#hyakunosuke ogata

[znsluc]

https://x.com/ryosuketarou?s=21&t=55HyzerWcN_RxNpgV2Jocw

[whosyourfavevoicedby-polls]

[millionsknives]

golden kamuy bloodsucking eye gore klimt ‘the kiss’ reference (none of those words are in the bible)

[virgil-630]

Tw blood

I'm not looking for a clearer conscience

Peace of mind after what I've been through

And before we talk of any repentance

Try walking in my shoes

My piece's to VASIO zine that I did last September

Tip Commission info

[pcholkachai]

i can fix him but it'll be funnier if i don't

[dollwrites]

hiiiiiii would you be willing to write something with ogata and a shy lover?

— ⟡ dizzy drabbles disclaimer !!

all dizzy drabbles are written when i am extremely high and they don’t contain a trigger warnings list. minors dni, dark themes may be present. these pieces are never proof read so mistakes are probably present. < 3 enjoy your experience

“Don’t give me that look. You’re the one that needed my gloves,” Ogata chided, chastising you for the warm blush and the way that you shy away from his touch. your eyes flicker to the red gloves that are loose around your fingers, and hang further down on your wrists. you’d asked the wildcat sniper, in a timid little voice, if you could wear his gloves after losing yours on the mountainside, but you had no idea that you were meant to be his personal heater when he agreed.

his hands were ice cold— a testament to the brutal snowstorm you found yourself sheltering away from— and they made you let out a soft squeak when they found their way beneath your layers of warm clothes. “You want my hands to freeze?” he challenged, running one palm over your breast, the irreparable pad of his thumb pushing at the hardening bud in an almost teasing manner. the other hand was much more dastardly in its intentions. it curved over the shape of your supple belly, and dipped between your hips, finding that sweet, warm slick with his first two fingers. one eyebrow twitched at your reaction— a sharp inhale and squeak. you couldn’t watch him watch you, it was way too embarrassing. “If my fingers get frostbite, they’ll rot away,” he muttered. his voice, though taking on a macabre topic, was matter-of-fact instead of daunting. “I won’t be able to pull the trigger of my rifle anymore, and we will both starve if I can’t hunt.”

the way he fondled you was more than a little bit demeaning. he pinched and squeezed, rubbed with his fingertips or jabbed with his thumb, as if familiarizing himself with a new firearm, and not a delicate woman’s most intimate areas. you turn your head to the side, and feel the ghost of the snow shifting above the little trench Ogata’d buried the two of you in to keep warm flutter as it flutters against your cheek. the trench was barely big enough for him, and since he’d pinned you below his weight with one knee between your thighs, the other leg pressed close to yours, there was nowhere for you to be able to escape to.

“Sure, b—but… can’t we hold hands instead?” you ask, sheepishly squirming when he uses the tip of his forefinger to lightly scrape at your swelling button. “Or I can—-!”

Ogata is so silent. it unnerves you, how quiet he is sometimes. his eyes are deep and unreadable, abysmal whirlpools, but they’re hyper focused on the way your expression contorts and the sound of your little whimper when he slips his middle finger into you.

“O—Ogata…!” your hands flee towards his arm, grasping his bicep. you can barely feel his body warmth with the several layers between your hand and his arm, but you still cling to it. “Th—that’s—“

“Jesus, you’re warm. Tight…” he mutters, his eyes flitting the length of your body to rest on the movement of his hand beneath your layers. he pushes his finger deep, slowly straightening and then curling his finger. you writhe in response, your inner walls in a frenzy, and hide your face in both hands. Ogata notices your act of shame, and the corners of his mouth twitch, but the specter of a smirk never reaches fruition. “It’s annoying when you do that.” he grunts, his finger pumping in and out of you at a steady pace now. he was intrigued by the way your breath caught in your throat, the way your eyelids fluttered behind your fingers, interested in the way you looked when he played with your pussy, but here you were hiding. “You’re so shy you don’t even wanna look at me?” Ogata muses, giving your breast a hard squeeze. his teeth sank against the inside of his cheek upon the feeling of your flesh against his palm, between his fingers…

you shook your head, babbling behind your makeshift shield of red leather about how embarrassing it was. “Because you’re so wet.” he thought aloud, his brows threatening to furrow as he contemplates, before the hand on your chest escapes from your clothes, and instead pries one of your hands away with a tight grip on your wrist. you whine and squirm, but ultimately feel him anchor the back of your hand to the earth by your head. your free hand still hovers near your face, though it’s drifted moreso to your mouth so you can chew at the tips of your fingers, tasting the leather of Ogata’s glove. you want to close your eyes, but you can feel him pressing his forehead against yours, and when you look up, your eyes are locked in his stormy gaze. “You’re being dramatic. I already knew I made your pussy wet.” you cringed at how blunt he was: Ogata made everything sound ten times worse with that flat, lifeless baritone. sure, you had a crush on him and maybe you weren’t that good at hiding it, but did he have to say it like that?

your back arches when you feel his ring finger join the middle. they were long and thick, calloused and roughened by the elements, cold to the touch, but they felt good plundering you. “I—I’m already full…” you mewl before his forefinger can worm its way inside with the other two. it’s embarrassing to admit, but it leaves your lips, and your voice sounds almost in awe at the sensation. “Can’t take anymore…”

Ogata pauses his ministrations with his fingers still knuckle deep in your core, his breath warm against your cheeks, and he said this just to embarrass you further, “Gotta stretch you out a little bit before you’ll be ready to take a cock.” his mouth never once brushed against your skin, offering not a single ounce of comfort or romance in this moment. instead, he sighs, as if the task at hand was impossible. “We can’t have you screaming like a trapped bunny when I stick you.”

[azzurro-due]

[blondeboyfriend]

Happy Birthday, Worst Boy!

[deddo219]

Seek therapy.

[znsluc]

https://x.com/ryosuketarou?s=21&t=55HyzerWcN_RxNpgV2Jocw

[dreamyren]

up all night

[are-you-unwell-about]

[pandoracallstopolice]

Ogata Hyakunosuke in winter forest

Inspiration:

🤲❤️

[dollwrites]

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!reader, noncon ( it borders on dubcon though ), mention of guns, anonymous sex, all characters featured are aged 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading < 3

𝘄𝗲𝗹𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗯𝗮𝗰𝗸 𝗯𝗹𝘂𝗿𝗯𝘀 ∣ prompt # eighteen // sex in an onsen

you kept your head tilted back against slick stone— gaze fixed on the long barrel of a rifle leaned up against the jagged rock only an arm’s length away. he hadn’t exactly threatened you with it, but the very air around him seemed to be a warning in itself when he’d ordered you out of the water, so you’d obeyed ( albeit cursing him quietly ). you’d been staying at a nearby inn for the last week or so, and you couldn’t say that he looked familiar. he must not have been local, which made you all the more nervous about the fact that he’d managed to catch you alone in the onsen.

he was a man of few words, as soon as you stood up in the water, he had your body arched over it and your legs spread, taking only a moment to drop his garb and spit in his hand, slathering it over a hardening cock before he plunged into you.

the pressure forces a mewl from your lips, and when his thick, calloused hands settled on the flare of your wet hips, he jerks your body forward to meet a greedy pace. at first, your eyes glared up at him as you protested, but when you saw that such a thing wouldn’t work on him ( not even a twitch in his stoic expression ), they had fallen over the body of the stranger fucking you. lean, but deeply chiseled and rugged, with faded battle scars. he was a soldier, at least at one point, made obvious by the blue of his garments discarded, which would explain why he was so heavily armed. looking at his body, watching the muscles in his lower abdomen dance beneath his skin when he thrusts forward was putting you into a trance. your hands wanted to reach out, grab his forearms as he held on to you with an angry grip, and anchor yourself to your assailant. that wasn’t right, and you knew it, but you couldn’t deny it felt good. his pace was not an overly rough one, and even the way your walls fluttered around the girth he provided was not unpleasant—

“Fuck, you’re tight, don’t get fucked much, do ya?” he muttered under his breath and clenched his jaw; you could watch the healed scars on his face shudder. as if spurred to do so, your insides spasm, clamping down on him harder in response. good. you wanted to be so tight that he felt like he was being strangled— your little way of getting him back for the assault.

“Go— to hell—“

you squirm, groan, and try to sit up, but he scoffs, one of his hands planting itself on your naked breast, his fingers splaying out as he pressed his weight on your chest, “be still.” he’d demanded, pinning you tightly with your back against the stone, so you’d eventually dropped your head back, focusing instead of the rifle. your body slid against the rock, leaving your skin raw and feeling irritated, but you reach out with one hand towards the weapon, considering pointing it right in his face and demanding he let you go. the stranger huffed and snorted as he mounted you, fucking you with reckless abandon.

the rifle appeared almost as a witness— the steam curling up around it, enveloping it in a thick blanket. the man notices where you’re reaching, and a rough grunt escapes his lips, “Wanna shoot me, girlie?” his tone was low and taunting, as if he knew that even with the gun within your reach, you wouldn’t be able to.

you still nod, though. if you knew how to use that thing, you’d fill him full of holes.

“Get in line, sweetheart.”

suddenly, the sensation of rough skin— broken and calloused— on your face makes you start. his fingers have traversed up the side of your neck and grasped your chin, forcing your eyes back to him. “Look at me,” he demands. you don’t want to do as he says, and you know the reason why.

you didn’t want to enjoy what was happening to you.

but you, eventually, allow your gaze to lock on with his, and you feel your stomach sink at the lustful, greedy look in deep, abyssal eyes.

for several, agonizing moments, there was nothing but ragged breath and skin slapping as he stared into your eyes. his teeth clenched, snorting through his nose like a wild animal. and you, trying to kill every whimper that threatened to break the barrier of your pursed lips as the thick, throbbing tip of the stranger’s cock battered your sensitive, spongy interior nerves. he could see the struggle in your eyes, the conflict with yourself, your determination to pretend you hated it as much as you should. the spectre of amusement passes across his expression, before he pushes his fingers against your lips, smearing the scent of salt and sweat across them, pushing them open so he can worm his digits inside, making you taste him.

“Cute.”

[muria-art]

2018 VS 2024

[blondeboyfriend]