t know. a child who doesn’t know the most basic of things. satoru doesn’t know how to make friends. he doesn’t know how to ask for help, doesn’t know how to give it. he doesn’t know what cotton candy tastes like, because he’s never tried it before. 
his childhood couldn't have been very warm. it definitely wasn’t normal. 
is that why he puts up with him, then? out of pity? of course not. the bare thought of it leaves a bad taste in his mouth. he’d never look down on satoru, like that — and he knows he’d hate him for it. if anything, geto thinks that maybe the two of them are close because he doesn’t give him any special treatment. even if satoru wasn’t treated with warmth or love, he was certainly coddled. spoiled. it’s evident, in the way that he acts.
but satoru isn’t a god, and he shouldn’t act like one. 
one punch, right across the face; knocking the white-haired boy off his feet. that’s where their friendship began. there were stars in satoru’s eyes, geto thinks, when he looked up at him from the ground. sunglasses fallen off from the impact, blue eyes entirely on display, catching the light of the sun — gleaming with a certain bewilderment. almost amazement. like he didn’t know he could be hit, didn’t know it was possible. the sun shone down on him, illuminating the vague bruising on his cheek, and geto wondered if that was the first punch the boy had ever taken.
it certainly wasn’t a first for him, when satoru lunged at him next —
it was a little juvenile. more than a little deranged. geto isn’t one to throw fists, in the first place — he’s out of practice. the punch he fed satoru might’ve been a little too forceful. he couldn’t help but feel bad, every so slightly, for putting a bruise on that irritatingly pretty face of his. 
but it still ended with satoru’s arm around his shoulder, a buzzing voice by his ear, proclaiming them as friends. cheery and bright.
geto couldn’t help but echo the statement.
(satoru is a lot of things. 
most of all, he’s really hard to hate.)
geto’s answer brings a smile to your face. ”yeah,” you hum, soft voice breaking him out of his reverie. ”he isn’t.”
he looks at you. silently, a question of his own brewing in his irises — and with you so close, close enough to touch, smiling at him like he’s an old friend… geto can’t help but indulge in his own curiosity. 
he tries to appear nonchalant, stealing a glance at you out of the corner of his eye. ”seems like the two of you are getting along better, too.” 
”me and gojo?” you blink, surprised. a little flustered. huffing out an amused breath, trying to brush off the bare thought. ”no way.”
geto laughs — it’s a deep sound, a full one. somehow very earnest. you wonder if that’s how his laugh always sounds, whenever gojo’s involved. ”oh, come on. you don’t hate him that much.” a teasing glint blooms in his eyes, as he scrutinizes you. ”or am i wrong?”
you pause. faltering, a little, gaze falling down to the pavement — then to the sky — then to him. and then back to the pavement. 
”… i mean…” you attempt to squeeze the words out from within your chest, but you can’t help but feel hesitant. as if gojo could jump out of the bushes at any moment, ready to tease you if you say anything that paints him in an even moderately decent light. ”i don’t… hate him. but he’s still annoying.” a pout slips onto your lips. “he has it out for me, you know.”
geto laughs, again. you note that you’re fond of the sound. ”isn’t that because he likes you, though? he just doesn’t know how to show it. it’s like pulling pigtails.”
”don’t even joke about that,” you scoff, shooting him a scowl. “and that wouldn’t make it any better, even if it was true.”
a fond smile. ”yeah, you’re right.” he opts to dial down on the teasing, shifting into a more sincere tone. ”you do seem more friendly now, though. before it felt like you really hated his guts.”
a hum buzzes in your throat. brows furrowing, as you mull on what to answer with. unsure how you really feel. it’s not like you’re suddenly super close, or anything — but you have gotten friendlier. just by a smidge, but still. you’ve gotten better at putting up with him and his antics, at finding comfort in how open he can be.
after a tiny pause, you speak up. 
”… i still don’t really understand him.” you gnaw at the skin of your bottom lip, trapping it between your teeth. “but i think i might be starting to.” 
you’re a little embarrassed over the words that fall from your lips, barely above a whisper. 
”… he’s not the worst.”
geto smiles, but you don’t see it — gaze still lingering on the droplets that bounce off the pavement. ”i’m glad,” he hums, earnest. ”that guy needs more friends.”
something about his tone of voice urges you to look at him. that smile of his is bright, gleaming in the rain, in the midst of the flowers all around you. a little teasing, a little boyish, but somehow very sincere. you didn’t think you’d get to see it up close.
and you can’t help but chuckle. the raven-haired boy glances over at you, confusion in his eyes.
noticing it, you breathe out a quiet chuckle. ”sorry, it’s just —” a teasing grin smooths over your lips. ”you guys bicker a lot, and you act like he annoys you… but you really care for him, don’t you?”
this time, geto almost stops in his tracks. his eyes widen, slightly, and you’re not sure why he seems surprised — when he always sounds so fond saying satoru’s name, talking about him like they understand each other fully. maybe he didn’t notice it until now. 
a moment passes, before he collects himself, clearing his throat and averting his gaze. awfully good at keeping his composure. 
(though he fails to fully conceal the flustered look on his face.)
”i wouldn’t go that far,” he mumbles, but it only makes you chuckle again. his lips curl up slightly, at the sound; despite his embarrassment. ”someone’s gotta look out for that idiot.”
”right. of course.”
geto gives you a displeased little look. you bite back a laugh. feeling at ease, by his side — you get the sense that you can trust him, that you could tell him absolutely anything, and he still wouldn't use it against you. it’s a relief.
standing there, under geto’s umbrella, in the shadow of summer, rain obscuring the world — you reach a definitive conclusion.
you want to get to know him. want to see inside his heart, hear more of his thoughts. if you could only step over that gap between you, wriggle your way into his world — 
you think you’d be happy.
so, as you walk side by side, narrowly avoiding puddles and breathing in the humid summer air, you try to coax them out of him. little thoughts, bits and pieces of the suguru geto you yearn to meet.
(unbeknownst to you, he’s doing the same.)
you continue to talk. about miniscule things, meaningless things, a comfortable sensation of trust simmering in the air between you. and before you know it, you’ve stepped onto the school grounds, stopping right in front of the dormitory.
”here we are,” geto hums, folding the umbrella and tucking it between his arm and torso. you turn to look him in the eye, taking an absent step away.
”thanks, geto,” you can’t help but smile. ”for letting me walk with you.”
”don’t mention it.” he brushes you off with ease, quick to drag the door open; waiting for you to step inside before following suit. always so accommodating. 
for a second, he hesitates. a glimmer of uncertainty, in his eyes, that you miss — stretching out your tired limbs with a shallow groan, enjoying the warm and dry air on your skin. 
finally, geto takes the leap.
when he parts his lips, his voice comes out soothing. natural and breathy, floral patterns blooming on his tongue; as silky as jasmine petals. ”you can call me suguru, you know.” he lets the silence linger, for a moment. ”if you want to.”
you turn to look at him, eyes widening, at the sudden offer, and he can’t get a good read on the emotion reflected in them. you seem caught off guard, but he can’t tell if it’s a good or bad thing.
after a moment or two, you fumble for a response. 
”oh. um — okay? i will, then.” you shake your head, as if brushing off the hesitance you feel, mustering the courage to imitate his offer. ”in that case, you can call me by my first name, too.” 
a brief pause. 
”… if you want to.”
geto smiles. it’s laced with relief, hard to notice, impossible to miss. instead of answering with an affirmation, he takes a more teasing approach — unable to resist the temptation.
so he says your name. your first name, dragging the syllables out on his tongue, as if tasting it. trying to get used to the way the letters bend as they come out of his mouth. despite the teasing lilt it carries, the sound is oddly earnest; he pronounces it clearly, like he’s trying to call you to his side. you almost feel compelled to take a step towards him. 
geto looks you in the eye, as he calls you by your given name, for the very first time — and you can’t help but grow flustered.
”… suguru,” you echo, for whatever reason. you think your brain may be slightly fried. but it feels right, to say it. suguru. 
(what a pretty name.)
suguru smiles at you. you think it’s just a little wider than usual, a little more sincere. almost giddy, if you squint. in the open air, the intimate atmosphere simmers.
finally, you clear your throat, glancing in the direction of your dorm room. a silent que for him to follow.
and he does. leaving the umbrella by the hall, before walking you to your door. his steady, soothing presence sticking to your skin. you’re just about to place your fingers on the doorknob, when a pang of realization hits you — stopping you in your tracks.
”oh — right!”
swiftly, you turn on your heel, facing suguru again. he gazes down at you, bemusement in his eyes. watching as you rummage through the plastic bag hanging off your arm. finally, you find what you were looking for; holding it out towards him. 
”here,” you give him a warm smile. ”as thanks.”
suguru accepts it, compliantly, allowing you to slip a pack of gum into his palm. he recognizes the brand, one he favours over others. it helps him, on days he can’t find his appetite. 
did you see him chewing it at some point, he wonders? when, though? 
maybe you’re always paying attention to the people around you. the way they like their coffee, their favoured flavour of gum. it may be a small kindness, an absentminded one, but suguru thinks that makes it all the more meaningful. a kindness that seeps out of you, that draws him in. 
he wants to know more, about you. he really does.
but for now, this is enough. a walk back to your dorm, your shared home, talking and growing closer than before. 
it’s a small step, but in the right direction. 
the pack of gum stirs a mellow, tender feeling in his chest. all he can do is give you a smile, and a thank you that you’re quick to brush off. then you say your goodbyes, and you close the door behind you — flopping down on your bed with a muffled squeal. a giddy kind of excitement swimming in your veins. because finally, finally, you feel like the gap between you has been dented.
you know what his real laugh sounds like. that the tips of his ears turn pink when he’s embarrassed. you know that he used to wear glasses, that you’re a little more similar than either of you could have assumed.
you know that you’re fond of him. fond of a boy with black hair, who smells of summer and rain and chewing gum. fond of a boy you’ve only scratched the surface of.
on the other side of the door, suguru walks back to his room. with a pep in his step, one that satoru notices — because of course he does — appearing from around the corner with a shit-eating grin.
“oh? what were you doing over there, suguru?”
suguru ignores him. popping a piece of the gum you gave him into his mouth, a flavour of apricot melting on his tongue — he sinks his teeth into it, slowly, feeling his lips curl up into a smile.
it tastes of summer and youth. a memory that both of you will savour, for many years to come.
1K notes · View notes
4unnyr0se · 3 months
Note
Hear me out…asking Kenma and Akaashi to eat it from the back..
❥ eat it from the back | kenma kozume & keiji akaashi
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warnings: timeskip! kenma and akaashi, fem! reader, eating pussy from the back (obvs), kenma is a tease and akaashi is a gentleman, fingering, spanking (kind of), mentions of hickeys, bokuto mentioned
MDNI | 18+ content
word count -> 2.1k
a/n: okay i literally hate this with every fiber of my being but i hope u like it nonnie xx
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Kenma Kozume
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“Hey babe?” you poked your head into your bedroom shared by your boyfriend, the neon red and white lights reflecting off his hazelnut waves. The atmosphere was cozy and quaint, accompanied by the faintest sound of video game characters making attack noises at each other. “I-I have a question if you aren’t busy.” your manicured nails anxiously rubbed against the doorframe, a worrying feeling coursing through your pulsating veins. 
Kenma turned around, placing his cat-ear headphones around his neck. You had gotten them as a joke last Christmas, but he grew attached to them quickly. Your boyfriend was akin to that of a cat, after all. “Yeah, what’s up? Is everything okay?” he asked, his voice laced with a mild concern. You were usually so open with him, never afraid to speak your mind. Why did you seem anxious? Were you hurt?
“O-oh, everything is fine. It’s just…I wanted to try something different, if that’s okay.” you smiled in a feeble attempt to assure him, closing the door behind you. Kenma raised an eyebrow and exited his expensive gaming chair, electing to sit on the king-sized bed on the other side of the room. He patted the blanketed spot next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder once you were snuggled deep into his side. “What did you wanna try, hm? It’s okay, I won’t judge you.”
You blushed and bit down on your lip, not daring to look into Kenma’s gorgeous golden eyes. Since you started dating, your boyfriend has always accommodated your needs, ensuring you feel safe and secure. Surely he would not refuse you now? “Uh, my friend sent me a video on Twitter and…and it was of a girl getting head from behind. I-if you know what I mean.”
A smirk decorated Kenma’s lips as he pulled you impossibly closer to his chest, the thick fabric of his company hoodie softly grazing your blushing cheek. “Oh, was that it? That’s nothing, baby. You know I can’t say no to your pretty face when you ask for something so simple.” he purred, grasping your chin with his hand. He pulled you out of his hoodie to look into his eyes, molten with a newfound desire and longing. The padding of his thumb pulled on your bottom lip, admiring how pretty you looked when you were so desperate for him. “Can you take those pants off and get on all fours for me, pretty girl?”
You nodded quickly, practically ripping off your pants along with your panties, tossing them in some random corner of the room to be forgotten about. You smushed your flushing face against the silky sheets of the massive bed, your back arching so perfectly for him. All on display, all for Kenma. He growled at the sight, kneading the flesh of your ass between his long fingers. “Fucking perfect.” he groaned, playfully cracking his hand against your skin. “Shit, you’re fucking dripping for me. Do you want this that badly, baby?”
“Yes!” you whimpered, your hands finding purchase in the sheets as Kenma bent down, his fingers trailing your dripping folds. “Please, fuck, please just, just do it!” 
“Okay, pretty girl, whatever you want,” he whispered, placing a teasing kiss on your inner thigh before his mouth landed on your soaked core. His hot tongue slid up and down your folds, mewl after pathetic mewl escaping your lips and being drowned out by the sheets. His hands gripped onto your thighs to secure your position, leaving tiny, fingerprint-sized bruises. His tongue drew playful circles around your sopping entrance, pushing the tip of his muscle in occasionally so he could relish in your surprised squeal.
Kenma indulged himself in you, but that was no shock at all. He was a very greedy lover, and you adored that about him. You tasted like the nectar of the gods on his skilled tongue, his name falling from your plump lips in a broken prayer as your stomach sank further into the mattress, slowly coming undone by his expert oral ministrations. “Shit, you’re fucking shaking. You must’ve wanted this, huh, baby?
His lewd words sent vibrations throughout your body, causing your clit to so painfully throb. “P-please,” you begged, reaching behind you to desperately grasp for his hand. “Need you, please.” Your hand found purchase on his wrist, impatiently dragging it to hover above your soaked clit. 
He choked back a moan as his fingers began to swirl around your clit, pinching the sensitive bud just to get a beautiful yelp to fall from your lips. The way it was throbbing, the way you were so beautifully dripping all over his chin and mouth; you were close. He could feel it. Kenma could tell when you were about to reach orgasm by the way your walls squeezed his cock, but this time it was different. Your body was shaking and trembling, so you were in for quite a ride. 
“Gonna fucking cum, baby? That’s okay, cum on my face. You can do it, can’t you? Be a good fucking girl and drown me, don’t make me ask again.” he demanded, rhythmically plunging his tongue in and out of your entrance. His tongue accidentally-on-purpose hit the most sensitive spot inside your core, causing you to topple over the edge and into complete and utter bliss. You release coated half of his lower face, making the mess Kenma never tired of seeing. Fuck, you looked so perfect like this. Bent over and all spent for him, profanities escaping your mouth as you rode your high so gracefully. 
Reluctantly, Kenma pulled himself away from your drenched lower half, wiping your release from his lips. As you turned around to face him, he smacked your ass. “Sorry baby,” he corrected, standing up to slide off his sweatpants and boxers. His cock leaked with precum, prodding at your entrance. “Did you really think we were done? That’s so cute.”
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Keiji Akaashi
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Akaashi has been your most trusted friend ever since high school. You were Fukurodani’s manager and went to the same university as him, often spending time with each other for whatever reason you two wanted, be it studying or simply crying over your shitty boyfriend cheating on you. He was always there for you, and you were always there for him. You knew everything about each other, everything, including your deepest, most dark desires.
It began when you discovered (by pure accident) that you had apartments in the same building, one floor apart. It was a shock at first, albeit a hilarious one. Akaashi joked about how you could never get rid of him, like how you and Bokuto were attached at his hip in high school. Eventually, like in college, you spent every free moment with each other. He could be editing a manga panel on his laptop, and you gingerly made him tea, patting his head. His green eyes would always trail to the hem of your top, the hint of exposed cleavage driving him secretly wild. Or how you would wear your sleep shorts constantly because you worked from home, the sight of your exposed thighs making him instantly hard in his slacks. 
One day, the tension between the two of you snapped. Akaashi had you against the wall, your legs wrapped around his waist and his hands squeezing your waist. His lips molded so perfectly against your own, groaning into your mouth as your teeth teasingly bit onto his bottom lip. That night was filled with passion and longing, a longing that started to brew since the day you decided to become a Fukurodani manager. Since then, your neck has never been free from his hickeys or marks, and Akaashi’s wrists always have one of your bracelets dangling from the bone.
You never kept anything from each other; why would you? You had known each other for so long that you and he were practically in sync—what he did, you did, etc. So when your friend sent you a Twitter link to a video of a girl trembling as she got eaten out from behind, you just had to show him.
“Keiji, look at this.” you tapped him on the shoulder, momentarily distracting him from editing a manga panel. “My friend sent me this. It’s pretty hot, right?” The video was muted, but the woman’s pleasure was so undeniable. Three fingers pumped in and out of her sobbing pussy while her partner secured her position with his large hands, his tongue ravishing her. 
“Yeah, it is really hot,” Akaashi looked at you with a flicker of desire in his eyes, kissing your fingers gently. “Would you like to try that, sweetheart?” He rose from his chair, slightly towering above you. He was so gentle at times you had forgotten that he used to play volleyball. Akaashi was pretty damn tall. You nodded and leaned to kiss him, resting your arms on his broad shoulders. He smiled into the kiss, breaking it for only a moment so he could drag you into the living room. Shrugging off his cardigan and removing his glasses, he gestured to the leather couch. “Can you get into the position like the girl in the video, sweetheart? Face down, ass up, come on.”
You happily obliged, stripping yourself of your shorts and panties instantly. You proudly displayed yourself for him, wiggling your ass playfully with a teasing grin plastered across your beautiful face. “Like this Keiji, yeah? Like when we do doggy style.”
“Exactly like when we do doggystyle, sweetheart.” Akaashi groaned, massaging your ass tenderly. You were already dripping for him, fuck. Were you thinking about this for longer than he thought? “You always look so fucking pretty for me.” his long and calloused fingers prodded at your throbbing entrance, eliciting an impatient moan from your lips. “Don’t tease, baby! Wan’ you so bad, c’mon!”
He pushed his index and middle finger inside your sobbing core, curling them inside instantly. Your walls squeezed about him perfectly, your manicured nails clawing at the pillow supporting your head. “T-tongue! Wan’ your tongue, Keiji! Please…” you whimpered, turning your head to look at him with a flustered and needy expression. 
“I know, pretty girl,” he cooed, quickening his ministrations in your fluttering cunt. “Just doing what the guy in the video did, right? You’ll get my tongue soon enough,” he assured you, squeezing the backs of your thighs lovingly. That put you at ease for a moment until his skilled tongue licked a fat stripe up your glistening folds, earning the most delightful squeal from your throat. 
“Fuck.” Akaashi slowly dragged his tongue up and down your wanton heat, groaning as your slick covered his tongue and mouth. You always tasted divine, like something not of this world. Your thighs already began to shake like the girl in the video, his fingers gently pistoning in and out of you being the perfect finishing touch. “So fucking pretty like this,” he whispered against you, fingers pulling out of your heat to rub against the clit. “I’ve never seen you this needy. Have you always wanted to try this? Hm?” 
You frantically nodded and pressed yourself against his face, wanting more of his wet muscle against your core. “J-just make me cum, dammit! You never tease me like this.”
“Whatever you want, sweetheart,” Akaashi buried himself in your cunt once more, tracing delicate circles on your most sensitive part. At the same time, his index finger rubbed your clit too well, the slick from inside your pussy adding a new kind of lubrication. Akaashi chuckled in satisfaction as he felt your orgasm approach, his tongue prodding at your entrance. He plunged the wet muscle inside, slurping noises filling the room of your otherwise silent living area. The tip expertly dipped in and out, running along each of your folds to avoid neglecting either.  “Want you to cum on my tongue, sweetheart,” he demanded, rubbing on your clit at a sickeningly fast pace. “Can you do that for me now? Wanna cum on my tongue?”
Like you were something he had programmed, you became unraveled all over his tongue, your slick release covering his mouth. “S-shit! Keiji, fuck! Oh my fucking god, don’t stop! Holy shit, fuck, fuck!” 
Akaashi smiled as he pulled away from your heat, giving your inner thighs gentle kisses. “You did so well, sweetheart. I’m so proud of you.” He grabbed your hips and flipped you around, pressing his lips against yours in a tender embrace. His tongue flicked against your lips, spreading some of your release. “You taste amazing, can you see?” 
You nodded and collapsed onto his chest, rubbing your head against the wool fabric of his sweater. “Gonna take a nap on you, is that okay?”
Akaashi chuckled to himself and kissed the top of your sweaty head, rubbing his hands down your back. “Of course, baby, get as much rest as you need. You did so well for me.”
have a request? my asks are open <3
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heich0e · 3 months
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iwaizumi got a lower back tattoo on his 21st birthday.
if you showed one hundred people in the street a photo of 30-year-old hajime, and then surveyed them as to whether or not they think he has a lower back tattoo, it's unlikely more than one of them would say yes—and even the one who did probably just misheard the question. it's as unbelievable a thought as any, and still somehow it's true.
he was 21, legally drunk for the first time in america, and hanamaki and matsukawa had finally come to california to visit him to mark the occasion. it was kind of a stupid trip, they realized afterwards, because issei and hiro were still only 20 and couldn't even go out to the bars near UC irvine that all of iwa's college friends were inviting him out to for the first time.
but he didn't mind.
he bought them beer and sugary canned cocktails from the convenience store near campus using the birthday money his nanay sent him, silently repenting in his mind as the store clerk in the polyester vest rang the expensive purchase through. then they all got drunk in iwa's tiny student apartment while they played video games, called oikawa, and eventually wandered out into the warm california night in search of food.
the details beyond that are fuzzy, but the lines inked into the little space at the bottom of hajime's spine are not—even after nine whole years.
most people have no idea about the tattoo—and hajime has gone to great lengths to keep it that way. he wears a compression t-shirt at the gym so there's no risk of it riding up and accidentally revealing it. he orders patches to conceal it on the rare occasion he goes to onsens. he never showers with the athletes at work, always either opting to shower at home, shower after the team, or use the staff facilities when available.
but in spite of all of that, he's not embarrassed of it.
he doesn't even really regret it.
it's just not anybody else's business.
the ink on his skin is a secret kept between him, matsukawa, hanamaki, the guy who tattooed him, and oikawa who was screaming on facetime in the background while it happened.
and now you, too.
your hand snakes up the back of hajime's sweatshirt as he stands at the stove preparing breakfast, cool fingertips tracing the curls of ink even without seeing them—having long mapped them to memory. hajime suppresses a shiver, not expecting the contact, as you crowd yourself closer to his back and lean your weight against him.
"i was trying not to wake you," he says quietly, the hand not holding the chopsticks he's flipping his omelette with reaching behind him in search of you.
"you didn't," you murmur into his back, catching his seeking hand in yours and twining your fingers together. "smelled food."
hajime laughs to himself, his eyes crinkling. he squeezes your fingers tightly as his heart thuds in his chest.
underneath his sweatshirt, your nails rake lightly against his skin.
"shouldn't i be making your breakfast?"
hajime transfers his omelette to the plate waiting beside the stove, flicking off the burner and then turning to face you. he wraps his arms around you and holds you properly now, your face burrowing into the collar of his hoodie the way you always do, his nose brushing your temple.
"wanted to let you sleep a bit longer," hajime grunts out, his cheeks burning a bit hot—still shy, sometimes, even after so much time has passed. "thought you might be tired after..."
you snort, your head popping up to look at him. "after you fucked me within an inch of my life into the wee hours of the morning?"
the fire burning under hajime's skin grows even hotter. he splutters a little, and struggles to meet your gaze.
"i'm not tired," you whisper, a mischievous smile tugging at your lips. the incorrigible one he fell in love with. "we were celebrating, after all."
hajime's eyes are burning a little bit, to complement the stinging in his cheeks. you lift your hand up to his face so you can feel the heat of his skin, and he rests his own hand—larger, more calloused than your own—to rest overtop of it. he looks at you, and sees happiness reflected back at him in your gaze. so fathomless he thinks he could drown in it.
hajime turns his face into your touch, and his eyes flutter closed as he noses against your palm.
he presses a kiss there. soft. adoring.
then another, just slightly higher, to the ring he put on your finger the night before.
he peeks at you again, that same heat in his cheeks, though not nearly as unbearable.
he's got another secret he doesn't regret now, one just as permanent as the ink in his skin, but this one won't stay hidden long. eventually he'll call his parents, and his nanay will probably get teary. then he'll tell his friends, who will put his mother's tears to shame. he'll leave the tattoo artist out of it this time, though—wherever that guy is now.
"happy birthday, hajime," you whisper to him with a smile he can't help but return.
he might keep this secret between the two of you today, though. just for a little while longer.
it'll be his gift to himself.
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san8ny · 5 months
Text
CamGirl! Ellie
“How...” You trail off as you view the poll in disbelief, setting the brightness of your monitor up in an effort to re-read the winners of your next collaboration,
Ellie Williams had won by a landslide over Abby Anderson.
How was that even fuckin’ possible, i mean, it was practically unheard of in the field of camming; a rookie like Williams beating a veteran like Anderson out.
You prop a fuzzy sock-clad foot on your desk as you lean back in your streaming chair, the viewers going absolutely insane at the chance of a collab with Ellie Williams now becoming a reality. You simply couldn’t help the amusement that began to simmer in your manner.
“Well..I did promise you all, didn’t I?” You flash a pearly smile, looking back at your camera as the thousands of comments roll in,
@Ilovesluts1: LETS GOOOOO!
@Abbys3xual: made like a bajillion accounts to vote for abby smh :/
@EWismyreligion: bro sm1 tag me when its starts next week
@AbbyAnderson: aw, dont seem so down, ill get em next time
@FuckSuckGo: ░PUSSY░IN░BIO░
Skimming through them, you slightly tilt your head at the viewer count, “Mm, we’re past our usual viewership number, are you all that excited to see me get fucked?” Your laugh coming out a bit airy as you slowly begin to unzip the large hoodie you had on, top set of teeth brushing against your bottom lip, “Now that you’ve got something fun to look forward to, let’s get back on our usual schedule.”
Meanwhile, Ellie was laying in bed, laptop propped up on her thighs as she watches your stream in antcipation on her alt. Poor girl had practically chewed her nailbeds down to nothing as she hears you talk about her for the first time in that sultry voice you had; Ellie practically worshipped the ground you walked on- hell, you were the one to even get into her camming.
She first came across your sfw gaming account, thinking you were a fresh breath of air. You had good humor, seemed down to earth and you were beautiful as hell.
Couple of weeks later, you mention in a ‘StarDew Valley’ stream how your other account got flagged for the influx of subscribers you were obtaining, the streaming platform mistaking them for bots. You were just that good, and Ellie didn’t need any further convincing before finding the paywalled account and sprinting to her coat, fishing out the credit card.
Safe to say she quickly became one of your top donators in just a couple of days, the comments talking amongst themselves of just who ‘User1009’ could be, and the hefty amount of money being sent in a single sitting; you didn’t really bat an eye all that much as you were pretty use to it, but upon reading the comments, you smiled; “Guess i’m well liked?”
shortly after, the system text-to-speech alert sounds:
@User1009 has sent a donation of 3000USD with a note attached:- More than you know :)
Ellie was ensnared in your trap. She worked a regular 9-5, she wasn’t under a hot-shot label like you when she cammed in the little to no free time she had, instead, opting to freelance with little 5 minute amateur videos.
Though, it’s her toned body and music-like moans that gets her quickly climbing in the ranks, the platform practically becoming infatuated with the quick strokes of Ellie’s wrist when she’s pumping a sleek toy inside of her, or the risk of her being caught in the very public areas she performes said acts in. She was a thrill, and had everyone tuned in.
Even you, as you probe your mouse around her offical account in your dim-lit room, trying to see just who would be bending you over.
“She’s cute..” You mutter as you click on one of the more clearer videos, heat quickly consuming you as her slicked pussy comes into camera-view, long slender olive-toned fingers pistoning in and out of her swollen cunt aggressively as she chases an orgasm, before slowly removing them and demonstrating how her cum webs inbetween digits, some cascading down her wrist before the video cuts.
And for the first time in some weeks, you catch yourself actually feeling excited as you rub your thighs together.
Not just for the clicks and money either..but for some girl on the internet.
Hey, i dont rlly know if you’d be okay with this but..r u down for a vid tgtr? my fans rlly like u but ik u dont do collabs lol (sent at 11:36pm)
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ares857 · 2 years
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internet find
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headcanon that the smaller batkids steal the bigger ones' hoodies and jackets. and by "bigger ones" I mean literally anyone bigger than them.
jason gets the short end of the stick because dick and all his little siblings take his. tim's the only one bold enough to go for the leather jackets (well, and cass, but they're way too wide in the shoulders for her) but it's not uncommon to find dick or stephanie in a dark red or gray hoodie that smells of motor oil and gunpowder.
damian usually takes dick's hoodies, but they're very oversized on him. on the bright side, there are thumbholes in the sleeves of all dick's hoodies, so he can still use his hands. the thumbholes make them a hot commodity in the winter.
there is a tim-steph-cass jacket pipeline. steph steals tim's hoodies and cass takes them from steph. hence tim stealing jason's leather jackets -- steph won't take them, so he gets to hold on to them until jason realizes and takes them back. sometimes cass will also steal duke's hoodies, but she always returns them clean and neatly folded (unlike how it goes with the rest of the family, in which they are returned only under threat of blackmail or with long rounds of negotiation).
this is an extremely long-standing ring of jacket theft. you cannot leave a hoodie unattended in wayne manor. damian doesn't actually own any hoodies, and cass only owns one, because there's so many other people in the house to "borrow" one from. nowhere is safe. steph once broke into dick's apartment to steal his warm hoodie, the one with the fuzz on the inside.
but it goes the other way sometimes. jason leaves things in the pockets of his leather jackets for tim -- film for his camera, hand sanitizer, half-filled punch cards for local coffee shops with "drink water too, fucker" written on the back. cass will tuck little slips of paper in the cuffed sleeves when she leaves hoodies out. the notes don't say anything, but they have little smiley faces and hearts on them, and steph has taken to doing something similar with corny jokes. dick just straight-up leaves candy in the hoods of his jackets.
it's a game, it's a love language. it's simultaneously annoyance and affection. there's nothing like wearing a hoodie that's too big for you, that smells like your family, to make you feel safe.
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goldenhypen · 1 year
Text
✴︎ ⎯ interrupting them with a kiss
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pairing | enhypen x reader
genre | fluff
wc | 1.2k
warnings | kissing lol + some playful teasing/bickering,, lmk if there’s anything else!
a/n | first work since the hiatus omg hope y’all enjoy i haven’t done one of these in a whileee
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HEESEUNG ♡
this boy is literally in the middle of answering a question YOU just asked but you can’t help but notice how ADORABLE he looks right now
wearing his oversized hoodie that engulfs his entire tall form somehow manages to make him look so tiny before you
and so you can’t just sit there and act like you’re okay
you can’t hold it in you anymore
so you kiss him
“oh…” he says, blinking at you, pleasantly surprised as you pull away. “do that again, please,” he smirks with more of a demanding voice this time
LEE HEESEUNG????
you’re left there at a loss for words at this reaction you didn’t expect to elicit from him
and so noticing you’re not doing anything, he decides to take things into his own hands
literally thanos’ “fine. i’ll do it myself” but make it intimate, sexy and lee heeseung
and you catch yourself melting under the hot touch of your boyfriend as his lips immediately find yours
JAY ♡
after kissing him all of a sudden, he lowk flinches and looks at you wide-eyed before acting like you didn’t just make his heart suddenly rush at 150 miles per hour whilst simultaneously doing hundreds of flips in his chest
he looks at you with a questioning type of look before laughing, attempting to mask his now flustered state before letting out a confused, “what the…”
“sorry, you were talking, then i realized how pretty your lips were looking as you were talking, and then you talked some more, and i—couldn’t hold back :)”
he scoffs playfully while letting his eyes shut half closed, still looking at you with an unamused (actually, very amused) stare, “so are you gonna let me finish what i was saying—”
“or should we make out for a few minutes? :D”
“y/n!”
no but after exposing him to the idea, soon the only thing leaving his lips were yours every time you had to catch your breath— (oop)
JAKE ♡
honestly,,, he’s barely taken aback??? 😭😭
like jake srsly? 😭 way to ruin the fun 🙄
nO BUT YK WHAT HAPPENS NEXT THO???
okay so you were the one messing with him, right? buT SOMEHOW BEFORE YOU KNOW IT HE’S THE ONE HAVING FUN MAKING YOU FLUSTERED DJDNDJDJ
literally turning this entire thing around like it’s some game
and so now he’s the one having you forming into a useless ball of mush as he suddenly takes hold of your face, kissing you back passionately like he thinks you can handle it or something 😭
lucky for you he’s holding you so even if every muscle in your body shuts down, having you weak under his touch, LIKE IT DOESNT FEEL LIKE IT BUT you are safe and secure with him <3
moral of the story: almost always whenever your lips meet his and you pull away, his brain just automatically takes it that he needs your lips back on his again asap and he’ll do whatever it takes to get what he wants
this boy puts a whole lot of value on the kisses he gets to share with you. sorry i don’t make the rules 🤷🏻‍♀️
SUNGHOON ♡
sunghoon is just smiling as he reminisces out loud some memories you two shared from a while back
and if you’re being honest, the moments he brought back to life through his words started to make you fall in love with him all over again
you smile ear to ear just as he is and suddenly you catch yourself staring at his lips,, maybe it was the pretty smile you were just always so attracted to…
*peck*
“hey! what was that for?!” your boyfriend exclaims, very obviously flustered by your sudden move on his lips and djdjsjsj you catch a glimpse of his cheeks growing red before he turns away to hide his cute face with his hands
is that not just the most adorablejejsjdjd
he takes a few deep breaths in to compose himself before turning back around, ready to scold you (ZJDJDJ yes hoon you go !! dhdjdj)
“y/n, you can’t just do that!”—yup, great one, hoon, keep going—“i—was talking! and that was rude to interrupt me while i was talking…yeah! and actually, i should be the one making you flustered! not the other way around!”
smoothhh
“oh, so i made you flustered then?”
“hey!—you—no! i’m just saying…”
you let out a small chuckle, “cute.”
“what did you just say?”
“i said you’re cu—“ *peck*
“park sunghoon!” you laugh, in shock
“now look who’s getting shy.”
I— ???
SUNOO ♡
when you suddenly kiss him in the middle of his long run down of the latest gossip between his peers, a gasp leaves his lips as a smile automatically graces his face
“hey!” he hides his face in his hands and chuckles unbelievably, whining playfully, “don’t do that!”
“what? you don’t like it?” you tease
“if you do that again, i’m gonna refuse to even bother talking to you. you hear me? got it?”
oh the sassy little sunoo threats
“mhm, it’s just ‘cause you wanna kiss me so bad too, huh?”
“oh my, y/n,” the boy literally face palms, sighing, “yeah, let’s continue this conversation another time.”
he’s so done (nah he actually loves playfully bickering with you) he literally begins walking off, so you shout, “so is that a yes to more kisses, or???”
“no!!!”
“are you sure??”
“ugh, fine!”
he loves you 🙄😔
JUNGWON ♡
HED GIVE YOU THE BIGGEST CUTEST PUPPY KITTY(??) EYES
like full on adoration
he doesn’t care that you just stopped and interrupted everything he was saying
he thinks it was just so cute that you kissed him like that
a smile grows on his face as he asks what that was for
and you tell him how he just looked cute and you apologize you couldn’t help yourself
and that was when he had it
and he immediately leaned in and kissed you right back
YANG JUNGWON CALM DOWN A BIT PLS ITS TOO MUCH FOR OUR WEAK YN HEARTS-
NI-KI ♡
GETS SO FLUSTERED RIGHT ON THE SPOT
right as you pull back and watch for his reaction he’s letting out a chuckle and pressing his lips together, turning his entire body to face away from your view
he’s in his own world for a moment, processing what just happened before getting flustered again and trying to calm down and compose himself
and so you try to get his attention again. you poke him a few times, “riki? riki? riki?!”
he turns around, TRYING TO ACT ALL COOL AS THOUGH HE WASNT JUST STRUCK WITH THE BIGGEST SWARM OF BUTTERFLIES IN HIS STOMACH
like riki your face is all red, you can’t hide nothin 🙄
“hm?” he asks in the most composed voice and with the calmest face he could pull off (p.s. he was not very good at acting “calm” at all whatsoever and you just couldn’t let this boy have his moment)
“you’re so red right now,” you point out and cackle
“do you wanna kiss again?”
SJSNDJ I— ???? NISHIMURA RIKI!?&@:’!
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a/n | lol don’t mind if the tenses were all over the place in this one T-T i tried writing in present tense for once,, let’s hope it stayed that way throughout the whole thing djdjd ,, i hope you liked reading this one! first goldenhypen work in how many months?? hope you lovelies enjoyed !! likes and reblogs are very appreciated mwah <3
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