#inflate pants

[bxnnie-bxwl]

out of context drawing from the bowling alley server KJSDHGSD

[suckmydictionary5]

[darewolfcreates]

-click image for transparency effect-

Goodnight Splatoon 1's server's and thank you for everything.

I remember seeing the first trailer for Splatoon. At first I wasn't interested at all... a shooter game? Not my style of game play... But then I kept watching and wow... I just got so captivated by what I saw that it was the first game I had ever pre-ordered that wasn't a Pokemon game. I used to do something called the "24 hour challenge" something that no one else but me did because I made it up. I would stay up the full 24 hours for Splatfest for the first handful of Splatfests and play the wholeeeee time. Or at least until my brother wanted to play and I'd take a nap, haha. That stopped once school started up again but those memories of my 24 hour challenges are still ones that I hold close to my heart. My first real Splatoon friend was Nick! We would play the new stages together in recon as soon as they would come out and we were both online. We still talk and I'd still consider him one of my closest friends. Thanks for sticking with me all these years Nick, I appreciate you more than words could ever express. I've made more Splatoon friends over the years and I'm happy to have every single one of you. Here's to the future!

[auntiejohn]

if I was prime minister I would make last laugh by ceechynaa the national anthem and then I would make fredos 10p

[givehimthemedicine]

that massacre blood won't let me rest

(bloodstain pattern analysis)

warning, this will contain some graphic explanations of how blood stains get made and a couple pictures of real blood (no people) as I attempt to apply my modicum of education on this subject to the HNL massacre

I'm mostly focusing on that main blood stain that goes across One's chest, but toward the end I'll touch on other stains in the RR.

tldr: I think that chest stain leaves plenty of room for doubt about whether One was the attacker.

so. bloodstain analysis crash course.

your main types of blood stains:

active - blood flying and landing on a surface as a result of force/motion. this includes spatters, splashes, arterial sprays.

passive - blood falling from plain old gravity. stains like drops and pools.

transfer - a surface coming into contact with another surface with blood on it. smears, maybe a hand or shoe print.

two lovely volunteers to demonstrate:

One's neck bleeding on his collar is an example of a passive blood stain. if any of those larger vertical blood drops on his shirt are supposed to be nose blood, (his nose barely bled but his shirt looks like it dripped) that's also passive. victims' eye blood is passive.

One mopping the floor with El leaving her with blood smeared on her gown is transfer.

that main pattern of blood droplets across One's chest is an active type stain. all the blood on him, apart from his own, appears to have flown through the air and landed on him.

the costume dept clearly put effort into depicting those types differently, going as far as to actually drag someone around the floor to find out what El's gown blood should look like as a result of the actions that put it there. I think it's fair to expect a similar level of research went into designing One's stains.

but discussing those methods in the interview might have revealed too much.

some types of active blood stains

arterial spray is when a vein or artery is cut and blood squirts out, flies through the air and lands on nearby surfaces. it's not usually just a little blood. here are two real examples of arterial spray:

to me, it seems like a severed artery would produce a more blood than is on One.

impact spatter is created when an object forcefully hits exposed blood and little droplets fly. forward spatter is made in the direction of the force, backward spatter is thrown back toward the direction the force came from.

in many cases forward and back spatter look much the same, so the main distinguishing clue is location.

back spatter is, without us even thinking about it, the type of stain we assume is on One's chest, because we also assume that he is the attacker. that he did something violent to someone and their blood splashed back on him. that is one valid explanation, but not the only.

see, spatter flies in all directions from an impact, 360. it looks like this (simulation). not all spatter is automatically back spatter. if it's forward spatter, it suggests One was facing the impact from opposite where the force came from. it's hard to imagine a scenario where the attacker gets forward spatter on himself.

castoff is another type of spatter typical of repetitious stabbing or beating where a weapon that's covered in blood, when swung back for another blow, flings off an arc of small blood droplets.

examples:

the attacker virtually never gets castoff on themselves. rather they fling it on the walls/ceiling around them, depending on the arc of their swings.

telekinetic blows cannot possibly create castoff because there would be nothing for the blood to stick to.

so if the stains on One are castoff, A) there was a bloody physical weapon/object involved and B) he seems very unlikely the attacker.

to me, the main stain on One looks consistent with either impact or castoff spatter. let's consider some more characteristics:

blood velocity

droplet size can also tell the speed at which the blood was moving, which helps reconstruct what amount of force and therefore type of injury it came from. generally, the smaller the droplets the higher the velocity.

One's chest spatter looks medium velocity. no surprises here.

blood directionality

the shape of droplets helps determine the direction the blood came from.

a drop onto a 90 degree angle, like if you're just standing there and your blood drips on the ground, leaves a circular droplet. an elongated blood droplet shows that the blood was flying through the air at an angle.

blood tails are what you call the pointy end of an elongated blood drop, which points in the direction of the motion. the bottoms of these more acute examples are the tails, indicating the blood was moving toward the bottoms.

now look at One. he definitely has multiple spatters on him, but I'm focusing on the main spatter that goes diagonally across his chest.

note how blood tails go in a consistent direction (bottom screen left moving towards upper screen right). this creates a strong idea of the spatter having originated low around One's right hip and flown upwards across his body.

of course we can't get too into analyzing this as legit forensic evidence, because it isn't. but the fact that they kept consistent with the direction of the blood tails when recreating these stains by hand multiple times seems like that detail mattered to them.

(I don't wanna shoplift directly from em's jumpsuit blood post but that has the best collection of pics and you can see that all iterations are in agreement with the direction of motion suggested).

here's a quick video showing a guy creating a bloodstain that illustrates both castoff and blood tails:

how'd homeboy get blood on his back?

I wish I could get a clearer look, but those are absolutely active spatters and not transfer. do you wanna tell me how, if you are the attacker, you'd manage to get your victim's blood to spatter onto your own back? like, even if he can Vecna someone behind his back, why? was he showboating like shredding guitar behind his head?? was it like the champagne in that one kim kardashian photo??

whose blood is on him?

neither castoff nor impact spatter makes sense for the bodies we see.

as I've discussed in other posts, none of the ways we saw anyone get killed in the massacre, nor any of the dead bodies in the RR, should produce blood stains like the ones on One.

the only external bleeding that getting Vecna'd™ produces is passive drips from the eyes. nobody got stabbed or struck repeatedly. even the eyes getting sucked out (or whatever?) doesn't result in any spatter. you can watch One kill Two, and there's no new blood on his face or on the floor between them. you can watch him throw guards into walls without a speck of blood on the walls or on himself.

for the amount of blood around the scene, there should be at least one much, much bloodier wounded person around here somewhere.

what is telekinetic force shaped like?

I'm unclear on what kind of spatter to expect when the weapon is telekinesis because I have so many unknowns about the nature of the impact. it really seems up to the person what shape and force of power they want to use in each instance (think the brute force of flipping a van vs the fine motor skills of turning a tv knob).

what I want is to picture the telekinesis used in the massacre as an invisible physical object so I can draw conclusions about the impact spatter it might create, but I can't.

ST has given us a couple great visuals of what impression telekinetic force actually creates when impacting various substances, revealing its "shape," and it varies a lot. my ruling is that telekinetic force has no default shape, so this is kind of a dead end.

but regardless, here's the curious thing about spatter:

(and that IS spatter on One, whether it's impact or castoff): spatter is the result of force upon exposed blood.

and a bunch of blood is not exposed yet until after a victim has been struck/stabbed/whatever at least once. meaning the victim that One's bloodstain belongs to was likely struck in the same spot repeatedly. twice minimum.

"well, blood is already exposed from the eye thing, couldn't it just be that?" yes, but striking victims after the eye thing isn't the MO. watch Virginia, Two, Chrissy, Fred, and Patrick die - after the eyes, they simply drop in place. he doesn't throw or hit them in any way.

if that is castoff, what was the blood cast off OF?

if there was a physical weapon, it's either missing from the scene or not shown.

I'd love to finish this section by suggesting an object in the lab that would make a thematically fitting murder weapon, but nothing jumps out at me.

it would be unlike them not to have brought our attention to the murder weapon before it's revealed as such. like, we need to be able to go "ohhh, they killed everybody with the 8 ball!" or whatever later or else it's not as fun.

the blood being castoff from a weapon would tend to suggest that the attacker wasn't telekinetic (or wasn't currently able to use their telekinesis). I mean, would you bother doing the manual labor if you didn't have to?

I don't see any very bloody objects lying around the RR, but I do see extremely clear evidence that there were very bloody hands.

hands are absolutely a thing that can cast off blood.

and there's only one person I know of who was ever shown with bloody hands in conjunction with the massacre.

let's talk about hands, then

we've got a diagonal thing going on here:

this bottom-left-upper-right orientation that would tend to result from a right-handed person casting off blood from an upward swing of either a weapon or their bloody hand. a lefty's swing would most likely create a bottom right-upper left diagonal castoff.

so which lab folk are what-handed?

lefties:

righties:

(I found only 2 lefts from El: manipulating the helicopter and stopping Vecna from killing Max. I could do a whole post on that. stop me)

ok, but what if that's backsplash, not castoff? same logic.

One is left handed, and when he throws someone with telekinesis, say like if he slams them downward, he uses his left hand. the way the arm swings naturally seems more likely to create an impact on that same side of the body. but the spatter originates from his right hip.

(NOT saying otherwise is impossible, it's totally possible, just seems less likely. go ahead and pretend you have telekinesis for a sec and see what direction of arm sweeps feel most natural.)

this is why when I look at the stain on One, I'm not totally convinced it's back spatter.

so what are some possible scenarios that might be consistent with blood like that?

where One is the attacker:

One strikes Victim with either a physical weapon or telekinesis. either from the strike or from falling and hitting some surface, their blood back spatters onto his shirt.

where One is not the attacker:

Attacker is striking Victim with a physical object or telekinesis. One stands opposite Attacker. forward or sideways impact spatter flies onto One's shirt.

Attacker is beating Victim with a physical object. One stands opposite Attacker. blood is cast up onto his shirt on one of Attacker's upswings.

One stands near Attacker or Victim who swings a bloody hand upward and casts blood across his shirt. (I'm liking this best)

now that I've been serious for a whole post, let me go insane about the scene overall (I'M JUST BRAINSTORMING DON'T SNIPE ME):

what if, by timeline shenanigans or I don't know what, some versions of Henry, Edward, and El are all present in the RR during the massacre.

Edward is doing some or all of the killing in such a way that impact spatters are being sent onto Henry. the bloody face of one of Edward's victims hits the floor while Henry's back is turned, causing that small spatter on the back of his pant leg.

El's hands are covered with blood. she makes a sweeping motion like this, up and to her right, to throw Edward, and blood casts off her hand onto Henry's shirt.

if an action like the above gif happened, we'd expect to see damage and/or blood on the walls or ceiling of the RR. there are multiple drippy blood impacts on the RR walls. we assume them to have come from the kids (even though this is not consistent with their injuries). what if some or all of that is Edward's blood?

whoever hit the walls would have needed to already be bloody when they hit the wall. (we know from the hallway guards and Two that neither getting thrown against a wall nor Vecna'd up against a wall leaves blood.)

another explanation for already-bloody-Ed and Henry shirt castoff/forward spatter from a physical weapon is if Brenner comes in and tries to stop Edward by beating him with [?object]. but I feel like Ed would overpower Brenner too quickly to get very bloody. this isn't a strong one, I feel better about the bloody hands idea

re: the blood pools on the floor all being smeared even before El gets dragged... you know how El has some way-too-different-to-be-accidental variations in the blood transfer patterns on her gown? could we have multiple Els in play? like, by the time we see our El arrive in the RR, other-bloody-handed-El has already been mucking around the scene?

varying El blood and multiple El concept plays well with the way there are also at least two different crime scenes.

"Nat you idiot, that shot is filmed in the mirror, you're just confusing two different sides of the room. why are your green and purple circles on the same bookcase when they're clearly on two different bookcases on opposite sides of the room?":

YEAH I SURE AM CONFUSED! BC WHY WERE THOSE TWO BOOKCASE STAINS BOTH SHOWN ON THE RED-TOP-RAINBOW-BEND-ON-THE-WALL SIDE OF THE ROOM? the side with that pyramid thing and the plinko board has a red-top rainbow bend. the opposite side, with the benches and the drawing tables, has a purple-top rainbow bend (see below). like, whatever mirror tricks you wanna pull, shouldn't the side of the room with the bookcase corner stain be purple-top-bend? seriously, am I picturing this wrong??

anyway, many of those RR bloodstains could be explained by at least one unaccounted for person being thrown repeatedly around the room. telekinetic people really seem to like doing this to each other.

say El makes that hand motion, which makes One's shirt castoff and throws Edward. Ed hits that bookcase hard enough to get bloodied. Edward gets thrown around some more, leaving various stains around the walls and floors. El or Ed stomps in the blood puddle by the bookcase, resulting in the purple-circled splatter and the spatter on Henry's pant leg.

but if we're allowed to have multiple Els maybe some of the blood is other-El's too. or One's. or Brenner's

I DON'T KNOW. I'M DONE. END MY SUFFERING

[shocktreatment]

thrift store today

and i shirt i was so excited about until i noticed it was The Office© merch instead of just a shirt covered in guys

[weirdstuffontemu]

This thing.

[spacevixenmusic]

Source: Josie & The Pussycats [1970]

[pollencoveredwoman]

Y’all S16 is so elite idk what to do with all this serotonin.

[serenxtyinsxlence]

【I wasn't going to post this originally, but I keep giggling at it so see if it can bring anyone else a smile for the day! A funny moment memory from the weekend with @erxsxre LOL】

[todayisafridaynight]

NO WAY YOU'RE A GAIA USER TOO I was so obsessed 😭😭😭

HELP NO YEAH I AM LERKJGA it keeps calling me back....... i think im over it but still.....

[queasybellyprincess00]

soda bloat

You’re trying to train your stomach to hold more so you decide to do a soda bloat.

Unfortunately for you your stomach is a lot larger than your bladder, and you go from “ mild urge”

to “ I am going to explode” before you can comprehend what’s happening, and your pants are damp before you can react.

do you attempt to move your very liquidy sloshy belly to attempt to get some urine in the toilet, or do you accept that you’re already wet and pop?

[moechies]

grimy gojo who films his first time with you :( cw non-consent recording on both parties

his phone propped up somewhere completely oblivious, either behind a prop pile of clothes or behind a picture frame on the tall shelf against his wall.

he lays you down on his mattress so gently, lips locking with yours as he sneaks a glance at the camera filming every movement, and every single noise. he peeks a smile before you notice, quickly reverting his attention back onto you before you get suspicious.

whispers sweet nothings into your ear, making you squirm knowing that he’ll go back onto the tape later just to jerk one out to your cute face again. watches you in real time getting flustered by the kisses he’s pressing all over your face, simultaneously tugging off your light pink panties before stuffing them in his pocket. ew gojo :(

gross boy asks if your ready, tossing your pretty legs over his shoulder, having his camera pick up every detail about your soft body below him.

your chubby tits, pretty manicured nails pressed against them, your soft tummy and chubby thighs, and your pretty feet covered in frilly laced socks.

he’s obsessed with the way your socks make you look like such a sweet innocent girl, and going back on the tape makes him realize just how filthy he is getting off to the sight of your cute legs over his shoulder, watching your legs bump back and forth with a view of his fit back as he pumps into your fat cunt relentlessly.

always has the volume on max when he’s watching your first and only tape, listening intently to your mewls of his name and sweet asks for a small kiss.

“kiss, please, toru ? wan’ a kiss!”

“mhm baby, y’want a kiss?”

he teases, but of course he fulfills your wish. what type of man would he be if he didn’t?

he doesn’t even mind when you turn away to not have to bare the embarrassment of looking into him while he fucks you senseless, all because he knows it’s all caught on camera. watches as your expressions grow from pained to pleasure, face completely flushed and eyes scrunched as you try your hardest not to cum early to impress the man. how cute.

and finally he gets to watch the way your eyes roll to the back of your head when you cum on his cock, a sweet layer of heavy slick coating him and his balls all over. watches your tummy inflate when he finally cums in that tight cunt if yours, and watches you desperately try to cover yourself and your face out of embarrassment when it starts leaking out of your sore pussy.

what he doesn’t know about is your little phone under his pillow, the one you had been laying on doing the same, recording an audio of his sweet tender coddles and heavy pants, his moans and cries of your name. the bed creaking gently back and forth as his pace grows, creaks growing louder. the recording you’d turn to as soon as he dropped you back home, and fiddle your clit and little pussy to while lewdly moaning his name.

what perverts :(

[cathnospam]

Content Warning: College MHA AU, Oral (F! Receiving), Bakugo being Bakugo, Reassurance, SoftDom!Bakugo

You cried during sex and it freaked Bakugo out…

“B-bab—-y/n?!” The soft concerned look on his face in contrast on what he was just doing between your thighs was almost enough to make you break into a chuckle.

Not knowing what personal space is he cupped your chubby tear stained cheeks with his warm sweaty palm and rubbed the wetness away the best he could, “Why didn’t you use the safe word?!”

You blink, you could feel your high slowly wearing off if it wasn’t for his knee rubbing up against your clit. He didn’t even realize he was so close. “Huh?”

“Did I hurt you? Why —why didn’t—“

The tears just flowed naturally from your face, this was your first time with him and this new feeling of passion left you overwhelmed, his kissed, his curious touches, the groans and pants coming from you both as you rolled around in the messed up sheets of his bed.

His mouth was just as curious and intense as his hands, and in Bakugo fashion he gave it his all, looking up over the valley of your pretty breast to take notes of your reactions; to watch your face change when his tongue flicks in a new area, his lips practically made out with your lower ones which drew out a slurry “Katsuki~” and whine, which turned him on so much he kept doing so until he slid his thick muscle inside you, his ego inflated in ways he didn’t think could hearing you whine and moan for him, he grew confident, shaking his head back and fourth, in circles softly groaning while the slick mixture of his drool and your arousal. His forearm holding down your thighs to get a wider view of your his pretty pussy.

Who knew he was such a messy eater.

But he stopped, you started crying.

The blonde would first hurt himself before he ever hurts you, especially after giving him the chance to share such an intimate moment . He panicked.

“Katsuki, it’s okay.” You cut off his stammers, his voice was already cracking, you tend to forget how sensitive he really is under that hard exterior. You rose your back up on the headboard and pulled him down, his arms changing you in on the side of you, “I wasn’t in pain. It was the opposite.”

“How, dumbass you fucking—“

“Shut up.” You try to keep a deadpanned face, but the scent of your pussy on his breath made you subtly bite your lip, it was hot. “Well first off you were overstimulating me. Secondly, sometimes we can instinctively cry when something feels good or overwhelming, kinda like when you see people cry during weddings. They’re…happy tears.”

His face was pouted, small beads of sweats trickling down his forehead, and cheeks so warm and squishy you pinch ‘em to get a reaction out of him, “Tch….i knew that.”

“….I was really making you feel good?”

You smile, landing a slow kiss on his slightly thinner ones and tugging his fattier lower lip, you nod, “You made me feel really good. So good I cried. It’s a compliment.”

Bakugo ponded for a few seconds,finally relaxing his body to let you hold him for a moment, your heart beats laid in sync with each other, enjoying the quiet ambiance of his dorm , naked and comfortable.

“Do you still wanna keep going or wanna try again later?”

“Only…only if you want to—-I mean I do obviously, but I don’t wanna make it weird.”

“You couldn’t make it weird if you tried I wanna keep going….i was close.” You fake pouted at him, a crack of the smile came from Bakugo, he sighed in fake annoyance rising up,

“Then lay back,” He says as he pulls you by your thighs so you can lie flat on your back, “this time don’t cover your mouth when I eat you, okay? ….You sound hot.”

“We won’t hear the end of it in class tomorrow…”

“I don’t give a fuck.” His last words were muffed by his lips pressing against your sticky gooey pussy.

[prosypepper]

wet dreamz

summary: it’s your (and your bf’s/husband’s/hookup’s/whatever’s) first time together. .

warnings: nsfw for all so 18+ mdni!; virginity loss on both parts, premature ejaculation, unprotected p in v, talks about virginity, college au (gojo); hookups, fingering, dominant kento, talks about virginity (nanami); unprotected p in v, rough sex, little bit of dirty talk, seduction (toji); oral, friends to lovers (geto).

pepper's notes: IT'S finally here...thank you all soo much for 1k i am so so appreciative & i am SO SO sorry it took me this long to get this out. i've been going through it so thank u all for understanding. i love all of u so much thank u all. MWAH MWAH.

satoru gojo

nervous? check. horny? check. praying to god you can’t see the huge erection in his pants? also check.

maybe satoru was an idiot for telling you he wasn’t a virgin, when he was in fact the biggest virgin in the universe, possibly. and maybe you were an idiot for talking him up and inflating his ego even more—and avoiding the conversation about whether or not you were a virgin, too.

either way, satoru’s big talk and your enabling caused you to be in this position—stradding your almost-boyfriend’s lap, desperately and sloppily moving your lips against his. silently, your pray in your mind that you’re doing everything right, threading your fingers through the white locks of satoru’s hair and trying to keep up with the pace of his enthusiastic make-out.

“do y-you—wanna…” satoru breathes out as he pulls away for a second, “you know.” he shrugs, looking off to the side out of anxiety for your answer. your own eyes flicker down for just a second, stomach flipping over at the question.

you’ve been through the innocent stages—the cute crushing and passing looks—and now, it’s time to own up to all that talking from the not-so-innocent stage you’ve built.

“mhm,” you hum, refusing to look at satoru just as much as he is to you. it’s obvious how nervous you are, palms sweating and gulping. knees digging into the soft plush of your dorm bed mattress, you’re readjusting your weight over and over because you can’t sit still.

satoru’s hands squeeze your hips, slightly pressing you down to feel the bulge that’s been prodding against his pants for about thirty minutes. eyes widening, you look at satoru—who’s about to burst. his face is all red and flushed, and his lip is pulled in between his perfect teeth.

shit, he’s about to lose it.

impatient, satoru ushers you to move off of his lap and onto the bed, swiftly rearranging your bodies to where you’re trapped beneath him. butterflies twirl in your stomach, more intense as the seconds go by, and you swear you’re about to throw up when satoru pulls his shirt off.

he’s gorgeous, obviously—but his toned torso and reddened skin from all his blushing are so pretty up close. satoru’s fingers hook into the waistband of your shorts, eagerly pulling them down before you grab his wrist as a reflex. he stops and looks you in the eye, letting you settle down for a second before you let go. it’s charming, really—he wants nothing more than for you to want this.

because satoru’s wanted this for so long. he wants it bad.

lengthy fingers work your shorts and underwear down all at once, and your thighs snap shut as to not expose yourself even more. satoru’s hands rest on your knees, rubbing small circles while his eyes trace over your body.

 “you okay, baby?” he asks, voice just the littlest bit shaky.

“huh—oh, yeah, yes,” you mumble in response, “are you?”

“yeah—yes,” satoru answers, repeating after you, looking like he’s about to throw up. yet his anxiety doesn’t stop him from shoving his bottoms down, allowing his heavy length to spring free and finally be shown.

to say the least, it scares you even more knowing you’ll have to take that. satoru is huge, terribly long and painfully hard from all the teasing you’ve done to one another. you wince when satoru goes to separate your knees, and your hands immediately go to push at his chest.

“satoru,” you whisper, connecting your own hazy eyes with his, “i—i know that you’ve…done this before.” you bite your lip, blinking softly.

“um—yeah,” satoru deeply says, trying to focus on what you’re saying—but damn you look so pretty underneath him, and your skin is so soft. you’re so gorgeous and he’s once again about to lose it.

“i just…” your eyes flicker to the side, “i’ve never done this before. s-so…be gentle, please?”

oh, god.

satoru’s heart is going to burst out of his chest.

“it’s okay, i—i’ll be gentle. promise,” satoru assures you, bringing a hand to stroke your cheek. his touch makes you let out a deep sigh, and you feel so delicate in his grasp. vulnerable enough to finally separate your knees, slowly dropping them down and exposing your sinfully drenched cunt.

satoru’s face rightfully goes pale. everything he’s ever wanted is in front of him—you’re giving yourself up to him. satoru gojo. the random guy you met in class a month or so ago that was not so random now.

as the butterflies circle in his stomach, satoru sweetly trails his fingers down the inside of your thighs, forcing the pulse in between your legs to grow into a harsh heartbeat. he notices every small movement—the twitch of your legs and how intensely your chest heaves—and he believes you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid eyes on.

“careful, careful,” satoru mutters to himself, taking long seconds in between each of his movements. he doesn’t want to startle you—and even more, he doesn’t want to hurt you.

grunting lightly, the white haired man lifts your legs and rests the back of your thighs on top of his. this gets you even closer to him, both of you can feel the raw heat radiating off of one another’s bodies. satoru takes his length in his hand and taps it against your sticky folds, teasing your sensitive nerves and himself in the process.

“i’m gonna—gonna put it in now, okay?” satoru uneasily states.

“wait—but—oh!” you gasp as the tip—and only the tip—of satoru’s cock pushes past the resistant walls of your cunt, molding the tight space to fit him snugly. the stretch burns, it’s a sharp pain that shoots through you with no remorse. “mm—satoru, it hurts,” you whine, pushing against gojo’s built abdomen.

yet when he doesn’t budge, you look up at his eyes, which are glued to scene below him. he can’t help it—because he’s not just in you, no—he’s impaling you with his girth, you’re stretched so far around him by just his tip. he felt guilty at first at the thought of hurting you, but now, nothing is in his mind except for that image.

“satoru!” you shout, snapping the man’s attention to you. satoru’s eyes are glowing with lust, his cheeks red and flustered. little to your knowledge, he’s already on the cusp of an orgasm—hell, he was there before he’d even got his shirt off.

“i’m sorry—shit—i’m sorry, baby,” satoru babbles, before dislodging himself from your hole, strings of slick lewdly connecting the tip of his cock to your folds. “fuck—i’m so sorry,” he grunts, just as a few huge ropes of translucent white cum spurt from his cock, coating your abdomen in the substance.

your eyes are wide in surprise at how quickly it all happened, not even having a moment in your mind to process that you just made the satoru gojo cum in a few seconds. all it took was a little kissing and some gruesomely lewd imagery—and he was putty in your hands.

satoru falls atop you, becoming dead weight as his post-orgasmic state forces him to give out. his chest heaves against yours, his snow white hair tickles your shoulder. as much as you want to push him away—there’s something awfully sweet about the interaction. he’s close, closer than he’d allowed himself to be previously.

shaky breaths are shared between you, as is the warmth from your bodies—the warmth from your hearts—and all the emotions overcoming satoru are all too obvious. you shuffle around one another into a more comfortable position, until satoru’s head is on your chest, listening to your heartbeat.

“are you okay?” you whisper, threading your fingers through satoru’s hair to twirl a few strands.

“yeah,” he sighs, cuddling up to you even more. there’s something hidden in the way he’s acting, but you don’t mind for now—you allow the vulnerability to sink in.

because it’s way too obvious this boy was lying about not being a virgin.

kento nanami

the world of hookups was difficult to navigate.

sure, you were technically trying to find a boyfriend—but everyone knows dating apps aren’t really the best thing for that. it had landed you a few matches and a couple of okay dates; but you hadn’t been quite as far with anyone as you had made it with your current date.

kento nanami, a rather distinguished businessman who had “just looking to relieve some stress” in his bio, had taken you out to an expensive restaurant and then to a very expensive hotel afterwards. whatever charm this man had worked a million times over on you—you weren’t sure if it was his demeanor or that rolex on his wrist—but whatever it was, it absolutely lured you all the way into a king size bed with nanami.

he was still mostly dressed, only his shoes were off and placed next to the bed, and his powder blue dress shirt was unbuttoned about halfway down, revealing his toned chest and a rather uncharacteristic gold chain that was previously hidden. nanami’s hair was still in perfect place, not having even broken a sweat.

you, on the other hand, have your dressed hiked up to just above your legs and the top tucked underneath your tits—pretty much on full display for kento besides the fact he’s behind you, strong legs prying your own open.

your thigh twitches when kento runs his fingers up and down the soft flesh, your hands resting on his biceps to keep yourself from running away. quite interested in what was in store for the night, you weren’t going to fight back—honestly, who would run away from a man as gorgeous as kento?

“do you do this often?” you shakily ask to break the thick silence, staring down at your bodies.

“do what, sweetheart?” kento’s monotone voice replies, using his free hand to reach up and grab under your jaw.

“this. take girls to hotels to…do stuff,” you allude to the same thing he’s doing now, turning your head with kento’s hand to look up at him. your soft lashes bat at the blond man as he chuckles, deep, giving just the slightest smile at your questions.

“not too often,” he simply says, kissing right next to your lips, “why?”

“uhm,” you croak, losing track of thought the moment his lips touched your face, “i don’t know. i’m sorry.”

“don’t apologize,” kento softly chuckles, letting go of your head to rest on the side of his chest, “just relax, okay? i just want to take care of you.”

just relax, breathe, you repeat to yourself over and over again while you listen to kento’s steady heartbeat. your heart is racing but inevitably slows for the time being listening to the slow thump of your hookup’s heart. his fingers continue to trace small shapes over your thighs, every now and again moving just a little higher.

kento is painfully hard under his dress pants, yet he’s restraining himself for now—because he’s going to do what he came here to do first.

“can i touch you, love?” nanami asks, pecking a small kiss to your temple afterwards.

“yes, mhm,” you murmur, thickly swallowing in anticipation as his fingers begin to inch towards your heat. you can feel how wet you are—but you’re rather embarrassed for nanami to find out just how easily he riled you up.

“let me ask you something,” kento begins, dipping his fingers into your folds to feel the amount of slick conjured up, “are you a virgin?” and he’s not asking in a weird way like pretty much every other man you’ve known; he’s asking genuinely, because he has the gut feeling to be gentle.

“uh—i—,” you mumble, before finally admitting a small, “yes, i’m sorry.”

“aw,” kento coos, beginning to run his fingers over your aching heat, “don’t apologize, i’ll be gentle.” although you’re appreciative to his gracefulness, you begin to wonder just how rough he usually was—and those sinful visuals make you throb against nanami’s fingers.

“okay, please,” you hiss, the sensations of kento’s fingers working your cunt running through your body. hands grab at his arms tighter, your sensitivity making it difficult for you to stay still.

you’re almost sure that you’ve never been so turned on before, and your elevated responses to nanami’s simple touches are an attestment to that. his middle finger focuses on your sensitive bud, going between movements of flicking and slowly rubbing circles around and around.

“how does this feel?” nanami questions, watching every move—every twitch—that you make. he sees just how new this is to you, and he would be lying if he said it didn’t make him just a little bit prideful.

“good. so good,” you babble, eyes squeezing shut when kento begins to pick up his pace. the pleasure runs all through you, intense, that orgasmic feeling creeping up on you much sooner than you’d ever been able to do yourself.  

kento’s like a magician. he makes your hips wriggle and your legs twitch effortlessly, he causes your face to contort in a indecent way without even trying, it seems. hell, the increasing pace of his fingers on your clit is almost making you crawl away, your nails are digging into his skin and you don’t even realize it.

“stay still,” kento commands, using his free hand to press down right on your abdomen, “don’t fight it, darling. don’t fight it.”

his words calm you down just a little, instead you just stay in place while your body jolts every other second from the sensitive pleasure he’s causing within you. breathless whines fall from your lips in the utmost pathetic way, signaling just how good you feel to kento.

“what is it, hm? tell me,” kento tells you, staying at an intense, fast pace just to make you lose your mind a little more.

“i think,” you whine, breath hitching as the feeling in your tummy intensifies, “i might cum.” as embarrassed as you may be to admit it, you simply cannot help what falls from your mouth. it’s all kento’s fault.

“you can cum, my love,” kento assures, pressing a kiss into your hair, “you can do it.”

somehow, his voice erases every anxious thought in your mind, your body responding with nothing but pathetic moans and a very, terribly, intense orgasm you didn’t even recognize as being so close. kento can feel on his fingers when you finally cum, chuckling once again to himself at how easily he coaxed an orgasm out of you.

it’s cute, really.

you lay back on him after calming down—with your hair all messy and face somewhat sweaty—you’re so adorable in his arms, kento thinks he might just have to turn this into more than a one night stand.

toji fushiguro

if toji had known what he was getting himself into with you, he’d probably accepted that deal from shiu wayyy earlier.

bossy, crude and mean—you were everything toji had ever dreamed of in a woman. the type that didn’t take shit, you’d go toe-to-toe with a man twice your size without hesitation, and there was something about it toji truly admired.

after his first time meeting you, he understood why shiu had told him not to fuck with you.

how could he not, though?

toji was about to fuck you right now.

he couldn’t help the natural charm he used on everyone, and especially women, and he couldn’t help that you fell for it, either. shiu would be pissed if he ever found out about it—hell, he’d kill him—but you only live once, right? there’s no way toji could turn down an offer such as this from a bombshell like you.

“you sure you’re not married?” you’re purring into toji’s ear, running your fingers over his chest, “you’re so handsome, toji.”

every bit of sultry poison that spills from your lips is music to toji’s ears, making his heart thump just a little harder and the tent in his pants to get just a bit stiffer. his big arm his lazily wrapped around your waist, and that sleazy grin of his pulls at his lips at your question.

“yes, ma’am,” toji says with a nod, holding up his left hand to show the absence of a wedding band on his ring finger.

with that, you throw a leg over his lap, fixing yourself to straddle toji’s lap and rest your arms around his neck. looking him straight in the eyes, you’re satisfied that your little plan had come together so easily.

toji was wrapped around your pretty, manicured finger—and he had no clue. that little charm he was so sure of was nothing in comparison to yours.

“do you want to fuck me, toji?” you ask, glossed lips forming a pretty little pout and your head cocking to the side innocently. toji’s adam’s apple bobs when he swallows thickly, a little crack in the confident and cocky façade he put on in front of you.

“fuck yeah,” toji whispers, hands gripping at your waist.

to say the least, toji really meant that little “fuck yeah,” because it only takes him a few seconds to rip your clothes—and his—off and flip you over. he’s in a daze when he pries your legs open, staring straight at your messy, wet pussy—immediately lifting one of your legs up and attaching his calloused fingers to your clit.

“jesus,” toji breathes, in utter awe at how soaked you are, his eyes never leaving your body. you hum in response to the pleasure, softly biting your lower lip and studying the broad man in front of you. toji quickly uses your slick to lube up his cock, grunting at the small chill that runs up his spine from finally allowing himself some friction.

growing ever impatient, you shimmy your hips down to signal you’re ready. the squelch that reverberates through the room when toji finally slides in is downright disgusting, and you sigh in content at the feeling of being stretched open.

toji immediately groans, loud, and throws his head back at how you feel—tight and warm around him, greedily sucking his length in the more he pushes into your walls. smiling devilishly at toji, you wrap your legs around his waist to pull him in even closer, giving in to your desires and pushing him to do the same.

“stop that,” toji roughly commands, squeezing your thigh to keep his self-control in check—or at least try his best to. you know what he’s saying is only for his own benefit.

but that’s not what you want—and toji should know by now you got whatever you wanted.

“stop what?” you question, interlocking your heels behind him. a finger twirls your hair as you look at toji dumbly, as if there wasn’t a single coherent thought in your mind. yet every move you make is orchestrated to a t, pushing and pushing toji to finally snap and just give you what you want.

what you need.

“fuck,” toji’s moaning the curse over and over when he slowly begins to move, gently rocking his hips back and forth to meet yours, “you feel so fucking good, oh my god.” he praises you so gently under his breath, silently hoping you won’t hear him as to not inflate your ego anymore.

“tojiii,” you whine, a small pout forming once again on your pretty lips, “harder.”

toji shakes his head, whisps of black hair moving around in unison with it, refusing to look into your eyes. he looks anywhere else—your tits, your stomach, your cunt—because he’s afraid he’ll give in the moment he finally catches your pupils.

but fuck, are you convincing.

“harder?” toji repeats, “fuckin’ harder?”

his hips pick up speed at the same time that his hands come to grab your arms, affectively pinning you down to the mattress. you allow your legs to spread lewdly, opening up fully for toji to use.

the tip of toji’s cock prods at your cervix, the pleasurable pressure going through your whole body. he’s going at you like an animal, harshly impaling your cunt with his girth, all senses of caring and restriction thrown out the window.

though you might regret it in the morning, you’re going to get what you want.

suguru geto

“suguru, stop moving.”

the long haired man winces and holds his breath at the sting of the alcohol, gripping onto the counter you’re sat upon. your knees rest at his sides, barely holding suguru in place, nevertheless not allowing him to move due to your fussing when he did so.

he had gotten into a fight with some guy at a party, causing him to show up to your dorm battered and bruised with a few cuts over his handsome face. now, a couple clear band-aids litter his skin, and suguru’s eyes stay on yours in hopes you’ll look into his.

all the while, you wonder why suguru had come to you out of all the people (and women) he knew. there was an unsaid tension between you two, sometimes sexual and other times just tension.

the two of you were idiots in love, and yet, neither one of you had the guts to say anything about it.

“there we go,” you sigh, running your thumb over the last bandage placed above suguru’s eyebrow. finally, you look suguru straight in the eyes for only a second, catching his dreamy gaze.

“you’re so pretty,” suguru faintly whispers, giving you the tiniest little smile. he’d had the habit of calling you pretty and gorgeous in a “hyping you up” sort of way—but this was different. he meant it.

so much so, in fact, it only takes him about three seconds to kiss you. it’s a long peck, mostly catching you by surprise, before he leans back with wide eyes and a dropped jaw.

“suguru—,”

“i’m so sorry, fuck,” he apologizes, paralyzed in place with his hands still gripping the counter. his eyes remain locked with yours, the fear of ruining your friendship behind them.

“suguru,” you repeat, bringing your hands up to the sides of his face. you rest them there firmly, feeling the increasing heat of his cheeks under your palms. pulling his face towards yours, you egg him on to kiss you again, this time with reciprocation on your part.

it’s hot, you’re swapping spit with the dark-haired man without a second thought, allowing your tongues to interlock and twist around each other. butterflies flutter in your tummy, but you swallow them and let yourself relax into it all.

the rest comes easily—all of that tension built up for years at this point is finally coming to a head, giving in to all of those desires you’d only had in the comfort of your bedroom. your arms rest over suguru’s shoulders, your hands tangle in his hair, while his hands come to squeeze you wherever he can grab—your waist, your ass—anywhere he can place his greedy fingers and grasp onto.

“let me—,” gasp, “—eat you out, please,” suguru begs in between kisses, barely allowing himself to heave for air.

those annoying butterflies pick up again—god, you could throw up at his suggestion—yet instead you’re pushing his head down, down, until he’s on his knees in front of you. your shorts are quickly tugged off along with your panties, leaving you in nothing but a big t-shirt on the counter of your tiny bathroom.

the room is filled with raw lust, as are suguru’s eyes when he finally gets a glimpse of your soaked heat. it’s a million times better than he could’ve imagined, no mental image could ever be like the real thing—warm, real and wet, right in front of his face; and all for him.

suguru starts off slow, littering small kisses along your inner thighs while parting your knees, until there’s enough room to fit his head closer to your cunt. he gives small kisses to your folds, barely suckling on your clit to pull small gasps of moans from your throat.

“fuck, suguru,” you whimper, running your fingers through his hair and giving a light tug.

“hmm?” he hums into your cunt, vibrating against your core in the most sinister way. your words are long forgotten after that, only giving a big sigh in response.

suguru’s tongue dips from between his lips to lick a long stripe up your cunt, going just a tad slower to focus on your clit. his tongue circles around and around the swollen bud, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your abdomen and down your legs.

already, you can feel that tiny knot begin to form the longer suguru goes on, becoming more intense by the second. he’s harsh, vulgar sucking and slurping sounding throughout the room. the counter below you is soaked in your arousal, as is the lower half of suguru’s face.

you’re just that messy—and he loves it.

he’s living for it.

suguru didn’t even realize how much he loved you—how much he adored and admired you, inside and out—until this. until he was down on his knees, in front of you, begging for you without any words coming out of his mouth. until he had finally allowed himself to look into your eyes deeper than ever before.

“i love you—mmph—so much,” suguru hums into your folds, just as he’s taking that knot to the verge of snapping.

“i-love-you-too-suguru, please don’t stop,” you mutter, throwing your head back against the mirror, before you can even realize what you’re saying back—but it all comes so naturally you don’t even think twice. it’s not even orgasm brain—it’s true, just as true as when he said it to you.

suguru’s tongue completely focuses on your clit—swirling around and sucking the swollen bud until you’re almost thrown over the edge, finally toppling over with a spew of ‘i love you’s and ‘please don’t stop’s. your body goes limp against the mirror of the bathroom, chest dramatically heaving for many moments while suguru helps you ride through the feeling. he stands up and wipes his face off with the back of his hand, smiling to himself at the vision of a fucked-out you who had just confessed your feelings to him.

one of your eyes finally creeps open after a few minutes, only to be met with suguru giving you a shit-eating grin, his hand resting atop your thigh. he can feel how delicate you are at the moment; he doesn’t want you to run away and lock him out of your life just because you told him how you feel—but you wouldn’t do that anyway.

 suguru confessed first, after all.

once again thank u all so much. i love u.