#its perverts release day!!

[parkerluvsu]

my thoughts on Ethel Cain's "Perverts" as i listen to it:

Track 1: Perverts

such a haunting way to open an album, i think it took 3 seconds for me to get chills honestly. hearing "nearer my god to thee" in such a different way than i usually do was so disturbing. the longer the song went (12 min), the more comfortable i felt sitting and listening to the droning sounds in the background. the last line, "it's happening again honey" is just such a great tie in to everything about the Ethel Cain lore.

Track 2: Punish

from the first time i heard this song (as a single), i was so glad to hear the piano that immediately took me back to "Preachers Daughter" and the vocals!! as much as i love instrumental tracks, it's always welcome to hear her voice. her voice is almost floating above the instrumentals and background noises (creaking?) and a contrast to the dark lyrics. the line "only god knows" is weirdly comforting to me, yet again reminding me of "Preachers Daughter" and of course the guitar when "they made me leave" is so amazing. the song is very angelic at the start, but a feel the frustration starting to build during the song, and like all her songs, it gives me chills.

Track 3: Housofpsychoticwomn

the clock (?) ticking immediately reminded me of my grandmother's house, spending the night there, sitting in silence except for the ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway. the repeated phrase of "i love you" yet again sends a chill down my spine, overlapped with words and phrases i can't quite make out. it feels like im asleep and hearing people talk around me, or in another room, just laying there and trying to pick up what they're saying. in another way, it sounds like the inside of my head, indescribable voices having conversations while i try to comfort myself. there is almost a death rattle sounds that is intertwined with groaning singing or wailing. around the 10 min mark, i definitely started getting overwhelmed with all the sounds, and it was uncomfortable, but i suppose that is what the song wanted to do. it was a relief when the sounds dropped out, but i was totally caught off guard by the "boom" i guess you could call it, i didn't expect it at all.

Track 4: Vacillator

the drums are very welcome, and a great base for the rest of the track. the vocals are (of course) amazing, they're gentle, soft and sweet. it sounds like a "classic" love song at first, but listening to the lyrics it is pretty sexual, which is not surprising to me, but it is surprising to hear such (is vulgar the word?) vocals in such a sweet sounding song, but it's one of my favorite things that artists do. i honestly would love to dance to this song at my wedding (if i found someone as freaky as me), even though the lyrics are a little explicit, the song is so gorgeous overall.

Track 5: Onanist

the vhs tape whirring is a sound i always love that songwriters use, and the quality of the instrumentals sounds straight out of an old game, like im exploring an abandoned building or town. the vocals are almost sirenlike, pulling you in and layered in such a beautiful way. this song definitely feels like im getting lured in by something/someone, the vocals mixed with the harsher instrumentals that mix into it later in the song aid this feeling. another time where everything drops out, and is replaced with low droning and muttered words, "it feels good". this feels like a signature Ethel Cain track to me, and so far, is one of my favorites on the album.

Track 6: Pulldrone

the spoken words at the start of this song almost feel like they're being pulled out of someone, or it's something they've memorized or recited many times. the gong or bell or whatever that was, sent a tingle down my spine and through my eardrum. "i am what i am but we are not the same" future tattoo alert!!! constant shivers and chills throughout this one, the spoken word and the droning grating sound only getting louder feels like it's actually inside of my body. the droning going pretty much until the end of the song reminds me of track 1, leaving me to sit in silence and listen to what sounds like grating droning violins? yet again, one that makes me uncomfortable but one that is undeniably Ethel Cain.

Track 7: Etienne

this song absolutely sounds like a soundtrack for an old open world game or something, like i can imagine sitting in front of the tv and playing a game while this track is playing from the broken speakers of the tv. the peaceful music continues throughout the entire song. at the end of the song, it feels like im laying down on the carpet of my old living room and listening to an old record, it makes me painfully nostalgic.

Track 8: Thatorchia

starting out with a loud echoing noise was not how i predicted this to start after the last track was so chill, but it still keeps the same retro sort of vhs feeling that was very present in the previous track. the echoing vocals really make you strain to hear them over the harsh instrumentals, but to me, that only makes them more beautiful. the guitar is one of my favorite constant sounds in Hayden's discography, so i felt like a bit of a fangirl when it came in at the end. this song makes me feel like im running away into the woods to join a coven of witches.

Track 9: Amber Waves (my fav)

such beautiful guitar, the starting spoken word goes great with the mood the song has, sort of somber, slow but peaceful. the vocals come in yet again and im instantly transported to heaven. the harmony with herself sounds so so good, "days go by, time on without me/ill be alright" is so powerful and i feel like ive felt this way before, especially in depressive episodes, there's a lot of sadness, but eventually there's peace in that sadness, and it's beautiful. of course i think of "amber waves of grain" but also amber waves of hair, when looking at the title and lyrics of the song. it's a love letter to the empty country with nothing but fields of grain, but maybe also a love letter to a person, someone in the past where you can hardly remember anything about them, like looking in a foggy mirror, but you remember how you feel about them no matter how much time goes by. the guitar is so beautiful im not ashamed to say that i started crying and had to wash off my mascara.

in no way am i a professional music analyst or whatever, just talking about my feelings on my first listen. of course they'll change and grow over time but i wanted to document my first thoughts of an album ive been looking forward to since i knew of its existence. @mothercain thank you for all that you do and all that you are, and proving that it really is happening to everybody.

[reignpage]

Perverted things JJK men do (pre-relationship)

Gojo

He stares up at your skirt when you ascend the stairs. It’s too fun to guess what colour your panties are today. Sometimes they’re lace and sometimes they’re comfortable cotton. All of your panties are equal in his eyes — they’re all just so adorable. Some are polka-dots, some are floral, some are solid colours or have fun little puns on them, and if that’s the case then he likes to work those puns into his conversations with you.

Keeping track of your favourites is a past-time of his. 

Occasionally, you come into school with panties full of holes. It seems to be a comfort thing for you. Gojo’s not very impressed. He really wants to buy you new ones; he thinks he’s got your taste down pat. How could he though?

To do that he’d have to confess he uses his enhanced vision for inappropriate things. Maybe he’ll just have to get a package of the finest panties the world has to offer ‘mistakenly’ delivered to your place without a return address. 

For now, he’ll just have to settle for peering under his blindfold at the frills of your underwear and hope he’ll get to have the pleasure of seeing the cute little bow at the front one day.

Geto

This is something he’ll never admit because he hates himself for it but… 

Once in a while, usually when he’s feeling especially pent up and particularly masochistic, he lets you get banged up by a curse either by dodging just in time for you to get the brunt of a hit or by ‘accidentally’ pushing you in the way. Of course he never lets it get too far; he’d exorcise the curse before it could properly harm you. 

And you might be wondering why it’s masochism rather than sadism but that’s because he loves and hates patching your beat-up body after. Sure, he could take you to Shoko but he does love wiping the blood off your soft skin. He can peel some layers away, look down at your shirt, and see the curves and slopes of your chest. Or he can push your skirt up just a little to inspect the scratches on your thighs.

What he hates is not being able to use said beat-up body to relieve the tent in his pants. He’s had to learn to be content with watching you limp away, adjusting his cock in the shadows and breathing in the sharp smell of iron on the washcloth in his fist. 

Choso

Like a little vampire, he breaks into your home in the dead of night and creeps into your bathroom. But only once a month. Because there’s a special time he anticipates like a child waits for Christmas. Choso loves the smell of your used pads and he suckles the — I’m kidding. 

Choso’s actual perverted hobby is pretending to feel ill. Why?

Because you’re so super duper kind that you always let him rest on your lap. The plush of your thighs is wonderful! 

Truly one of those humanly pleasures he never knew he’d crave but he does. He also loves when you play with his hair and he whimpers when you tug. It makes him imagine how you’ll grip his pigtails when he’s in between your legs rather on top of them. 

He especially loves doing this fraudulent routine after sparring; you’re all sweaty and panting and the sweet but musky scent that’s been brewing at the apex of your thighs is at its strongest. As quietly as possible, he takes long and deep inhales and release murmurs of satisfaction. 

You’ve yet to notice and until you do, he’ll never stop his sham.

Toji

Being an assassin has its perks: the pay is great and the learned skills is even greater. 

He’s been hooked up with fantastic inconspicuous cameras. To test out his hiding skills, he’s obscured a couple in your home. Okay, more than a couple. There’s at least ten in your bedroom. 

Now, don’t judge him too much; he doesn’t spend all day watching you. That’d be crazy. What he does instead is watch you only when he’s bored. That’s reasonable, no?

Whipping his phone out, he watches live footage on his phone. Usually you’re just watching TV, doing chores or napping — you do a lot of that, Christ. But sometimes you do something very, very interesting. 

Toji loves when your hand begins wandering. You could be sitting on the sofa gasping at some shitty soap opera and suddenly that hand is groping your tit, flicking a nipple, before it creeps into your panties. Timing his hand with yours, he jerks off at the same pace as you. 

He even has ongoing competitions where he arbitrarily decides to cum before or after you. And of course, he has a folder for the best cumshots he opens when you’re sleeping and he really needs to cum. 

Nanami

He doesn’t do anything perverted, he’s literally perfect what.

That’s what he wants you to think but no, this man has a repressed side from being a long-time virgin, which you can thank his dumbass emo cut in high school for. 

What Nanami likes to do is spill coffee on your clothes. Well, it doesn’t have to be coffee. It could be anything and it has been many things: ink, soup, tea, paint. You name it, he’s spilt it. 

He always offers to take your clothes for dry cleaning. You used to argue with him about how nice he is but he insists. It’s the least he could do. Now, you know the drill. So you hand over all your layers, which, much to his dismay, excludes your panties and he rushes away and makes a left instead of a right to his home.

Still, he gets to have enough fun with everything else. He does eventually take your clothes to be cleaned but not before, he brings up an item of clothing, whatever his cock craves that day, to his nose and he drowns his senses with the smell of you. 

At his worst, he wraps your pencil skirt around his throbbing cock and jerks it up and down at a loving pace he thinks you’d really enjoy. And when he rips up a shirt or two, he blames it on the careless cleaners who just don’t know how to appreciate fashion. 

Sukuna

Hires incompetent people. 

It combines two things he likes.

Killing

Being a hero…just for you

They trip and spill tea on your clothes? 

Dead. 

They bump into you?

Dead.

They don’t know their place and sasses you?

Super dead. 

Sometimes they’re more competent than they initially appeared and he has to wait for far too long for them to make a mistake. So… he expedites the process, shall we say. 

He’ll push them into you, he whispers foul gossip about your terrible character in their ear, and sometimes, in his thirst for a wrong to be righted, he conjures up an ill-act against you in his delusions— they looked at you in a disrespectful way, they said something about your dress or your hair, and they most certainly were the ones who took your precious hairpin, not him.

The shed blood is for you, like a mural an artist dedicates to their muse. He watches the bodies pile up and one of his four arms finds its way through the complex layers of his clothes, tugging at his heavy balls and imagining its you sucking them into your mouth in gratitude. 

If only you knew how kind the King of Curses truly is. 

[lacedwithsuguru]

˳ . ⋆ ⭒ A LITTLE BIT HARDER NOW

synopsis: being the water girl for suguru geto’s basketball team made it incredibly easy to keep him in your line of sight as his secret admirer. some may call it obsessive, some may call it a hobby (only you call it that)—but to each their own. but wait, why’s he talking to you? and now you’re heading to his teams party?

pairing: girl!failure reader x oblivious basketballplayer!suguru

contents: reader is lowkey a pervert but also a virgin (get a grip.), making out, dry humping, heavy smut, noise control, protective sex, down-bad suguru/idiot suguru.

wc: 10.3k (sowwwy.)

absolutely not proofread. (when is it ever?)

cover art by mossmaybe1 on twt divider credit to @thecutestgrotto

His wired headphones dangled over the slopes of his ears, the same ears adorned with piercings ranging from his industrials, tragus, daith, orbital, and the fan-favorite, gauges. The muted hum from the buds played his favorite warm-up tune, A Little Bit Harder Now by She Wants Revenge.

A little weird to see the star player of the Tokyo Prefecture Universities’ Basketball team being a punk, indie, self-proclaimed tragic 20-year-old man. Indulging in his oddball, societally paradoxical fantasies of being in a modern, grunge rock band whilst being a D1 athlete like an emo and indecisive Troy Bolton died out when he realized that he simply didn’t have the time to indulge in both.

At least, not until basketball season let up.

Running his fingers through his raven tresses, he tied them up with a black band and let a few strands loose to frame his face. He was clad in his blue jersey and shorts, shutting his locker and making his way out of the changing room.

“Took you long enough. What, were you jerking off in there?” His white haired best friend joked, tossing an arm loosely over his shoulder.

“Satoru. Can I have about 5 minutes of peace before you ruin my day?”

Gojo raised his arms in mock defense before shuffling onto the basketball court.

“Geto,” Couch Yaga bellowed, crossing his arms and bearing down his hardened stare. “Glad to see you could finally join us. 10 extra laps after practice.”

The man in question simply laughed like it was another day, nodding his head and hurrying into pace beside his team that was currently dribbling their rounds around the court. It was their Sunday morning scrimmage before their big game on Monday night, determining whether or not they’d be going to Nationals upon the final score.

They’d been doing an impressive job so far this season, going continuously undefeated against every single team they’ve come up against. And knowing Kyoto National College’s reputation, along with their streak last year, he did not doubt that they had this game secured.

Gojo passed him the ball, to which he pivoted around their newest recruit, Haibara, and landed a lay-up.

“Sweet!” The younger boy exclaimed, pumping his fists and reaching his hand out to Geto for a high five. He released a low chuckle in response, slapping his palm against Haibara’s and ruffling his hair.

“You know, you’re not supposed to cheer for the other team.”

“Yeah, I know,” he pouted, opposing his inside-out jersey and dribbling around Geto.

“The guys’ seriously obsessed with you,” that mischievous voice whispered in Geto’s ear.

“Ah, leave him be, Satoru. I’m just glad he made it on the team.”

He simply shrugged, passing Geto the ball and getting into position. “One on one before Yaga gets on our ass?”

A smirk found its way upon Geto’s lip before he dribbled the ball and shoved it towards Gojo. “Teams gonna make us take this outside.”

“What, you scared?” Gojo teased, tossing the ball back.

Geto dribbled the ball between his bent knees, feeling his hair nearly coming loose from his swift movements. His eyes tracked his friend’s body, anticipating his next move.

Gojo had always excelled in offense, making sense that he would be the point guard. Yet, what he seemed to lack was his defensive techniques. Geto saw an opening and he sure as hell was going to take it.

Dribbling the ball behind his back, he paced his way towards Gojo, who was ready to steal, before Geto pivoted but faked it, sending Gojo tripping over his foot and landing a dunk.

Geto laughed at his friend, who was rubbing his bottom on the ground with a pout on his face, before extending his hand and helping him to his feet. “Man, you really gotta work on your defense,” he said between huffs.

Before Gojo could respond, a shaky voice called out. “Hey! You dropped this.”

Geto turned to look over his shoulder to see a girl, water bottles, and something small and black in her hand, hurrying over to him.

You stopped right before him and held your palm out to him. He furrowed his eyebrows, then turned his gaze downwards to see a black hair tie in your hand. Lifting his hand to his hair, he realized it had spilled out of its style and onto his shoulders.

What also didn’t go unnoticed to him was your slightly trembling hand. Taking the hair tie from your hand, he gave you his signature smile. “Thanks, I had no idea it came undone. Rest of practice would’ve been hell without it.”

Your head was downcast, not making eye contact with him, before you bowed while muttering something and hurried back to the sidelines. There was a water station set up that you were manning, where the teammates was going to and from to get a drink.

He cocked his head to the side, watching you work in a hurry to serve his teammates when he felt a hand on his shoulder. “She finally made a move.”

Nanami, the team captain, was watching you with a slight curl of his lips.

“What’re you talking about?”

“And I thought I was oblivious,” Gojo remarked, crossing his arms and eyeing you as well. You seemed to be in an effective flow of filling and handing out cups, yet the frantic look on your face didn’t go unnoticed, unaware of the three guys watching you.

“Is she a new addition to the managing crew?”

Nanami scoffed, smacking Geto upside the head. “She’s been the water girl for months now. You seriously haven’t noticed her?”

Geto felt a pang of embarrassment, shaking his head and eyeing his water bottle sitting idly against the bleachers. “Well, no. I bring my own water.”

“Yeah. We know,” Gojo and Nanami said in unison, rolling their eyes.

What was their problem?

—

You felt your heart practically slamming against your ribs, bruising from your very first interaction with Suguru Geto.

The irrefutable MVP of your university’s basketball team. Two years ago, during your freshman tour, you were able to witness the star athlete prodigy’s first game of the year during his freshman year. He’d scored 87 points all on his own and ridiculed not only the other team, but some of his upperclassmen.

Sitting in the bleachers with your friends, your eyes were drawn to his every move. Every flex of his tan, bulging biceps, every curl of his dexterous digits around the basketball, every shuffle of his large legs, you’d practically drooled over.

It was like fucking eye-candy. You were adamant on applying and getting into this school for the sole purpose of walking past him in the halls and catching a glimpse of him. You knew he was far out of your league, one of the most popular guys on campus, and you were an utter girl failure, nobody.

It’s definitely the confidence speaking, but that’s for later. Yeah, you were smart and got along just fine in your classes. But nothing about you stood out to him, or so you thought. It was a hell of a lot easier to interact with (replace with: stalk) Geto since you were both education majors. Through the grapevine, you’d heard he was looking to be a basketball coach so that once he graduated, he could join the national basketball team since he had the marks, and if need be, due to an unforeseen circumstance like an injury, he’d have his licensing to fall back on.

You, on the other hand, were pursuing an English education license. Writing had always come easily to you, along with sticking your nose in whatever book you found. You’d sworn that you’d foster a group of students to flock to your fan fiction websites and create their own content once you were a professional.

Besides the point, though, because right now, your fingers were cramping up after pouring small cups of water for the 20+ grown men since Coach Yaga decided to invite the junior varsity team to the scrimmage. And being only one water girl providing plastic cups that held around 200 mL of water that they’d down in one gulp, you were quite outnumbered.

Sweat managed to bead on your forehead, probably because this was the most you’d physically exerted yourself in a while due to your sedentary lifestyle, and you felt your fingers going numb. Damn carpal tunnel.

“Hey, need help?”

You could recognize that voice from a mile away, with headphones, during a rainstorm. Despite your wanting to be at least somewhat composed, your body betrayed you in every aspect as you jumped with a yelp. And what was worse was that you didn’t even look up at him. You fixed your eyes on the cups as you stilled completely, your brain and mouth giving up on you.

Suguru Geto was talking to you.

“Uh, you alright?”

You nodded quickly, grabbing the pitcher with ice and attempting to pour it into a plastic cup, but failing miserably as the freezing water sloshed all over your hand.

“Woah, easy there. Hold on,” he said, jogging from your side and heading to the bleachers while you unsuccessfully tried to make an effort to slow your heart that was threatening to explode.

“Here, use this,” he said, handing you a cotton towel. You held it, eyes fixed on the embroidery of his name and the crest of your university.

Glancing up, you met those gorgeously beautiful plum irises, ones you’d only seen through snapshots that the school provided on their sports website and his Instagram, an account you’d gotten embarrassingly familiar with despite not having the guts to hit the follow button.

His skin was even clearer up close, freckles dotting his tan cheeks. You had to make a few notes of his features that you’d bookmark for later—the slight arch of his nose, the sharp edge of his jawline, the plush lips you wanted to trace with your fingers-.

“Oh, uh, don’t worry. It’s not used,” he said, and you furrowed your eyebrows. He must be assuming that you were grossed out by the possibility of it being used, but that would honestly be even better. “You can keep it, I’ve got a spare in my-.”

“No!” You squeaked, and the suddenness surprised both of you, along with his teammates who were drilling. Shaking your head, you cleared your throat and rattled your brain for a response despite the ice running through your veins. “I’m fine, really. You can go back to-.”

“What’s your name?” He interrupted, cocking his head as his eyes scanned you.

There’s no fucking way that the Suguru Geto was asking for your name. Are you dreaming?

Your name trickled from your lips, and he nodded, mulling it over. And then, he breathed your name a few times, as if he were savoring the taste of it on his tongue. By now, you were so tense that your shoulders were hiked up so far they were nearly touching your lobules.

“Pretty,” he whispered, orbs scanning your figure before he leaned forward. You shut your eyes, completely straightening out in fear and wondering why on Earth he was getting this close. Was he…”

“Relax,” he chuckled, low and husky. Your eyes snapped open to see him leaning past you to grab a few plastic cups and lining them up. He lifted the pitcher and began pouring water into them seamlessly. “I’m not gonna bite.”

You froze, wanting to slap yourself multiple times for being so embarrassing, and let out a nervous laugh that went on a little too long to earn a sideways glance from Geto, to which you clamped your mouth shut at.

“You always like this?” He asked, and you weren’t sure if you should be offended.

Come on. Get it together. You’re making yourself look nuts in front of him!

“Only around black-haired basketball players who are power forwards.”

Woah. There’s no way your brain came up with that. Are you really flirting with Suguru Geto???

An eyebrow of his cocked, the corner of his lip twitching before curling upwards. “Is that so? And what makes me so special?”

You looked up from the plastic covering over the napkins you were attempting to rip open and pathetically failing at to match his gaze. Your breath hitched, and your newfound sense of confidence was lost to the wind.

You might have imagined it, but for a split second, you swore you saw his eyes dart down to your lips before making eye contact.

“Make that 30 laps,” Coach Yaga yelled from the opposite side of the court, and it broke whatever staring contest you were holding with Geto.

He cleared his throat and began stepping away. “I’ll, uh… I’m gonna head back. Try not to spill any more water,” he teased, sending a charming grin your way that had butterflies dancing in your gut.

You don’t even remember how the rest of the scrimmage went. You were hyper-focused on serving the drinks until Nanami approached you, tapping you out.

“Hey. Everyone’s headed home for the day. You okay?”

“Huh?” You looked up, the blonde seeing your frantic state and nearly laughing at you, but he held it in as your new close friend. The two of you sat next to each other in Econ last semester, and when you’d gotten the results for your first exam, he’d promised to help you pass with the sole requirement of you helping him land a date with Haibara, your friend from high school. Of course, you accepted it extremely quickly, and the two of you hit it off pretty quickly.

“Want us to stay back and help clean up?” Nanami asked, cocking his head over at Haibara who was rounding up the last of the basketballs.

“Oh! Jesus, Nanami. I’m so out of it today. And no, I’m all good. You guys can get going.”

Nanami nodded, ruffling your hair with a kind smile, before heading out with his boyfriend, who waved you goodbye.

The entire team shuffled out, and you collected all the discarded plastic cups into a large plastic bag. Your phone was resting on the folding table, playing the newest release of your favorite shoegaze band.

“Is that Wisp I’m hearing?” A familiar huffed out breath called, and you braced yourself before turning around.

There he stood in all his post-scrimmage, afterglow beauty. He changed into a hoodie and sweats, lifting his water bottle to his lips and taking a few deep gulps, water dribbling down his chin.

It took everything in you to be completely normal about this.

“Uh, yeah. This is their newest release Sw-”

“Sword.”

He finished the sentence for you, and you couldn’t ignore the way your heart skipped a beat. “I didn’t know you listened to them.”

He furrowed his eyebrows and made his way to you slowly. “Since when do you know anything about me?” His tone was light but the genuine concern in his lilt didn’t go unnoticed.

Fuck. How do you explain that you went on a deep dive to find his Spotify?

“Uh…” You froze, feeling your body tremble slightly as he stopped right before you, his height looming over you. He smelled so good right now, musky and sweat-ridden, laced with his signature cologne you’d sniffed in passing on more than one occasion. “I don’t. You just don’t seem like you’d listen to them…” you trailed off, your voice losing not only confidence, but volume.

Geto turned his head downwards, scanning his dark outfit as he was clad in all black, then met your gaze again. “You’re not very good at reading people, are you? I am literally their target demographic,” he chuckled, pointing out his hair and piercings.

An awkward smile made its way to your face as you continued picking things up around you, still very nervous in his presence.

He must have caught on, grabbing a few pieces of trash to help you dispose of while the quiet hung between the two of you.

“So,” you said, after mustering up some courage. “Why’re you here?”

Tossing his head back, he let out an exasperated sigh as his shoulders dropped a bit. “Coach Yaga’s been on my ass. Says I’ve been too lax during practice. The guy thinks I’m getting too comfortable.”

“Well, are you?” It felt a little weird to be talking to be on such casual speaking terms, but you brushed the thought away.He didn’t respond for a few beats, and you worried you’d ventured too far before he exhaled. “Honestly, yeah. Part of me has been struggling with, like, the meaning of it all. Everything’s been feeling quite useless these days.”

You eyed him for a moment, allowing him the space to continue before his eyes widened and he shook his head. “Fuck. Sorry, didn’t mean to unload all of that out of nowhere. Don’t feel compelled to sympathize or anything-.”

“I get it,” you whispered, pulling your plastic cleaning gloves off and tossing them into the bag. “Don’t know if it was like… an early, existential crisis of mine, but I often turned quite nihilistic.”

Geto absorbed every word you gave him as you paced over to the folding table to clear it of the pitcher.

“I think you just gotta make your own meaning. You can’t dwell in that depression, or else it’ll consume you. Finding your people and finding your place…” You trailed off, fixing your gaze before you. “That’s where you’ll find all the meaning you need.”

As you entered college, you had a difficult time finding your routine and fell into a dark descent. Schoolwork was overwhelming, living away from home felt isolating, and everything felt purposeless.

But it wasn’t until you’d met some friends who made you shine with every interaction, and a major that genuinely spoke to you, that things began to get better.

Peeking up at Geto, he seemed to be a painting in time, marveling at you in all of his beauty. Neither of you knew it, but the two of you shared something right now you hadn’t shared with anyone before.

“Agh,” you chuckled, waving your hands and dismissing the tension. “That’s just my thought process, really.”

You continued picking up the last of the scraps and tossed the bag off into the large trash can on the side of the gymnasium, dusting off your hands.

“Alright, there we go,” you said, picking your things up and preparing to head out.

“Hey, I know we just met today and all, but… would you like to come to my party tonight?”

You felt your body stiffen, unsure if you heard him right. “Sorry, w-what?”

“It’s just this stupid get-together we’re having at Chi Pi. Or Sigma Nu. I don’t remember. Uh, I’d totally get it if you had plans, though. This is such a last minute invitation…” he trailed off, rubbing his nape and looking off to the side with a genuine but awkward smile.

To be quite honest, you do not know what possessed you in that moment to accept such an invitation. “I’ll be there.”

Turning back to meet your gaze, he flashed you a heartfelt grin. “Really? Great, I can…” he patted his pockets and felt around until he pulled out his phone. “Here, put your number in.”

Again, you had no idea what possessed you to agree to this. With trembling hands, you nodded and tapped your digits into his device as nonchalantly as possible before handing it back. Your phone number was now in Suguru Geto’s phone. Don’t panic.

“Alright then. I’ll see you tonight,” he grinned, before jogging off to run his laps.

—

You don’t even remember your walk back to your dorm room, replaying every moment in the past hour. The flutter in your heart was unrelenting, images of his smile, wafts of his scent, all of it flashing in your mind to remind you that it really did happen.

Not to mention, you had physical proof that it all happened.

Sitting on your knees, you bent over your bed and gently laid the blue cotton towel onto your comforter and stared at it, gently tracing your finger against the embroidery.

It had his name stitched in white thread along with his jersey number, #3. Clutching it in your fist, you brought it up to your nose and took a whiff.

It had an earthy scent, some chlorine undertones as if he just washed it with some bleach detergent. Or had he brought it swimming?

Was this creepy? Oh, definitely. But that wasn’t stopping you in the privacy of your dorm.

“What’re you doing?”

You jumped, flinching at the sound of a voice behind you.

Nanami stood at your doorway, holding the knob to the door you left unlocked, Haibara peeking over his shoulder.

Scrambling to your feet, you shoved the towel underneath your bed and clamped your hands behind your back.

Nanami and Haibara exchanged a look before stepping in. “Geto says you’re coming to the party tonight!” The bowl-cut-haired boy exclaimed, hopping into your room with a skip. You let out an exhale of relief that didn’t go unnoticed by Nanami, silently eyeing the small lump of fabric on your bed.

“Uh, yeah. I’ll be there, but… how many people are coming?”

Nanami leaned against your door frame whilst his boyfriend plopped into your desk chair. “Dunno. Just some of the basketball team and a couple of friends. Shouldn’t be anything too crazy,” Haibara shrugged, busying himself with a stack of Post-it notes and flipping through them.

So this wasn’t one of their large-scale parties? You weren’t quite sure how to feel about this now, seeing as you didn’t have many mutual friends in that crowd. Sure, you knew Nanami, Haibara, and you worked on a couple of projects together with Gojo, but that was really it.

Nanami must’ve caught on to your worries, seeing as he elbowed his boyfriend to stop rambling on the topic of their new friend circle gossip. “Haiba, babe. Shut up.”

Haibara pouted and crossed his arms, spinning in his chair until he caught onto the blonde’s glare and rose to his feet, clamping his mouth shut.

Tossing you an empathetic glare, Nanami pushed off the door frame and beckoned Haibara with a throw of his head. “C��mon. We’ll see you later tonight, okay?”

After they made their way out, you immediately got to work.

Geto’s friend group was pretty close-knit, and in all honesty, you’d wanted to be closer to a lot of them for quite some time now. Your confidence and social skills may have deterred you in the past, but you weren’t going to let your opportunity go down the drain.

It took you quite some time to complete your everything shower routine, blasting your music whilst you scrubbed yourself to attempt to rid yourself of your nerves, and you’d left the steaming bathroom slightly nauseous and lightheaded. You slathered lotion all over your body, fixed your hair up, put on some light makeup, and draped your bedroom in nearly half of your wardrobe, thus you’d felt a hell of a lot more prepared.

You checked your phone for the time.

5 hours ago.

Had time really flown by that quickly? Not to mention, in the chaos of it all, you’d managed to miss a text. No, not just any text.

A text from an unknown number.

You felt your heart rate pick up, knowing who you were expecting a message from, a hiccup escaping your lips as your eyes widened so far they nearly touched your forehead.

Mentally preparing yourself, you paced around your room, biting your lip. It’s just a text. Open it.

Pressing on the notification, your eyes darted to drink in the letters on your screen.

xxx-xxx-xxxx: Hey, it’s Suguru Geto from earlier on the court. Looks like the party’s gonna be at Sigma Nu tonight. I really hope to see you there.

Your fingers twitched as you read over the text nearly 20 times, feeling like the world around you had gone completely still. He… hopes to see you tonight?

Deep breaths. Don’t scream. Don’t scream. Don’t-

The loudest squeal left your lips that your floor mates definitely heard, frantically slipping around your dorm room and sliding into your shoes.

Reaching for your purse and tossing it on your shoulder, you hurried out and realized that the party started about 15 minutes ago.

Good. You don’t wanna be the first person there, right?

What you hadn’t realized was that Sigma Nu was on the exact opposite side of campus, nearly a 20-minute walk, and you didn’t want to spend money on an Uber.

So you walked. Clasping your hands around the leather strap of your bag, fingers tapping excitedly against it. The walk gave you plenty of time to think over everything that’d been buzzing in your mind since you left the court.

It also gave you enough time to get incredibly nervous.

What if you were awkward? What if you made a fool of yourself and Geto no longer thought you were this mysterious water girl at his practice? Why had he finally noticed you today? What if all of your smooth commentary from earlier was just some beginner’s luck at flirtation?

You’d never been one to throw yourself to the current—entirely comfortable in the hermit shell you’d created. However, this isolation had made it possible that you’d never had your first real anything besides the awkward peck in the 6th grade from your classmate.

Maybe you should just turn back now. You’d never hung out with this crowd before, and you could very well be the only fresh face in the room today.

Fuck. This was a bad idea. Maybe your mysteriousness was a good run while it lasted, and you were setting yourself up for failure.

Again, it’s the low self-esteem talking.

And through all of your self-doubt and hyper-anxious thoughts, you found yourself standing in the yard of Sigma Nu’s frat house.

There didn’t seem to be a rager tonight. No drunken bodies spilling from the doorway, no loud music thrumming through the night street, no neon yard decorations to catch your eye.

This was probably a pretty small get-together.

And you had time to escape now. Nodding to yourself in acceptance of your girl loser ship, resigned to your nature of being a girl failure, you turned on your heel preparing to slink away, before you ran into a solid chest.

Glass clinking against each other resonated in your ears as you looked up to see shades peering down at you.

“Gojo?”

Tilting his head, he studied who just ran full throttle into him down the bridge of his nose before a small smile crept upon his lips, breathing your name in recognition. “Where you goin’ in such a hurry?”

Your eyes widened, scanning the street around to see if he’d been with anyone else, but he seemed to be alone. He was holding a few beer carriers in each hand, probably on drink duty. “N-nowhere… I uh… left my phone-“

“The phone in your bag?” He questioned, calling bullshit immediately and jutting his chin at your purse that wasn’t zipped completely shut.

You cringed, slapping your clutch and mentally wishing you were slapping yourself for your idiocy. “WOW! Thank you so much, I had been looking everywhere for it,” you exclaimed quickly, though you didn’t sound all too convincing.

“Uh-huh,” he nodded, picking up his stride towards the door. Your feet remained planted in place, watching him head to the stone steps, praying that he’d enter without a word like he hadn’t seen you try to escape, but of course, luck was not on your side. When was it ever? “You comin?” He prodded past his shoulder.

“Mhm!” You immediately hummed eagerly, your shoulders tense as you followed his steps. Though he only watched as you ascended and didn’t move.

“You know,” he sighed, setting the drinks down and crossing his arms. “I honestly didn’t think you’d muster up the balls to do it.”

With furrowed brows, you peered up at him, feeling slightly defensive at his odd word choice but unsure as to what he was referring to. “Do what?”

He shrugged, a knowing smirk on his lips, crossing his arms over his biceps. “Talk to Suguru.”

A chill trickled down your spine, your blood turning ice cold at the mention of his name from his best friend’s mouth. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you whispered, breaking eye contact and wrapping your fingers around the clutch of your purse with a tight grip, needing to ground yourself.

“Relax. I won’t say nothin’,” he chuckled, seeing the en garde yet all-telling look on your face. “But you’re crazy if you think half the team hasn’t noticed your less-than-subtle stalking.”

You cringed, realizing the situation you were now in. Should you run? Should you build a house on the peak of Mount Fuji and never return to society?

“I support ya.”

Squinting at the white haired boy who you were pretty sure was going to either tease you to hell or expose all of your secrets just seconds ago, you squeaked out a small “What?”

“Said I support ya,” he said, reaching down to the handles of the drink carriers and returning to full height. “You seem like a sweet girl. Nervous and socially challenged, but who isn’t around their crush?”

Shaking your head, you attempted to process a word out of his mouth and balled your fists. “Gojo, if you’re messing with me-“

“I’m not. Just don’t be so intimidated by him tonight. He’s a good guy,” and with that, Gojo pushed the wooden door open and headed inside, leaving you alone to suppress your racing heartbeat.

Had you just gotten the blessing of his best friend? And had he just told you that you were nothing less than discreet in your one-sided crush? Not to mention his comment of you being socially inept.

Fuck.

And you can’t dip now. Gojo had seen you. He was probably letting everyone know that you’d finally made it. Despite the sweat beading in your palms and your clammy skin, you had to show face.

Grinding your teeth, you pushed through the door and stepped inside.

Sigma Nu was a 3 story, brown and brick beauty. You’d never attended any of their parties as you were too nervous for such a social scene, so you knew you had to rely purely on instinct to find your way around.

It wasn’t too hard, though—stepping past the grand stairs to an ajar door that spilled a neon blue light. There was some laughter and conversation muffled from below, and you began descending the stairs.

There was a break in the wall from the left once you were around halfway down, peering your head to the side once your height leveled to it to take in the scene.

The basement setting was pretty spacious, nearly 20 people hanging around the walls, the pool table, a gaming console with a TV, and a couch midst it all. A hint of smoke and booze lingered in the air, making you scrunch your nose.

You recognized almost everyone—different members of the team, some partners of the players, and some were managers of the basketball team. Nearly everyone held a red solo cup, taking swigs and flashing tipsy grins to their friends.

You spotted a mess of white hair, bending over to set new bottles down onto a table in front of the couch.

And that’s when you spotted him. Suguru Geto, draped in the corner of the sectional with his hair sprawled onto his chest and back. He was sporting a black compression T-shirt, accompanied by a cotton black zip-up.

You padded over in your Mary Janes, feeling a little dolled up for the occasion as you picked a white and pink blouse, the least controversial amount of cleavage you could flash and muster yourself up to, and a jean mini-skirt.

He’d opted for grey sweats, and as he man spread, you suddenly felt that annoyingly perverted side of you peek through as you took a controversial look at his lap, eyeing the tent in the fabric to get a read on his size.

“Hey,” he exhaled, eyes scanning your figure, tone raspy and husky as if he was… was he stoned? You couldn’t tell.

Your cheeks flushed as your eyes darted to match his crimson ones (oh, he was definitely stoned), wondering if your previous staring had gone unnoticed. Surprise, it didn’t. A smirk tugged at his lips as he stood up, pushing Shoko, who was currently making out with her girlfriend, off of him and making his way towards you.

Squeezing both hands in front of you, you rocked on your heels as you gave him a soft smile.

“Let’s get you a drink,” he said, narrowing his eyes with a teasing smile and walking you to the kitchen. Of course, they had a kitchen down here, too.

There was an array of snacks and sweets covering the table, and you eyed a pizookie, cooing and reaching out before Geto clasped his hand around your wrist to halt you, firmly but gently.

“Careful. Those aren’t uh… regular pizookie’s.”

You stilled at the sudden touch, then turned to him and tilted your head, a confused expression that earned an endearing chuckle from him.

“They’re laced, sweetie.”

You opened your mouth, a small “oh” leaving your lips as you dropped your hand from his grasp. “Thanks. I’ve never tried those before.”

Crossing his arms, he leaned against the fridge. “No problem. I’m glad you made it here tonight, by the way.”

You ignored the way your heart fluttered at the comment. “I’m glad I’m here, too.”

He poked his head around the kitchen until he found a solo cup and some punch, letting you know there wasn’t any alcohol in it unless you’d wanted to spike your cup. You weren’t the biggest drinker, along with the fact that you were in charge of yourself tonight, so you allowed yourself to hydrate on the red beverage without any intoxicants.

He nodded as you sipped, a small hum leaving his lips as he never broke his gaze from you. “I wanna show you something.”

You glanced up, meeting his enticing, purple orbs as you nodded slowly. “Okay.”

Disposing of your empty cup, he led you out of the basement, not without earning a few looks from his friends, where the two of you made it to ground level and headed towards a shut door. Pushing it open, it revealed a large table with a few scattered papers and a desktop. There were a few shelves that lined the walls with what looked to be trophies and a couple finance books. Classic frat.

“It’s their office. I doubt they mind,” he said, plopping onto the desk chair and tapping away at the keyboard.

Stepping inside, you turned to shut the door and heard it click, wondering if that was the right move or if that was creepy before he called your name over to where he was sitting. “Look.”

He pointed to the screen, and you walked over, bending slightly to where his pointer finger was indicating as the light illuminated your face. “Battle of the bands…” You breathed out, eyes scanning the screen. “You entered a music competition?” You inquired, turning to look at him, seeing the excited grin on his lips.

“Yeah. Do I fit the whole Troy Bolton stereotype, or am I far off?”

You giggled, returning to your full height and brushing a strand out of your hair, looking down at him with a smile. “I think you need to add the word ‘grunge’ in front of his name.”

“Oh yeah?” He crossed his arms behind his head and reclined into the chair lazily. “Can’t tell if you’re making fun of me or if you think I’m more grunge than emotional,” he teased.

Shrugging, you placed your hands on the edge of the table and hopped up, sitting and laying your head on your shoulder, mulling over his statement. “You’ve never pegged me as the emotional type.”

Cocking his head, he had a difficult time concealing the humor tugging at his puzzled expression. “Never? What timeline are we talking here?”

A sputtered laugh left your lips, and you felt nervous at the question. How do you explain that you can only recall the same 3 expressions on his face—slight joy, exhaustion, and driven focus��for the past two years you’ve spent gawking at him despite having 2 total interactions with him, including right now?

“I’m messing with you,” he chuckled, then fed into your relieved expression. “But, I do feel that I must let you know something.”

“…Yeah?”

Training his focus on his thighs, he let a couple of beats pass before crossing his arms over his chest. In real time, you wondered if you were ovulating or if he had those many veins in his hands alone. “Nanami came over to me. ‘Fore you arrived. Told me to uh…” he rubbed his large hand against his jaw and bit his cheek before exhaling. “Take it easy on you.”

“What?” You gasped, an aghast look painting your face. Nanami said what???

“Yeah. Look, I can be… a little oblivious when it comes to things,” he started, and you held out a hand to stop him, wincing at how carefully he was picking his words.

“Stop. Stop stop stop. Please. If you’re planning on letting me down easy, just stop right there. I don’t know what Nanami told you, but I know I’m going to murder him later,” you gritted your teeth, feeling blood rush to your cheeks and warm them.

Geto stood up in shock, waving his hands next. “Woah, no. I wasn’t… that’s not what I was…” his eyes narrowed, the edges crinkling as he scanned your flushed face. You looked so pretty tonight. “Listen,” he began, taking a step closer to you until your knees were mere centimeters from his thighs, and the height he had on you was nothing short of intimidating.

“All my life, I’ve managed to fit the clueless basketball player stereotypes. And for all I care, people can continue to think that about me. But what I am not is dumb. I may have been too clueless to pick up on you around me, but I am not dumb enough to let you… get away.”

Words… words you didn’t even know how to respond with, caught in your throat. What the hell was Geto saying?

“Geto…”

“Suguru. Call me Suguru,” he interrupted jarringly, placing a large hand of his next to your thigh on the table.

You sat there with your hands now bunched in the hemline of your skirt, feeling your pulse quicken. There’s no way in hell that he was confessing what you thought he was.

“Since our talk in the gym this morning, I haven’t been able to get you out of my head. God, you’re so good with your words, it makes my head hurt.”

You let out a yelp at the groan he let out, then bit your lip.

“Sorry, I’m getting ahead of myself, aren’t I?” He chuckled, noticing your stillness and quietness.

“N-no… It’s okay… I just, I don’t know exactly what I did…” You whispered, hating the sound of your mousey voice.

“Wish you could see yourself from my eyes,” he breathed, reaching his hand up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Did you cast a spell on me?” He teased, a smirk tugging at his lips.

You quickly rattled your head, orbs wide, and watched as he leaned his head near yours. Fuck. Was he about to kiss you?

It was all happening so fast. Clamping your eyes shut, you waited for the moment you’d dreamt about for as long as you could remember. And waited. And waited… before peeking out of your left eye.

Suguru watched you quietly, a dazed look on his face.

“Is… something wrong?” You questioned, wondering why his lips weren’t on yours.

“No… just… why are you bracing yourself like that?” He sounded so genuine, you wanted to melt away. How do you explain that you’ve barely been kissed before? That you were mentally a whore but physically a virgin. “Is this your first kiss?”

“No!” You yelped, then covered your mouth with an unintentionally dramatic slap. “….Well, it’s my second.”

He backed up, his eyes widening slightly, then rubbing the back of his neck in what looked to be guilt. “Fuck. Sorry, I didn’t mean to… come onto you or anything…” he trailed off.

No… no no no. You didn’t want him to back off now. Not when your heart was thrumming with need, and a lot of nerves.

Reaching out, you gripped the sleeve of his zip-up and gave him pleading eyes. “Kiss me.”

His eyebrows raised, watching you with surprise that turned into admiration, before he inched closer.

You spread your legs, allowing him to slot his large frame between them, and kept your grip on his zip-up.

“Want me to kiss you, darling?”

If the butterflies in your stomach were fluttering before, they were having seizures now, from the insane octave drop in his voice. God, it made your core throb from the sultriness.

With a fevered intent, you nodded your head and tugged him gently.

That gave him all he needed to dip his head down, placing his lips onto yours and using his large hands to cup your jaw.

Up close, he smelled like wild cedar and jasmine… tasted like a spiced booze.

You tilted your head backwards, allowing for more access as he pushed himself closer, swiping his tongue against your lower lip. The feeling made you let out a whine, to which he grinned in response.

His lips moved with such skill against yours, and you were breathless in an attempt to keep up.

Sliding one hand to the nape of your neck, he used the other to rub your flushed cheek gently while he made love to you with his mouth. Now you tasted mint and something smoky. To Suguru, you tasted like your strawberry lip gloss that was smearing against his lips and the punch you’d just downed moments ago.

With one hand clutching his arm and hanging, your other hand found its way to his side and gripped at whatever fabric you could to pull him as close as possible. What you hadn’t intended on doing was feeling his crotch rub against your clothed core, a groan leaving both of your lips.

“Fuck,” he heaved, pulling away and a string of saliva hanging between the two of your plump lips. His eyes were lidded and low, a hungry look simmering beneath. “Don’t… don’t do that.”

You could hear the grit in his tone, only making you need him all that much more. Your fingers balled in the fabric of his clothing as your eyes nearly glossed over in lust, missing the weight of him against you. Tugging him closer, he dropped both hands to your sides and dipped his head into the crook of your neck with a sigh.

“I-I can’t… when you do that,” he sighed, inhaling your scent. He was afraid of taking things too far with you, with the knowledge that you were inexperienced.

You, on the other hand, couldn’t think of a better way to go about your first time—more than ready at the prospect. “I want you,” you shuddered, angling your head to the side to allow him to pepper more gentle kisses along the column of your throat. His hot breath fanned over the skin, nibbling gently, but not enough to mark you. He was nervous to be the first to mark you. “I know it’s my f-first, but I’m ready,” you whined, and it had Suguru bowing, his jaw clenching in need as blood rushed to his erection. You had no idea what you do to him.

With slow deliberation, you reached your hands up and to his shoulders, sliding his zip-up off to fall to the ground. He allowed it, breathing heavily into your neck. Tugging at the hemline of your blouse, he pulled it up and over your head and felt the wind knocked from his lungs at your bare chest.

Heat found itself creeping up from your neck to your cheeks, shy from his hungry stares.

“You’re so beautiful,” he sighed, tracing the bare skin of your shoulder. You were wearing your favorite bra and panties today—it wasn’t some fancy lingerie set but it made your bosom look swell.

“Thank you,” you whispered, avoiding his eyes as your hands flinched, wanting to cover yourself.

His hands found purchase in your bare thighs, kneading the skin softly with his thumb, pulling you closer to him and off the edge of the table. “You sure you want this?”

You nodded eagerly, biting your lip and craning your head up at him.

Narrowing his eyes, he cupped your cheeks and leaned in, his breath fanning over your lips as he kissed gently, then pulled away after a moment. “I need to hear you say it,” he whispered huskily.

“I…” you trailed off, humming a small whine before lifting your hips to rub yourself against him. “Sugu…. I need you inside.”

The growl that left his lips sent a fire blazing over your skin, the two of you tearing at each other’s clothes to rid yourselves of them, the pace not quick enough for how high-strung the sexual tension in the air was.

As he pulled his compression top up and off of his head, your eyes scanned over his muscular and toned tan figure, feeling that wet spot in your panties grow even more damp.

You trailed a finger along his collarbone, then down his chest, and laid a kiss against the bare skin. He tossed his head back, shivering at your delicate touch. “You’re such a fuckin’ tease, you know that?”

A giggle left your lips as you glanced up at him, then brought your hand down to his clothed erection, palming it. Fuck. He was so hard, and his size must be insane.

His back bowed forward, slamming a hand down onto the table as you slowly moved your palm up and down, a stifling gasp when you reached the clothed top and rubbed the slit.

“Y-you sure this is your f-first time?” He inhaled, fist balling against the oak desk.

You opened your mouth to assure him, but was promptly silenced as he pushed his lips against yours. Suguru moved with such ferocity this time that you could barely keep up with him. Your hands were slack above his shoulders, tugging at his Stygian locks that trickled onto you. They were silky smooth and you’d only dreamt of this moment, curling and twirling your fingers through them.

In your lustful haze, Suguru slipped his tongue between your parted lips, the wet muscle pushing down against your own and earning a whimper from the action. He grinned and glided it deeper, your saliva intermixed with his.

His fingers worked their way onto your back, unclasping your bra and tossing it to the side. Gripping one mound in his hand, he tweaked at the sensitive nipple, and you flinched, his cold touch sending shivering ripples through your body.

Kissing the seam of your love-bitten lips, he trailed his pecks down your throat again, this time leaving a trail of marks that made you look oh-so beautiful. They continued down to your bare breasts, where he took one mound between his lips and bit, causing you to tug his hair.

“You like that?” He muttered, licking a ring around your nipple.

You whined in response, feeling your body nearly turning to jelly. He noticed this, wrapping an arm around your waist and suctioning his lips around one breast, fondling the other to make sure she wasn’t lonely.

Twitching, he continued his ravage against your chest, flicking and sucking in ways that had you tossing your head back.

Pulling away, he peered down, eyes glinting in mischief and pride as he admired his work. "You're a fucking painting," he breathed out, brushing a hand through his hair as he panted.

A warmth bloomed in your chest, bringing your hands to your chest and glancing down to see the amount of hickies he managed to cover you with, your eyes widening.

Suguru chuckled at your reaction, stroking the top of your head, then meeting your eyes with a more serious look. "You absolutely sure you want to do this?"

God, how could someone be so hot when asking for consent?

"I do. Truly, I want my first to be with you," you said, love-sick eyes pleading him.

He scanned your pleading orbs, before reaching to grab his zip-up and digging in his pocket for a square piece of plastic.

Tugging at the hem of his sweatpants, he pulled them down along with his boxers, his shaft springing free.

Your jaw fell open, eyeing his massive length. It looked... angry. The veins running down his cock were prominent and bulging from the scruffy, base covered with onyx-colored hair that matched his head, up to his dark tip that was already leaking pre.

There was no way that girth was going to fit.

He chuckled at your reaction, putting the wrapper in his mouth and tearing it free with his canines. Tossing it to the side, he undid the plastic and pulled the rubber along his member, stroking it a few times to get snug.

"Don't worry, we'll go slow," he assured you, leaning closer and placing his hand on your nape, angling you to meet his eyes. "Just keep your eyes on me, angel."

You nodded eagerly, wrapping your arms around his shoulder to peck his lips, earning a soft grin from him.

Within moments, you felt his fingers tugging your panties to the side and his tip nudge against your drooling folds, gasping at the pressure. Slipping it up and down, he collected your juices, the scent of your arousal wafting through the air, before pushing into your tight hole.

“O-oh my god,” you winced, feeling his tip push right against that ring of resistance, your body stiffening from the harsh sting.

Suguru leaned to peck your jawline, then found that sweet spot against your throat to suck on, all while his hand groped your breast. “Breathe, sweetheart,” he murmured against your skin.

Releasing a shaky breath, your body began to relax as he inched himself deeper, the pain mixing with pleasure.

Your lashes fluttered as he twitched inside of you, feeling his veins rubbing against your syrupy walls. God, he was so massive it had your heart stuttering.

Lifting his head from your neck, he glanced down to where you two were joined and gripped your thighs, pulling you slowly down his length.

Your nails scratched down his broad shoulders, leaving red marks in your trail, his cock so deep inside you that you could practically feel him in your lungs.

“S’ too much,” you whimpered out, feeling tears trickle from the seam of your lids.

Suguru brought a hand to your cheek and wiped it with the pad of his thumb, then leaned down to kiss your eyes as he stilled his movements entirely, allowing you a moment to adjust.

The heaving of your chest slowed, and soon you began to feel that need clawing away at you, head rolling around in a daze.

"Ready?" He questioned in a whispering tone, kneading your thigh and you could feel every touch of his now leaving a blaze of heat in it's path.

Without a word, you rejoined your lips with his and could practically taste the essence of Suguru, your wet arousal leaking from you as he picked up a steady pace.

Gripping the underside of your thighs, he hoisted you up, and clutched the back of your head. You let out a yelp, feeling as he gripped your body taut against his as you hovered in the air before he pushed you against the nearest wall.

Without wasting a moment, Suguru began bucking his hips up and into you. You could feel your mouth watering lazily, a fucked-out grin on your face as the desire washed over you.

"Fuckin' wet," Suguru slurred, almost angrily, as if he couldn't fuck you fast enough, splitting you on his length.

Babbles and whines left your lips that made no coherent sense, enough to assure Suguru that he was making your first time worthwhile.

Obscene squelches resonated in the room with each thrust into you, the curve of his shaft finding that sweet spot that had you screaming in his mouth.

Bringing a hand up to muffle the noise, a sheepish smile made it's way to his perspired face. "Like that?" He cooed, slamming into you and you could feel his veins dragging along your gummy walls even through that rubber covering.

"Fuck! S'too... too good," you yelped out, slurred and smothered by his hand, bringing your bleary gaze down to him. Fuck. He was so devastatingly beautiful with his violet, teary eyes and perfectly messy hair.

It felt all too much like a dream. That the one and only Suguru Geto was plowing into you, popping your cherry.

Your ragged gasps were music to his ears, each rut against your cervix definitely bruising you.

His calloused fingers indented your thigh, squeezing and gripping every inch as you slid up and down the wall, holding yourself up by his massive shoulders and wrapping your free leg around his waist.

“Fuckin’ made for me,” he groaned out, feeling his member twitch as it dragged along your walls. Each thrust had your whines increasing in volume, the beast of a man more than satisfied to feel the drool pooling in his palm held against your mouth. Your sounds were driving him feral, pushing him past the point of lust and into the realm of consuming every ounce of you that you could give him.

You were so pliant, so malleable in his arms, he feared that he could break you. It’s unfair he couldn’t be taking you raw, but he hoped it’d be something in the future for the two of you.

"You close?" He asked, and you nodded eagerly, eyes shutting from the overstimulation. That coil wrapped tighter and tighter into a knot in your gut, begging to be undone.

There was a a violating display where the two of you were connected, your cream creating a ring round the base of his cock and coating his dark drapes.

Suguru felt himself choking on his groans, your pussy sucking him in with each thrust that had him release a whimper with his head tossed back. "B-baby... fuckin' ngh... you're fucking milkin' me," he whined out, voice nearly pitched up.

His pace was growing sloppy and slow, practically dragging you down the wall to push himself deeper and deeper.

"Sugu!" You screamed out into his hand, a sudden flash of hot white engulfing you to the point your vision blacked out and your ears began to ring.

Literal seconds after, Suguru let out a hoarse groan, shoving himself as deep as possible before releasing, his limbs contracting as he stilled.

Your head dropped lazily to his shoulder, attempting to catch your breath as he pulled out, letting you ground yourself with the help of his guidance and standing on your two feet.

Peering up, you met the gaze of the guy who just took your first. "H-how was that?" You chuckled, wobbling to the desk chair.

In all honesty, Suguru was at a loss for words. No woman he's ever been with made him... whine. He was hoping the flush on his cheeks could be mistaken for his exertion rather than exposing him for being flustered.

Sliding back into his boxers and sweats, he dragged a hand through his hair and eyed you. God, your afterglow was something else.

Leaning against the table, he crossed his hands over his bare chest and bit his lip in thought. "Sure that was your first time?"

You choked on the waterbottle he handed you, nearly spitting it all over him. "Yeah, can’t believe you’re asking me again" you chuckled, wiping your damp cheek with the back of your hand. "Did I surprise you?"

Suguru let out a low chuckle, pushing off the table and heading towards the door. "I'll be right back."

He disappeared around the corner, and it was the first time you felt like you could take a deep breath, slumping in your chair and eyes widening.

Who did you bless in a past life to have sex with THE Suguru Geto?

Should you do cartwheels around the room right now? Should you record the aftermath and write in your journal this second to ensure the entry didn’t miss a single detail so you could relieve this moment every night for the rest of your life?

…Hold on, where did he go?

Your eyes flickered to the ajar door, grabbing your bra and blouse and sliding them back on.

Damn it. Your heart thrummed in your ears, wondering if you were a bad partner and let him down. Was he coming back? Or was that his escape plan?

Did he even come? Where did he put the condom?

Suguru Geto wasn't an asshole... no. You assured yourself, nodding your head as you limply paced around the room with your fingernail in your mouth.

But how well did you really know him? All of your infatuation with him was solely surface—frankly, you knew almost nothing personal about the guy.

A couple of knocks were heard on the door, your nervous expression meeting the man who leaned casually on the doorframe, a white rag in hand.

"Didn't think I just fuck and dash, did you?" The man in question quirked cooly, walking over to you.

The relieved sigh that left your lips didn’t go unnoticed. Your mouth hung open in defense, but you were truly at a loss for words. You, in fact, did think he fucked and dashed on you.

He noticed your hesitation, leaning down and scooping you up bridal style swiftly. A quiet gasp left your lips, peering up at him.

"You wound me, pretty," he whispered, striding over to the desk chair and setting you down.

Your heart stammered as you watched him kneel down and bring the warm, damp rag to your bare thighs to clean you up, then up to your sex.

The entire scene was a little too intimate for your liking, as you knew that after this, there was no way in hell you could possibly get over Suguru Geto. You attempted to mask how ticklish you were throughout the whole thing. Or maybe you were just giddy?

How could he be such a gentleman?

"I wanna ask you something," he whispered, eyes trained on the hem of your skirt as he adjusted it to cover you up.

You nodded and he peered up at you, cocking his head slightly.

"Would you like to come to my game tomorrow night?"

The scrunch of your brows had him chuckling. "I know you're gonna be there as the water girl but... I mean as my date. Officially."

Your hands gripped the silk fabric at the bottom of your top, your mouth hanging open.

What? Had you died and been reborn? Is this heaven?

"C-could you elaborate on what you mea-"

"I like you," he interrupted, taking your hand in his. "I know it's like, way too fucking early for this as our first conversation was literally this morning and I just fucked you at a party," he breathed out, eyes darting between yours as he rambled. "But, I've never met a girl quite like you. And I'd be an idiot not to chase after you."

The upward tug of your lips didn't go unnoticed by Suguru, who matched your expression.

"I'd love to, Suguru."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

—

"Hustle! Run the floor!"

Coach Yaga roared down the court, clapping his hands and throwing them around as he threw out plays, curses entwined in each sentence.

Suguru, clad in his jersey, was nodding at Gojo, open for a pass and took the chance regardless, landing a 3-point shot, and tossing a smug grin to his teammate.

And there you were, in all your glory, manning the water station.

Again, the frantic nature of filling up water cup after water cup was practically tradition. But this time, you knew you had an audience so it wasn't easy to hide the trembling of your hands.

You were Suguru Geto’s fucking date to his homecoming basketball game. Not to mention, he invited you to his battle of the bands competition right before the game.

This wasn't a scenario you could've dreamt up even two days ago.

Nanami and Shoko had been blowing up your phone ever since the two of you left the party last night, and you noticed the sheepish glances Gojo passed you every couple minutes.

Suguru wasn't the most subtle guy in the world, but he didn't care. Every shot he made, he glanced in your direction to check if you saw him. Sometimes you'd be jumping up and down, waving your arms frantically, and other times you'd be cleaning up a spill to avoid being yelled at by the referee.

God, you were so cute. He honestly doesn't know what got into him, asking you out after knowing you for a day.

But there was something about you, something that drew him in like a magnet, that made the oblivious!suguru not want to let you go.

tags: @tinydonkeysforlife @teenbreakup

[sttoru]

·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. your stressed lover comes home from a long day of work and finds you asleep. he can’t help but wake you up in a rather special way.

wc. 1.6k total

tags. dom!jjk men x sub!female reader (gojo, toji, sukuna). smut. general warnings: dark content — somnophilia (consensual). size difference because im self indulgent ; reader gets referred to as small. ehm they’re kinda depicted as perverts. rest of the warnings are given before each character.

GOJO SATORU; cw. cunnilingus. fingering. he’s a bit whiny. nicknames used ‘princess, sweets’. he cums untouched lol.

“mm, fuck. look at my sweet princess,” satoru sighs under his breath. he’s welcomed home by the sight of you sleeping peacefully on the bed, your hips lifted a bit as you rest on your stomach.

satoru’s voice is shaky as he mutters something to himself. he carefully sits on the edge of the bed, trembling fingers reaching out to trace the shape of your plump ass. he can’t not touch you—especially when you present yourself so nicely to him.

it isn’t long before his fingers dip under the material of your shorts. satoru gauges your reaction to his advances and notices the corners of your lips twitching. a sign you’re unconsciously feeling his warm touch.

“fuckfuckfuck. ‘m sorry, princess — i have to.”

satoru gives up any self-control that he had left. he doesn’t waste any time pulling down your shorts and panties to your knees. his already erect cock twitches in his pants at the beautiful scene; your wet cunt in all its glory.

he clenches his fists, desperately trying not to do anything. that determination does not last long.

in just a second, satoru’s already lapping up your juices, his hands firmly holding your hips still. his nails dig into your flesh and he moans once he feels your body instinctively pushing back against his mouth.

“mm, s’rry,” the sorcerer whines in a muffled voice. he knows you’re awake by now—judging purely by the increase of your little moans of pleasure. his tongue doesn’t stop moving between your spread folds, tasting you until your thighs are spasming.

you’re confused when you’ve awoken to a tingly sensation between your legs, though you quickly put two and two together. you’re too lazy to comment on satoru’s sudden actions, only babbling a soft ‘welcome home’ between whimpers.

satoru’s breath hitches the moment you tell him those words. those sweet words. like you don’t mind that he’s dragged you out of your slumber this way. it’s such a turn on—your acceptance to what he’s doing.

“yeah? oh god,” satoru’s nose bumps against your slit each time he moves his jaw, lewdly slurping the fluid your pussy produces. he can feel his dick throbbing against his pants, begging to be released, “ngh, can’t—gonna cum, sweets.”

your lover’s desperate whines make your fingers curl around the bedsheets. the sole image of him cumming in his pants just from eating you out pushes you over the edge as well.

you reach your climax at the same time. satoru lolls his tongue out to catch your juices, moaning loudly against your puffy folds as he feels it trickling into his mouth. he can feel a wet spot forming on the fabric of his boxers, “shit.”

the white-haired man removes himself from behind you, licking his lips for any residue. you lazily look over your shoulder at him with glazed over eyes. his big hands are already working on his belt and zipper.

satoru shows you the dark spot in his underwear and pouts, “ah, look what you’ve done to me, princess—made a mess out of my favourite boxers b’cause of you.”

FUSHIGURO TOJI; cw. tiny hint of implied age gap (reader early 20’s, toji early 30’s). p in v -> unprotected. spooning position. reader gets called ‘little girl, slut, whore’. degradation / objectification.

toji kicks his shoes off and makes a beeline towards his bedroom. he’s in a shitty mood after he had met up with a rude client. despite that, his lips curl up into a faint smile the moment he sees you laying on his bed.

“heh, there’s my little girl,” his voice is raspy, hoarse and utterly exhausted. the older man climbs under the covers and wraps his strong arms around your small figure. he nuzzles his nose into your hair, breathing in the nice smell of your shampoo.

toji wouldn’t be him if his hands didn’t wander all over your skin. his rough palms squeeze everywhere and anywhere—enjoying the feeling of your soft flesh in them. you subconsciously react to his touches by pushing your body back against his.

“. .do not,” toji hisses like you can hear him. he was already half hard on his way home as the thoughts of you clouded his mind, but now that he’s actually with you, he’s fully aroused. especially with your ass pushing back at his aching bulge.

he’s too lazy to get up and get himself off in the shower. thus, he starts off by humping the fat of your ass. the friction isn’t enough for the assassin and therefore he switches to the real thing.

“such a slutty fuckin’ thing. can’t keep my hands off ya,” toji groans into your ear, half hoping you’d hear all the dirty things he’s calling you. your pants are pulled down and your panties are pushed to the side—making way for his fat cock to drill into you.

your impatient lover adjusts your legs so he could have easier access to your tight cunt. the slow strokes inside you make you squirm and tighten up around his throbbing erection. this only riles toji up more.

“hah, y’can feel it even in y’r sleep, can’t you? my cock stretching your tight pussy out—my pussy,” toji corrects himself with a low moan. his warm breath hits the nape of your neck, his hands fondling you whilst he thrusts aggressively.

he doesn’t care if you wake up or not. he’s going to use your delicious body to relieve himself. you gave him the green light when he asked you if he could fuck you in your sleep when he needs it. so, there’s no reason to stop now.

you eventually jolt awake once the continuous stimulation become too much. if it wasn’t for toji’s hand on your mouth, you’d have woken up the neighbours with your loud and lewd moans.

toji scoffs. he keeps a tight grip on your face and thigh, not stopping the rough pounding he’s giving you. he sees your eyes roll back from the unexpected pleasure and he snickers.

his lips connect with yours, muffling your moans that way;

“hah, seems like you needed this as much as i did—waking up ‘n already moaning like a whore. missed me that much, huh?”

SUKUNA RYOMEN; cw. true form!sukuna. has two cocks woops. masturbation (m). turns into blowjob. hairpulling. reader gets called ‘brat’.

sukuna returns to his chambers. finally, after dealing with some sorcerers that’ve had challenged him for a battle. he’s tense, sweaty and obviously in need to blow off some steam. he knows just where to get said relief.

sukuna’s red eyes instantly spot your sleeping form on the middle of his kingsized bed. his favourite little human—resting without a care in the world. the innocent sight is one that sets his loins on fire.

“oi, brat,” the male speaks up as he sits on his side of the bed. the mattress dips to one side due to his huge form, causing your small body to automatically manoeuvre his way. you don’t seem to stir nor wake.

you’ve gotten used to sukuna’s demanding voice to the point that it doesn’t scare you anymore. he smacks his lips in frustration. guess he’ll take care of his problem himself for now.

low grunts fill the spacious room—sukuna’s head lolls back against the headboard whilst two of his hands move swiftly on his now exposed cocks. his sharp eyes are focused on your body, shamelessly checking you out. from the cleavage of your breasts, your clothed cunt to your perfect parted lips; all of you is turning him on.

“fuck, can’t believe this. .” sukuna curses under his breath. he can’t believe how weak he is for you. how his cocks throb and leak drops of pre-cum from just the sight of you sleeping. fully clothed at that.

whilst one set of his hands is busy touching himself, the other reaches out to grope your body. one hand on your chest and one on your ass. of course, sukuna doesn’t pass on the opportunity of smacking the soft flesh.

“i said get up,” sukuna clicks his tongue and tries to wake you again. this time you do actually wake up. a short, inaudible whine leaving your lips. you take a few seconds to process the view in front of you; your lover with both his thick cocks out, pre-cum making the lengths glimmer under the light of the lamp.

it got you horny. immediately. you slowly crawl over between his legs, like you know just what to do. sukuna raises an eyebrow—surprised by your lack of questioning. he’s amused at how fast you took the hint.

“that’s it. you’re learning fast,” sukuna sighs deeply the moment your lips wrap around his upper dick. your small hand jerks off the lower one. both stimulations at once makes the man beneath you grunt in satisfaction.

you still are and look extremely drowsy, though your devotion to sukuna knows no bounds. even in your half-asleep state. the king of curses pats your head—a surprisingly appreciative and loving gesture that he rarely does.

you bob your head carefully, not wanting to gag too much. however, the pace you set is too slow for sukuna who’s waited way too long to fuck you. in any way.

he bucks his hips—thrusting upwards into your hot mouth. his strong hands yank at your hair, keeping you in place as he hears your muffled whimpers of protest. not that he cares; you choking on his fat cock only adds to his pleasure.

“keep it up like that. fuck, where do you want me to cum? in your little mouth? yeahh, you’d like that huh, filthy girl. you’d have to work harder for it if you’re so desperate.”

REBLOG TO SUPPORT YOUR FAVORITE CREATORS !!

[minranghae]

Taste | 18+

》 pairing: c.san x f!reader

》 genre: fluff, smut, angst if you squint really hard

》 warnings: friend’s brother!san, female reader, general silliness, stubborn reader, san loves to tease, hes a sweetie too ofc, smut, piv, oral (f. receiving), fingering, pet names (angel, baby, etc.), coworkers, san bites reader one (1) time, barely proofread, unprotected, lmk if i missed any

》 wc: 5.2k

》 hello! i am back from the dead with my second fic and second installment in the senses series. i do apologize that this took so long, but i do plan on releasing more stuff soon-ish. i'm working on a longer series, so who knows what'll hapen lol. finally, i just want to say thank you for reading and i hope you enjoy this!

 “God, I really can’t stand you, San! Stop following me, pervert!”

“Yeah, whatever, just get in so we can talk,” he yells to you with his arm hanging out the window of his car, an annoyed, yet amused smirk covering his face.

“No way!” You yell over your shoulder, too embarrassed to face him both physically and figuratively. 

Really, how could you? Not after you found him with your diary in his hands, reading it like it was his favorite novel. At first, you tried to convince yourself that he didn’t see those pages, but the blush on his cheeks told you otherwise. 

And that’s why you’re here: running away from San in the middle of the night.

“I’ll make you a milkshake,” San coos from the car, causing you to turn your head in interest, “You know you love ‘em,” he offers, as if you’re a dog and he’s holding a treat in front of your face. 

And god damn it, it works.

“Fine, but I’m not talking to you until I get one,” you say, opening the car door and climbing in.

“You’re talking to me now,” he quips, earning a look from you that he thinks would’ve killed him if it had the ability.

“Alright, tough crowd,” he murmurs to himself with a dry laugh, hoping to earn a giggle- or at least a smile- from you, but to no avail.

The whole situation was so embarrassing. And degrading, and stupid, and embarrassing-

“Stop thinking so much,” he swats at your arm playfully, noticing the clear look of discomfort and sheer, unabashed embarrassment on your face, “you don’t even know what I have to say yet.” 

You answer him with a small hum, deciding against giving him a verbal response, because no matter how much you’d like to curl up in a hole and die, you’re still as stubborn as the day San met you. 

You officially met him the first day you worked at the diner. Your best friend’s family had owned it since the old owners left, leaving the significantly smaller family of four looking for new employees. College debt had already begun sneaking its way into the back of your mind, and Eunbi needed to work with someone other than her nagging parents or annoying older brother. It was the perfect opportunity for you.

“C’mon! Just try it!” The boy working with you begged.

“I already told you, I have trauma with milkshakes!”

San laughed to himself, trying to hide the amusement evident on his face.

“Look, I’m sorry you found a hair in your milkshake however long ago, but I can assure you that my milkshake is hairless,” he held his little finger up to you, “pinky promise.”

Rolling your eyes, you locked your pinky with his. Your hands lingered together for a moment too long, until San pulled his away to push the drink closer to you.

“San, you know, I’m not really a huge fan of chocolate-” 

“Didn’t you and Eunbi make chocolate cupcakes for your birthday though?”

You freeze, cheeks heating up at his question, unsure if it was the fact that he’d caught you in a lie or that he knew and remembered what you and Eunbi had done for your birthday bringing the blush to your face. Attempting to hide your embarrassment, you shot him a small smirk, gently pursing your lips.

“‘Gotcha there, honey.”

Ever since that day, San always had a milkshake waiting for you at the end of each shift. And maybe it was that kindness that made you blush, or maybe it was the fact that his eyes smiled along with his lips every time he greeted you. It could’ve been the way he always knew how to make you giggle, but whatever it was, it was clear that you’d fallen for San.

Which is weird. Weird because he’s older than you, he’s your coworker, he’s out of your league, and worst of all: he’s Eunbi’s brother.

Really? How cliche is that? It’s not even like you could tell Eunbi about it. That would’ve made everything so much worse. It’s embarrassing enough to be so head over heels for a guy who just sees you as his little sister’s best friend, but to have people know about it too? There’d be no coming back from that.

And that’s exactly why you decided to start keeping a diary, or mindful journaling as you called it. That sounded better than keeping a diary.

You originally started it to confess some of your feelings about San. You wrote how embarrassed you were to have a crush on him. You wrote about the milkshakes he made you and the times he defended you against angry customers. You wrote about how stressed you felt about life in general. Your worries, your fears, the moments of your days that you wanted to forget, but your mind wouldn’t let you. You wrote about anything you couldn’t confess to another person. 

On particularly late nights full of hopeless pining and horny desperation, you’d write about your fantasies, some involving random celebrities or TV characters, but most involving San. 

It was nothing too in depth, it was more about how much you wanted just a taste of him. You knew you could never have him for good, but if you could just feel his strong arms around you or his lips on your skin just once, maybe that’d be good enough. Just a little taste. It felt dirty thinking about him in that sort of way, but who would see it anyways? 

Little did you know, San himself would.

It had slipped out of your bag. And being the kind, and relatively organized coworker he is, San picked it up to put it back in your bag for you. The way it landed on the floor, though, left it open on its spine with its pages just begging to be read. 

He wasn’t going to read it. That would be an invasion of privacy, and San wasn’t that kind of guy. He wouldn’t do that.

But when he picked it up, he couldn’t help but notice his name on the page. And unfortunately, as it does most of us, curiosity got the best of him. 

San tried to stop himself, he really did. But, knowing just how eager you were for him put his head in a spin. He just couldn't help but picture you underneath him, with that adorable blush and shy smile that only appears when he starts teasing you. He wanted so badly to hear how you whimper, to feel how warm you are, to see how sweet you taste. He had a feeling you liked him, but he never would've guessed you reciprocated the feeling so strongly.

He saw this as more of an opportunity for you two. He wasn’t going to tell you what he’d seen; he’d just confess to you one night. And maybe it’d have to be secret for a bit, but eventually you could be his, and he wanted nothing more than that.

No big deal.

But, as soon as he heard a small gasp from the doorway and looked up to see your eyes welling with tears, he knew that plan was well fucked. 

San always thought you were pretty. From the moment Eunbi first brought you over, he couldn’t help but notice your expressive eyes and beautiful hair. But what he liked most was that shining smile you had. And seeing that he’d wiped it from your face as soon as you walked in, he just had to chase you.

And so, as you sat across from him in a booth in the dimly lit diner, he studied your face: the embarrassed blush and sweaty gleam sheening your forehead, your pouty lips wrapped around the straw of a chocolate milkshake as your eyebrows furrowed.

Even your beauty was stubborn.

He began softly, so as not to scare you, his fingers drumming against the table in a gentle rhythm, “So… do you like the milkshake?”

You looked up at him, an eyebrow quirked, “Yeah, it’s good.”

San pushed out a sigh at your icy reply, settling back in his seat as he let his palm fall flat against the table. He knew what he wanted to say, he just couldn’t find the words. You broke the silence a moment later.

“Look, we can both pretend like you saw absolutely nothing at all and I’ll ask to work different times of the day so we won’t even have to see each other. I’m not weird, I promise, I just-”

“Shh,” he cooed, grabbing one of your hands, his thumb rubbing soothing circles into the back of it, “you didn’t even let me talk yet.”

San’s gaze scanned your pretty face for a moment, falling onto those eyes and lips he adored. His heart pounded against the back of his ribs, and yet, you seemed so nervous. Had he read it wrong?

“Did you mean it? What you wrote?” he asked, his voice holding a subtle tone of insecurity. His gaze fell to the table where your hands met, his grip tightening just slightly.

You looked up at him, your wide eyes sweeping over his strong face and your breath picking up. Of course you meant it, but did he want you to mean it? 

“Why are you asking that?” you mumble, pulling your hand from his shyly. Your entire face was tinged pink from embarrassment and guilt, so anxious. San couldn’t stand it.

He made an effort to grab your hand again, his other hand lifting your chin gently so you’d look at him. He shook your head a little, trying to bring out a tiny smile again. 

“You said you needed my face between your thighs…”

Your body went rigid. Out of all the entries, he just had to read that one? You remember writing it after watching him open something with his teeth one day, his jaw flexing as he used his teeth to rip open the plastic packet. Unfortunately, your mind was clouded by unsavory thoughts later that night, and so, into the journal those fantasies went. 

“I’m just saying, I’ve needed a taste for a while now, too. Just give me a chance. Don’t run, please,” he pleaded softly, his grip tightening on your hand ever so slightly. He gave you that look, the one where his eyebrows would furrow so gently and his eyes gleamed softly, a desperation hidden in them. San wasn’t one to beg, but he couldn’t let you think he didn’t like you.

To his surprise, the confession didn’t make you smile. Instead, you felt your eyes well up with tears and a heavy weight lift off your shoulders. Slowly, you snaked around the table to San’s side of the booth, immediately wrapping your arms around one of his as you cried into his shoulder. He received you warmly, his free hand coming up to pat your head softly with sweet coos leaving his mouth, calming and affectionate.

“I thought you were gonna hate me forever, Sannie. I’m so sorry,” you sobbed, hiccuping softly, no even noticing your snot blotting San’s shirt. Such a mess.

San let out a breathy laugh, guiding your face up and off of his shoulder. He grabbed a napkin from the holder at the end of the table and wiped your nose with it gently, an affectionate air about him. He’d never seen you so emotional, and though his heart constricted seeing your tears, he was just happy to be the one taking care of you: his precious one. In a way, seeing you so worked up over something he saw as no big deal was endearing. Then again, almost everything about you was endearing to San. 

He smiled down at you after wiping your nose, mumbling, “Pretty girl.” You could feel your cheeks go red instantly, feeling like it was your first time having a crush all over again. 

He continued, his deep voice soft and sweet suddenly, “I could never hate you. Never, never,” he shook his head a bit, leaning in so that your foreheads were pressed together, “what I read only surprised me, but it would never make me hate you. So, don’t apologize for liking me. I like you, too.”

You swore your heart skipped a beat as he said that. In fact, it seemed like cardiac arrest would be the next step if he didn’t stop looking at you with those soft eyes.

“Never knew you had such a dirty mind,” he teased, rubbing your arm with his free hand gently.

And just like that, your eyebrows furrowed again and you hit his arm gently, too embarrassed to be sappy for long.

“Stop that! It’s not good to hold in all your thoughts, you know. You should write your feelings down,” you scolded, face bright red and lips pouting. San took the scolding at first, but it wasn’t much use. He was too focused on how cute your face looked all scrunched up. 

And, he couldn’t deny it. Being scolded was pretty hot.

“There you go again,” San interrupted, sighing playfully. He couldn’t help but tease. You stopped mid-sentence, unsure of what you were even scolding him about now.

“Hm? What?” you asked softly, a little pout remaining on your lips.

San giggled a little, his eyes squeezing shut as he threw his head back. It was just too much fun for him. He leaned in closer to your face, close enough that your noses nearly met in the middle, whispering, “You’re too busy being angry to let me give you a taste of me.”

That cocky bastard. Cocky, and teasing, and sexy…

Your eyebrows quirked up and your cheeks burned even hotter as he leaned in closer, his mouth just next to your ear. 

“That’s what you wanted, right? What you wrote in your diary… ahem, journal,” he whispered, need dripping from his words. 

And yet, you were too embarrassed to speak. Or, maybe flustered was the right word. Either way, your brain didn’t quite work when San teased you normally, and especially not when his hands traveled to your waist, thumbs pressing into you gently.

“W-well, yes, but it was just a fantasy! I was just imagining! If you read more, you’d see I wrote about celebrities also…” you stammered, your hands searching for a place to rest along with your eyes. 

“Oh, so you’re saying I’m not special?” San asked, biting his lip to hold back a cocky smile.

You gasped a little, hands instinctively finding San’s firm chest, “No, no! I just meant, just,” you panicked a bit, somehow losing your words yet again as San put his hands over yours.

“So, I am special? Am I special enough to have a taste of you?” San asked softly, still teasing, though there was an undercurrent of seriousness in his voice, something like an invitation.

“I don’t know if it’s a good idea, Sannie… What would Eunbi think?” You ask softly, eyes round and full of worry. Unintentionally, you leaned further into San’s chest, prompting him to pull you into a hug. He cradled the back of your head, petting your hair softly.

“She doesn’t have to know yet. And you can always say no, baby. I know I tease you a lot, but it’s just because you’re so cute when you’re worked up. We can take things slow if you want. It’s just that journal entry… it made me…” San trailed off towards the end, his own cheeks getting pink now.

Softly, you reached up and ran your fingers through San’s hair, finally offering him a big smile, “Look at you blushing now.”

San blew a bit of air out of his nose, suppressing a shy laugh. “How couldn’t I blush? The thought of you wanting me that way…” He trailed off again, voice high and squeaky now that he was being teased. He pulled you close and buried his face in your neck, letting his lips place a soft kiss before he continued.

“I want to hear you say it, angel. Tell me I’m special and it’s more than just a fantasy. Tell me how you want me,” he mumbled into your neck, using every ounce of self restraint to stop himself from kissing it again.

And, in that moment, months of yearning for, pining over, and wanting San in every way came back to you. Your heart ached a bit, and so did the space between your legs. Everything you had imagined and told yourself was just a dream was coming true. It was true that it would be difficult to hide this whole thing considering Eunbi could read you like a book, but you couldn’t let this opportunity go.

“God, San, I want you in every way possible,” you breathed out, tilting your head back to give him better access to your neck. As soon as you did, he latched on to it, sucking a small bruise into it. You trembled a little, involuntarily letting a tiny whimper cross your lips as you whispered, “But I really need you to fuck me right now.”

“That’s all I need to hear, baby. Here,” he murmured, detaching himself from you quickly. He swiftly switched spots with you, leaving the booth seat and pulling you to the edge of it. He kneeled in front of you, one hand on your thigh and the other gripping the table still. Pushing the table towards the other side of the booth, San ran his hands up and down your thighs, eyes pleading and lust filled. “It’s alright if I taste you?”

“Please, need it so bad, Sannie,” you pleaded as he slowly undid your jeans, pulling them off your legs along with your panties in one fatal swoop. You were already dripping onto the seat and he hadn’t even touched you yet. 

San pressed gentle kisses up your bare thighs, using a thumb to rub gentle circles into your clit. You gripped the top of the seat, already feeling a pulsing need in your heat as San’s mouth inched closer to it. His breath tickled the area, making your squirm, but what was worse was the look in his eyes. He stopped just in front of your cunt and looked up at you with dark, lustful eyes. In that moment, you understood San wanted this just as much as you did.

It was true. San couldn’t even recount the amount of times he pumped his fist in bed or in the shower thinking about you and your sweet pussy. And as much as it made him blush just thinking about it, he wanted nothing more in life than to bury his face in between your thighs some days, making you squirm and hearing what noises he could pull out of you. He wanted to have you, to know you on a deeper level. And what was more intimate than knowing the way a person tastes?

“Pretty,” he murmured into his direct line to heaven, his nose nudging your clit 

gently. A long, hot stripe was licked up your pussy, making you twitch expectantly. Instantly, your mind began to grow foggy and your hips bucked, San whispering, “It’s alright, just relax, baby.”

And so, you did. You let your torso fall all the way back against the booth seat and your fingers tangle in his hair, a soft grunt leaving him as he dove in deeper. His tongue swirled around your entrance, dipping inside every once in a while as a quiet hum vibrated against you. He kept up his agonizingly slow pace on your clit with his thumb, savoring that way you tasted on his tongue.

Soon, though, San needed more of you. He needed to see you squirm more, hear you moan just for him. He pulled you even closer to the edge of the booth, another grunt leaving him as he had to pull his face away for a moment. He hoisted your legs up onto his broad shoulders, instantly attaching his lips to your clit, kissing it softly before sucking it. 

A thick finger found its way inside of you, knuckle deep and wriggling. You squirmed, unable to hold back your noises. Even with just one finger, he filled you up better than you’d ever been before. He added a second finger a moment later, getting familiar with your body inside and out. Scissoring his fingers, he stretched your pussy out, mumbling something about how perfect it was.

“Fuck, San, even your fingers are big,” you slurred, back arching up in the air. San answered with another hum against your pussy, one you could tell was a shy giggle. He curled his fingers, letting his lips pulse around your clit now that he could tell you would finish soon. He slowed his pace down for a second, lifting his head to look up at you.

“You wanna cum? Want Sannie to make you cum?” He asked with a condescending pout, mirroring the one on your own lips. You nodded fervently, but it wasn’t enough for San.

“Gotta hear you say it, angel,” He furthered, eyes darkening as he held back another sly smile. You whined, kicking your legs gently. San tutted, swatting your thigh gently, “Don’t be so stubborn. Just tell Sannie.”

“Please, San, make me cum. Wanna cum all over your tongue,” you relented, hips bucking back up towards San’s face, nudging his chin against your clit. San cooed gently before diving back in. Lapping at your hole, he circled your clit relentlessly with his thumb. He wasn’t going to let you cum anywhere but his tongue.

It didn’t take long for you to do just what you’d asked for. Suddenly, your entire body began to tingle, radiating from the place between your thighs. Your toes curled and your knees tried to squeeze together, locking San’s head in place so that he could lap up every last bit of your essence that was flowing out of you. He made sure he got every last bit, taking his time to lick and kiss every last part of your slick, throbbing cunt.

Eventually, he pried your legs open and helped you sit up, smiling hard at your flushed out face. He swiped his chin with his thumb, bringing it up to his lips before licking off that last bit of you. He sighed, “Could live in that little hole forever, baby.”

You blushed gently, turning away from him shyly, prompting him to sit next to you. He grabbed you by your waist, pulling you onto his lap so your back was flush against his chest. “Hey, you can’t get all shy on me now. Where’s the feisty girl I know, hm?”

“How could I be mean after you just did that to me,” you pouted, making San laugh. 

“You’re always mean to me,” he told you dramatically, grabbing your chin and turning your face towards his. Carefully, he grinded his hips up so that you could feel how hard he was. And he was. Just the taste of you had San throbbing, and the only reason he let you cum so quickly was so that he didn’t cum in his own pants. 

You gasped softly, feeling San’s cock pulsing against your ass, then again when his thick fingers began circling your clit again. He rested his chin on your shoulder, speaking so softly into your ear, “And what’s really mean is how you made me so hard, I almost came from how good you tasted. You wouldn’t leave me like this, right, baby?”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes and turning around in San’s lap. His hands went straight to your ass, cupping it and pulling you down to grind against the tent in his pants. Your eyebrows furrowed gently as your hips moved back and forth on him, concentrated huffs falling from your tongue.

“Greedy girl,” he teased, nudging your jaw with the side of his head gently, “you want my cock in you?”

You nodded, pouting at him, “Please, San. Need you in me bad.”

San just laughed, guiding your hands to unzip his pants. He lowered his voice, looking down at where your crotches met, “Alright, you can have it. But, you gotta do the work now. You really tired me out there before.”

You whined again, this time out of pure exhilaration. Wasting no time, you unzipped San’s fly, yanking down his pants and boxers as best as you could. His cock sprung out, hard and red, begging you to take it.

But first, you giggled mischievously as you gave it a few pumps, enjoying its weight in your hand. San groaned, throwing his head back and cursing under his breath. It didn’t take long for him to grow impatient. He grabbed your waist and guided you to sit up better, right above his manhood.

You moved your hips around just to antagonize San as he’d done to you so many times. He let out a frustrated groan, burying his face against your neck yet again, kissing it softly as he pleaded, “Cmon, baby, don’t make me crazy here.”

“Wanted this for so long, Sannie,” you breathed out as you finally sunk down on him, his hips thrusting up to meet yours. San chuckled, pushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“I know, baby, read all about it,” he smirked, that smug look on his face melting into a lovesick smile as you swatted at his chest. He couldn’t help but suck another bruise into the side of your neck before chiding, “Just teasing you, been thinkin’ about this for a while, too.”

He rutted up into you, hungry and needy, filling your slick heat completely. Your body twitched with each thrust, languid and deep, San’s silent confession. He was savoring his meal, taking it slowly and enjoying it wholly.

The only sound in the room was that of skin on skin, San’s hips snapping up into yours. He knew just the spot to hit inside of you. You cried out in pleasure, prompting San to speed up. The two of you, hungry and desperate to cum, moved together in a near perfect harmony. 

“Fuck, this pussy was made for me,” San stuttered, trying to keep himself inside you, but it was hard with your bouncing and his thrusts, not to mention the wetness you spilled each time he left your body for a moment. San grunted in your ear, biting down on your shoulder a moment later. He was close. It didn’t help that everytime he thrusted up into you, you let out the sweetest sounds. San wanted to listen to them all the time, but even the thought of doing this again with you made him harder. 

Honestly, his cock kept getting harder with each second it spent inside you. You were so warm, so tight. San was normally a patient man, but it was hard to take his time with you.

You couldn’t be helped either. As soon as he sunk his teeth into you, you came all over him. Wetness poured out of your cunt, coating San as you cried out his name. He followed suit soon afterwards, pulling out and cumming on your thigh. Quickly, San pulled you into a hug, still heaving as a big hand came up to cradle your head. 

For a few minutes, the two of you sat together, your form still tucked into San’s warm embrace as he rocked you back and forth. You both tried to regain your breath, but every little touch made either one of you gasp softly before you turned your head the other way, embarrassingly lovesick. 

San was warm, physically and figuratively. Sweat dripped off his forehead and fell onto yours, but you couldn’t care less if it meant being held by him. It was strong, secure, surreal… it was everything you had written about before. There were days when all you needed was a firm hug, to be held without the fear of falling, somewhere warm and safe. San was all of that, and you could feel it now. It wasn’t just something you wrote about anymore. It was real.

San noticed the face you made when you were thinking and his heart rate picked up. Was it not good? Did he disappoint you? He nudged your head with his shoulder, pouting, “What’s wrong? Was it not good?”

“What? No! It was amazing, I just… I like you a lot. And I like that I don’t have to imagine things anymore… Well, that is if you want to continue this,” you trailed off, blabbering embarrassedly. Maybe all he wanted was a hookup. Uneasiness settled into your features while amusement settled into San’s.

“Silly girl,” he scoffed, enamored by everything you were, “Do you want to be my girlfriend?”

Your eyebrows shot up and your heart fluttered. You were never one to get so worked up so easily, but San had a way of making it happen. You cleared your throat, trying to regain some composure.

“Do you want to be my boyfriend?” you mirrored, acting coy now. San cupped your face, dimples on full display as he smiled at you, meeting your gaze. He leaned in and gave you his first real kiss of the night. Your lips molded together perfectly, San’s tongue swiping across your lower lip occasionally. You felt his warm cheeks against yours, which made you giggle sweetly. San’s heart melted.

The boy pulled away a moment later, letting his forehead rest against yours, “Does that answer your question, baby?”

You snorted in response, shaking your head bashfully. You wanted to hear him say it. San rolled his eyes in response, his hands moving down your back to rest on either side of your ass. Still, he smiled and whispered, “Yes, I want to be your boyfriend.”

You sighed sweetly, unable to hold back the big smile on your face. San delivered a little spank to your ass, playful and teasing, “Happy now?”

You nodded, allowing a little squeal of excitement to leave you. “Very happy, Sannie. Very happy,” you whispered back, laying your head on his shoulder to look around the dark diner. 

Just then, your eyes spotted a little red light up in the corner of the diner, seemingly connected to a security camera. You jumped, whisper yelling at San, “Fuck! Fuck, the cameras, San!”

San jumped as soon as you did, following your gaze up to the security camera. He mirrored your panic for just a moment before pulling you further into the booth, pulling his jacket off to cover up your still bare bottom half. 

And just as you thought you were going to have a heart attack, San laughed, and somehow, the uneasiness melted away. He ruffled your hair playfully, moving you off his lap and onto the seat before zipping his pants back up. He stood up, leaning down to your level, “I'll go take care of it, honey. Just clean up and get dressed. And finish your shake,” he told you, motioning to the table where your half empty, half melted chocolate shake sat.

But as soon as he turned around, he turned back and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips before scurrying off to the office, ready to delete the footage. You couldn’t help but smile knowing San would take care of it. What a dream boy.

[centrally-unplanned]

We (somewhat rightly) mock the 2000's era fansub translation notes for their otaku fixations and privileging of trivia over the media, but they should be understood as serving their purpose for a bit of a different era in the anime fandom. Take this classic:

Like, its so obvious, right? Just say "pervert", you don't need the note! Which is true, for like a 'normie' audience member who just wants to watch A TV Show - but no one watching, uh *quick google* "Kamikaze Kaitou Jeanne" in 1999 is that person. The audience is weebs, and for them the fact that show is Japanese is a huge selling point. They want it to feel as 'anime' as possible; and in the west language was one of the core signifiers of anime-ness. 2004 con-goers calling their friends "-kun" and throwing in "nani?" into conversations was the way this was done, and alongside that a lexicon of western anime fandom terminology was born. Seeing "ecchi" on the screen is, to this person, a better viewing experience - it enhances their connection to otaku identity the show is providing, and reinforces their shared cultural lexicon (Ecchi is now a term one 'expects' anime fans to know - a truth that translator notes like this simultaneously created and reflected).

But of course your audiences have different levels of otaku-dom, and so you can't just say 'ecchi' and call it a day - so for those who are only Level 2 on their anime journey, you give them a translation note. Most of the translation notes of the era are like this - terms the fansubber thought the audience might know well enough that they would understand it and want that pure Japanese cultural experience, but that not all of them would know, so you have to hedge. The Lucky Star one I posted is a great example of that:

Its Lucky Star, the otaku-crown of anime! You desperately want the core text to preserve as much anime vocab as possible, to give off that feeling, but you can't assume everyone knows what a GALGE is - doing both is the only way to solve that dilemma.

This is often a good guideline when looking at old memetically bad fansubs by the way:

This isn't real, no fansub had this - it was a meme that was posted on a wiki forum in 2007. Which makes sense, right? "Plan" isn't a Japanese cultural or otaku term, so there is no reason not to translate it, it doesn't deepen the ~otaku connection~.

Which, I know, I'm explaining the joke right now, but over time I think many have grown to believe that this (and others like it) is a real fansub, and that these sort of arbitrary untranslations just peppered fansub works of the time? It happened, sure, but they would be equally mocked back then as missteps - or were jokes themselves. Some groups even had a reputation for inserting jokes into their works, imo Commie Subs was most notable for this; part of the competitive & casual environment of the time. But they weren't serious, they are not examples of "bad fansubs" in the same way.

This all faded for a bunch of reasons - primarily that the market for anime expanded dramatically. First, that lead to professionally released translations by centralized agencies that had universal standards for their subs and accountability to the original creators of the show. Second, the far larger audience is far less invested in anime-as-identity; they like it, but its not special the way its special when you are a bullied internet recluse in 2004. They just want to watch the show, and would find "caring" about translation nuances to be cringe. And since these centralized agencies release their product infinitely faster and more accessibly than fansubs ever did, their copies now dominate the space (including being the versions ripped to all illegal streaming sites), so fansubs died.

Though not totally - a lot of those fansub groups are still around! Commie Subs is still kicking for example. They either do the weird nuance stuff, or fansub unreleased-in-the-west old or niche anime, or even have pivoted to non-anime Japanese content that never gets international release. But they used to be the taste-makers of the community; now they are the fringe devotees in a culture that has moved beyond them. So fansubs remain something of a joke of the 90's and 2000's in the eyes of the anime culture of today, in a way that maybe they don't deserve.

[eeboyysworld]

“ Do you think you’ll kill for me one day? “

“Yes, of course i will my darling..”

Gi-hun!X Male!reader X In-ho!

Genre: Smut

Contains/Warnings?: Blood(Ofc its squid game), Blindfolds, reader is restrained, Dacryphilia , Degradation, Double penetrating from both ends,sexual voyeurism, ( guard being a pervert ) Bottom reader!

Player 001 and Player 456,Both mysterious in their own ways,you couldn’t tell if they loved each other or hated each other..And somehow, you managed to get yourself in the middle of them..literally.

You couldn’t remember the last time someone looked at you the same way they did, and no matter how many times you ignored it, the itch never went away.Their eyes forever stamped onto your skin. It was confusing..did you like it..or did you not?.It didn’t matter, in the end you were always seeking their approval. And they gave you it.

The bathroom you stood in was rather clean, probably because it’s only used once a year and by minimum people.The two men practically dragged you with them, Gi-hun murmuring “need to discuss the next game.” Not finding the need to leave, you let yourself get dragged into, realistically, the best night since you got into this shit-hole.

Understandably you were very awkward, especially in this position. The rope ached your wrists, leaving a red mark behind, the musk of blood and sweat inhabited your senses, a black void covered your sight, leaving you ultimately defenceless.Shivering as a rough hand grabbed your chin, a finger soothing your blood dried cheek.

“Look at you..being so obedient for us.” The mellow voice cooed at sight of you,” If only you could see how desperate you are.”

Biting your lip,as it drew blood, you couldn’t respond even if you wanted to.”-Ah ..stop teasing the poor thing.” Gi-hun, your saviour, the one who picked you up on the first game introduced to you and the many others, you owe him your life.And he knew that, although he didn’t want your life, just your body, and who were you to deny such a person like him.

Warm arms picked you up and perched you onto a lap, tight hands embracing you.Heart pounding with excitement, grounding down into the lap beneath you, his hips shuddering, suddenly he gripped your hips, stopping your movements. Tsking , “ You don’t get to decide when to move.-“Nipping at your neck, leaving kisses,he continues.” Only we get to decide your every step.”

Short breaths left you, red faced as they continue to bather you with dirty words and affection.Confusion was written all over your face, lips stuck in a pout.

Gi-hun’s sharp teeth sank into the crane of your neck, licking over the marks he left.Behind you, In-ho continued to grind into you, moving your hips along with his pace.They’re scents made you dizzy, pleasure and irritation flowed inside you,mewling from the amount of attention you received and the little attention for your own release.

“We have to hurry, before we get caught.” You had gotten used to the torment you got from them ,that it surprised you when a pair of cold hands yanked the green joggers down, a gasp left your chapped lips, the pre-cum stained the boxers you worn, leaving the tip cold.

“Come here baby-“ although your sights were removed from you , you stood up ,legs wobbly clinging onto the man you called your saviour. He kissed with passion and love, completely different from the man behind you, who was shoving his pants off, cock sprung and aching for touch.

Removing you from the other , he spat right onto your hole , sliding a finger up and down before shoving it in you without warning. “Mmgh-“ hiding into the crook of gi-hun’s neck, biting down on the sweater he wore, drool labouring down the fabric

“Already undone by just a finger-“ picking up the pace , “-Pathetic slut.” another was added and it continued until you were ready for him. By the time the prep was done , you were a wreck, back arched and tears stained the cloth, spit connecting with whatever you could latch on to hide the mewls you couldn’t hold in.

Being thrown into the stoic man’s lap yet again , his hands guided you down onto his length, giving a second to adjust before he lifted you up, leaving the tip to almost slip out, and then slammed right down again. Head thrown back as he continued to plung in and out , wet noises engulfed the bathroom, leaving whoever was out there to wonder.

Without time to recover, another hand yanked your head down, mouth gapped open allowed the other man ,who was watching before deciding to give in.” I hope you forgive me after this..” you had no clue what he meant, until a few moments passed before something was shoved into your warm mouth, his nails digging into your [h/c] locks, rocking you back and forth to meet in-ho’s harsh thrusts.

Whatever sense you had left was all gone out the window , you didn’t care if someone were to walk in and catch you guys , your cock needed touch, aching and red,and the two didn’t care for your needs.

Part of you wanted to get mad at them for it, but the other obeyed, leaving your tip over flowing with pre-cum.

Spit dripped down onto the floor , the moans leaving you too fast to comprehend the squeaky entrance door opening slightly.

Slaps echoed the room leaving no trace for anything else to be heard. Frankly, the guard hadn’t had a clue on what was happening, why were you guys taking so long. He wasn’t gonna find out , if it wasn’t for the rectangle head to appear, he wouldn’t have.But he was just a lousy triangle.

After being in there for one second, he knew what was happening in that stall. He should be putting his gun up, telling you guys that wasn’t allowed, atleast make himself known.But no, it was like he was in a trance, probably form the lack of attention he didn’t get lately, this damn job didn’t give him time to get laid .

Sneaking as quiet as he can, peeking through the hole, eyes wide at the sight that he interrupted. He landed on you , all messy hair and cock left unattended,oh how he would love to grant you some sweet release. He didn’t know your name, he might as well call you slut,after all that’s what he sees, just a whore allowing himself to be used like a cock sleeve.

Without batting a breathe , he slipped past his briefs and palmed his hard on, biting his lip to refrain himself.

You three were completely unaware of the audience you received, too lost in the temporary bliss.

They were close, you can tell with the way they became sloppy, clenching down onto the length nestled in you to help him finish. Sucking a little hard and repeatedly swallowing. “ You really know -mmh..know -how to drive a man crazy don’t you sweetheart.”

You could come without anyone touching you with their words, you were about to ,until a hand gripped your base with force. Immediately whining and writhing in their grip. How mean.

Without much warning , besides the shuddering of their hips, gi-hun pulled out before slamming back in before he painted you with his cum.The wet warmness from both men made you shiver. Your gummy walls coated white, marking you as theirs.

One last passionate kiss and lingering touches from the both of them and you guys were out of there, ready to take on whatever came your way (literally).

Only problem was, you didn’t have your release. That had you tossing and turning the whole night.

Maybe the guard from earlier would help you.. afterall you weren’t picky.

⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─── ⊰

AN: ain’t alor of squid game and male readers 😔 so here you go‼️ sorry if it’s bad 🙏

Ps Let me know if I should make more

[aetherraeys]

selected audience

barty crouch jr x afab!reader x regulus black ⊹ 2.3k

cw ⟢ mdni 18+, smut, voyerism?, oral (fem receiving), multiple orgasms, praise, overstimulation, regulus has a crush on reader, cumming untouched, swearing, lowercase intended

barty knew all too well about regulus' little crush, and decides its only right to give him a glimpse into the pleasures of being with you.

a/n: not proofread--this is actual filth and im not even sorry lemme know if i missed any warnings x

barty was many things, cocky, unhinged and absolutely batshit crazy about you. even before you started dating he did little to hide his feelings. looking at you all lovesick, and sparkly eyed as if you had personally hung them moon and the stars in the sky.

now barty was obsessed with you, clinically so. and well, that would mean regulus had the same condition. it wasn’t his fault really, he was fighting a losing battle—you were always so generous with your affection, letting it seep into everything you did, everyone you talked to.

so sweet, so dreamy, so compelling. and don’t get him started on your voice, oh your voice, honeyed and hypnotic, yet innocent making his brain involuntarily short-circuit.

regulus could talk at great length about you, but alas, you were with barty and he was, alone. surrendered against his will to a cruel fate—seeing you every single day, with his friend and roommate, knowing he can’t have you.

and barty, he was well aware of the way regulus felt about you, completely understandable—you truly were bewitching.

but, as established, barty was unhinged.

not just in the normal way, whatever that was.

barty pushed every limit, button and boundary within his grasp—meaning regulus was always in the line of fire.

he wasn’t one to put a damper on his intimacy just for the sake of his friend, no, he was going to enjoy his treasure fully.

usually it was you who’d reign in barty’s sadistic tendencies, but he was sneaky and wasn’t going to let your soft-nature ruin his fun.

he knew exactly when regulus would return to the dorm room after his prefect duties, same time everyday, like clockwork.

so today, he decided he’d really enjoy himself.

his hands were everywhere, your waist, your hips, your breast—planting wet, open-mouthed kisses on your inner thigh.

a sharp gasp of, “junior”, left your lips and he nipped, sucking a bruise, millimetres from the wet spot that had formed on your panties.

he only hummed as he pulled the waistband up and high off your skin, letting it snap back harshly, smirking at the way your body jolted. indulging himself with a few more peppered bruises, before peeling them off of you.

and just as he reach you ankle, discarding them within the four closed curtain pillars of his bed, whispering a muffling charm and crawling back up to you.

typically, when all the curtains on barty’s bed were closed, and the room rung eerily silent, regulus could guess what was happening in there—if the slight rocking wasn’t telling enough.

but today, as part of barty’s twisted game, he’d not done a silencing charm.

so when regulus came back, seven o’clock sharp, he could faintly hear your soft candied whines—his throat becoming so unbelievably dry at the realisation.

he knew he should have left immediately, he was intruding, invading your privacy, trespassing—perverting a moment that wasn’t his.

and yet, he couldn’t bring himself to move.

though muffled, he could make out so much, too much, of what was happening just a few meters away. his imagination getting away from him, feeling himself twitch shamelessly in his trousers.

you were splayed out prettily on the bed, one hand intertwined with barty’s, as you squirmed endlessly. knees flung over his shoulders humming lightly against your clit.

“o-oh my god- feels soo good-” your fingers releasing his hand to go card through his hair. two fingers already pushed passed the ring of resistance and curling up, deliciously into your walls.

your lip hastily pulled in by your teeth, hips rocking in pace with his fingers, now tugging—pulling at his soft locks in desperation. he lifted his eyes towards you, prying his mouth away from the swollen, sensitive bundle of nerves.

“c’mon treasure—wanna hear you,”

he’s looping an arm around one leg, hitching you up, so he’s snug against your core, fingertips digging into the flesh of your hips, intensity making try squirm away. but barty had you locked in, at his mercy, angling the to hit that one spot that had your back arching impossibly off the bed.

his tongue toying with your clit, eyes never leaving you, following your every twitch, every jolt, feeling you squeeze around his fingers so tight, crying out loudly, “f-fuck—junior, s’too-oh!”

clawing at him, his hair, his neck, his shoulders, grinding your deeper into his mouth, body writhing from the pleasure, and only then did he pulling away. kissing a trail up your body to your lips—meeting your lips in a far too tender embrace.

regulus was still frozen in place, the smallest beads of sweat prickling at his hair line—so unbearably hard. his ears rung and blood ran cold when he heard it—voice too casual, too fippant.

“reg?”, the smirk on his face was so smug. regulus didn’t move, don’t answer, breath caught in his throat—bracing himself for impact.

“reggie, you busy?”, barty peaked his head out from the curtain, cheeks still lightly rosy and lips glistening from his previous actions.

he barely meet barty’s gaze, his voice coming out pinched and higher than normal, “-uh, no, not uhm right now,”

its like barty knew he’d been standing there, just out of ear-shot, opening the curtain wider and motioning him over with a small nod of his head.

what the fuck was happening?

what the actually fuck was happening right now?

his shuffled over, eyes darting frantically around the room, avoiding everywhere but where his eyes wanted to land so desperately. but he was weak, eyes settling on him, and then you.

chest rising and falling at an increased speed, cheeks flushed, half-lidded and pupils blown out. barty’s body covering your center, but he could still see the way your stomach had been bared, tank-top bunched just under your chest—taking in every ounce of your appearance.

before he had opened the curtains, you’d heard him whisper between kisses something about regulus, but mind still mushy and agreeable, thoughtlessly humming—nodding at what he’d said.

when your head rolled, and your sights fell on him, a lazy smile spreading across your face—he sucked in a sharp breath.

barty had a wolfish grin on his face, watching him watching you—”strip then,” eyes snapped over to barty’s—he just waited expectantly.

his body moved before he had time to compute the command, hands shakily unbuckling is trousers, leaving him clad in just his boxers, bulge so painfully obvious. regulus looked back at him from approval, heartbeat loud and fast in his ears, “sit there,”—nodding over to the front of the headboard.

and as barty closed the curtains behind regulus, saying the silencing charm he was originally meant to, you mumbled a soft, breathy, “hi,” to him, as he settled back against the headboard, iron grip on the bedding beside him.

barty wasted no time ridding himself of his boxer, tossing them carelessly behind him—roughly dragging your hips forward, pulling you towards his middle, a light squeal leaving you.

regulus was completely breathless, overwhelmed by the initimate scene unfolding before him. with two soft pats to your thigh and a low, “on your stomach, treasure,”—as if on autopilot, your body twisted and turned to form the most delightful little arch regulus had seen in his life. crawling into the space between his legs, dangerously close to his middle, his thighs on either side of your head.

pressing his lips into a thin line, you were looking up at him so innocent, so inviting.

fortunately—or rather unfortunately, for regulus, that didn’t last long. barty pressing himself into you slowly, breath hitching in his throat as his hands found familiar purchase on the round of your hips. your head fell forward into the matress, barely a few inches away from regulus’ crotch—the whine the left your lips had him twitching helplessly in his boxers.

he almost couldn’t believe his eyes, barty was fucking into you, forcing you gradually further up the matress, closer and closer to him, and it had his head spinning.

“shit—soo tight, angel,” barty’s voice came out rough and gritting when he finally bottomed out—regulus could see the goosebumps spread down your spine, gasping in air, each breath shallower than the last, brows furrowing impossibly high on your forehead.

pushing lazy and drawn out grinds into you, fingers matching the tight grip regulus had on the sheets— ”hmmm, gotta breathe for me,” eyes rolling back, lips parted, neck craned up and so precariously close to regulus.

this is going to kill him, he thinks.

broken, needly cries spilled endlessly out of you, “-mmpf—junior, t-too deep—” slightly, barely muffled by the way your cheek pressed against the bed. it wasn’t until barty runted harsh and unfairly into you, that you finally made contact with regulus.

hand reaching up desperately, clutching onto the fabric at the hem of his boxers—face now resting on his inner thigh. “-hah, almost forgot about our guest,” words rushed and breathless. thrusts so bruising and unforgiving, pushing you closer to the edge—lips now raw and swollen from biting.

regulus could barely breath, the air around him heavy and thick with sex, drinking in each pretty expression that was on your face, knuckles white with the grip he’d yet to release on sheets. his body tensed under your touch, only managing to exhale a barely audible whisper,

“fuck,”

barty used his knee to spread your legs wider, rocking in, searching for a deeper angle—letting a huffed chuckle pass through his lips, relishing in the disheveled state regulus was in, smile splitting onto his face—

“why don’t you indulge him, love. mmhm don’t get all quiet on me now,”

he truly was insane, and so were you apparently, because your hand reliquished its grip on his boxer and taking his, interlocking your fingers together. regulus could now feel each rock of barty’s hips into your, each jolt that rushed over your body—unthinkably close. looking up him, that dazed, needy expression on your face.

and he’s sure he’d died and gone to heaven, gaze locked with yours—the soft pants and laboured breaths that had been falling out of you now littered with wanting cries of his name, “reggie-hah—reg! so-ngh, fuck, reg—”

he couldn’t even stop the way his jaw fell, a hitching breath twisted with a load groan, like the air had been forcibly punched from him.

you were so pretty, so ruined, vision blurring as the pressure deep in the pit of your stomach, barty could feel it, the telltale signs that you were close, sucking him in so tight he almost struggled to drag his hips back.

regulus knew barty was twisted, so the dark snicker that he let out made his stomach churn. each thrust more rushed and cruel than the last, loud ringing in your ears, hips fucking back wildly. “mmm, if you’re close, treasure—shit, y-you know what to do,”

nothing could have prepared for what you did, lifting your head up, staring directly into his eyes—gods this was torture—eyes pleading, swimming with desire, an intense need.

and you couldn’t bring yourself to feel an ounce of shame at the whiny pleas that immediately left you, so delirous with pleasure, your voice sounded foreign to your own ears. “r-reg, oh god-please, can i—mhm, reg, reggie—please” they tumbled out rushed, as you tried to run away from the thrusts, bumping roughly against the spot that made your vision spot.

he swallowed thickly, adams apple bobbing, tongue darting out to wet his painfully dry lips, “f-fuck, yeah—cum f’me, pretty,”

he could barely finish his sentence before your head fell into his lap, trembles wracking through your body, cries and whimpers loud, and scattered with stutters of “reg—junior, re-”

you were being manhandled, barty’s grip on your hips bruisingly tight—holding you flush against him, no escape, grinding in to you, fucking you through your high and then some. struggling to hold yourself up, hips jerking as bolting shocks striking your body.

but barty didn’t slow down.

if anything his fucked into you meaner, watching satisfied as your melted, almost drooling onto regulus’ thigh. “know ya got another one for us, c’mon, thaaat’s it,” your thighs tried to shut, shy away from the overstimation, but barty just slid one hand beneath you—rubbing messy and frantic circles into your clit, the other reaching and grabbing a light fist full of your hair.

compelling your unfocused gaze to meet regulus’.

messy and unintelligable moans and hiccups, eyes so far away, fruitlessly blinking back, fighting against the urge to let them just reside in the back of your head.

and regulus just couldn’t help himself, bringing his hands to your jaw, memorising, savouring the moment. shivering at his touch, tips of his fingers ghosting over the tops if your flushes cheekbones—tears prickling in the corners of your eyes. “s’alright, love, take it—goood girl,” his words coming out in a low gravelly purr.

jaw slacking in bliss, body seizing as you leaning into his palm, all the air pushed out of your lungs. barty still rutting into you, pulling the most lewd squelches from where you were joined, loud gasping groans spilling from his lips, stilling behind you—filling you up. before barking out a breathless laugh—eyes stuck on the wet patch that grew at the front of regulus boxers.

your body almost vibrating, slumping against the bed, huffing in large gulps of air—mind gooey and satisfied.

regulus swore he could see a faint layer of condensation locked between the four corners of the bed post, relaxing, and dipping his head back against the headboard.

hoping this would change everything.

[ozzgin]

Hello everyone, Valentine's Day is approaching and I have prepared some exclusive content for my friends! This time it's quite art-focused, though there's some short stories to look forward to as well:

Valentine's Day Cards: Featuring official art of Puppy!Hybrid [NSFW] and your perverted goat-demon Zzy

Comic Special: As per popular vote, this holiday page includes a bonus NSFW doodle featuring Centaur Manager

OC Cameo: A two-panel comic and blurb featuring Yandere!Android and his analysis of romantic gestures

New Characters: Meet some of the other guests frequenting the monstrous hotel, such as the ever-silent Vampire Noble, the mysterious Alien Priest, and the Cursed Child who keeps following you around; each intro comes with official art

Early Access: Stories that haven't made it to Tumblr yet, like Demon King dealing with colds, as well as the Monster Dating Show premiere! The Patreon release will have its own poll and resulting story + art featuring the round winner

Wishing everyone a lovely Friday, whether you're celebrating or not!

[heartfullofleeches]

fake pizza boy yan developed a concerning taste for seeing darling eating his cum after that first encounter and starts bringing a variety of menu items with “ranch dips” and “vanilla shakes”. plenty of visual material to keep the supply up for his next “delivery” and he is definitely not spiraling into crisis just because the only thing that gets him hard for his other shoots is the mental image of darling stuffed full of his—

(Slapping these two together since they have a similar premise)

Yan Adult Film Star Pizza Boy + Reader [18+]

[Masterbation, Food Play]

-

"Come on..... Come on....."

Twenty minutes till deadline. Since the beginning of his career he stuck to a strict schedule. A simple routine to get the ball rolling as he dipped his toes in the new venture. Now that he had so many eyes on him and his content, Brie was able to take more breaks in between filming, but at this point it had been almost two weeks since he posted anything at all.

He tried everything. His hands. Toys. Videos. Brie even thought about buying pills at one point, but gaining an erection wasn't the hard part of his situation. His viewers were into a lot of things - but if there was one thing that really got their wallets open for him it was when he painted the nearest surface to him with a heavy load of his release. His donations would be flooded with comments from his hands how they wished to be his desk or pillows - or for the opportunity to lick said object clean.

Kind of like how you licked your fingers clean on the day he first met you.

The brief flicker of your face in his mind made his aching length jump in his spit stained palm. The encounter he had with you was all that he could think about anymore. He was obssessed - The innocent confusion as you opened the front door, the genuine gratitude in your expression as you handed him some cash for all his troubles and the free meal. Brie would pay anything to see you sample his sauce again. The way your eyes lit up as the flavor registered on your tongue-

"Mmh....."

What he wouldn’t give to have those lips wrapped around him. If you liked what he gave you so much what better than to get it straight from the source, right? The slick sound of friction grows louder as his hand moves quicker - eyes scanning every corner of his room for more fuel for his fantasies. He wish he had kept the photos he found of you online on screen, but he feared loosing that knot of pleasure twisting at his insides if he took his focus off the task at hand for any reason.

His eyes fall on the drink cup from the takeout he picked up earlier in the day. A boring Styrofoam cup with no clear ties to any restaurant would be the perfect container to bring you another item off the menu. The peach tea he had earlier would be a dead giveaway for any tampering. He needed something thicker, ideally with a creamy texture.

A milkshake.

Who wouldn't enjoy a nice, refreshing shake after pizza? You surely had to be thirsty after eating all that bread. Brie fisted his cock to the image of you on your knees beneath his table - hands gripping the meat of his thighs as your mouth hung open awaiting your treat. You'd look so cute under him like that - his fans would absolutely love you-

A surge of jealousy strengths his grip. Nobody should get to see you like that but him. Those perverts could fotk over their life savings and it wouldn't be enough for Brie to share you with them. Maybe the occasional stream with the two of you couldn't hurt - your face held against his pelvis as he stuffed that pretty throat so nobody could see anything but his cock slipping past your perfect lips.

"Ah.... Y/n...." It's the first time he's said your name. The first time he's let his imagination run this wild. He makes a mental note to cut it out during editingthe. Brie swipes the camera off his desk, angling it better towards his lap and the empty floor below him. He then makes a grab for the empty cup - popping off its lid as he positions the container between his legs. They tremble - barely holding into the styrofoam without crushing it as Brie spits - whimpering as he coats his girth in another layer of his saliva. For a fleeting moment he can perfectly picturing the warmth dripping down his cock as your own - and that's all it takes for him to come undone.

Brie cries out your name with a shakey breath, clutching the edge of his desk for stability as his upper body lurches forward, pouring ropes upon ropes of his spend in the general direction of the cup. It's too much- With it being so long since the last time he came, this hard - tears stab at the corners of his eyes as he shutters, nails peeling chipping at the polished finish of his desk. He misses his intended target at first go, thighs glistening with cum as he hurriedly fixes the cup to catch the remainder.

Brie takes a long pause to catch his breath before wipping off his camera lense, posing with a shakey thumb up as he holds the cup for all to see.

"Shake's ready- Guess it's about time I make another delivery~"

-

"And here you are, one milkshake on the house. We're always trying out new things in the kitchen and like to reward our loyal customers by letting them sample new items first."

Swirling your straw through the thick slurry, you take another sip with a satisfied hum. "Hm. You said this was salted caramel, yeah?"

The delivery boy snaps back to attention - seemingly lost in thought as you gulp down the shake. "Y-yes. That's right- Your thoughts?"

"It's pretty damn good, actually. Been getting kinda hot these past couple of nights so this is just what I needed right about now."

Brie bites down hard on his bottom lip as you place the cool styrofoam against your bare neck, condensation running down to your chest.

"I forgot to ask the last time I can, but my boss finds it really helpful if I get some pictures of satisfied customers to put up. Would you mind if I took a couple of you right now?"

[xxsabitoxx]

Gojo Satoru NSFW A-Z

Part of my 20k follower celebration (past due)

Warnings: if it isn’t abundantly clear, this is smut :)

A/N: in honor of hitting 20k followers a while back, I’m going to be posting 10 NSFW alphabets for JJK men — scheduled post 4 :)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Satoru is a mix between affectionate and exhausted. He’ll shower you in kisses and soft praises while yawning, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you flush against him. He’ll mumble something about cleaning up after a nap, even if you’re squirming because you’re sticky he’ll assure you that after his nap, he’ll clean you up. 

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Satoru loves your thighs. He honestly loves every part of you but something about your thighs just draws him in. He loves to lay on them, squeeze them, hold them, feel the straddling his face… they’re just so soft. He can’t get enough. 

Satoru is pretty proud of his hands. He enjoys the way you compliment them, the way they feel slotted in your own. He loves the way they make you squirm and whine, he loves it. 

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Satoru can be a bit of a pervert, he has a fascination with cum. He’s very partial to coming inside of you or at least on your sex. Something about the sight of his pearly cum covering you or leaking out of your entrance drives him absolutely insane. Satoru is also rather fascinated by his cum staining your underwear, especially after a quickie. He’ll see his own release dripping out of you and hike your underwear back up before you can clean yourself. 

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Satoru is a panty sniffer and he tries to be sneaky about it. He’ll find your used underwear in the hamper and use them to get off, sniffing them while tugging his cock or using them to aid jerking off. What he doesn’t realize is you purposely leave your underwear around for him to “find”. 

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Satoru has a good amount of experience, enough to know what he is doing. But he can also argue that his consumption of porn videos and raunchy hentai aided his abilities. He’s a hands-on learner so it’s not surprising that he got a hang of things pretty quick. 

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Satoru enjoys just about anything but he likes positions where he can be really – and I mean almost suffocatingly – close to you. Mating press, missionary, spooning, cock-warming, etc. Anything where he can fucking squeeze you and keep you from getting away. 

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous? etc.)

Satoru is fairly serious but that doesn’t mean he won’t make sly comments or even joke with you a bit. He adjusts his own “humor” to what you like. He wants you to be comfortable so if you seem to relax more when he jokes around and talks to you a lot while fucking, he’ll do it. But he’s also capable of keeping the talking to a minimum, letting his body do the work while praising you endlessly. Though if one of you fumbles around a bit, he will not hesitate to chuckle. He thinks its really cute so don’t take offense. 

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Satoru’s hair down there matches the hair on his head, he rather likes that so it’s very rare that he’ll shave or wax it bald. Though, again, if you request him to, he’ll do it. Satoru maintains himself very well, cleaning himself every day and trimming every 1-2 weeks. 

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Satoru can be disgustingly romantic when fucking you, especially when he’d close to coming. He tends to blabber a bit, telling you how perfect you are, how much he adores you and needs you, that he loves you. He means every word of it too. He’s always down for less serious, playful sex, but he’ll still make sure to let you know how much you mean to him.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

1-3 times a week depending on his schedule and how long he’s away from you. He’s not shy about it, taking time out of his busy day to get off when he absolutely needs to. He claims it clears his head, sometimes he really can’t focus if he’s too worked up. 

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Satoru really enjoys praising (both giving and receiving). Truthfully, he’s really into bondage and shibari but he can get shy about it. He just likes the idea of restraining and being restrained. He supposes it can count as a kink, but he really likes fucking you while you wear his blindfold or eye wraps. He finds it hot, especially since you can’t see what's coming next. 

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Satoru knows himself and his body well enough to know he will knock out after sex 9/10 times. His favorite places to fuck you are all within your own home… and within range of your bed. He loves to fuck you on a bed of course, but he also enjoys just about any surface of your home. He even made it a little game once you moved in together, keeping mental notes of what rooms he had fucked you in and what rooms he still needed to. 

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

He feels a bit basic for this, but cute clothing and cute lingerie really does it for him. He enjoys when you dress up, maybe wear something sexier, but he’s very drawn to the pastels and laces on the various lingerie you like to buy. Sometimes it’s just as easy as batting your eyelashes for him and Satoru will find his cock twitching to life. 

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He will NEVER force you to do anything, but he is also willing to try just about anything you desire. Satoru draws the line at slapping and intentionally hurting. Even if you beg him to hit you, the most he’ll offer is a spank on your ass or chest but he’ll never slap your face. 

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Satoru is addicted to you going down on him. This man lives for blow jobs and he is not ashamed to admit that. He also adores going down on you, considering himself very skilled in that aspect. But fuck does he love it when you suck him off. 

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

It depends on the mood and your preferences. Satoru will tailor your sex excursions to fit your needs perfectly while still taking himself into consideration. Naturally, Satoru falls into the rough category with his hips moving quicker than he can handle sometimes.  

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Satoru is down for a quickie so long as you promise him caffeine or sweets after. I’m serious when I say this man will pass the fuck out after he blows his load. He prefers taking his time, not having to worry about being late for an event or being walked in on. Though he never really cared in the first place, people can wait on him. 

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)

Satoru will try anything at least once. He’s not shy with experimenting and isn’t afraid of risks. He understands that bodily functions can and will occur while trying different things (such as anal or pegging for example) and he understands things can… go down. But he’s fine with that. 

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Penetration wise, Satoru is a one and done kind of guy but he can push two or three if he’s really worked up (both hormone wise and adrenaline wise). When inside of you, Satoru can last between 5-8 minutes. But he makes sure to get you off as many times as you desire before getting himself off and calling it a night. 

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Satoru has no shame in using toys, both on himself and on you. He thinks they’re fun, and he finds no competition with them. Rather he uses them to enhance the experience instead of letting it do all the work. He’s very partial to the “magic wand” vibrator he bought for the two of you to use. Going as far as to buy a backup for when the original stops working. 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Satoru can and will tease you until you are sobbing but he makes up for it by making you come as many times as you can handle. He’ll never leave you hanging, even as a punishment. He’d rather overstimulate you than leave you with nothing because he knows how frustrating that can feel… and he just wouldn’t feel right about it. 

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

This man does nothing to keep his voice down or his volume to a minimum. He is moaning, cursing, whining, whimpering, begging, he has no shame in any of the noises he makes for you. 

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Satoru has toyed with the idea of a threesome but would give you full reigns on who the addition would be. He doesn’t mind if it’s a man or a woman, he’s not picky. But the more he toys with the idea the more he realizes how possessive he is over you and can’t bring himself to approach the topic with you. He’s not self conscious, he just… he thinks nobody can satisfy you like he does so why waste their time for a mediocre experience.  

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

When soft he’s about 5 ½ inches (14cm). When it's hard, he’s just shy of 7 inches (around 18cm). He’s girthy, enough to need preparation before entering you but nothing too painful. He’s pretty straight, a slight curve to the right but it’s not very noticeable. He’s pale, a flushed pink tip with veins running along his shaft. He’s very pleased with his dick. 

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Very high but he can control it well. Satoru can get a bit cranky if he doesn’t have sex at the very least four times a week. Even then he considers that to be too little. But with a busy schedule he’s not always home so it can’t always work out in his favor. 

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Literally within thirty seconds. He’ll keep himself up for as long as it takes to get you comfortable and settled in his arms and even then he’s out within two minutes. 

[starboye]

starring: simon "ghost" riley x male reader

request: Hey OP saw that you wanted some requests for Ghost and I was wondering if you could write some Ghost x male reader 🤭🤭 where they’re roommates (could be civilian AU or military) who both claim to be “straight” but are so gay for each other. I kind of make this opened ended there’s like zero Ghost x male reader stuff 😭😭

warnings: smut, some fluff i think, cursing, pervert!simon, pervert!reader, civillian!au, jerking off, fingering, making out

you and simon ended up as roommates after learning that he had nowhere to stay after getting of his mission and now every day is a struggle to stop yourself from pouncing on the man, you and him both claimed to be straight, casually bringing it up while on a mission with the 141 team but your actions tell a different story, longing glances and drawn out touches says that you both like each other, but both of you don't know that about one other, to sure that the other is strictly straight and doesn't hold any feelings.

the dynamic is kind of simple around the apartment, you usually cook and clean while simon is out working and he'd do the same when you're out, but recently simon has wanted to take the role of cleaning more often, that was a lie though he hated cleaning but when he realized he could use it for his own perverted nature he was eager to do it more, when doing laundry he'd steal a pair of your used underwear just to sniff it and jerk off with it.

fucking into his fist in the dead of night when he thinks you're sleep, using your underwear as a sort of gag to capture his deep groans, the imagination of fucking you senseless flooding his mind over and over till he came with choked back grunts that you heard unbeknownst to him, you both sitting on the couch watching tv the next morning as if he didn't imagine fucking you till you moaned every letter of his name.

and you well you weren't nearly any better than him, always sneaking into his room when he was at work to lay in his bed, sniffing whatever scent of him was left on his pillows and wrapping yourself in his blankets to then finger yourself to the thoughts of him using you like a cum rag, filling you up over and over till you cant think, and you knew that your fingers could never match up to what simon probably felt like but you wanted to know so bad.

you both wanted each other so badly but never knew if the other wanted it to, till one fateful night where you were both chilling in the kitchen cooking up some dinner when you turned around and bumped into simon, his hands quickly moving to hold your waist so you don't fall and you both stood there for some time, just staring into each others eyes "oh uh sorry" he stuttered releasing his grip on you and baking up "don't be" you quickly say wrapping your arms around his neck to kiss the man.

you having to stand on your toes just to reach his mouth with yours and with that you pulled back, a couple more seconds of silence following before he's picking you up and taking you to his room, and my god was that night good, you were both living out your fantasies of each other simon cumming over and over again till he was milked dry and you ending up a messy and incoherent mess splayed on his bed.

after that it was like to rabbits fucking constantly, over and over, day and night or even morning time by this point the neighbors were begging you guys to calm it down but that still didn't stop you guys, to drunk off one another love to even think of stopping, now here you were making out on the kitchen counter with simon after trying to bake desserts like you too didn't fuck that morning, after simon came home from work, and before dinner seems like tonight's gonna be a loud one.

taglist:@mailmango@spermeboy@ghostking4m@gayaristocrat@addictedtomalepits@staarb0y@crispysoup318@its-ares@gargoylesworld09@kadenvatsune@fuckshft

[itelya]

need help? salarymen! Nanami Kento x fem! black reader.

synopsis: you help your overworked colleague to solve his little -big- problem.

warning: nsfw (MDNI), creampie, sex in an office, perv nanami?, sucking d!ck, precum, sperm, beg, blowjob, dirty name, I think it’s all. (emphasis on black reader but accessible for everyone!)

words: 2430.

masterlist

Nanami was just about to leave after a long, exhausting day when his boss appeared behind him, as if on cue, to dump more work on his desk. "What an asshole", Nanami thought, forcing a polite smile as he reluctantly accepted the extra burden. He despised overtime, yet it seemed to follow him like a shadow.

Nanami got to work, cursing his boss. His gaze turned to his colleagues, who were packing their things to go home to relax after a long day. Unlike them, he was stuck here, chained to his desk like a fucking slave. He hated this job with every fiber of his being.

An hour later he decides to take a break. he had too much extra work. His boss wanted him dead? If that's not the case, he still doesn't believe it.

He closed his eyes, his mind wandering to bread, the last book he started but couldn't finish, his old life in jujutsu, and sex. Sex. He missed it.

He was not a sex addict but the pleasure of having a woman to fuck as he wanted and submissive to him. He loved. He wanted to taste again this pleasure that he lost for a few months.

He suddenly thinks of the colleague he often meets.

She was so beautiful. Her afro that sublimated her. Her brown eyes with which she looked at him so intensely. Her slightly pink and luscious black lips whose lip gloss sublimates even more these lips and her white teeth that she exposed so proudly when she smiled at him.

He wondered how good those lips would feel around his cock, how her lip gloss would stick to the base of his dick, how her intense tear-filled gaze would look at him and how her mascara would run with it.

Damn, he's horny as hell.

To make matters worse, he was thinking about the cleavage that revealed those fucking big brown breasts that reflected the sunlight. He wanted to stick his head in there. His fucking big ass in those pencil skirts that showed off his ass more than ever.

His mind wandered even more, haunted by the way she was affecting him. His hand instinctively went down to his pants, with a feverish gesture, he undid his pants and his boxer releasing his erection into the open air. He began to go back and forth on his dick thinking about how he would fuck her like she deserves.

"Fuck.. y/n.", he moans and grunts thinking he's alone upstairs.

Light footsteps sounded behind Nanami, but he paid them no mind, lost in inappropriate thoughts about his colleague. They stopped inches away from him, almost pulling him out of his reverie.

Noticing a presence near him, he removes his hand from his cock and opens his eyes. It was y/n who was next to him. You look at him surprised but a glimmer of desire passes in his eyes. You smile and look at his big veiny cock directed towards you.

"Y/n? Fuck! Sorry forget it please… I'm begging you."

“Forget it? Impossible,” you smile and point to his cock that is throbbing under your gaze, precum dripping from its red tip and begging for attention.

"Please..", you laugh lightly and move closer to him. You take his jaw in your hand and force him to look you in the eyes.

"Who knew my unchalant coworker was such a pervert, jerking off at work and moaning my name?"

“Y/n…”, his voice breaks. He looks at you helplessly but so excited under your words and your intense gaze.

"Need help? I'm feeling generous I want to help you with your problem nanami.", your whisper in his ear in such a sensual way that his cock moves.

"Please.", you smile and kneel in front of him. You continue to look at him then place your hand so soft on his needy cock that he could cum right away.

You start to touch him slowly, testing his patience. You spit on your hand and speed up your hand movements. He watches the contrast of your brown hand jerking his white cock. Fuck, he doesn't know why but it turns him on even more.

You place light kisses on his pretty veins and his tip then lick his length but still don't put him in your mouth. He can't take it anymore. He just wants his cock in your wet and warm mouth. His dominant aura takes over.

His hand slides into your carefully styled afro and tugs on it, forcing you to look at him. You smile at him. This is what you wanted. For him to make you submissive to him like in your wet dreams about him. You just dream of his big cock in your mouth.

Damn, you're horny as hell.

"Be a good girl for me. Put it in your mouth.", he removes his hand from your hair, sliding it over your cheek to caress you. You open your mouth, so eager to want to satisfy him. "Stick out your tongue.", you do of course. He takes the base of his cock and slaps your tongue. The precum spurts into your mouth.

He removes his hands from you and lets you do it, not wanting to rush you too much even though he wants to do such dirty things to you right now. You close your mouth on him and tease his tip with your tongue. He tastes so good. You could become addicted.

He moans softly, looking you as you stare at the blond hairs at the base of his cock promising you that he'll manage to stick your lips to it one day.

You start swallowing each inch by inch into your hot mouth and hollow your cheeks to give him more pleasure. You breathe through your nose so your breath settles on his sensitive big dick which makes him tremble in spite of himself.

You smile and start sucking him and accompanying your hand to compensate for the inches you can't take. You spit on him to make it easier. Your other hand starts playing with those filled and warm balls.

You lick it, suck it, jerk it, spit it, drool on it. You're a fucking mess. Your face.. Fuck, it's sexy and messed up at the same time. Your eyes are filled with tears and black from your mascara that ran because of your tears. Your chin is filled with drool, spit and precum.

Your little black panties were ruined, you were sure of it seeing how wet you were just because you sucked him and he mistreated you like he wanted you in his life. Your feet were shaking but you didn't care you preferred to take care of the man who obsessed you every day. You weren't in your normal state just like him.

Nanami looks at your defeated and horny face and the floor soaked with your fluids leaking from your panties. Shit. Were you such a slut for him? The thought makes him laugh inwardly. You were better than in those dreams.

He suddenly pulls his big soaking wet dick out of your mouth and gasps loudly. He was going to cum. He wants to make the moment last longer. You look at him surprised and astonished at the disappearance, your mouth feels lonely and empty. You could have cried because of that.

"Fuck Y/n. You said I was a pervert but look at you you're so horny just sucking my cock.", he smiles and watches you. "You're so slutty my angel."

"Nanami…"

"Need help? I'm feeling generous I want to help you with your problem Y/n.", he smiles wickedly and repeats the same sentence you told him before.

"Please.", he smiles and grabs you by the jaw and pulls you up. Your legs are shaking and threatening to collapse. You curse yourself for wearing such uncomfortable heels.

He takes his things off his desk and puts you on it. He slides his hands on your waist and brings his face closer to yours. How could he resist you for so long? You're so beautiful. One of his hands places itself on your face and wipes away your tears.

You slide your hands around his neck and move closer to him and look him straight in the eyes. How could you resist him for so long? He's so sexy. You kiss him so shyly that you don't recognize yourself. You close your eyes and open your legs.

He kisses you back softly wanting to be gentle with you. Your tongues intertwine together. You taste each other. It feels so good. He sees you close your eyes and does the same. He gets between your legs.

His dick snakes under your skirt and rubs against your soaked panties. You moan into the kiss and so does he. Damn why are you doing the same things? Is your future mapped out to be with this man? You pray inwardly that it will be the case.

You pull away from each other, a trickle of drool connects you. You're panting so hard. His other hand slides up your skirt to pull it up to your waist and then his fingers tease your folds through your wetness. He brings those fingers to his mouth.

“You taste so good. I could get addicted.”, he wets his fingers with his drool and puts his fingers back near your needy and hot pussy. “Do you think you deserve these fingers baby?”

Your mind is too muddled to speak but you nod. You need it terribly. Those big thick fingers stretching your insides, you've dreamed of them countless times.

"I guess I can do you that favor.. you sucked my cock amazingly. That mouth was made for me wasn't it?" He strokes your slightly dry bottom lip. He licks your lips and kisses you again but more roughly.

He moves your black panties to the side and rubs his fingers against your soaking black folds. His thumb circles your clit that needs attention. You moan Nanami's name and beg for his fingers.

A smile stretched his lips seeing you so eager. Without waiting, he slid a finger into your tight, hot entrance, with disconcerting ease. A moan escaped him at the sensation. You moaned too, filled with pleasure. You felt so good.

A second finger inserts itself as easily as the first, gently sinking into your intimacy. He begins to move, drawing slow and deep back and forths. His gaze falls on his fingers, watching them disappear and reappear. The idea of ​​his dick following the same path obsesses him, making him even more feverish.

His thumb continues to stroke your clit, which begins to swell with pleasure. You squirm on his fingers, but your movement is abruptly halted when he slaps your clit, drawing a plaintive moan from you. Tears well up in your eyes, but he remains merciless. Ignoring your silent pleas, he pushes his fingers deeper, expertly curling them to reach your g-spot.

How delicious. Your eyes roll back, overwhelmed by a wave of pleasure that envelops you entirely. Your nails instinctively dig into his shoulders, searching for an anchor point. You want to come, even if it's way too soon, almost ridiculous when he's only slid two fingers inside you. Incoherent words escape your lips, betraying how weak this man makes you.

"With just two fingers you can't talk anymore. What a bitch you are. What do you want to tell me baby?", he smiled wickedly, he curled his fingers even more. You almost screamed but you bit your lip. "Come on.. use your words be a good girl. You don't want to disappoint me do you?"

"N-no, I don't want to... I-I'm gonna cum, it's- it's too soon..."

"Fuck with two fingers you want to cum already? Fucking slut."

He pulls out those wet fingers leaving you empty. He brings his hand to his cock and kisses you roughly. He rubs his cock between your wet folds and your clit. His precum drips onto the black hairs of your pussy.

"I don’t have a condom.. fuck.", he rests his head against your shoulder frustrated and excited.

"It's okay.. fuck me please. Fill me.", whisper in his ear.

"You're gonna be the death of me, shit... I'm starting to come in.", he breathes hard and starts to enter little by little in your hot little pussy, soaked, tight like a virgin. He holds himself back from cumming, you were better than in his dreams.

You moan from the intrusion. He’s so big, thick. How good it feels… the stretch makes you see stars. He finishes entering you and doesn’t move anymore, giving you time to adjust to his length. He places kisses on your shoulder then on your jaw.

You whisper to him that he can move. He doesn't hesitate and moves immediately. His hips press against yours. The wet sounds of his cock coated in your spit and drool and your soaking wet pussy.

His hand slides around your waist to hold you against him wanting the contact of your brown skin against it. You moan loudly and scream his name forgetting that you are at work. His hand places itself over your mouth to silence you.

"Shut up. Don't you want the whole building to hear how I fuck you like the slut you are?", you wanted to say that you wanted it but you're not that crazy.

He smiles and makes his movements faster and deeper inside you. He searches for your g-spot wanting to make you twist with pleasure for him. He whispers dirty words in your ear that make you wetter even more.

Minutes pass and he continues to fuck you moaning feeling your little pussy swallow him. Your spongy walls flutter around his big cock that destroys your senses. You can only moan and beg him for more. You become addicted to him.

"Na- nanami I'm go- going.. to cum..", he looks at you and slides his hand on your swollen clit, rubbing circles on it.

"Cum for me. Be a good girl for me.", you moan as if to say you agree. His movements become less rhythmic but deeper meaning that he is going to cum too. "Your pussy is made for me Y/n.", his dick was made for you, you could only agree.

A few hip thrusts later you cum at the same time. He empties himself inside you, filling your walls with his hot, viscous white seed. Your walls milk him wanting to keep every last drop inside you.

Your limbs tremble from the pleasure felt and become numb. You thought you saw the stars. You breathe hard, searching for air as best you could. He rests his head on your shoulder, exhausted but satisfied. Nanami hopes you liked it too.

He pulls out of you, his soft member soaked with your juices. His gaze falls on your satisfied expressions then on your black pussy whose sperm flows between your wet folds.

"I'll fuck you better and in bed baby I promise.", he kisses you promising himself to take you on a date like you deserve as the woman you are.

any opinion is appreciated! thanks for reading till the end 💗

requests: OPEN.

© 2024 itelya. All work belongs to @itelya. Do NOT repost, modify, translate or plagiarize in any way on ANY platforms.

[iwaizumis-bitch]

𝔦 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢 𝔴𝔥𝔢𝔫 𝔴𝔢 𝔤𝔢𝔱 𝔣𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔨𝔶 𝔬𝔫 𝔠𝔞𝔪𝔢𝔯𝔞~

𝔰𝔶𝔭𝔫𝔬𝔰𝔦𝔰: haikyuu men and reader (you!!!) getting freaky on camera

𝔠𝔬𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔫𝔱 𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: f! reader, degrading names, creampies, photography during sex, tummy bulging.

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱: 1182

KIYOOMI SAKUSA

it was a well known fact amongst all of kiyoomi's closest friends that a polaroid photo of you sat in the front card slot sakusa's wallet. it was a photo of you with a nervous smile and a large bouquet of tulips, taken the night of one of you and kiyoomi's first dates. you smiled at the photo, remembering the memory fondly.

just as you were about to fold the wallet shut, the border frame of another polaroid sticking out the top caught your eye. you'd flipped through kiyoomi's wallet countless times, whether it be grabbing some change to tip the doordash driver or to grab his coffee card to stamp, but never once had you noticed another polaroid.

you let out a small huff of confusion, pulling out the photo. your face immediately warms up as you're greeted with the sight of your own face, only this time your tongue was out and painted with streaks of white. your eyes were squeezed shut from the flash and a slender hand was wrapped around your bitten neck. you remembered sakusa told you that night, 'you look like a bona fide cumslut', and there was no doubt about it.

you felt an ache between your legs as you remembered all the things kiyoomi had done to you that night. all the filthy praise and condescending names he called had you take a sharp breath in. and like a predator drawn to its prey, you felt a looming presence behind you and a hand coming up to slide the polaroid next to the on display polaroid of you.

'everyone knows you as such a sweet girl', he coos into your ear, stroking his thumb over the bouquet of flowers. your heart skipped a beat as you felt his erection grind up against your ass, his nose nuzzling against your hair.

'but only i know the real you'.

HAJIME IWAIZUMI

'shit', iwaizumi groaned as his hips stuttered, slamming into your ass one more time as he filled your cunt with his cum. his hips rolled against yours, teeth gritted as he made sure to release every drop inside of you. his biceps trembled, finally letting himself plop down on top of you, kissing against the side of your neck. as blissful as he felt like this, he was a gentleman before anything and quickly began on aftercare.

he slowly pulled out, trudging to the en suite to fetch a washcloth. after running it under the tap, he gently moved your hair from your neck, placing the cool cloth where he could see you were sweatiest. he let out a little laugh at your hum of relief, watching the side of your face disappear into the fold of your elbow.

he moved down, gently spreading your legs apart watching as his cum started to trickle out and down your thigh. his cock immediately perked up again, rubbing his thumb over the skin of your inner thigh. it was such a pretty sight, he wanted to be able to see you like this whenever he wanted. his eyes snapped to his phone, nestled among the bedsheets, and a perverted idea came to his head.

'y/n?', he asked gently, hand resting on your lower back. it wasn't uncommon for you to fall asleep after being bred, especially after a long day of work. at your lack of reply he grabbed his phone, quickly swiping to open his camera. he tapped to make sure the camera was focused, he softly spread open your pussylips, taking a photo of your thoroughly spent pussy, and cum covered thighs.

'whatcha doin?', you mumble, tilting your head back to the side, having been woken from your light slumber at the sound of a shutter clicking. a small smirk was playing on your lips as you saw hajime's shocked face, clearly not expecting you to catch him in such an act.

'sorry', he mumbled, cheeks flaming. 'i'll delete it, you just looked so hot i-', he fumbled around his words, licking his lips.

'mmm, show me', you hum, looking at him expectantly. he pauses for a moment, before moving to lay down on his side beside you, hesitantly bringing up the couple of photos he had taken. he watched as you start to nibble on your lip, zooming into the photo.

'that's hot, keep it', you say, blatant and unashamed, smiling sultrily up at him. 'but please just clean me up so i can go to sleep', and who was he to deny you of anything he asked, he thought, nodding quickly as he grabbed the washcloth, but not before saving the photo to his favourites folder. he kisses atop your head, mumbling against your skin.

'how about you take some of me next time?

WAKATOSHI USHIJIMA

you had photography to thank for everything in your life, after all, it was how you had first met your husband. as a photography major at your local university, you were one of the few students selected to photograph the Schweiden Adlers season opening match. you were too entranced trying to focus your lens to notice the volleyball flying towards you, only realising the dire situation you were in when one of the players you were supposed to be photographing ran out in front of you, batting the ball away.

well now, wakatoshi was the one too entranced on trying to focus the lens. you knew not to boss him around, but you really wished he'd hurry up and twist the focus ring. you were both laying naked on your bed, you lying on your back with him between your legs, fiddling with the camera. you can't help but let out an impatient whine, reaching out and grabbing his cock.

his eyes snap to yours, jaw locked as he set the camera down. he grabs your chin, rubbing his thumb against your lip. 'where, oh where did my good little girl go?', he teases. his gaze doesn't break as he watches you squirm in fear, albeit he's not stopping you from jerking his cock.

you grab the head of his cock, shuffling forward to press it against the entrance of your pussy. 'i'm here', you mumble around his finger, ashamed of your impudence. before you can even think to start to beg for him to fuck you already, wakatoshi sheathes his entire cock into you in one quick motion.

immediately, your eyes rolled to the back of your head then squeezed shut as a needy moan sounded from your quivering lips. he held your hips in place to stop you from squirming around, and just relished in the feeling of your pussy wrapped so snug around his pulsing cock.

he took his time picking up the digital camera, his other hand resting over the obvious bulge poking out of your lower stomach. 'breathe baby', he reminds you, watching you flounder around in your aroused state. he snaps a quick photo of your stomach, with his hand resting on your him. he scoffs when he hears you whining again, feeling your pussy twitch around him. he chuckles at your desperation, leaning down to whisper into your ear

'how do i video on this thing, i wanna make you my personal pornstar?'

thank you for reading!! likes, reblogs, follows, and general feedback are all appreciated♥️

[spidehpig]

the crooks are out, and the streets are grey

aka a prison pen pal au

HUUUUGE fucking thank you to @ceilidho for all of the writing advice and beta reading this and just generally being a big motivation and indulging in all of my random cod thoughts lol

this is incredibly self-indulgent. tags will be updated accordingly with a warning on each chapter when necessary. i'm a big fan of ghoap being perverted violent freaks if you couldn't tell.

thanks for reading besties. sorry there isn't any direct reader x ghost interaction yet. i promise it's coming.

you can also find me on twitter

[cw implied sexual harassment, future dubcon, explicit sexual content] 18+ MDNI

AO3

Part 1

It starts with a little slip of paper shoved under the bars of his shared cell with Soap. 

An official notice to inform inmates of the start of a new pen pal program the following week. Some rehabilitative bullshit about encouraging good behavior and rehabilitating prisoners on track to be released within the next few years. Ghost can’t help but roll his eyes as he crumples up the slip of paper and makes his way to the prison yard. Doesn’t give it another thought. 

That is until he receives a letter. Packaged in a little envelope with the prettiest handwriting he’s ever seen, addressed to the one and only Simon V. Riley: Inmate #634. The envelope had been torn open with a letter opener, read by prison staff, and searched for contraband, of course, before it made its way through the slot of his cell door. It comes in a lilac envelope and it's even adorned with a pretty little heart right next to his name scrawled in cursive. 

Ghost shoves the pastry he swiped in the cafeteria from a new inmate into his mouth as he rips open the letter with mild interest. He lets out a snort when he sees that the staple holding the pages of the letter together was ripped out by whatever guard had gotten stuck with mail duty today. He knows that you’ll have already received an angry voicemail from the prison advising you that all mail to inmates must be paperclip and staple free upon arrival. 

He glances over the letter with disinterest, a couple paragraphs introducing yourself and one detailing your excitement about joining the program. He only skims his way to the second page where you start to ask him questions about himself before he’s crumpling up the pages to shove under his bunk. He’ll be free of this place in a mere sixteen months; doesn’t need a bloody pen pal to encourage good behavior. 

He knows that there is anger and violence rooted deep within him. On a good day, it simmers in his chest, a warm heat that lies dormant. On bad days, it burns so hot that he can feel the angry heat creep up into his throat. It makes the words that spill from his mouth cruel, and his calloused fingers twitch as he stomps his way over to the courtyard to beat the old punching bag until his shirt is soaked through with sweat and his knuckles are raw and bloody.

Not all bad days end with him wrapping his split knuckles with bandages from the infirmary. Sometimes they end with him in solitary and picking another inmate’s dried blood from underneath his fingernails. He hasn’t had a bad day like that in over a year now. 

If he’s being honest with himself, it’s only because he doesn’t want to jeopardize his early release. Most of the other inmates know well enough now to leave Ghost be. The last inmate to piss Ghost off ended up in the infirmary with three broken ribs and two of his own teeth spat into his palm. 

Poor sod ducks his head like a quivering dog every time he meets Ghost’s gaze now; surely won’t make the mistake of cutting in front of him in line at the cafeteria again. Ghost hasn’t been outside of a prison in the last seventeen years but he can’t imagine a civilian would try to swipe food from his plate or pick a fight with him just to see if they could win it. 

So he lies through his teeth at every psych evaluation. Tells the doctors that the exercises they suggested are helping him manage his anger. He has a feeling they don’t quite believe him, but he hasn’t had an episode in over a year to justify their reservations. And since they don’t question his ability to rehabilitate into civilian life, he tells himself that he’ll be fine on the outside. All he has to do is keep to himself until Johnny gets released eight months after him. He just needs to behave for another year and he doesn’t see how writing letters would make any difference.

He had thought that if he just ignored the letters they would eventually stop coming, but despite his obvious reluctance to partake in the program, the letters keep coming. Every last one in a pretty lilac envelope, notably staple free since the first one. He gleans little from her letters. Some young bird that signed up for this pen pal exchange. She’s twenty-one and has an interest in criminology. 

Ghost decides that he hates her for it. 

Each letter gets shoved under the bunk; most of the time he doesn’t even bother to open and read them. He rolls his eyes when Soap whines and begs to trade pen pals with him. Apparently the poor mutt got stuck with some seventy-four year old retired veteran and he doesn’t think it's fair that Ghost got paired with a young woman. 

It isn’t until he receives yet another letter from his unwanted pen pal, this time addressed from another country, that something finally makes him stop in his tracks. The bird is apparently studying abroad and when he opens the envelope, a flimsy polaroid floats down into his lap. He doesn’t bother to read the newest letter and instead snatches the picture up between his thick fingers. He can’t help the groan that escapes his lips the second he flips the polaroid picture over.

Ghost hardly even looks at the sweet smile and bright blue ocean behind her. No, that’s not what catches his attention. His gaze immediately flicks down to the swell of her breasts taking up half of the image. What would be an innocent selfie to most might as well be a page ripped straight from a playboy magazine to Ghost. Clearly taken at the beach after a swim in the ocean, sweat and ocean water glistening on your skin, and Ghost can see the peaks of your nipples poking through your thin bikini top. 

And fuck is that enough for him. He hasn’t had a woman in, well, ever, and the guards keep confiscating his playboy magazines, so this will have to do. A low grunt escapes his chest as he reaches down to palm his cock that’s now twitching to attention. He pauses to make sure Soap is still snoring, loudly , in the bunk above him before he reaches down to grope at his stiffening prick. Unzips himself from his prison issued track pants and palms at his stiffening cock over the thin fabric of his briefs. 

He hisses between his teeth when he dips his hand under the band of his briefs and the rough skin of his palm tugs against the sensitive skin of his cock. Has to yank his hand back and spit into his palm before wrapping his thick fingers around the base of his cock. His other hand grips the picture of you between his fingertips as he pulls his foreskin back to reveal his swollen tip already leaking precum. It twitches in his hand as another glob of precum leaks down his prick. 

He has half a mind to wake Soap up and shove his cock down the boy’s throat. If he fucks his throat deep enough he could pretend it’s the tight heat of your cunt clenching around his cock while he laps at one of the nipples peaking through your bikini. 

Ghost’s fantasy is shattered the second the little shit sleeping above him wakes with a loud snort. He watches Soap’s head peek over the side of his bunk, pretty blue eyes clouded with sleep as his disheveled mohawk dangles over the metal bunk. 

“Yeh could’ve asked for a helping hand yaknow that, Ghost. Yeh know I’d—” Soap’s voice cuts off abruptly, eyes narrowing on the polaroid clutched in Ghost’s hand and the other wrapped around his prick.

”Whatcha got there, Ghost?” Soap drawls, accent still thick from sleep.

”Fuck off, Johnny,” Ghost grunts as he looks back down at your picture and gives his cock another stroke.

No use in deterring his mutt once his sight is set on a bone though. He feels the bunk shake and squeak as Soap scrambles down the ladder, the pervert already tenting his boxers as he crawls into Ghost’s bed.

”I said fuck off, Johnny.” Ghost grits his teeth and clutches your picture to his chest. Trying desperately to reimagine the swell of your tits pressed against his chest when you finally sink down on his cock. But Soap is relentless. His needy slut straddles Ghost’s thighs with a smirk on his face. 

And fuck it, his boy is gagging for it, he might as well. He doesn’t acknowledge Soap’s incessant teasing and instead fists a hand through his soft mohawk before shoving the brat’s head between his legs. 

A low growl escapes his chest as the man’s lips wrap around his throbbing cock. And fuck, does his mouth feel good, tight and wet as his soft lips slide down Ghost’s length, throat swallowing around him. He loses himself in the feel of Soap’s practiced mouth, eyes only snapping open when Soap lets out a deep moan. Before he can even think, the palm of his hand is connecting with Soap’s cheek, hard . It draws a low moan from Soap’s throat which only serves to irritate Ghost more.

”Shut up,” Ghost snaps and pushes Soap’s head down on his cock until he feels the man flinch and gag around his prick. Usually he loves to hear the whorish sounds that fall from his boy’s pretty lips but right now, he’s trying to imagine the way you’d cry out and beg as he inches his cock into the tight heat of your cunt. Ghost slaps his boy across the cheek again when Soap lets out a low growl and scrapes his teeth on the underside of his cock. 

Soap seems to get the message, his moans and growls slowly quiet, swirling his tongue around Ghost’s swollen glands before sinking down until his nose is buried in Ghost’s pubic hair. Ghost loses himself in the wet heat of Soap’s throat once more, eyes rolling back as his head knocks back against his pillow, your pretty smile contorting itself into a cry as he bullies his cock into your cunt. His hips buck and bruise the back of Soap’s throat with every thrust while he dreams of fucking your pretty cunt full of his cum. He cums with a snarl on his lips and Johnny gagging around him. Holds Soap down on his cock as he reaches down to squeeze at his balls one last time before ripping the boy off his cock with a sputtering gasp. 

Soap is immediately scrambling up the bed, grinding his prick against the swell of Ghost’s thigh.

”C’mon, Ghost, lemme see, just a peek I swear that’s all I need,” Soap whines, frantically grinding his cock against Ghost’s leg. Ghost blinks as the bliss from his orgasm melts away, the bunk creaking from the force of Soap’s desperate thrusts, the man panting and grunting above him. 

He languidly flips your photo between his fingers, any streak of possessiveness gone now, as long as it’ll get his mutt to stop humping his leg faster so he can get some sleep. 

“Ah, fuck , Ghost, looks bonnie, don’t she,” Soap pants as his eyes flit over your bikini photo, the grind of his hips losing their rhythm for a moment. 

“Bet ‘er ass hasn’t been fucked yet,” Soap groans.

”Make ‘er take us both.”

”Bet she tastes sweet.”

”Pretty thing.”

Ghost barely registers Soap’s babbling above him, just grabs his ass and guides his hips against his thigh until Soap is cumming in his briefs with a low moan. When the boy finally calms down enough to catch his breath, he pulls the cum soaked briefs off of his boy and tosses them across the cell before pulling the mutt to his chest as they both doze off.

Ghost wakes annoyed, drenched in sweat and cum and Soap snoring loudly against his neck. The little shit has the audacity to grumble and pout when he makes Soap go sleep in his own bunk. When he hears Soap’s start to snore, he sits up, stealing Soap’s pencil and a spare sheet of paper. He starts scribbling words back to you. The first letter he’s responded to. His handwriting is ugly and near illegible, but he thinks you should be able to read most of it. He hangs his arms out of the bars of his cell and whistles at the guard stationed down the hall. Shoves his letter to you in the guard’s hand and grunts at him to send it to his bird.

The guard, Andrews, he thinks, scoffs snatching the letter from Ghost’s fingertips before banging on the cell door.

”MacTavish! You got a letter for your lovebird too?”

Ghost groans, already prepared for the bitchfest that’s about to happen.

Soap awakes with a loud snort, head snapping up over the edge of his bunk and rubbing the sleep from his eyes.” 

“Aye fuck off, you limp dick prick,” Soap growls and scrambles down the rickety bunk to press the length of his body against the cell bars as he curses the guard that taunted him. A litany of Scottish curses fall from his lips as Soap presses his forehead to the bars and goads the guard into approaching their shared cell. The little spitfire has himself so worked up he’s pacing the length of their cell and spewing insults at the guards on duty.

“I know yer playing favorites, Andrews. Think yer funny giving me some old bastard, don’t yeh?” Soap hollers into the hallway and slams a fist against the bars of their cell, pressing his forehead against the bars once again, growling and swearing some more when Andrews takes a step back, barking out a harsh laugh. Ghost can practically see the metaphorical fur on Soap’s hind spike up at that, just a moment before he spits at the guard’s feet. Andrews, the scrawny little fucker, lurches forward to swat at Soap’s fists clenched around the bars of their cell with his baton.

“You better back up and watch that mouth of yours Mactavish, or it’ll be another two days in solitary for you,” Andrews snaps at Soap and shoots a knowing directly at Ghost. 

And oh does Ghost hate when Soap gets sent to solitary. Can’t use his boy’s holes when he’s locked up on the other side of the prison. The rough drag of his own fist just can’t compete with the tight heat of Johnny’s throat or arse. Especially now that he’s got a bird back home to think about. Ghost grips the back of Soap’s sweat soaked shirt and yanks him back from the cell bars, grunting at him to give it a fuck rest.  Ghost retreats to his bunk when Soap finally cools off, watching as Soap flops down onto the chair at their shared desk and starts to angrily scribble in his journal, occasionally grumbling to himself under his breath. He settles back against his pillow, content with thinking about his new bird on the outside until the guards release them for breakfast. He almost feels bad about not writing to you sooner. Poor girl tired of her letters going unanswered, you really were just begging for his attention when you sent a violent inmate a photo of your tits now, weren’t you?

[millyondollarbaby]

Could you make yandere pervert, yandere creep catching reader touching themselves and moaning their name?

I’m trying to figure out how this would work because most normal people only touch themselves in the privacy of their home and what are the chances you invite this guy in your house? And it’s not like you invite someone over to go masturbate- anyway I feed you heathens. Not proofread

YAN! Creep x Reader

For the purposes of this lets say he was really embodying that inner creep and managed to bug your bedroom. Maybe he snuck in one day and planted it or by divine grace was invited to your home(Do not invite him). Regardless of when or how he did and now he has access to endless possibilities. Today just so happened to be his lucky day.

We've had a long day, whether it was studying or going to work our tension and stress meter has hit its peak and we are looking for a release. What better way than to literally drain the stress out. We make our way to our bed after stripping off our clothes, it would be better to take a shower first but we are in no rush for practicality right now. We take a deep breath and lean down to our bed-end chest unlocking it to reveal our menagerie. Wrapped in silk we have our... personal tools. (You can choose your weapon). We then make our way onto the bed. Taking another deep breath we make contact. A whirling feeling of sensation enters our body and we can feel the tension begin to slip away.

Our imagination begins to swirl like the pleasure between our legs and before we can muster up a more appropriate fantasy- he enters our mind. That creepy motherfucker always lurking around... but it's kinda sexy how much he wants us- no god! We can't help it, it's like all our subconscious thoughts are coming to the service. Would he be a good lover? Would he be feral? he's so tall and lean I wonder how big his cock- he's so creepy and he's always there its like he's planted himself inside of our brain.

It starts low in a whisper, "(his name)," and works its way up into a command, "(his name) right there!" through this fantasy, we reach a release not knowing who's on the other end.

He's listening and he can't believe what he's hearing. It's too good to be true. You're calling for him. Cumming to him- for him( At least in his head). His nerves are vibrating, his heart is pulsing, he's throbbing. The voices in his head are thrumming and the beast of his love and obsession is clawing at his soul with its talons. his eyes are rolling back in his head and his hand is in his pants before he knows what he's doing.