#takuma ino x f!reader

[gojodickbig]

When they steal your panties

<3 incl: gojo, toji, sukuna, geto, ino, shiu.

my asks are open for more ideas and requests. also reblogs are really appreciate. :)

have fun reading!💘

cont: crack, suggestiveness.

MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI !!

© gojodickbig on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not cross-post, translate, copy in any way, etc.

[kamiversee]

Can You Handle It? ꨄ

[ { Synopsis } ] ➤ You were supposed to be waiting on someone else but teasing the cheeky bartender was far too much fun. It’s so cute how he thinks he could handle you.

[ { Need to know } ] ➤This is a What-If scenario that stems from my fic; The F*ck List— A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt.

[ { Content & Warning } ] ➤ f!reader, dirty talk, language, smut, etc.

[ { Paring } ] ➤ Ino Takuma x f!reader.

[ { Word Count } ] ➤ 4.1k

Ino doesn’t seem to understand what exactly you mean by that and his brows furrow, “You caught my attention, and yet this is my first time talking to you.” He points out.

Almost naturally, as if you’d grown accustomed to flirting, your gaze trails back over to the cute bartender and you smirk, words slipping out of your mouth without thought, “I’ve caught your attention? How so?” You ask, unintentionally adding a sultriness to your tone.

He gulps and his eyes avoid yours yet again, “I mean you are an attractive woman. S-So I just mean it in that you catch more people’s eye than you think. A-And uh, y’know, not everyone’s gonna approach you first because sometimes attractive people make others nervous…” He stammers out.

He’s so ridiculously nervous and it’s the cutest thing. You lift your head from your hand and cross your arms over the counter, leaning forward a little and your chest unknowingly growing more visible as you do so, “Am I making you nervous right now, Ino?” You whisper.

Okay, now you’re purposefully teasing him.

He chuckles, kinda awkwardly, “N-No? Pfft… I’m not nervous. Y-You-,” He clears his throat, “You’re not making me nervous.”

You raise but a single brow and keep your gaze on him, “You can’t even look me in the eyes while we talk.”

Ino suddenly looks at you, meeting your unwavering gaze and sweating a bit. “I’m lookin’ at you now.”

You stare long and hard, right into those brow irises of his and he tries to stare back but, he can’t help but glance to the left or right for a split second before trying to keep his eyes on yours.

A slow and taunting smile spreads across your features, “Barely.” You point out.

He rolls his eyes and sighs, “Whatever. I wasn’t nervous I’m jus’ not good with eye contact.”

You tilt your head at him and narrow your eyes, “That’s not true.”

“Eh?” Ino’s brows push together, “How are you gonna’ tell me…” He says with a pout.

You giggle, “You manage eye contact with everyone else just fine.”

He moves for a nearby empty glass someone’s placed down, and glances at you as he does so, “So you’ve been paying attention to me, then?”

Of course, your eyes have hardly left his. It’s fun teasing someone like this, “A bit, yeah.”

Ino moves with the empty glass to place it with other dirty ones, humming a little nervously, “Oh…” As he does so. Then, you watch him pick up a clean glass and move to make a new drink right in front of you.

“Is that okay?” You murmur. Your voice has this purposeful flirtiness to it and it does not go unnoticed, “Am I allowed to pay attention to you, Ino?”

He gulps, “Course’ you can.”

Your eyes drop to the glass in his hands as he pours alcohol into it and you smirk, “Ino…”

His gaze flicks to your face for a moment, “H-Hm?”

“You’re shaking.” You point out.

Ino nearly fumbles the glass in his hand entirely and you watch him miss the cup for a moment, a bit of the liquid he’d been pouring trickling onto his hand and then the floor, “Shit,” He curses.

You chuckle slightly at first, earning a little pouty glare from the man. 

Then as he goes to clean up you hear him mumbling to you, “That’s not funny…”

Your chuckling proceeds to elevate into genuine laughter, “Yeah it is,” You snicker, “You’re adorable, holy fuck.”

Ino’s face is a little red as your words hit his ears and he drops down to clean the mess on the floor. After which, he pops right back into your line of vision, seeing you still laughing at him and pouting yet again.

“I am not ‘adorable’,” Ino grumbles.

You giggle, “Yes, you are.”

He shakes his head and sighs in this sassy kinda way, “Am’ not.”

“Are too,” You argue.

His eyes meet yours and despite being embarrassed, he’s got a little smile back on his face, “Nuh-uh.”

You nod, “Yuh-huh.”

Ino then rolls his eyes, still smiling, before he puts all the items he had in his hands down to the side. You then watch one hand drop down into his pocket before his phone is pulled out. Ino unlocks the device and then places it in front of you, sliding it closer to you with an empty contact slot on the screen.

“Put your number in here,” He sighs, smoothly requesting your contact info like it’s nothing.

You raise a brow, “Are you asking for it or are you demanding it?”

Those almost innocent brown eyes of his trail over to yours and he holds eye contact for a longer moment, “I’m asking. I like talking to you so, can I get your number?”

“Hmmm…” You hum playfully, purposefully taking your time to answer, “Is this to be friends or something more?”

He’s still looking you in the eyes, “Uh, friends? I’m not sure I could even handle a woman like you.”

You raise a brow, “Wanna’ find out?”

He blinks and then gulps, “F-Find out how?”

“I think you know how…” You say suggestively.

This look flashes in Ino’s eyes and he finally picks up on your hints, “I… I have a break in twenty minutes…”

“Twenty minutes?” You repeat, leaning forward a little. His gaze flicks down to your chest for hardly even a second, “Are you really gonna’ make me wait that long?”

He swallows and then forces his gaze back up to yours, “I mean, w-we can’t do anything right now…”

“Fair point.” You shrug.

“But,” Ino adds on, “Just so that we’re on the same page here…. During my break, we are gonna…” He sends you a look but doesn’t finish his statement.

Your lips curve into a smirk, “Gonna what?”

“You know…” He hints, clearly too shy to just say it.

“Mmmh, no. I don’t know. What’re we gonna do, Ino?”

The man sighs and then gets closer to the bar, placing his hands on it and leaning toward you to whisper, “Fuck.” He says, his voice barely audible.

His closeness gives you the opportunity to raise your hand to his shirt and carefully tug him even closer, leaning to his ear, “Say that again f’me,” You murmur seductively, “I couldn’t hear you.”

Ino’s heartbeat is all over the damn place and he swallows really hard, “We… We’re gonna’ fuck, r-right?”

You release his shirt and carefully move your hand to his jaw, slowly turning his head to face you. Ino’s breath hitches as your lips nearly touch his.

“Are we?” You murmur, your breath hitting his skin and making him so ridiculously nervous.

He nods, “Uh-huh….” Ino mumbles, too stunned to form words just yet.

You pout a little, mocking his nervousness, “Use your words, Ino…”

His cock twitches within the confines of his boxers and he nearly chokes on the air that’s hardly making it to his lungs, “Y-Yeah, yes ma’am.”

You bite your lip and then release his face, “Good boy.”

His eyes widen and just like that, his dick is stiffening beneath his clothes. A shaky breath of air leaves his lips as he backs away and tries to collect himself.

Ino’s face was red and you saw how awkwardly he was moving around the bar, going to collect other empty glasses as your words and actions replayed in his mind.

A few minutes later, his back was to you and he wiped down a farther part of the counter, still trying to pull himself together. His slightly veiny hands were clammy as he completed his task, showing just how nervous you’d made him.

When the male turns back around, he sees that you’ve gotten up and he watches your hips sway as you make your way toward the restroom. For a moment, you turn your head back and look at Ino, winking at him and again making him flustered.

He was so ready for his break to come after that, moving to make sure everything was okay before the time came. The male doesn’t even typically go on his break since he enjoys his job but, he is allowed an hour off, one in which another bartender would take his place for the time being.

As soon as twenty minutes had passed and it was time for his break, he was rushing from behind the counter and through the building, toward the bathrooms. He’d seen this exact scenario play out plenty of times with other people but as for himself, he’d only done this once before and that was with an old girlfriend of his.

His blood was rushing and racing through his veins, cock leaking at the thought of you, your voice, and the sexy look in your eyes, and he was outside the bathroom before he realized it. Ino knocked on the door with a slightly shaky hand, hearing your voice from behind it prompting his entry.

He opened the door carefully, trying to collect his thoughts as he did so, and was soon met with the sight of you. As Ino pushed the door closed behind him and locked it, his eyes were all over the way you were leaning forward against the counter, looking at yourself in the mirror.

There was this arch in your back and the curve of your ass was so damn enticing that he could feel his entire body getting dizzy with arousal. He needed to return to his normal state, y’know, like how he was earlier when he flirted with you subtly. Yeah, that’s all he needed to do-

“Just gonna stand there and stare?” Your voice hit his ears so suddenly, pulling him from his panicked mind.

Clearing his throat, Ino took a deep breath and walked over to you. He was behind you and you found it kinda’ cute how he tries to take control, placing a hand on the counter beside your waist, his arm making light contact with you as he does so, and then placing another hand on your lower back gently.

“Sorry,” Ino hums, his voice is slightly deeper. “I didn’t make you wait too long, did I?” He murmurs, his voice close to your ear.

You chuckle and relax your body a bit, purposefully pushing your ass back against the man, “No, it wasn’t too long.”

Ino grunts softly and you watch him in the mirror as he looks down at the way you’re pushing back on him. After that, he doesn’t even try to look up. Your ass was rubbing back against him so nicely, the bulge in his pants felt even through his baggy clothing.

You let out a sigh, “Ino… you’re hard already?” You point out teasingly.

He swallows and nods in a needy manner, “M-Mhm… Shit…” The man curses, moving his hands to ghost your hips, “Can I… is it okay if I touch you here?” He requests.

The sound of consent has never been sexier, his question alone making you lean your torso forward and then hold yourself up on your elbows, arching your back even more before humming a simple, “Mhm.”

Ino releases a breath of air he didn’t know he was holding in and you feel his slim fingers press into your hips as he bites his lip watching you grind back against him. “Fuck…” He sighs, the sound shaky with arousal.

You hold in a smile as you continue, watching his cute face twist up in the mirror as you continue your ministrations. At some point, his lips part and you watch his brows twist up as he tries to grind into you.

The teasing of the situation was so damn hot. You liked seeing how flustered and needy Ino was for you, noticing how his eyes just couldn’t leave the way your ass looked pressed up against his dick print.

“I’m… hah… I’m gonna’ push this up,” Ino tells you, referring to the end of your dress, “S’that okay?”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” You say in a soft tone.

He liked how light your voice was, how clearly aroused you were based on your tone alone. It drove him crazy.

Ino moved his hand to the fabric of your dress, tugging the item up and revealing the full curve of your ass. The slight whine that leaves his pretty lips turns you on more than you already were, watching the way he gulps as he peers down at the sexy lace that’s between him and your sex.

Before he could do more, you were pushing your hips back again, feeling his hard cock poking through his clothing and rubbing up against you. The sensation made you so damn wet.

Ino chuckles nervously, “Damn… I… m’so fuckin’ hard… fuck…” He mumbles.

You smile briefly before moving into this slutty arch for the man, his eyes widening as he gulps loudly. Ino then watches you part your legs a bit more and he stifled a moan as he unconsciously humps into you.

“Ino,” You whisper, “Are you gonna cum from this?”

His face is red and his eyes won’t leave the way your ass just ruts back into him, his hands on your hips growing tighter as he humps his erection into you. Nodding, Ino’s jaw drops a little, “Uh-huh…”

You bite your lip and sensually wiggle your hips, “Really?”

“I… Hold on, I c-can…” He moves a bit, unzipping his pants and letting them fall as he’s left in his briefs. Ino looks up to your face in the mirror, “Can I… uhm…”

“Get it out…” You whisper teasingly.

He looks down, avoiding your eyes, “Can I rub my cock against you?” Ino asks, his voice small and hardly even audible.

You chuckle at how shy he is to say such lewd words, reaching a hand back and pulling your panties to the side, revealing your wet state to the man’s eyes. “Beg for it,” You say.

Cum dribbles out the tip of his dick, making the inside of his boxers slightly sticky and wet, “B-Beg?”

“Mhm, if you want to feel me then be a good boy and beg,” You instruct.

Ino steadily works his leaky member out and swallows hard, “P-Please? Look h-how hard I am for you…”

You smile, “Keep going…”

“Hah…” Ino breathes, moving his hand over his tip as he stares at your sex, he’s so close to you he can almost feel it, “Please? Please? F-Fuck, I… m’so f-fucking… mmgh… please?” He whines.

You bite your lip and slowly push your hips back, his hand moving to the base of his cock as he then feels your wet folds part around the tip of his cock. Ino moans at the feeling, the sound whiney and furthering your arousal.

“T-Thank you, a-ah…” He whines, “S-Shit…”

The man then tries to focus himself back on what he’s doing and he rubs his tip in between your folds, the teasing feeling working you up more than ever. You wanted him inside you just as bad. Ino then pushes forward a little but not inside of you, he moves so that your cunt slicks against his shaft, the feeling making his eyes flicker.

“S-So wet-,” He chokes out, simply running his cock against your entrance and feeling you soak up his length.

You try your best to keep a moan in, “Ino… put it in…”

He looks at your reflection, seeing how flush your face is and feeling dick twitch at the sight. “Y-Yes ma’am…”

The man then repositions himself slightly and you begin to feel him ease his way inside you, his size bigger than you anticipated it to be and making your eyes flicker.

Your head drops a little as you let out a shaky breath, “Oh fuck…”

“A-Are you okay?” Ino murmurs, almost as if his cock isn’t stretching you open ever so slightly, “S-Should I-”

“Keep goin’,” You breathe out.

He nods and continues to ease his cock into your tight hole, feelings your warm and moist walls clamp around his shaft before he unconsciously snaps his hips forward.

Your jaw drops a bit, “F-Fuck-,” You moan, feeling Ino shift his hand to the arch of your back as he leans forward a bit.

Ino was just shy a few seconds ago, and he still is but, for someone so timid– his dick is bigger than you were expecting. His size wasn’t anything crazy compared to your… other experiences, but it was definitely more than you were expecting. 

One of your hands goes back as you move to grip onto the edge of the counter to balance yourself. Ino again takes you by surprise and his hand suddenly goes to your arm that just went back, grabbing ahold of it and moving to pin it down against the counter.

Another moan slips past your lips as his entire demeanor changes a bit– Ino’s got one hand pressed into your arch and the other is pinning your arm down as he draws his hips back and snaps them forward moments later, working up a rushed and eager pace.

“Fuckk,” Ino moans from behind you, “You feel s’good,” He mumbles, “So. F-Fuckin’. Good.” Each word is emphasized with a harsh thrust of his cock, his tip grazing a spot inside you that makes your eyes flicker.

Your jaw drops a little, “H-Hahhh… r-right there,” You whine in desperation.

“Yeah?” Ino coos, brows twisting up in pleasure as he adjusts himself for you, “Right there, huh?”

Your cunt squeezes around his cock and he moans filthily into the air, the desperate sound bouncing off of the bathroom walls. Then he tries to focus on you and your pleasure, continuing that angled thrust of his as he looks up and at the mirror in front of you two.

The expression on your face was everything to the man— he’d never be able to forget such a thing. Your eyes would flicker every time his cock slid into you and a sexy moan would pour out of your mouth with each of his thrusts. That, along with the occasional whine of his name, made Ino so very dizzy.

Your pussy sucked him in like a goddamn vice, forcing him in deeper every time he’d pull out. His hips wouldn’t stop at some point and he doesn’t even think his thoughts were coherent anymore. So fucked out, Ino’s jaw just drops at some point and he starts groaning and moaning into the air without holding back.

His sounds were so arousing too, each noise going straight to your core and leading you to start pushing your hips back to meet his thrusts. After which he leans back just a little and looks down at the sight, tugging his shirt up to his mouth and holding it in between his teeth as he watches his cock disappear inside you.

Your ass bounced back against his pelvis and made his brows twist up again, his hand moving almost on instinct just to smack your ass, grinning slightly to himself at the recoil that follows.

Huffing, his shirt falls out of his mouth and he’s got this little smile on his face, “God damn,” Ino groans out behind you, his hips picking up in rhythm to match the way your own fucked back against him.

The heavy clash of his pelvis into your ass could’ve been heard by anyone outside the bathroom door but the two of you were all too caught up in what you were doing to care. Ino moves to hold his shirt up with one hand and the other goes to the counter as he leans forward a bit.

His eyes won’t leave the sight below, completely dazed by your movements and how well they matched his— then there was the constant tug of his cock deeper into you that left him panting.

When he does eventually flick his gaze up to the mirror again, your face catches his attention once more and he leans even closer, cock drilling deep into your walls as his lips near your ear.

“You’re so fuckin’ pretty like this,” He suddenly compliments and god it makes your stomach churn. Since when was his voice so smooth? Where the hell did he gain this sudden confidence from-, “Look at’cha… y’sound so cute moaning my name like that,” Ino whispers to you before there’s a sudden arm wrapping around you and a hand grabbing a hold of your face.

He forces you to look at the mirror ahead and you catch sight of how intently he’s looking at you, watching sweat drip down from his forehead and to his jawline, his eyes low and locked on the side of your face. Then his jaw drops a little and Ino moans right into your ear.

You let off a sweet little whine and your eyes roll back a bit as he starts shifting your head to turn to face him. The angle was almost awkward at first but the second you meet his eyes and tune in to the heavy breaths leaving his moist lips— you quickly lose all sense of thought.

“Shit,” Ino hums, “You’re so hot,” He babbles out, hips bucking into you wildly as he pays close attention to how your face twists up in pleasure, “Can… fuck-, can I kiss you?”

All fucked-out and dazed, you flash a little smile and nod. Then his lips are pressing into yours and both of you are whining into each other’s mouths. Ino’s lips were so wet and slippery against yours as he began to pull your body up with his to stand slightly.

Then he’s moving his free hand around you and dropping it down to your clit, fingers swatting at the sensitive bud with ease. You let out a whimper against him and he pulls away with a slim string of saliva hanging in between your lips.

Ino’s eyes are down on your mouth and his brows are tense, “C’mon, cum f’me, pretty.” He whispers, “I got you…”

Yeah, yup, you were cumming. Who the hell told him to be so gentle with you all of a sudden? And again, where did he get this confidence from?

Oh who cares, you can’t really ponder on all of that for too long as your legs tense up and your body squirms in his hold, those pretty brown eyes of his never once leaving yours. He watches as you come undone, his heavy pants hitting your face every now and then as your orgasm helps him to reach his own.

And you felt it coming too, his cock twitching inside you while his thrusts grew sloppy and his pants turned into quiet whispers and whines of your name. A slight chant of you feel s’good leaves his lips as he grows closer and closer before you see his eyes roll all the way back and he quickly pulls out of you.

Then he moans into the air and you allow yourself to bend over the counter again, his hand moving to his cock as he takes that as an opportunity to cum on your ass. It was messy but you didn’t care and Ino seemed to be in heaven as he did so.

When he finds himself done, you and he both take a minute or two to catch your breaths before you both move to clean up. Ino’s quick to help you clean yourself before worrying about himself, wiping his mess off of you and even asking if you were okay a few times.

Part of you wanted to address that little switch-up of his and how he went from begging you to put his cock inside you to telling you how pretty you are while taking it… But, ultimately, you don’t say anything about it and just smile to yourself.

Ino soon notices the little grin on your face and he tilts his head at you, “I take it I… did a good job?”

Your brows lift and your eyes light up a little, “Yeah, you did a good job.”

“Really?” He hums, swallowing hard as his face heats up at your praise. Then his eyes darted elsewhere, “I’m glad.”

“Mhm,” You hum before shifting your dress around a little and leaning toward him, “We could do this again after you get off of work if you want…”

His head quickly turns to you, “We can?”

“Yes, Ino, we can,” You say softly.

He nods and starts to turn away from you but you don’t miss how he does a quiet little yes! motion with his arm, smiling to himself as if he’d just won some kinda prize. That makes you giggle as you walk behind him and toward the door to leave.

You can indulge yourself in this cute bartender a bit more with no problems, right?

tags;

@blognicole @suguruologist @luqueam @ivoryviness @sinaxalui @rxnnie18 @carlacujo @gods-landing @bitchysouljellyfish @miles4hour @sinaxalui @annananamin @heart-snow @kiyomizzx @hanuh @acehyacinth @mccookiemonster @tojis-ball-sack @cartwheel6869 @mariluvsusstuff @addie1010 @slammynics @actualz0mbie @hisbitchhh @kay-xle @cunttee3 @voids-universe @raininglovelyfire @itsbokutosjuicyass @peaceoutbritta @barbielani @gennaray @r3inae @kfmcykdy @camiihutt @tokina @curtin81937 @hopefullydecent @nameless-shade @ureuphoriasworld @forgetfulmachine @legbouk @lilliaannn @clementineee0-0 @divinelseraph @didibxx

[cheralith]

vogue (chapter two) — boss/fashion designer!geto suguru x reader ; REASONS

series synopsis ; even without much knowledge in the world of fashion, you decide that it's in your best interest to work for the country's fashion magazine powerhouse to propel your career as a journalist. however, you begin to second-guess your decision when you're faced with the grueling labor of its one and only editor-in-chief who expects nothing less of perfection. can your efficiency meet his standards or will you be out the door before you can even blink? masterlist

contains ; editor-in-chief!geto, fashion designer!geto, assistant!reader, assistant turned muse!reader, platonic roommate!ino, modern au, angst, slowburn, co-workers-to-lovers, some crack if you squint

chapter synopsis ; it's chaos at kaizen magazine and the entirety of its staff, including its editor-in-chief is stressed. you meet a particular individual at the coffeehouse who seems all too the familiar for some reason whose strange words encourage you to dabble in the world of modelling in a desperate moment.

chapter tags/warnings; she/her pronouns, afab!reader, blood mention (reader gets mild cut on finger), reader models but no mention of body descriptions, some parts not edited

chapter word count: 8.9k

now playing ; reasons - minnie riperton

↩ previous chapter next chapter ↪

Somehow, you think that your boss has it out for you more than usual this week. Granted, he’s been giving you a stink eye at all times since you first started, but you’re getting the gut feeling it’s more prominent this time around. Be it the upcoming charity gala tomorrow or the stress of pushing out this month’s issue due to some last minute… adjustments—you wouldn’t be surprised if Geto is using you as his punching bag for his own relief. 

He has never yelled at you, per se, but his soft-spoken insults and scoldings hurt you far more than anything. Whether it be you stumbling ever so slightly over your own two feet in front of him or something as miniscule as simply accidentally taking out a pen that’s lacking ink when jotting notes, Geto always seems to have some sort of reprimand at the ready. 

“Why is this packet stapled so awkwardly? You could be covering vital information.”

“Coffee spoons exist for a reason. There’s no reason why I should be using a dessert spoon for my latte.”

“I do wish you spoke with less ‘um’s and ‘uh’s every now and then. It’s quite bothersome.”

You just wish that the job application had listed “Must take on editor-in-chief’s emotional baggage 24/7.” if you knew that this job would just be mentally draining as it is physically. And to think it’s only been only around four and a half months since you’ve started! Obviously, being editor-in-chief of one of the largest and powerful magazines in the nation is going to be mentally depleting, but is there such a need to take it out on the poor associates? 

Your mind reflects back to witnessing an intern accidentally running into Geto amidst last night’s crisis when the office was busy about attempting to piece together the issue into one piece before the publisher’s deadline today, the intern’s impact causing a confetti of cut-out paper to fly about everywhere and making Geto’s afternoon matcha pick-me-up splatter green all over his cream white top. He had gently told the shaking intern, amidst his many apologies, that it was no worries before quietly telling you to head down to HR to terminate him by the end of this week. 

Chills run down your spine when you remember how quickly Geto’s smile faded and gentle eyes disappeared as they morphed into amethyst daggers the moment his back was turned to the intern. Though… you do give credit to the intern for making his shirt still somehow look fabulous with the earthy green splatter—a feat only a former fashion model was able to do. 

You don’t remember when the last time you came home before 11:00pm was or when was the last time you ate three complete meals in a day and not just crumbs of convenience store snacks. It’s been such a hectic week wrapping up the month’s issue that you’re suddenly back to your college days slurping ramen and drinking any drink that contains any amount of caffeine to give back your energy. 

You hear the beep of the microwave sing through the kitchen right next to yours and Manami’s desks, signaling your instant ramen was done, but before you can even get up, you hear the muffled sound of a something being broken inside Geto’s office, causing you and Manami to jump. Gazes suddenly flicking toward each other, with neither of you daring to make another move, a moment of complete silence drifts by before you dare to breathe out ever so quietly and almost instantaneously, Manami shouts, “Not it!” 

“Not—oh, fine…” A groan drags out of you and your eyes roll as you brush off the prideful look Manami has on her face. 

With great hesitation, you avert your direction to the frosted glass window of Geto’s office that sits a little too politely between you and Manami’s desks. Somehow, with each step you take, the impending doom that sits at the bottom of your churning stomach grows bigger and bigger and you can just barely brace yourself for the scolding that you’re about to receive—even if the cause of Geto’s frustration may have not even been at your own fault.

Your shaking knuckles go to rap at his door. A grumbled “come in” barely seeps its way through the door. You allow yourself with great reluctance to open the door to reveal a heavily breathing Geto Suguru, veins visible on his neck and forehead from the pent-up irritation that has been boiling for the past few days with the double whammy of the charity gala and the month’s issue attempting to be push out on time, which may not even be the case given that many columns had to be changed due to a specific supermodel’s recent scandal.

Upon entering your boss’s office, it was near impossible to miss the shattered glass of cucumber water that was clearly thrown at the wall behind himself, a splotch of the carpet now darkened slightly from the original color. Geto caved inwards towards his desk, his blazer from his three-piece set now draped messily over his chair and his usually neatly-made hair a little more frazzled out of its hair band than usual. On his desk were an array of magazine splits with a pile of cut-outs dedicated to said model. It startles you how many pages she had appeared in given how hefty the pile was.

“Why couldn’t she behave after the issue was printed…” Geto seethes under his breath as a poor page of the magazine draft crumples under his grip. 

You can see in his trash can the tabloid that featured the supermodel, who allegedly slandered her fellow upcoming star of a colleague backstage of a recent fashion show with the cameras still rolling in order to document the behind the scenes of all the glitz and glamour. While it was normal for models to shade one another to fight for the spotlight, her remarks in particular were rather nasty and brutish, so much so that it caused outrage amongst the public and with the latter supermodel’s fans who ended up revealing her rather… dishonorable social media presence. 

Needless to say, having her as the starlight of this month’s issue before it entered the public eye would prove disastrous for Kaizen. She decorated a large portion of the magazine from front cover to back, but the magazine couldn’t afford to have such a trashy person as their graphic ambassador—especially since there has been little to no dirt on the magazine up until now. Geto works hard to make sure any possible slander against the magazine was dealt with as soon as possible before the public could hear about it. You didn’t know how—preferably, you don’t want to know—but he does it somehow.

But the news and the outrage regarding the supermodel had been leaked only a mere eight days before the issue was to be printed, giving the entire department only eight days to fix up the issue before the deadline. To make matters worse—the issue had to be sent to the publisher before the charity gala, which were both on the same day, Friday, meaning that everything had to be finalized before 3pm that day to give ample time for the start of the gala’s last-minute organization at 5:00pm before it started at 7:30pm and for the publishing company to print the thousands of copies to be released to the city come Saturday morning.

It’s Thursday, the day before D-Day, and the office just reached noon. You have yet to eat properly, given that all you ate this morning amidst the morning rush (Geto demanded asked you to arrive at the office an hour earlier to compose the most time to work on the issue) were two pieces of toasted bread and a badly-made cup of instant coffee. 

You stare at the broken crystal on the dampened floor before going back to get the dustpan from the kitchen. Without a word, you clean up the remnants of Geto’s frustration quietly so as to not poke the beast even further with one wrong move, but of course, you somehow end up slicing your finger on a stray piece of glass. 

A loud yelp from your lips slips through the tight atmosphere of Geto’s office and blood draws fast, so fast that a few drops of crimson fall and miserably stain the pristine white carpet.

You swiftly poke your finger in your mouth and suck on it before more can ooze out, but unfortunately, your little titter was enough to break Geto out of his trance and snap his head back towards you. He spots the splotches of red on his carpet first, but then averts his gaze to you with your fingertip between your lips.

“What happened?” he urges as he approaches you. “Did you cut yourself?” 

You nod shyly, a little startled at how quickly his concern for you came to him given that your presence usually arises some sort of mild vex from him. “I apologize for staining the carpet. I’ll get a cleaner right away for it.”

“No need,” Geto mutters before beginning the dust the glass remnants himself. “I’ll call them myself. Just fix yourself up. First-aid kit is in the kitchen. Go get a bandaid—quickly.” 

For a split second, you swear you could’ve seen a grain of sympathy in his normally-cold gaze, but the illusion quickly dissipates the moment you see his eyes harden again before he snaps at you for staring. 

“Go now. Before your finger gets infected. You can’t use your hand properly with an infected finger.”

Biting the inside of your cheek, you nod lightly and dash out of his office, fighting horribly the urge to mutter curses at him under your breath. 

The cut proves rather long and deep, you notice, as Manami gently rolls a strip of tape down a page of gauze on it as she chides you akin to a mother to take care of yourself properly and that this isn’t the week to be injuring yourself like a child. It takes up at least two-thirds of your right index finger and you’re just hoping you’ll be able to use your right hand as efficiently as possible given you still have an extensive list of emails to still send out. 

Two hours somehow pass by quicker than expected but you know that your actual day isn’t even halfway done, knowing well that you won’t be clocking out until later in the evening after everyone is gone from the office. For the most part, it looks as though some spare stock images of well-known models were able to suffice the pieces that the scandalous one left them in the columns, but there was one that needed a more specific set of poses given that it was a perfume ad and unlike the other columns, the bottle had to be held in a certain manner that would prove hard for the photo editors to attempt.

Given that the work day was ending, there weren’t many models on-call that could do a last-minute shoot on time and the magazine was running out of time. Geto… was running out of time. 

And if Geto, who was known for being rather cool-headed and rational most days, was stressed, that only meant the rest of the office had to follow—whether they liked it or not. Ultimately, his stress became infectious and it was hard to keep a mellow mind in the days filled with chaos. You were already stressed on a day-to-day basis being his junior assistant, but you were basically required to amp it up to the max with the last-minute editing of the magazine and the charity gala.

You’re in line to get Geto’s afternoon pick-me-up, with the minor adjustment of two extra espresso shots for the kick of caffeine to get him through the rest of the working hours. You can hear your name being called up, but with how drained you’ve been from the past few days, the granola bar and Redbull you had for lunch today proves not to be the most efficient source of energy and you end up tumbling over your own two wobbling legs when you rise from the waiting bench.

You crash into the chest of someone taller than you who was passing by and just barely manage to avoid the escaping coffee from the cup of the person you bumped into. Unfortunately, it doesn’t prove well for the latter, as the remainder of the coffee settles itself on the front of their shirt Panic sets in swiftly and you start bumbling apologies left and right before you can even look up to see who exactly you’re apologizing to.

When you do, you’re met with a pair of eyes hidden behind darkened sunglasses ogling at you. It struck you as rather odd—considering it was the middle of winter and that the sun was hiding behind the grayed clouds today. Maybe it was just some sort of fashion statement? 

But it’s not the glasses that captivate you. It’s the snowy locks of white hair that belong to a rather tall and leggy figure that belong to it. And despite the pure ivory, he still looks incredibly young. A man of at least six feet and three inches stands before you—a height that easily can rival your boss’s. He’s adorned in a simplistic outfit; black dress shoes with matching slacks held by a glimmering silver buckle, topped with a cool white collared shirt that’s now evidently ruined by the horribly large light brown stain you caused from his coffee.

And judging by the stitching and material of the shirt, you know damn well that the shirt isn’t cheap.

“I-I-I…” you blubber out, teary eyes widened in horror at how fast the stain spreads and how much attention you’re getting from the cafe’s customers. “I’m so sorry…”

The silence that penetrates through from onlookers is terrible and you think you’re getting a fever from how hot your face is burning up. 

Thankfully, the man breaks through it with a soft, (dare you say—handsome?) laugh. “I was looking for an excuse to get rid of this shirt anyways,” he says. “Don’t worry ‘bout it.”

What he says baffles you and your apologies suddenly transform into sounds of confusion to his amusement. “Huh?”

“It’s been two years since it was in season, it’s finally time to throw the old girl out,” the man shrugs nonchalantly.

Suddenly, in front of all the leering eyes of the customers in the coffeehouse, he begins to unbutton his stained shirt and you can only watch in horror with the rest of everyone else. While he still did have one last modest garment beneath the shirt, it was still a sleeveless white undershirt that showed off his visibly sculpted and lean biceps that made a couple of the women in the coffeeshop form heart eyes and bite their lips.

The man flickered his eyes, now shown to be a brilliant shade of crystal blue, to you from atop his glasses and a glint of playfulness shone through, along with a whimsical grin. “Maybe I should’ve been a little more decent. Hope you don’t mind.”

You think that the heat that flushes your cheeks is no longer from embarrassment but… bashfulness?

You attempt to gather what to say in this rather awkward moment, but the bell of the entrance door rings and in comes a young man with spiked noir locks adorned in a midnight blue suit with a visible frown on his face. His eyes skitter through the coffeehouse before landing on not exactly you… but the man before you.

“What the hell Gojo?” the young man scolds as he stomps his way over. “You said you weren’t gonna take long, so why are you stripping in a cafe?”

Gojo… why does that name sound so familiar for some reason? Now that you think about it, the entirety of the man himself seems so vaguely familiar, but you swore you’ve never seen such a unique human being before in real life.

The man turns his head over as he crumples the stain garment in his hands. He perks up in delight at the sight of him, contrary to his furrowed-brow companion. “Megumi! Sorry bud, got wrapped up in a little accident here. Take this and chuck it in the trash, will ya?”

Before “Megumi” can protest, “Gojo” tosses the shirt to him and exclaims for the onlooking baristas to make him another drink if they can. A teenage girl nods excitedly and dashes back to gather the order for the handsome, sleeveless stranger. 

Megumi hisses an annoyed insult under his breath before glaring one last time at the taller man and searching for a nearby trash can. The man turns to you again with the same smile that has a lick of mischief to it. “Sorry ‘bout my intern. He’s usually a little sour, so don’t mind him. You okay though?” 

“Uh…” your eyes glance around and notice that the commotion in the coffeehouse has started up again. “Yes, thank you. I apologize again for not watching my step.”

He chuckles. “I think you’ve apologized enough. Again, don’t worry about it—it was an old shirt anyways. Has anyone told you you’re quite cute?” 

You choke on your saliva. What an odd thing to say in such a moment.

“Wh-what?” you stifle out.

“You’re rather pretty,” the man continues, the same grin still plastered on his face; as if he means every word he says. “Have you modelled before?” 

Your jaw is somehow melded into an image that replicates a gaping fish. Somehow, you can’t find the correct words to say at this moment. And it’s not quite like you’ve never been flirted with before, but for some reason, the way that this “Gojo” says it, it doesn’t quite have that tone of flattery, but more like… offering something?

“Thank you?” you say with half-confidence. “And no… sorry.” 

“Ah, what a shame,” he sighs wholeheartedly. “Have you considered it though?”

You shake your head, and you’re appalled that the gesture only makes his eyes light up again and his smile grow wider. 

“You should try it someday! You know what—hold on. Where’s my wallet?”

The man shoves his hands in his pants pockets to attempt to look for it, but the intern from earlier suddenly appears and shows off his phone to his senior. It visibly reads 2:34 pm.

“The meeting started,” the intern seethes. “We’re late… again.”

“Oh shoot,” the tall man snaps his fingers with pursed lips. “Alright, we can get going soon. But can you do me a favor and get my wal—”

The intern glowers at him. “No. Let’s go.”

You’re surprised at how much guts the intern has, who seems to be rather younger than you by a few years and certainly significantly younger than the man before you, considering he’s the one to command his superior so strictly. Usually, it’s the other way around, is it not? Unless you’re doing something wrong?

“Aw, but—”

“Gojo. If we’re late again, the board of trustees might kick you off, remember?” Megumi says as he pinches the back of his superior’s undershirt and begins to drag him away from you. 

The mysterious man pouts childishly and whines. “Ohhh c’mon! They’re not serious! You know those old geezers are practically terrified of me!” 

You’ve never seen such a grown man act rather foolishly before, but you suppose there’s a first time for everything. As you watch him be dragged away by the intern, he salutes a goodbye to you with an all-knowing wink to finish things off before he’s shoved into a black Cadillac in nothing but his undershirt for a top amidst the chilly winter air. 

As you attempt to process what on earth just happened, the young teenage barista calls at you suddenly. 

“Hey! Did that Michizane Sugawara guy leave? The one with the white hair?” she asks you, pointing to her own brown hair. She holds what looks to be milk with a hint of coffee in it, judging by how there’s just barely a tint of brown in the plastic cup.

“Oh… him.” 

Wasn’t his name Gojo? There’s no way you could’ve misheard “Michizane Sugawara” as “Gojo” you think, with the six other syllables just simply flying in from the window out of nowhere. Unless the fatigue has finally caught up to you and you’re hearing things wonky. 

“Yeah. It seemed like he was in a rush of sorts.” 

The barista leans over the counter to see and eventually shrugs. She pushes two cups towards you—your original coffee for Geto you nearly forgot about and the newly-made coffee for the mystery man. “You can just have it then. Not too sure you’ll like it though, it’s pretty sugary, but I don’t want it to go to waste.”

Your eyebrows perk up. With how much suffering you’ve been enduring lately from your work, you might as well indulge yourself in a sweet treat as you think you’ve earned it. Plus, with how much there is more to complete for today, you’re most definitely going to need the caffeine and the communal coffee pot isn’t exactly acquired for your tastebuds. 

When you finally settle yourself down back in the comfort of your desk after the coffeehouse fiasco, you take a soft sip of the free coffee…

… only to pull a face at how ridiculously sweet it is. The barista was right. You think that there’s probably only a drop of coffee in the entire cup melded with milk and a variety of syrups and sugar. And to think this was for a grown man? 

Sighing miserably, you pour the free drink down the kitchen drain, ignoring the glob of sugar that slugs out of it before you return back to misery.

“And there’s absolutely no models left that are in proximity to us? In any of our partnering agencies?” Geto asks as he rubs his temple.

The head of the PR team shakes his head, ashamed. “All of our current models are either abroad or they’re simply unavailable as of this moment.”

He mutters to himself before gritting his teeth. “And did you try bribing them with additional pay?” 

“We tried, sir,” the head says. “And with other compensation like a guaranteed column for next month’s column or brand partnerships, but they wouldn’t budge.”

Geto sighs loudly and slides a hand down his face in exasperation, fatigue visible. It’s currently 5:51pm and the magazine has yet to find a model to try and replace the perfume advertisement. The partnering modelling firms had absolutely no models to offer at the last minute and it was too late to try and get in contact with freelance models considering communication with them proved much more difficult than those in agencies. 

“What about recycling an older ad with a similar posed model and just photoshopping the fragrances out?” Geto suggests. 

It gets shot down immediately to his dismay. “Unfortunately, that’d be violating some copyright issues.”

You watch with fidgety hands as you stand next to Manami as your boss and the PR team examines the idea board carefully, trying ways to fill in the missing column. Of course, you could chime in with your own ideas, but with how stressed Geto is currently, you didn’t want to risk adding fuel to an already violent fire. 

Geto’s eyes scan the board left to right, taking in every single piece pinned onto it for some sort of genius idea, but nothing comes to him on the third try. A rigid silence fills the meeting room that keeps everyone on edge, anticipating his next move. When Geto finishes his fourth scan, in comes another blank page, until the corner of his eye catches you standing idly in the corner. 

His gaze moves to fixate on your squirming self as you attempt to look anywhere but his stare. It proves unsuccessful, however, considering that Geto calls your name and motions you to come forward.

Geto presents you like a doll of sorts to the PR team. “(Y/N) here seems to have similar proportions to her,” Geto says, keeping two firm, large hands on your shoulders. You shiver at the strange contact “What if we…?” 

One of the team members catches his drift uneasily.

“I don’t know Geto,” he starts as he stares at you incredulously, as if you’ve grown three heads all of a sudden. “Does your junior assistant even have any modelling experience?”

“Well no,” Geto confirms. “However, we’ve attempted to use all that we have available. I think this is our last resort.”

Somehow, you’re a little offended that your being is just simply a “last resort” to him, even if it is true. 

The PR team’s director's shifty eyes land on each of his team members with visible hesitation. With a cracked voice, he softly announces, “Well, technically speaking, there is… one more option.” 

Geto cocks his brow, his hands still firmly locked onto your shoulders with a whisper of a tighter grasp, as if you’re some sort of scurrying mouse ready to escape his hold at any given moment. “Well?”

The director’s mouth opens and closes for a given moment, attempting to choose the right words to say.

“Technically, we don’t have to use just our partnering agencies,” he begins quietly. There’s now a visible sweat misted on his receding hairline. 

The way Geto’s eyes narrow so suddenly makes everyone hold their breath for what comes next. Because, from the looks of it, everyone seems to know what the director is going to suggest and Geto’s reaction.

 “We’ve got contracts with every single management in the city. What? Are you saying we reach out to other cities’ talent managements? That’s rather tedious.”

“No, sir, that’s… not what I meant,” the director swallows thickly. “There’s technically one agency that we don’t have a con—”

“Absolutely fucking not.”

Geto’s stern words ring loud and clear. While his voice volume is still the same as always—soft with an obvious austere to it—his words are tight and evident. The emphasis of the curse word gives more than just a sharp edge to it, leaving no room for negotiation. 

Yet, one of the female team members pries anyway. She was hired around the same time you were, but because she didn’t interact with Geto as much as you did, so she didn’t know about how no meant an absolute no when it came from Geto Suguru just yet. Poor thing.

“But this agency has an abundance of models to choose from at their hand!” she exclaims with wide, desperate eyes. “I do think it’s a better decision to contact Infi—”

“I said no.” Geto turns to her and gives her a hard scowl before she can even finish her words. “Do not even say the name around my presence. I have forbidden any contact with that agency for a good reason. They only bring trouble and mayhem and disorder. Remember the Mei Mei scandal? The Kinji Hakari incident?” 

Everyone except for you tightens their shoulders and lips at the mention of the particular models. This isn’t the first time you’ve been kept in the dark, since you’re still just as a new hire as the female team member, but something is telling you that this news is much more hush-hush than the other gossip you’ve heard. Geto sighs again, their tensing bodies giving him a clear answer.

“We have done well without them for how long this magazine has existed for the past few years under my leadership,” Geto says. “I see no need to get in contact with them when we have a perfectly good substitute right here.”

His hands pat your shoulders again to properly show you off once more. The PR team goes to scan you up and down with their beady eyes, mutters of half-confident approvals and some other comments that you’re a little offset by rumouring around the meeting room. 

The director eventually sighs and gives in, considering that there weren’t many hours left in the day and that he and his team just wanted to go home. “Okay, we’ll use your junior assistant for the replacement shoot. We’ll tell Miguel, the photographer, and the fashion stylists to get ready for her.” 

Geto turns to Manami. “Go with them. Just ensure that the creative team will not cause a fuss with the choosing of the model. We don’t have time to dabble in feuds now.”

Manami nods and begins to lead the PR team to the studio, leaving you and Geto in the awkward quietness of the meeting room. Eventually, he releases you from his grasp and lets you breathe normally once they all leave. 

Geto leans on the table and returns to rubbing his forehead, muttering to himself at what he just did. You plant your stiff self back to your original position firmly.

“Sir,” you cough out with a voice crack with the lack of use from your voice. A heat rushes to your face and you clear your throat to properly speak. “Sir… I… don’t think I’m the right choice for this job.”

Geto lifts his head up from his hand and stares at you dully. “Excuse me?”

A shiver goes down your spine. Of course you forgot your consciousness and dared to question the Geto Suguru, editor-in-chief of the powerhouse fashion magazine in the country. But… even so. There were some limitations that you dared to even ponder about and though you were a lowly assistant, you still deserved to try and voice your own opinion on this matter. 

Especially since you’re going to be affected in more ways than one.

“I…” you start slowly. Your gaze meets the carpet of the room to try and ease yourself out of the intimidating stare of your boss. “I truly don’t think I’m the right fit for this particular feat. Like what they mentioned, I don’t have any modelling experience and I’m sure it’d cause the shoot to be more prolonged than it should be.”

“You don’t need modelling experience for this,” Geto begins. “I’m not asking you to be a model. I’m asking you to be a replacement.”

The familiar odd hurt singes at you again when Geto labels you as nothing more than a prop. Something about him shoving you in a magazine filled with well-experienced and trained models feels like cramming a piece of plain cardboard in a nearly-done puzzle, its individual pieces adorned carefully with each other to create something beautiful and ornate, only to be interrupted by a spare piece of something that just barely imitates it. You may have all the right curves and edges crafted by Geto’s hands, but you know that you don’t belong properly amidst the magazine at the end of the day.

The perfume ad takes up three pages of the entire magazine—two pages for the actual photoshoot and one for the description of it along with its reviews—not much in comparison to the articles written in it. But it’s still enough to composite a significant chunk for the magazine. And enough to make you feel overexposed to a public that in your rational mind, is not going to give you a second glance much more so than the actual product when reading the magazine. 

But right now, that unwanted attention is all you can think about. 

“But still—” you start with a tight throat. “Manami might be a better suit than I am. Or quite literally anyone in the office.” 

“Manami has been feeling under the weather as of recently,” Geto interrupts and shakes his head. “If we had more time, believe me, I’d be searching for a better fit for the ad as well, but right now, given the current predicament and since most of the employees have gone home, we don’t have many options left.”

Geto turns to you and though his face remains stony, his iris eyes gleam with a hint of desperation. 

“You’re my best choice right now, (Y/N).”

Time goes still for a moment and you can hear a voice echo in the back of your mind as Geto gazes at you. 

“Have you modelled before?” 

When you blink, a crystalline blue pair of eyes flashes through your vision all of a sudden. You step back a little, slightly startled at the hazy vision you have of the “Gojo” man from earlier and his proclamation to you.

The tone of the man’s voice echoes through your mind. In a typical male fashion, that sort of sentence would most likely be played off as a flirtatious intent. But the way that he said it made it seem like some sort of actual encouragement, like an urge of sorts for you. It felt genuine. Sincere, even, as if he wanted you to do it for no one but yourself. 

And though as of now, you’d technically be doing it for Geto… you can’t help but feel an urge just to try it to see how you yourself would like it. To see whether or not you’d actually fit into the mold of a “model”—even an amateur one. 

You suppose… that there’s a first time for everything.

Shuffling your feet, you swallow the last bit of qualms down and let most of your nerves go, choosing to settle in what could be as of this moment. Even if you’re not ready for it, you think you should at least try. 

And in the end, if not for Geto, perhaps for yourself.

You lift your head up and lock eyes with Geto’s with a more determined look on your face. The hesitation is still faintly there, but the ghost of it is overpowered by your resolve.

“Okay.”

“Alright, now peek your eyes over the newspaper a little bit, sweetheart! Make it playful!” the photographer chimes as he readjusts his position with his camera. 

The photoshoot set is a makeshift cafe, to properly highlight the coffee and sugar notes of the new fragrance you hold in your hand. The backdrop is a fake interior window of the cafe looking out into a winter wonderland. Makeup and clothing took awhile to prosper considering you had to take off your previous makeup and let the MUAs do their magic on you and that you had to test multiple layered clothing sets before the photographer approved of the final one appropriate for the shoot. It didn’t help that you put up a fight to keep your glasses on and that the MUAs had to attempt a look that would highlight your features with your glasses.

You can’t tell whether it’s the nerves of you modelling for the first time or the heat of the lights that’s making you flushed. Something about the flashes of lights felt almost exhilarating to you. It’s foreign, but somehow, they embrace your being like a long lost friend of sorts. You have yet to get used to the blinding white lights from the flashes, but you only have to endure it for a good hour or so. The repetitive mantra of “You’re just trying this out.” echoes in your mind over and over again, even though you already know you seem to not be cut out for this sort of position.

It’s much too hot in the studio, you feel your body being rather awkward, and you don’t appreciate the onlookers that watch your every move as you reposition yourself to the photographer’s demands. You’ve already knocked over a couple of fake cappuccino mugs since your limbs still aren’t working correctly and you can’t seem to make the right facial expression to your degree.

It’s clear your nervousness is evident, considering you can see Geto discussing quietly with the creative director as they examine you closely from the corners of your eyes. 

“She’s rather… stiff,” the creative director mutters. “You sure there wasn’t anyone on call?”

Geto hums monotonously as he watches as you attempt to find the right position to try and capture your side profile while showing off the perfume itself. “If there were, they would’ve been here by now.”

“Yes I understand, but,” the director fights the urge to wince as your bracelet gets caught in the chair handle. “I don’t know if this shoot will be proper enough to display in the zine this issue. Can’t we just talk with them and discuss moving the ad to next month’s?”

“No, they’re releasing it the same day the issue comes out. They want people to know about it as soon as possible,” Geto murmurs. “To ask that from us is to ask them to push back their release date.  We don’t have that sort of power.”

The creative director sighs and silences himself, wallowing himself in a state of doubt as he and Geto continue to watch the scene before them. Perhaps it’s the state of weariness that Geto has accumulated from the past few days, but he genuinely doesn’t think you’re doing too bad of a job for your first (and probably last time, given the anxiety still within you) time modelling. He thinks the angles of your face hit the light just right when it counts properly, and that the clothes that drape you fit you more than accordingly; it’s surprising given that there was no time to tailor them to properly suit you but somehow, you made it work.

There are certain moments that your nerves fade from view when the director asks you to make a certain facial expression. The little surprised face you make when you hold the perfume up to your face was most likely the money shot, but there were much more shots that could be used for the ad that he didn’t anticipate. 

There was one where your eyes stared directly into the camera from a three-fourths angle, a certain warmth to them compelling him to look further into you. Another one was a mild bokeh effect of you sipping coffee from a mug from a lower point of view, where the perfume was fully into view. But Geto was still somehow locked onto your figure from the background despite how crystal clear the bottle was. Either way, there was still a plethora of good shots to use despite you not being a professional model.

“But I do have to admit,” the creative director starts slowly, capturing Geto’s attention and breaking him from his gaze as he fixates on you repositioning yourself on the cafe bench, legs crossed to show off the mocha boots that adorned your calves. “She’s not really all that bad. I can see some potential in her.”

Geto’s body remains still, but his eyes shift to stare at the director from the corner of his eye, watching carefully as he examines you from the set. He narrows his purple eyes as he picks up on a mild lip bite from the creative director as you shed the trenchcoat to reveal a black fitted mini dress with a turtleneck, a vintage cowboy belt cinching your waist. While you’re still modestly covered, it’s the way you show off your long legs emphasized by the short skirt of the dress and the fitted heeled boots.

“I wonder if she’s single…” the director murmurs so softly that Geto just barely picks up on it.

“I completely forgot,” Geto interrupts rather loudly, making the director’s fixed stare falter as the shoot continues. “I believe I left a file in regards to the perfume’s licensing in the meeting room. Would you mind getting it for me? I’ll keep an eye on the shoot.”

The creative director’s brows raise. “O-oh! Yes, of course. I’ll be right back then.”

Geto watches as the director shuffles out of the room and out of view from you. Truth be told, the file was finalized a while ago. But something about how the director was looking at you made Geto wary of his intentions with you, if he had any at all.

Something about it made him a little aware that your temporary spotlight shone a bit brighter than he originally thought it’d be.

The shoot finishes up within the next hour, giving the team a good handful of images to choose from for the column before the issue is printed. Manami is with you in the dressing room as the MUAs carefully take off your makeup and reveal your raw face to everyone, peeling away the heavy amounts of concealer that hide the darkness embedding the rim of your undereyes.

“Christ, how many hours did you sleep last night?” she questions when you give a large yawn.

“I should be asking you that question,” you quietly remark back, studying her equally tired features. “If anything, you need the rest more than I do.”

Manami had been feeling quite ill as of recently, possibly due to the colder weather. She claimed that it was just the new diet she had been trying out to properly fit into the dress that she was planning to wear for the charity gala, but it was clear that no diet was capable of causing stuffy noses, consistent sneezing, and a mild fever. You had encouraged her to try and take some medicine and go home yesterday, but she specifically said that, “Geto will have a guillotine ready come tomorrow morning if I dare to even think about taking a day off right now.”

“I’m fine,” she sniffs with half-assurance as she snatches a tissue from nearby. “Besides, people say you burn more calories when you’re sick so hopefully I can lose another half inch off my waist by tomorrow.”

“Oh, so you admit you’re sick,” you point out with a mild smirk.

 “I-I’m not sick—!” she falters before her nose begins to twitch. “Ahchoo!”

You hum, ignoring her protests. It’s currently nearing seven in the evening, and you’re sure that work is just beginning to wrap up as of this moment. Thankfully, everyone agreed to do the work for the perfume ad tomorrow before the finalized issue is shipped to print, but you still had to edit some articles, as well as help Geto still gather materials for his newest fashion line that he only tended to work on in the evenings of the weekdays.

He leaves earlier than you and Manami do, since he often piles the nonsensical work to you and her. You wouldn’t be surprised if he left the office without another word considering he was attempting to push out his new line by the end of next month.

In the past few months, you can’t say your work as a journalist has improved since your time at Kaizen, but you can at least say that your friendship with Manami has blossomed and sailed a little more smoothly than your first few weeks of working with each other. She was still a little snippy towards those below her like the college interns and the other entry-level employees, but you were specifically her junior, so you suppose it gave you special access to a much more kind, yet still sassy, side of her.

You spot the paleness of Manami’s usually glossed lips and how fatigued she looked. It didn’t help that the dressing room was quite warm so she looked rather blushed in the face. She leans back on the couch and puts a hand over her eyes to block out the glaring white light of the vanity.

“God, shut that thing off,” she quips as she lazily wags a finger to the vanity lights. “Feels like I’m staring right into the Sun itself.”

The lights are turned off and the room dims. You chew on your lip before deciding to sacrifice your time a little longer in order to help her out since you knew how badly she wanted to attend tomorrow’s charity gala and show off her new Emilio Pucci dress.

“You should go home,” you say quietly. “Get some rest before tomorrow. I can take care of the Book and the rest of his bullshit.”

She chuckles at your mild cursing regarding you-know-who. “Yes, because that went great last time…”

“I swear I won’t mess up again! That day was just out for me, I swear,” you pout, “But really, you should go home and get some sleep. I know you’re gonna come in tomorrow regardless of what I say, so at the very least take some medicine and sleep.” 

Manami pokes an eye out of her hand to study your pleading ones. She gives in rather easily, sighing heavily. “Fine. But if you mess up anything, it’s all on you,” she states pointedly and unlocking her phone to notify Geto you’ll be taking care of her duties tonight. 

She shortly leaves the office when you clean yourself back up to your day’s attire. The company car comes promptly on time and you begin to wave goodbye to her, but she opens the window halfway and motions you with a shaky finger to come forward.

“No funny business,” she mutters sternly through her mask. “I mean it. He’ll have your head first, then mine if you pull anything.”

“I swear, nothing will happen,” you promise to her. “Now go home. Or else that that cold will be taking more than just a half inch off your waist.” 

She rolls her eyes but you can see the faintest grateful grin from the inside of her mask as she rolls the window back up. You watch until the black car disappears from view and into the city traffic before you go back into the office to wait for the Book to be finalized with its editors.

It reaches your hands eventually just a quarter to 10:00pm, a little earlier than expected. Another company car comes by and picks you up to get his dry-cleaning as well, and you arrive at Geto’s apartment just shy of 10:30pm. 

The heavy doors seem much more intimidating the second time around. Perhaps it’s because they knew what happened last time and are just waiting to see what incident occurs today this time around. But you shake your head out of your apprehensiveness and decide the only thing that will be happening behind those doors is just you placing the Book down on his coffee table and leaving to go home and sleep before D-Day.

The entrance was the same as always—decorated with a great assortment of artistry of different mediums. In the corner was the marble dragon and beside it was the archived Basquiat piece that must’ve cost an arm and leg to purchase for the typical person. Up ahead was the entrance to the living room and in the center of it stood the coffee table. 

The coffee table. 

All you have to do is just simply put the Book on the coffee table.

Then leave.

Then just leave. Do not do anything more than that. 

“No funny business.” Manami’s warning chimes in your mind again with each step you take to the living room. 

“No funny business,” you repeat to yourself under your breath, clutching the Book tightly to your chest as if it was the most fragile thing on earth.

You eventually reach the beginning of the living room and spot the very ottoman that had caused you to have a much more humiliating night than anticipated during that one day you were given the simple task of dropping off the Book from Geto himself. You hadn’t been asked to do so since then, shamefully. It’s tucked away safely on the side of the sofa, meaning you had to intentionally yourself into it to try and re-enact your foolishness again. 

The coffee table stands before your knees and you stare at yourself in the reflection of its glass.

“No funny business.”

You gingerly put the Book down on the center of the coffee table, your fingertips brushing against the many pages of its draft and a relief begins to fill your nerves the moment you’re about to break contact with it…

… until a familiar voice calls to you just as your fingers let go.

“(Y/N)?” Geto calls from above. “Is that you?”

You freeze on the spot. You swore to yourself and Manami that there would be no funny business today, and you were doing such a good job! Did you accidentally leave mud tracks behind? There wasn’t any rain today. Did you leave something else at the office that you needed to bring? No, Manami said he only needed the book… so did you do anything at all that would cause your boss to randomly call out to you during such a menial task?

With a rigid neck, you turn to him slowly with a pained smile and the Book officially set on the coffee table. “Yes, hello. Sorry to interrupt… I was just dropping off the Book.”

Geto peers down at you from the second floor’s staircase. He’s shed his waist coat and has left himself in his grey button up that’s relieved of three buttons at the top, just shyly showing the beginning of his chest and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. A rare sight—considering that Geto was often covered from head to toe in fabrics then even seeing him in a short sleeved shirt was a rarity.

“I see,” he says, scanning you from above with his cat-like eyes. 

You don’t know what to do. You just needed to drop the Book off and you were so unbelievably close to completing it without trouble. “Did you… did you happen to need something else by any chance?” you ask nervously.

“Ah, well,” Geto starts to your dismay. He pauses palpably before motioning you to come up. “I actually may need your aid on a piece I’m working on. Come upstairs.”

And miraculously, your throat closes up as you struggle not to burst into tears.

All you wanted to do is just drop the Book off! 

Despite all the curses that marathon through your head that you aim at your boss, you gather up the courage to shove down any questions of doubt and take your tired legs up the winding staircase. Something is telling you that this is a trick—that when you reach the top, Geto is actually just standing there with your termination letter, telling you that you forgot a vital rule to never go anywhere more than the living room in his house. But because you can rarely ever refute your boss in an effort to spare your sanity, you do as he says willingly like an obedient dog.

By the time you reach the top, there is no pink slip for him to display to you, but instead is an open door that faces the staircase directly. Inside, Geto stands in front of something, and you can see a tape measure around his neck more clearly, as well as a pin cushion on his wrist that usually holds an expensive watch. The room itself is rather large, with a variety of supplies garnered across a pegged wall with rolls of fabric decorating two of the walls. It’s Geto’s atelier room for his fashion line, you detail, the one that he stormed out of with Shigemo that time you had to drop off the Book. 

Without turning around, Geto calls to you, “Well don’t just stand there.”

Another thick swallow just barely passes through your dry throat. You prompt out an apology and slowly shuffle into his studio, where you see where the magic happens much more clearly and what exactly he was crafting on so late at night.

Geto moves aside for you to take a proper look at the mannequin adorned in a beautiful A-line black dress with a square neckline and ghostly, sheer sleeves. Around the waist was a loose string of pearls with a matching pearl necklace. It was a simple-looking dress from afar, but up close, you can tell that only a creative genius like Geto himself was capable of making something so minimalistic look so regal.

“Oh my…” you murmur softly as Geto pins a piece into place in its sleeve. “It’s beautiful.”

Geto hums flatly.

“I’m glad you like it,” he begins as he lifts his head to properly face you. One of his arms goes to lean against it (are those tattoos?) and you can feel his eyes scan you up and down like what he usually does in the morning as he examines your outfit. But something about this particular feat feels a little more intimate than usual, and you shift uncomfortably under his gaze. “You don’t happen to have an outfit for tomorrow’s gala, do you?”

“Well, um,” you mumble, fidgeting with your fingers. Initially, you were just going to use a plain white, sleeveless dress you had used for a work party you spoiled yourself with before you left your former workplace since it was a rather expensive and nice dress, but as you second-guess, you’re sure Geto wouldn’t approve of a dress that you had bought on clearance at the nearby outlet mall. So you meekly reply with, “... no, not really.”

You’re expecting some sort of scolding from him, possible Geto telling you that you need to be more prepared for such an event and that the last few days’ events were no excuse for sloppy planning, but instead, you’re even more startled when he says something completely unexpected that makes your eyes widen beyond your glasses’s frames.

“Good,” he says and gestures to his creation. “Because I want you to wear this for tomorrow night.”

↩ previous chapter next chapter ↪

a/n ; i have rewatched the devil wears prada for the 123894th time before the year ends and have decided to bring this series back to life because i think it's much to good to give up on 🙂↕️ i don't know if i'll start a taglist just yet, but maybe, we shall see.

i'll also will be using she/her pronouns with an afab-hinted!body from this point on. i'm also still in debate of writing smut since 1) i'm not very good at writing it, 2) i don't usually like to write it lol, and 3) but i still do consider it as some sort of breaking point eventually between geto and reader. so if there will be in the future, it will be tagged and most likely will be extremely mild.

thank you for reading as always! i hope you enjoyed this chapter and this series so far. likes, comments, and reblogs are always noticed and heavily appreciated! (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡ !!! until next time!

[skeeterbutt]

JJK characters as animals

GOJO - rare breed cat like maybe a Mainecoon. If you ever found him on the street he would probably be in peak condition and ran away from someone’s home. Definitely high maintenance

GETO - Definitely a horse with the most Lucious Mane ever catch him trotting in a 56 acre ranch freely and beautifully would definitely be a diva but also a very sweet boy

SHOKO - Our forgotten baby would be a tree frog forced to blend in to survive timid but still there looks for stability and comfort in life.

NANAMI - Jaguar. No explanation just Jaguar

MAHITO - Hyena it just fits in with him travels in a group with all the other curses and very vicious def do not approach material

INO - My baby would def be a golden retriever OR OR OR a Mole both Curious and gentle sweet but also confused an naive.

SUKUNA - hippo.

TOJI - Raccon free loading raccoon deceiving and cocky but you would be able to get along with it as long as you can handle the constant need for materialistic things

[daisynik7]

Pairing: Takuma Ino x f!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~1.7k

cw: explicit language, mentions of a popular horror movie, smut – PIV sex (cowgirl position), nipple play, blow job, mask kink, slight degradation (slut, whore), use of pet names (cutie, sweetie, baby) 

Summary: You and your new boyfriend Ino decide to watch a horror movie together in honor of spooky season. Halfway through, he notices how skittish you are, making him want to play a silly prank on you with his signature ski mask. It’s all fun and games until he realizes that you actually like seeing him in this way more than he anticipated. 

Author’s Note: Happy October y'all! What can I say, I am VERY into Takuma Ino right now and I just had to get this out of my system. This is barely edited or proofread, sorry for any grammar mistakes or typos, I really was just letting my fingers fly through this in a moment of passion LOL. Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are always appreciated, thank you for reading! MDNI banner by @/cafekitsune. 

You turn off all the lights, the only source of illumination coming from the TV screen, paused at the very start of the movie you decided to watch tonight. With a big bowl of freshly popped kernels in your grasp, you huddle beside your boyfriend, Ino, on the couch, covering both your legs with a fleece blanket. He wraps his arm around you, pulling you in closer, reaching to grab a handful of popcorn to stuff inside his mouth. “Ready?” he muffles, pointing the remote to the screen, finger pressed to the center button. 

Nuzzling your head against him, you answer. “Yup!”

It’s apparently one of those cult classic horror flicks according to Ino, who recommended it when you mentioned how you wanted to watch something scary for October. He’s seen it before, many times in fact, but he insists that you watch it. He has no clue how frightened you get over the silliest things, so tonight will be a treat for the both of you. 

The opening scene plays out: a beautiful blonde picks up the phone and the conversation ends quickly short because it’s the wrong number. Normal so far, good. It rings again, but now the caller seems interested in talking. Do you like scary movies? Do you have a boyfriend? The man’s voice gives you the creeps, and you find yourself shuddering from it, cuddling closer to Ino, who glances at you with a smirk on his face. 

You never told me your name.

Why do you want to know my name?

Because I want to know who I’m looking at.

This line gives you goosebumps and you lift the blankets up to hide behind it. “Ew, creepy!” Ino only laughs, throwing a few more pieces of popcorn into his mouth. 

It escalates from here, getting increasingly chaotic and violent. By the time you’re halfway into the film, the bowl is down to its last kernels and you’re crouched in Ino’s lap, peeking through your fingers. He pauses the movie after one particularly brutal kill. “Snack break! I’m going to make some more popcorn and go pee.”

“You’re leaving?!” you whine, clinging on to him as he tries to get up.

He chuckles. “Babe! It’s just a movie. I’ll be right back, okay?” He kisses you on the forehead, heading into the kitchen, leaving you alone in the living room. 

Of course it’s just a movie, but you can’t help feeling creeped out in the dark like this. You reach for one of the nightstands, turning on the lamp. You hear the drone of the microwave, and after a minute or so, the distinct sound of popping. Eventually, it comes to a stop, and the entire house is eerily quiet. You’re tempted to call out for Ino, wondering where he is, but you remember that he had to use the bathroom. 

Suddenly, a shadowy figure appears right behind on you on the couch, grabbing your shoulders and shouting gibberish at you. You scream bloody murder, ready to punch him and run away when Ino lifts his ski mask up to reveal himself, tears streaming down his face, cracking up at you. 

“Ino!” you yell at him, slapping his hands away from you. “You fucking asshole!”

He doubles over, cackling, wiping his eyes. It takes a good while for him to regain his composure as you glare at him, arms crossed over your chest. “I’m sorry, baby. I just couldn’t resist.” He sits beside you, stretching his arms out for a hug. “You have to admit, that was fucking hilarious.”

You shake your head, refusing. “You’re such a dick.”

“Oh, come on! It was just a little prank. Now you’ll be way more prepared for the rest of the movie!” He pulls the mask over his face again, everything covered except the holes for his eyes. “See? Not so scary anymore, right?”

You inspect him carefully, still pouting, not saying a word.

“I’m sorry, sweetie. Truly. I promise not to scare you again.” He scoots towards you, nudging you in the arm. 

You roll your eyes at him, relaxing. “Fine.”

“Can I get a kiss now?” 

He tries to lift his mask up, but you stop him, pulling it back down. “I don’t want to see your face right now. I’m still annoyed, you know.”

“Aw man! Really?”

You hoist it just past his nose, leaning in to give him a soft kiss on the lips. When you break apart, he smirks at you. “You like this, don’t you? Seeing me with my mask on.”

You shrug, a sly grin on your face, neither confirming nor denying his accusation. Sure, you were a bit upset at first, when he scared the shit out of you. But seeing his face covered like that may have sparked a desire in you that you never knew you had, until now. 

“Oh my god! You do, you do!” he exclaims, shaking your arm. “My cutie has a mask kink!”

“Shut up, asshole!” you yell at him, pretending to shove him off, smiling. 

“You’re a fucking freak!” he giggles, pouncing on you. He starts tickling you along your ribcage, causing you to squirm beneath him as he straddles you, trapping you between his legs. His fingers flutter under your arms, stroking your sensitive skin.

“Ino!” you cry out, laughing from the sensation. 

You can feel his cock growing hard in his pants, balls heavy on your stomach. Suddenly, he stops, mask still folded to expose his lips, leaning down to kiss you sloppily. He pins your hands above your head, locking his fingers with yours. He slips inside your mouth, grazing your tongue with his, hungry for your saliva. “Fuck,” he moans into you, nipping at your bottom lip. “You like this freaky shit, don’t you? Nasty slut.” His playful tone is laden with lust now, low and sultry, mouth brushing along your neck, sucking at your pulse points to mark you. 

You whine his name, wrapping your legs around his waist, grinding yourself against him. 

“Look at you, getting so fucking dumb all because of my mask,” he purrs. “What else turns you on, cutie? Tell me.”

Without thinking, you blurt out, “Spit. Your spit. I want it.”

“Oh shit,” he swears, licking his mouth. He traces the outline of your lips, beckoning you to open up, dribbling a thick wad of saliva inside you. You gulp it down, sticking your tongue out for more. 

“Oh fuck, you’re nasty,” he says, doing it again. “Makes me so fucking horny seeing you like this. Seeing my cutie act like a fucking whore.” He slips beneath your shirt, fondling your bare breasts, flicking your peaked nipples with his thumbs. 

“Fuck, Ino,” you whisper, pussy throbbing in your panties, arousal leaking through the fabric. 

“You like it when I play with your tits, huh?” Like it when I pinch them hard like this.” He squeezes them between his thumb and index finger, enough pressure to stimulate you, making you moan his name again and again.

He swears under his breath, shoving his pants down his legs, shimmying out of them until he’s only in his underwear now, erection stiff in his boxers. “You gonna suck my cock now or what, slut?” 

You nod, kneeling in front of him, knees on the carpet, spreading his thighs apart. He lifts his ass off the couch to slide out of his boxers, letting them fall around his ankles. You kiss the tip of his dick, smearing his precum around your lips like gloss before swallowing him into your mouth. 

He lets out a drawn out, “Fuck,” watching you with wide eyes as you bob up and down his shaft. Voice shaky, he asks, “Can I put my hands on you?”

Something about him in this ski mask makes you want to be submissive, makes you want to be used. You grab both his hands, guiding them towards the sides of your head, giving him free rein to manhandle you.

“Holy shit,” he murmurs, gripping you tighter, gradually thrusting his hips in tandem with you. His cockhead hits the back of your throat, teasing your gag reflex, but you resist, tears collecting in the corners of your eyes, enduring it. 

Noticing you, he pulls out, a string of spit between you. “Baby, baby. Please don’t force yourself. I don’t want to hurt you.” He reaches to his side, grabbing a tissue from the table beside the couch, wiping away the spit around your mouth and the tears in your eyes. “Come here, cutie. I want to make you feel good too.”

You strip out of your bottoms, straddling his lap, pussy wet and aching against him. He moans as you rock back and forth on his shaft, pressing his thumb to your clit, massaging it. “There we go. Now we both can feel good, yeah?”

After a few more strokes, you beg him to fuck you, lifting up to guide his cock inside you slowly, sinking down on him until he bottoms out. You bounce on him, his hands gripped to your waist, guiding you, moaning your name between expletives. 

As you approach your orgasm, you pull up his mask, placing it on his head as he usually wears it. He smiles brightly at you, nuzzling his nose to yours. “There’s my pretty girl. Can you come for me now? Come all over this cock?”

You kiss him passionately, arms wrapped around his neck as he thrusts into you, hands squeezed on your ass now. You reach your climax, moaning into his mouth. He comes with you, shooting his load deep into your womb, filling you up with his cream pie. The two of you continue to kiss slowly, catching your breaths. He caresses your back while you melt into his embrace. 

“We need to establish a safe word,” he suggests, cradling you in his arms. “I want to make sure I’m not hurting you.”

You hum into his skin, saying the first thing that comes to mind. “Popcorn."

He chuckles, stroking the back of your neck gently. “Alright. Popcorn it is.” A beat later, he exclaims, “Popcorn! I totally forgot about the popcorn!”

You laugh, giving your boyfriend a wet smooch on the cheek.

[simplygojo]

"Double the Pleasure, Double the Pain"

a.n. ⸺ Hey y'all, I've been excited for this short fic, requested by the lovely @takuma-talkz! I hope you enjoy this, and thank you so much for requesting! <3

Spooky Szn Masterlist

Pairing ⸺ Ino Takuma x f!reader x Kento Nanami

Word Count ⸺ 2K

Kinktober Taglist ⸺ @nanamisrighthand @simplyyyuji; @megumisdivinedogs; @lovleyredheadfairy

Warnings ⸺ 18+ SMUT, MDNI, threesome, spanking, face-fucking, hair pulling, nicknames, brat taming, rough sex.

The night had begun innocently enough, the three of you hanging out at Nanami’s apartment, but as the hours passed and the wine flowed, a simmering tension coiled between you, ready to snap. 

Now, you found yourself sandwiched between the two of them, heart racing and anticipation building as the atmosphere shifted from playful banter to something far more charged.

Ino leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, “You really thought you could tease us all night without consequences?” 

His fingers danced along your thigh, tracing the delicate fabric of your skirt. The thrill of his touch sent shivers down your spine, and you couldn’t help but bite your lip, daring him to continue.

Nanami’s expression was a mix of amusement and discipline, his piercing gaze locked onto yours. 

“You’ve been quite the brat tonight, haven’t you?” He said, his voice low and gravelly, sending a delicious thrill through you. You smirked, defiantly meeting his eyes, but the challenge didn’t go unnoticed.

In one swift motion, Nanami’s hand gripped your chin, pulling your gaze upward to meet his intense stare. 

“You think you can test our patience?” He asked, a hint of a growl in his voice, his grip firm but not painful, just enough to assert his control. His other hand moved to his belt, expertly unbuckling it with a practiced ease that sent a thrill of anticipation through you.

“Let’s see how long you can keep that mouth shut,” he murmured, the promise of discipline lingering in the air. He pulled the leather strap free, holding it up as if it were a weapon of seduction.

“Good girl,” Ino purred, leaning in closer. “I think it’s time we remind you who’s in charge.”

As Nanami’s hand tangled in your hair, tugging gently but firmly, your breath caught in your throat. 

He maneuvered you so that your wrists were presented before him, the cool metal of his belt buckle glinting in the dim light. 

“This will help keep you in line,” he said, wrapping the belt around your wrists and securing it snugly, leaving you helplessly restrained. 

The soft leather felt rough against your skin, and the rush of being bound sent a thrill coursing through you.

Your breathing quickened, a mix of excitement and arousal flooding your senses. 

“What if I like being a brat?” You challenged, trying to sound confident despite the vulnerability you felt. 

But as you glanced between the two men, the heat in their gazes sent another wave of anticipation rushing through you.

Ino chuckled, the sound low and intoxicating. 

“Oh, you’ll like it even more once we’re done with you.” His palm connected with your ass in a sharp smack, sending a jolt of pleasure and pain through you. 

“Now, how many times do you think we’ll have to remind you to behave?”

Nanami’s grip on your hair tightened, forcing your head back. 

“I suggest you take this seriously. We both know you’ve pushed your luck.” His voice was a steady murmur, as if he were simply stating a fact, and it made your stomach flutter with excitement.

Ino’s fingers danced over the exposed skin of your thighs, drawing circles that ignited flames of desire. 

“You like that, don’t you? Knowing we can do anything we want with you?” His voice was silky, laced with a hint of danger. 

“I can’t wait to see how you react when we really push you.”

With that, Ino's fingers ghosted higher, teasing just at the edge of your heat, while Nanami's grip on your throat tightened slightly, a reminder of just how much control he had over you.

You could feel the heat pooling in your core, and you fought the urge to grind against Ino’s hand, desperate for friction.

“Please,” you whimpered, the word escaping before you could think.

“Please what?” Nanami challenged, his voice dropping an octave as he tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze. 

“Use your words.”

“Please... I want more,” you gasped, the heat in your cheeks deepening as you let the vulnerability wash over you.

“Good girl,” Nanami said, satisfaction colouring his tone. 

“You’ll get what you want, but only when we decide.”

Ino chuckled, and you could see the gleam of mischief in his eyes. “You’re going to have to work for it, though.”

As Nanami’s hold on your throat eased, his fingers trailed down your neck, over your collarbone, while Ino’s hands explored the curves of your body, squeezing and pulling in all the right places. 

The dual sensations left you gasping, your body arching toward their touches, wanting nothing more than to be completely consumed by them.

“Let’s take this to the bedroom,” Nanami suggested, his tone commanding.

Without hesitation, they guided you down the hall, the anticipation buzzing in the air as you entered the dimly lit room. 

Nanami pushed you gently onto the bed, the cool sheets contrasting sharply with your heated skin.

“On all fours,” he instructed, his voice firm yet enticing.

You obeyed, getting onto your hands and knees, heart pounding with anticipation. Ino knelt behind you, his hands gripping your hips, positioning you just right as Nanami moved closer. 

“You’re going to feel so good,” he promised, his breath fanning over your back.

Ino’s fingers danced along your spine, teasing you as he spread your legs wider, exposing your desperate cunt fully to them. 

“Look at you, so eager,” he taunted, a wicked grin on his face.

Nanami stepped forward, his hard length just inches from your face, a sight that made your mouth water. 

“Remember to keep your hands behind your back,” he reminded you, his tone darkly playful. You nodded, the thrill of being so vulnerable only heightening your desire.

With a swift motion, Nanami gripped your hair, pulling your head back slightly as he pressed his cock against your lips. 

“Open up for me,” he commanded, his voice low and filled with authority. You gladly complied, taking him in your mouth, feeling the heat and weight of him as he pushed deeper, touching the back of your throat.

“Such a good girl,” Nanami praised, his grip on your hair firm as he began to thrust, setting a rhythm that was both deliciously intense and overwhelming. 

The warmth of his skin against your tongue, the taste of him filling your mouth—it was intoxicating.

Ino positioned himself behind you, teasing your entrance with the tip of his cock. 

“You’re going to love this,” he said, his voice thick with lust. He pushed in slowly, filling you completely, stretching you in a way that made you moan around Nanami’s shaft, causing.

The combined sensations were overwhelming. 

Nanami pulled your hair, guiding you to take him deeper, while Ino thrust hard and deep, the two of them working in sync to bring you to the edge of ecstasy.

“Tell us how it feels,” Ino urged, his breath hot against your ear.

“Y-you feel so good,” you managed to gasp, the words muffled around Nanami’s cock.

“Good girl,” Nanami replied, his thrusts becoming more demanding as he drove into your mouth, forcing you to take him fully with each movement. He pulled your hair harder, and the mixture of pleasure and pain had you trembling, completely at their mercy.

Ino’s hand came down hard against your ass, a sharp smack that sent shockwaves of pleasure racing through you. 

“You like that, don’t you?” He taunted, his pace quickening as he buried himself deep inside you.

A stifled moan escaped your lips around Nanami’s length, the words swallowed by the delicious pressure of him filling you completely. 

Tears of pleasure pricked at your eyes as you fought to take him deeper, the intensity of the moment overwhelming you. 

The heat radiated from your cheeks, your body alight with desire as you revelled in the sensations. 

Every thrust, every slap of Ino’s hand against your skin heightened your arousal, pushing you closer to the edge.

The dual stimulation was overwhelming. Nanami’s grip on your hair was a tantalizing reminder of your submission, pulling you just right, guiding you deeper onto his cock as you struggled to breathe. 

The taste of him filled your senses—salt and heat—overwhelming you with every thrust. You felt like you were floating in a blissful haze, completely consumed by them.

Ino’s pace increased, his thrusts deep and forceful, each one sending pleasure spiraling through your body. 

You could feel every inch of him as he filled you from behind, stretching you in ways that made your head spin. 

The sensation of being filled from both ends was exquisite; it was as if you were being split open, filled to the brim with pleasure that was both dizzying and deliciously intense.

“Such a good little slut,” Ino breathed, his voice thick with lust as he leaned closer, his hands gripping your hips. 

The way he filled you completely, thrusting deep and slow before picking up the pace, made you whimper in response. 

You could feel the wetness pooling between your legs, dripping down your thighs as your body reacted instinctively to the raw, primal urges surging within you.

“Look at you,” Nanami said, his voice low and steady, contrasting with the chaos of your emotions. 

“So eager, so desperate. Just for us.” His thrusts grew more insistent, each movement pushing you closer to the brink, demanding everything you had to give.

With every stroke of Ino’s hips against yours, the pleasure built like a coiled spring, ready to snap at any moment. 

The rhythmic slap of skin against skin, the heavy breaths that filled the air, and the intoxicating heat radiating from both of them enveloped you in a cocoon of bliss.

“Don’t you dare come until we tell you to,” Nanami growled, his grip tightening on your hair, sending a shiver down your spine. 

The tension in your body became almost unbearable, your thighs quaking with the effort to hold back the impending wave of pleasure.

The thrill of submission sent waves of warmth flooding through you, and you felt alive, pulsating with need. 

A muffled sound escaped your throat, a blend of desperation and desire as you felt the pressure building within you. Tears brimmed at the corners of your eyes, each thrust driving you closer to a peak you could taste but couldn’t reach.

“Good,” Ino replied, a dark grin spreading across his face as he thrust harder, the force of his movements sending shockwaves of pleasure radiating through your body. 

“Just keep taking it, and we’ll reward you.”

You could feel the heat building deep within you, your body desperate to release, yet every time you got close, the control they exerted over you kept you teetering on the edge. 

Each thrust, each slap, and every harsh pull of your hair drew you further into a haze of lust, completely lost to the sensations.

“Look at you, all flushed and needy,” Nanami taunted, his voice a deep rumble that sent shivers coursing through you. “You want to come, don’t you?”

The only response you could muster was another stifled moan, a sound filled with desperate longing that echoed around Nanami’s length. 

The pleasure coursed through you, thick and suffocating, and you felt as if you were drowning in the overwhelming sensations.

“Then just hold on a little longer,” he urged, his movements becoming more rhythmic, driving deeper, pushing you closer to the precipice with each powerful thrust.

As they worked together, the world around you faded into nothing, leaving only the heat, the pleasure, and the intoxicating dominance of both men. 

You were theirs, completely lost in the overwhelming sensations of being filled from both ends, caught in a whirlwind of pleasure that you never wanted to end.

[rinhaler]

Don’t You Love It When I Come Around?

Your relationship with him is so toxic. But no matter how hard you try to end things, he always worms his way back between your legs.

✧˖*°࿐: 18+ only, no minors.    ✧. ┊ takuma ino x f!reader

Genre: porn! with a plot! Notes: in january i told u guys to send ino prompts and i would write my favourite and here it is, I'll add the ask below ! Warnings: 18+, fem!reader, dubcon (he's high), toxic relationship, exes to lovers?, rich boy!ino, dacryphilia, pussy eating ♡, light nipple play, vaginal sex, love making ♡, drool ♡, praise, slight orgasm denial, scratching, creampie ♡, manipulation, calls your pussy she/her, pet names (princess, baby/babe, gorgeous etc.) Words: 4.6k

He loves you.

He wouldn’t keep coming back to you with such urgency and wanton if he didn’t love you so ardently. But you ended things, and for the first time there was some finality to the breakup. You’re weak with your will and conviction, usually. You can’t take it anymore, you can’t.

Being second best to every other thing is his life is too hard.

His friends, his family.

Drugs.

You want to be his top priority, but you never will be. It weighs heavy in your heart whenever you’re with him, you don’t feel the type of love you want to feel from him. The kind where you know he’d kiss the ground you walk on and worship your very existence.

Fairy tale love, romance movie love.

He isn’t capable. And it’s taken you too long to realise it.

And usually, you crumble when he begs. His pleas and promises to change always sway you into believing him, despite knowing the truth that he’ll never change for you. He thinks money carries the same weight as love. He thinks his daddy’s credit card is the answer to all of his problems.

He wants to believe you can be bought.

He truly believes that he can buy your subservience with the same unearned money he uses to pay his dealer in fat wads of cash.

The day you met his dealer is the day you think things really began to fall apart between you. He wouldn’t refrain from making lewd comments about you, a fact that has stopped you from going with him to pick up since that first encounter. Your boyfriend didn’t chastise him, no. Instead, he played along. Joking that he’d be willing to share during your most intimate moments or even give you up completely to use as a payment instead of actually paying.

You broke up with him that night, leaving him alone with his friend. He didn’t even bother chasing after you to apologise. He didn’t care enough to check if you were okay, either. It hurt you to think that he was laughing it off with Sukuna, imagining him so nonchalant and uncaring broke your heart.

And you’re lucky you didn’t have to see that you were exactly right.

You can’t even remember why you forgave him that time, it should have been the final straw. He came over, sneaking into your window after your parents turned in for the night. It’s like he’d been waiting for all of the lights to go out. He lifted it, effortlessly, before he stepped inside. He hushed your protests and panic as you worried your parents would hear and before you knew it, he was your boyfriend again.

You jolt from your thoughts as you hear a struggle to your left. Your eyes linger on the window as you notice Takuma try his hardest to lift it open. He looks up and sees you staring, and you recognise something akin to fear sprawled across his pretty face.

He can’t remember the last time you locked the window.

“Baby, please.” he whispers. You shush him, determined to be strong as you approach the window and look at him sternly.

It’s the first time in over a week since you’ve laid eyes on each other, it should have been harder than it was. But you’ve had plenty of practice from when he goes on drink and drug infused benders and doesn’t even bother to send a measly text to let you know he’s alive.

Your fists clench tightly as you hold your parted curtains, though your will begins to dissipate as you see his soft brown stare up at you so pathetically. It feels like love. Maybe one more chance wouldn’t—

“Let me in, baby, ‘m so cold.” he tells you, squatting awkwardly on the roof as he tries to convince you to see things his way. Your blood begins to boil again as you remember how fucking entitled is. Entitled in life and entitled to you. Not this time. “I think it’s gonna—” the metal curtain pole hisses as you abruptly shut them and shut him out of your life for good.

“Go home, Takuma…” you sigh, your own purposiveness decaying as your body seems to crave him, you want to help him, despite knowing you’re being manipulated.

“Oh come on. Don’t do this, princess. It’s starting to rain!” he tells you.

You can’t listen to him. You grab your headphones from your desk and put them over your ears. You quickly scroll through your music library until you find your feel-good playlist and turn the volume to max. Sure you might go deaf in a few years, but it’s better than listening to him do all he can to get you to let him in.

The paranoia of not knowing what he’s doing or saying out there pricks at your skin like needles. Your senses are sharp despite cancelling one of them out. You begin to hear creaks of the window and calls of your name you’re certain you can’t be hearing. Your dad will come to berate you and him if he gets too rowdy. He wouldn’t risk it.

INO: Gonna start singing if you don’t let me in 💕

You learn forward in your seat as you read his message. He’s bluffing, he has to be. And yet, it scares you enough to pull your headphones down while your music continues to play through them. His knuckles are rapping against the window repeatedly without stopping as he waits for you to reply. He gives you a few minutes before the knocking stops, and while you hope he’s given up, you look down at your messages to see three dreaded dots appear.

INO: You’re so cute when you’re mad

INO: What song should I sing?

You freeze as you hear him hum, even over the sound of the rain pelting down against the roof shingles and the glass of your window. It’s a song you recognise instantly, the first song you danced to together when you met at a club two years ago.

“Come on baby, let me iiiiin~!” he speak-sings in tune with the beat and you know it’s only going to get worse. You try to hold strong, you do. The thought of giving him the satisfaction and ultimately the gateway to him winning you back makes your stomach churn, you don’t want to keep being this girl.

But you’ve always been weak when it comes to him.

The shriek of your curtains opening again puts a swift end to Takuma’s singing. His face lights up, and it makes you even angrier. He watches you intently as you unlock the window for him, but you step away to allow him the honour of opening it for himself.

“Shit baby, I’m soaked. Why didn’t you let me in sooner?” he asks, he wrings out his beanie on your bedroom carpet before tossing it aside completely. You roll your eyes as he shuts the window and begins to undress. “C’moooon, you’re not really giving me the silent treatment, are ya?”

You sigh and sit on your bed, carefully taking off your headphones and tucking them back into their protective casing. He barely even looks at you as you tuck your knees up to your chest and observe his every move.

“What do you want Takuma…” you pout. “I told you I don’t wanna see you anymore. Why are you here?” you ask.

He kisses his teeth, the sound makes your skin pinch together and you suddenly feel the harsh chill of the outside breaking in. He smiles at you, his sweet innocent face and warm brown eyes are almost enough to thaw you out.

“You didn’t really mean that, did ya?” he wonders. “Baby, I love you.” he kicks off his shoes and begins to undress. The audaciousness of him is never lost on you, but tonight he’s really something. He sits on the edge of your bed, his back facing you while he moves at a glacial pace.

He’s high. It’s obvious.

The sculptured muscles of his back flex and ripple as he takes off his socks, flinging them without a care in any direction before he stands up to look at you. You swallow, hard, as the buckle of his belt begins to clink before he pulls it out of the belt loops with one hand. Your eyes stay fixed on his as his arm extends and he lets it fall from his grip.

“Bet you’ve missed this dick, baby,” he smirks. “Can see it in your eyes. You’ve missed me.”

You roll your eyes despite his words hitting a nerve. His vision drops as he unbuttons his jeans, missing the way you squirm as you reposition yourself on the bed, tucking your knees further into your chest as you continue to stare while he takes off his clothes.

“Why do you play these games, princess? You know you always come back to me.”

“It’s not a game. I’m done with you, for real this time.” you protest. The way he bites his lip makes you angrier as he climbs on the bed with you, the mattress dipping as he slowly crawls towards you like he has so many times before.

He thinks, he knows everything you say it futile, regardless of how determined you are to not succumb to him for the umpteenth time.

“Take this off, gorgeous,” he demands as his fingers curl into the elastic waistband of your pleated skirt. You shake your head lightly, heart battering in your chest like a drum solo. He snarls, at that, like he hears your heart fighting against your weak defiance. “Suit yourself.” he mutters.

His hands wrap around your thighs and he drags you down the length of the mattress. It takes everything within you not to scream, the thought of being caught by your parents like this makes your whole body sear with heat.

“I’m—” you squeak, a little too loudly. You clear your throat and look at him, your eyes shaking with apprehension and anxiety. He wets his lips as he looks at you, waiting for you to continue. “I’m not fucking you. N-Not tonight. Not ever. Never again, Takuma… I m-mean it. We’re through!”

He sighs, a little pout forming on his lips as he crawls over your body. He cages you beneath him, looking down at you with a moue of dissatisfaction.

“What about a kiss baby? Can I have a kiss, just one?” he asks. His voice is soft and shallow. His honeyed eyes make you crumble as he stares at you with an intensity you’ve never felt from him before. Is it desperation? Is it panic that he’s really losing his grip on you? You can’t even look at him directly, each turn of your head causes him to angle his own so he can continue to stare you down.

And it works.

“Just a kiss.” you mumble, your whole body relaxes when he smiles. It’s such a sweet smile, the one that always adorned his gentle face when you first met. You’ve missed it, dearly.

Your eyes flutter closed as his lips land on yours. It’s chaste, quick, and leaves you wanting more.

“One more kiss, baby. Please?”

You nod, closing your eyes again. You startle when you feel the mattress shift dramatically. Words stay lodged in your throat as you see him on the ground, on his knees, looking up at you between your legs.

“No panties? Must’a known I was coming.” he grins. He flips up the material only slightly. His head disappears beneath the black pleats.

It’s pathetic, truly, the whimper that flees from you when he presses a delicate kiss to your clit. You cover your mouth with your hand, and you even surprise yourself when you feel tears roll down your cheeks.

“Can I kiss her again, princess? Wanna make out with her… do you want me to?” he wonders, repeating the same kiss again… again… and again.

“Y-Yes, Takuma please.” you moan. Your fingers card through his brunette locks, urging him closer to your heat. He complies, desperately. He slowly swirls his tongue over your swollen clit, humming contently as he encourages you to rest your legs over his shoulders.

The pleasure overwhelms you, and you allow yourself to lie comfortably against the mattress. Deep down you knew, you both knew, you were always going to end up like this.

You look between the valley of your breasts when you regain your stability. The shape of his head makes your own begin to spin as you see the material of your skirt move in tandem with his actions. The way he slurps and suckles on your flesh makes it all too clear, you’ll never be able to quit him. Not really, not when he’s so perfect when he’s like this.

Maybe he does love you, maybe all of the things he tells you when you shut him out for so long are indeed true. How else would he be able to ravage you with such vigour and passion? The only time you know him to have drive and patience is in moments like this.

He’s spoilt, but not with you.

He’s a giver, only for you.

Your back arches from the bed when the tip of his tongue targets a particularly sensitive spot between your folds. You moan, you whine, and it only encourages him more. He doesn’t stop when your thighs begin to clamp around his head. It’s more fuel to the fire, you have to smother any and all sounds that want to escape from your body with your hand.

And that, he sees as a challenge.

He holds under the bend of your knee and pushes it, so gently, towards your chest. And still, you feel like the air has been knocked from your lungs. Your skirt is forcibly moved by the action and his face is revealed once more. His eyes glitter and shimmer with expectance and desire as he sees your own face contort from the pleasure he’s forcing upon you.

His lips suction around your clit and he sucks like it’s his sole purpose on earth. Your eyes roll back, and you practically scream into your palm. His hand wanders purposefully to cup your breast. He squeezes experimentally, rubbing his thumb over the material of your top to tease your peaked nipple. The feeling of that is almost enough to make you unravel, your hips jerk at the contact, and he decides to take it further.

He breaches the edge of your crop top, desperate to feel your soft naked mound. Your eyes fill with water and spill consistently as he adds rolling your pebbled nipple between his thumb and forefinger to the intense amalgamation of pleasure.

“Ino… fuck,” you whisper pathetically, freeing your mouth momentarily to utter his name. To warn him. “I’m gonna cum.”

“… I know.” he mumbles before maintaining his efforts. His tongue swipes quickly over your clit, you whimper and your toes can’t help but curl as he doesn’t dare let up.

You grip the sheets below, desperate to hang onto something as you feel your body seconds from exploding. He shushes you between licks, drooling over your cunt as his jaw hangs low for you. You do all you can to keep quiet, but it’s a gargantuan task. Especially when you haven’t felt so good for so long, it’s near impossible.

Your legs begin to quiver as you cum. Your pussy gushes and coats his face further. And for once in his life, he isn’t ungrateful. He savours the taste and laps at your folds like a starving man. And after such a long time apart, that’s exactly what he is. He’s ravenous, he’s missed this. He’s missed you. And he’ll never not appreciate how delicious you are. And it’s all for him.

“Made such a pretty mess for me, baby,” he murmurs into your skin, repeatedly planting delicate kisses against your inner thighs. He doesn’t stop as he gets on top of you, showering your stomach in the same soft kisses. Each one infused with his desire for you. His urgency to force you to remember who you belong to and who you need.

Your legs spread beautifully for him, his throbbing cock rubs against your core, dampening the material of his underwear.

His eyes fixate on yours as he looks for permission to kiss you. And you give it, instantly, humming when his lips slot against yours. His tongue delves into your mouth, his hips begin to rut into you as you make out.

You run your fingers through his hair, interlocking your fingers to keep him close as you continue humping against each other. He breathes heavily as he breaks the kiss, staring down at you with a hurt look in his eye.

“What’s wrong?” you ask him quietly. It makes your blood run cold, the fear of wondering if he’s about to go back to the regular Takuma again. The one you’re all too familiar with, The one that always lets you down.

“… Don’t like it when you call me Ino, baby,” he tells you. It’s earnest, a twinge of disappointment laced in his words.

“All of your friends call you Ino, Ino.” you repeat. It makes your heart race to defy him, you seldom do. You’re the perfect girlfriend until you can’t take anymore, but this is different. You’ve never felt bold enough to do this, to attempt to rile him up.

Never.

“Stop that.” he growls, kissing you again. “You’re not my friend. You’re my girlfriend, alright? Say it. Please.”

“I t-told you… I don’t want you back. Only let you in so you wouldn’t wake my parents.”

He stops. He stands on his knee and looks down at you with a little frown, his lower lip almost jutting as he hears you. You can’t tell if he’s actually sad, or if it’s merely panic. “Do you mean that? You don’t want me back?”

You shake your head, despite it being the opposite of what you want. It’s almost as if you’ve been possessed.

“… So you wouldn’t care if I left right now? You don’t want to fuck?” he continues. You can barely look at him, you’ve never seen him like this before. He might actually be upset, he’s experiencing regret for the first time in his entire life.

“Well… if you wanna go, I won’t stop you Takuma.” you shrug, it comes a little too easily. It feels like a dream, or a nightmare to Takuma. He can’t help but stare as he realises he’s lost his control of you.

A hand rests on your knee, while the other carefully rubs the lower half of his face. He wants to ask again. And again. Is that really what you want? But he’s terrified to even think it, let alone say it. Because what if you are sure? He won’t know what to do, he’s never known you to be like this before. Maybe he took too long to come over this time, he got cocky. Assumptions and greed consumed him. He came back to you when he was ready, but he hadn’t accounted for the fact you might grow a backbone in that time.

He lowers himself again, your noses barely touching before he kisses the tip of it.

“You love me, I know you do baby,” he says, faux confidence lingering in his tone. Though you don’t notice, to you, he’s just confident. The sound of tender kisses littering your cheeks is the loudest sound in the room, even louder than his desperate whispers. “You gotta love me… because I love you. So much, baby, please forgive me.”

He doesn’t let up, like he’s transferring a love potion embedded from his lips to seep into your skin. You mewl at the sensation, never knowing him to be this affectionate before. You know why, the agonising realisation that he lost you has him resorting to this last ditch effort.

And you hate him, because it’s working.

“I’ll always love you more than anyone, y’know. I promise. I’ll be better this time…” he tells you, the same sorry line he’s told you so many times before. “Can I put it in, babe? Please… Please let me feel you close one more time, if ya really mean it.” he begs. He moves his lips to yours, hoping to silence you with a kiss to remember. There’s a hunger to it, a desperate craving that he can’t satiate.

He needs your help.

He needs you.

“L-Last time, okay? I mean it, Takuma, I won’t take you back.”

He stopped listening to you after he heard you agree, honestly. Reaching down to pull his boxers just enough for his cock to spring free. He moans, it’s akin to a whine as it slaps against his abdomen. He’s been hard since he got that first kiss from you, and tasting your slick made him ache for you.

He jerks himself a few times before he slips himself inside of your cunt. His cockhead resting carefully in your entrance. His body moves closer to yours as he sinks in further, you both moan in tandem as you stretch and swallow his cock oh so gloriously.

“S-See, baby? See how perfect I fit? ‘Cause you love me so much, and I love you.” he explains gently holding your jaw in his grip so he can force you to look at him. His hips begin to roll, but he can’t let you enjoy it. Your attempt to throw your head back in pleasure with your eyes scrunched closed is thwarted as his hips instantly slow. “You gotta say it. Say it back, princess.”

“I love you, Takuma…” you say, defeated. “You know I’ll always love y-you.”

“Yeah?” he smiles widely, moving his hips once more. “Always gonna be mine?”

“… always.” you nod.

He kisses you again, his body weight almost suffocating you as he rests on top of you. He fucks every ounce of passion and longing into you. He covers your mouth, sensing it’s too much. But he can’t stop. You don’t want him to, you’ve never felt so whole with him.

You’re too fucked out to notice how badly your bed is creaking. Even with your moans trapped behind Takuma’s palm, he’s sure your parents will know he’s here by now.

“Fuuuuck, you’re choking my fuckin’ dick, baby. Gonna make me cum too fast.” he tells you, kissing your forehead as he slams his hips into yours. “So tight for me… my p-perfect girl, aren’t ya?”

You nod desperately, clenching around him at his every word.

“Want you to cum for me… but,” he rests his forehead against yours, alternating his movements to slow and deep rather than hard and fast. It has you drooling against his palm, but he doesn’t mind. He likes you, loves you, when you’re his braindead princess. “I only make my girlfriend cum.”

Your eyes widen in horror as you realise what he’s trying to do. You wish you could say you regret letting him fuck you again. But it’s too good, you’re lost to it. You’re almost dumb enough to agree.

Almost.

He moves his hand and cups your face, imploring you to look him in his eyes and tell him you’re his again.

“I c-can’t,” you sniffle. “Hurts too much being—”

“Hey, hey, hey, don’t say that, princess.” he interrupts, not wanting to hear your thought in full. “Don’t say things you don’t mean. You love me, yeah? Always gonna be my girl. Mine.”

And as if on command, you nod in acceptance. Because he’s right, you will always be his girl. Whether in an official capacity or not. Even the days you’re separated, he’s always on your mind. You worry that weeks, months or even years could pass without him and he’d still be on your mind.

A particular intense stroke inside of your gummy walls makes your body jolt and a heavy moan tears through your throat. He looks down, admiring where to two of you meet before searching your eyes.

“There, baby?” he asks, experimentally thrusting into the same spot. He grins when he hears you keen once again for him, prodding it again and again until your eyes spill over with tears from the blinding pleasure. “Theeeere she is, right there. Bet you wanna cum real bad, ‘cause I do.”

“I do!” you agree, cupping his face gently before kissing him. “I love you, Takuma, please don’t stop,” you whimper.

“I won’t baby, promise.” he assures you. It’s imperceptible, and he’s glad, you can’t see the relief washing over his entire body as he feels safe once again. You’re his, again. There’s nowhere else you should be but with him. “C-Can’t let my girl down, can I?” he grins.

And after everything. All of the hurt, all of the effort, all of the determination, you’re his again. All of that defiance was for nought. And yet, you’re smiling. Your hands helplessly grip his body, nails digging into his shoulder blades as you scratch, attempting to ground yourself.

His lips find yours, eager to silence himself as he brings you both closer and closer to your demise. His breaths are heavy, his nostrils flaring as he continues to pummel into you. Your kiss is sloppy, but perfect. The messy passion heightens your pleasure, somehow. His tongue finding your own reminds you that there’s no one in the world you’d rather be doing this with.

Every plunge of his length against your sweet spot feels like love. Pure, unadulterated, love. Everything you’ve ever wanted, ever needed, from Takuma this time.

And as you cum together, moaning into each other’s mouths, that feels deeper. He looks into your eyes as he fills you to the brim, your walls clench around him, desperate to keep him inside and milk him for all he’s worth. You never want this feeling to end, he’s the man of your dreams.

He kisses your neck as he continues to fuck himself inside of you, making sure to deposit every last drop of his love into you. He feels it too, it feels different to how it usually is.

Better, somehow.

The pecks of his lips slow as he ventures towards yours again. Each kiss is interpolated with ardour. He doesn’t want to risk stopping for fear of all of this coming undone. He doesn’t want you to see sense, again. Despite what you might think, he is in love. A love so intense he couldn’t begin to explain.

He eventually pulls away, bracing himself for what you might say.

But nothing comes.

He’s grinning from ear to ear because you don’t say a word. Not one. But your expression says it all. You look exhausted, but fulfilled. You look beautiful as bliss ravishes your drained form. However even without all that, he only needs to look into your eyes to see it.

You really are his girl again.

He can practically see the hearts shimmering in your irises. You’re looking up at him like you’ve fallen for that signature Takuma charm once again, but are you really so foolish? Even he is a little surprised.

He wants to do better, of course he does. And maybe this time he’ll really try. He doesn’t mean to let you down so often, it’s not like he wants to do it.

That’s just the type of guy he is.

The type to make promises he can’t keep.

© 2024 rinhaler

anon: okay but imagine ino sneaking in your bedroom every once in a while and fucking you into forgetting he's an absent boyfriend, he's always smoking with his friend (plug! sukuna *cough cough*) he's a trust fund baby, and the worst boyfriend ever but dick game is so good he has you thinking you can fix him, so every time you let him hit you are looking at him with heart eyes and it almosttt makes him want to do better

[vorfreudevortex]

redline masterlist

a street racer!ino takuma x f!reader fic

theme song // roi - instrumental slowed by mckyyy

moodboard

✰ life can only get better when you're sent off to japan to spend another summer with your older brother suguru and his best friend satoru. determined to become one of the best street racers in tokyo just like them, you spend every minute you can in a car. that is, until you catch the eye of takuma ino, the leader of the shadows and your brother’s rival. one glance at how ino looks at you leaves suguru strictly banning you from seeing him for your own good.

can you keep a secret from your beloved brother while you fight the scandal of being a female racer with him? or will everything skid out of your control before you have to return home? 

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introductions 1. clutch 2. SHDW1 3. three can keep a secret... 4. breathe 5. an angry ghost

warnings // swearing, alcohol, smoking, smut, reckless driving (duh), secret relationship, all characters in college or recently graduated, fighting

includes // suguru geto, satoru gojo, kento nanami, shoko ieiri, takuma ino, megumi fushiguro, choso kamo, aoi todo, itadori yuji, toji fushiguro, ryomen sukuna + more

✰ // the cars and the reader’s appearance in this fic are purposely kept ambiguous so you are free to have aspects look, feel, and be modified any way you’d like.

ongoing tag list // @stillnotherapy @rieamena @magiamad0ka @creteansailor @silentscrying @r-mich @jayathelostdragon @fuckedupphenom @eva-616 @esggs

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© vorfreudevortex | all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, repost, or otherwise share my work.

[veroniquesboutique]

A Wife's Intuition - Nanami Kento x Ino Takuma x Reader

Not me disappearing for months after a poll promising a JJK smut fic just to show back up with an unhinged threesome. School's out, and I am back!

You notice immediately that Ino Takuma is in love with your husband Nanami Kento. You are secure enough in your marriage to not be threatened by the crush. In fact, you might be super into it.

Title: A Wife' Intuition

Rating: Explicit

Warnings:

AFAB!Reader, Female Reader, Explicit PV Sex, Explicit Anal Sex, bottom Ino Takuma / top Nanami Kento, m-overstimulation, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, f-receiving oral, threesome - MMF, small age gap between reader/Nanami and Ino, cum inside, pet names (good girl, darling, my dear, sweetheart, my love, etc), fingering, Ino is whiney in this

Characters & ships: husband!Nanami Kento x Ino Takuma x Reader

Word count: 2.9k words

18+ Minors DNI!

More explicit below the cut

You are so secure in your marriage with Nanami Kento that the sight before you of his cock disappearing into Ino Takuma’s ass doesn’t bother you in the slightest. In fact, you have the added benefit of Ino’s tongue between your thighs to complement the view.

_________________

This whole thing started because of your wife intuition. Nanami had invited Ino over for dinner a few nights ago, and the whole evening you watched Ino make heart eyes over your entirely oblivious husband. You weren’t convinced Ino had even noticed your presence until you brought out the homemade pineapple upside down cake you made, and even then, he spared little more than a passing glance before gluing his gaze back on Nanami’s jawline and sparkling brown eyes.

You could almost see Ino be carried off by cupid’s arrows.

“Do you know he’s in love with you?” You asked as soon as you shut the door after Ino said his goodbyes. Nanami scoffed, completely taken aback by your observation, as he loosened the tie around his neck and started back to the kitchen to help with clean up.

“In love with me? Are you mad?”

You followed behind him and settled next to him to dry the plates he washed in the sink. It’s an easy routine you fall into every night.

“I just know what it looks like to be in love with you. I’m, like, the expert.” You playfully smirked when he gazed down at you with a high arched eyebrow in disbelief. “He didn’t look over at me once all night. He just kept going ‘yes Mr. Nanami, sir’ and ‘oh Mr. Nanami you’re so funny’ and ‘wow Mr. Nanami you have such interesting stories!’” You mocked Ino’s voice to prove a point, and it made Nanami laugh.

“That’s just respect, sweetheart-”

“No, no I played the same game. I can tell you for sure that it’s not just respect.” You punctuated your thought with a gentle bat of the tea towel in your hand against his forearm as he drained the dishwater from the sink. As you fluttered away to deal with the leftovers, Nanami stayed at the sink for a few long moments, his head busy with thought as he stared out the small window sat right above the sink.

A night or two after that, as you were getting ready for bed, you realized that Nanami was unable to read as he usually did. Instead, he’d go a few pages before zoning out, arm of his glasses gently tapping between his teeth. When you finally got into bed next to him, he didn’t even flinch.

“Earth to Kento?” You tapped him on his shoulder, and he shook ever so slightly from the daydream he was in. “What’s on your mind?”

“Work, naturally,” He answered curtly, and you furrowed your brows at the tone of his response.

“Who’s got your panties in a bunch?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Work, naturally,” You mocked his tone now, putting on a face to show exactly how weird he sounded. He rolled his eyes, placing his book on the table next to him and settling his glasses on his face to get a good look at you.

“Am I not allowed to be distracted by…disgruntled by work sometimes?”

“Of course you’re allowed to be, but you never sound like that. Something is bothering you.”

“I am sorry that my tone is not perfect for you always, my dear, but-”

“See you only call me dear when you’re being weird about things!” You interrupted him, and it made him blow a sigh out of his nose as he brought a hand up to rub at his chin. He stared at you, waiting for you to back down, but instead, you studied his eyes for what could be bothering him. “So what is distracting you at work?”

“I said disgruntled.”

“You said distracted first,” You tapped your finger on the tip of your nose in thought, thinking, thinking, thinking, and then the light bulb blinked above your head. “You’re distracted by Ino.”

“Absolutely not.” He rolled his eyes as he turned away, but the bright pink blush illuminating his skin gave away his lies. You had to slap a hand over your mouth to keep from laughing.

“Aw, is Kento embarrassed about a little schoolboy crush?” You playfully asked as he sunk into the sheets away from your gaze, but this caused him to stare up at you in disbelief.

“I do not have a crush!”

“I never said you did.”

“I hate these mind games you play.”

“The lady doth protest too much me thinks,” You hummed lowly, and finally in defeat he pressed his head back into the headboard of your shared bed.

“How are you not jealous?” He asked, scratching uncomfortably at the skin behind his ear. You waved a hand up and down your body, pointing out in particular the silky nightie you wore to bed.

“You’re not going to cheat on me. You’re madly in love with me. I’m secure enough in our marriage to not be threatened by a teenage boy-”

“Oh my God, please do not call him that!”

“He’s 19; it’s just the truth.”

“He’s 21, pretty much our age, and totally legal-”

You gasped as he blurted out his response. “Oh my God, you’ve thought about it!”

He groaned loudly at the way you’re running circles around his brain, and he dropped his face into his hands dejectedly. “I’m a terrible husband.” His admittance was barely above a whisper, and you could hear the crack in his voice, and you knew immediately he was taking it too hard. You curled up next to him, patting his arm and shushing him softly.

“Kento, you’re not a terrible husband at all. All married people think about others at some point in their relationship. I’m just surprised at who.”

Nanami groaned again in response.

“Have you ever thought about being with a man before?” You asked softly, and you could nearly feel the skin under your fingers burn as an embarrassed blush shoots through him.

“I can’t believe we’re having this conversation.”

“I can’t believe we haven’t already had this conversation.”

He considered for a second, finally lifting his head from his hands to stare you down, search for any jealousy behind your eyes, but when you told him you were completely secure, you meant it. When he seemed satisfied with what he saw, he sighed.

“Perhaps in the past I…considered….it.” “Have you been with a man before?”

There was a beat. “Yes. Well before you.”

You looked up at your husband, and you considered him and the idea of him having been with a man at some point before you, and you felt your own skin heat up. The image made your heart beat a little faster and your skin tingle where he touched you and your head swirl in circles but not from jealousy or anger but from…lust.

He insisted you slept in his arms that night, but neither of you seemed to sleep very well with the thoughts left twirling in your brain. A few days after that is when you made your proposition.

“Kento?” You called to him from the position where you were perched on the couch with your own book in hand. Your husband was fluttering around your house and getting ready for work.

“Yes, my love?”

“What if we ask Ino if he wants to have a threesome?”

Nanami’s first response was a loud crashing sound from in your closet. His second response was a string of swears as he fumbled out of the bedroom and into the living room where you sat. His third response was finally words.

“A threesome? With us?”

“Well, not with anyone else. I’m not that chill.” You laughed, and it broke Nanami’s shocked expression for just a moment with a small smirk of laughter.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I think so. I’ve been thinking about this new discovery I’ve made of your…interests,” You wiggled your eyebrows suggestively at him, “And I think…I think my feral animal brain really, really wants to watch you fuck a man.”

He nearly choked at your honesty, and it excited you just a little to see that pink blush paint his face again. He fiddled with his tie, considering what to say in response for so long you started to think maybe you misread the whole situation.

But then, you didn’t. You have a wife’s intuition.

“I’ll speak to him,” He stated, too calm and collected, clearing his throat. “Today, maybe.”

_________________

And that’s how you found yourself here, with Ino moaning between your legs, his tongue a torrent against your most sensitive areas as Nanami thrusts balls deep into him from behind. You pant, hand gripping Ino’s hair tightly, as you stare at your husband, afraid you might miss something. The way his lip is tight in his teeth, the way his pupils dilate every time he hears you or Ino moan, the way sweat is already dripping slowly down his rippling abdomen with every thrust. It’s like your own personal porn staring your husband.

“He’s just so big,” Ino grunts into you, and you smile and throw your head back.

“I know, sweetheart.”

“I think I’m going to cum again.”

“I want to watch your pretty face as you cum for my husband,” You encourage slyly, and you hear Nanami scoff a laugh away as he leans into the mean thrusts he’s ramming into Ino below him. Ino’s eyes roll to the back of his head, and you watch as he sputters a few shots of cum onto the already messy sheets below. You scratch his scalp as he drops his head, panting and gasping for air; Nanami fucks him through the orgasm just like he would you.

“Flip him over,” Nanami grunts, pulling back so you can help Ino onto his back, and the way his body is shaking, he seems thankful for the pause.

Now that he’s on his back, you run your hands down his chest as Nanami gently readjusts himself. Gently, your nails graze over Ino’s nipples, twitching the pink buds lightly, and his finger tips grip into your thighs as his back arches ever so softly off the bed.

Nanami lifts Ino’s hips and guides him back gently onto his cock, and Ino writhes with the feeling of being so full again.

You hold his head in your lap and pet his hair out of his face, cooing softly with each near sobbing groan Nanami rips from his chest. He’s holding Ino’s ankles, pressing them back to be able to reach even deeper, but his eyes are on you brushing your thumbs down Ino’s cheeks and jaw.

“Oh God - Mr. - Mr. Nanami, I can’t-”

You brush your thumb against his lips to cut his words into moans. “He prefers Kento, love. Call him Kento.”

“K-k-k-kento, please, it’s too much,” Ino sobs as Nanami forces him to dribble another orgasm out of his shaking body. You throw your head back and laugh softly at the sight, and it’s then that Nanami leans all the way forward, ignoring Ino’s squirming and overstimulated body between you, and captures your lips in a long, sensual kiss. His tongue laps at your lips, and you gently trap it in your teeth, sucking it into your mouth with precision and dedication. Ino reaches and grips your hips, panting and staring in awe at the sight of you two above him.

“I want to taste my wife,” Nanami whispers as you pull away from him, and so you lean back again, spreading your legs as Nanami pulls out of Ino. Ino starts to move out of Nanami’s way, but you grab his shoulder and keep him between your thighs.

“You can stay,” You whisper, encouraging, and when Nanami lays down next to Ino, he runs a strong hand down his back to keep him there too. You spread your legs a little wider to accommodate the shoulders of both men.

Nanami starts with a soft bite to your inner thigh that makes you shiver, and Ino presses soft kisses against all the skin he can reach. You press your head back into the pillow, arching your back, and let out a long moan as Nanami’s tongue swipes against your clit. He sucks at you softly, his lips causing your eyelids to flutter and the breath to get caught in your throat. Ino presses his lips to your hip, occasionally biting the skin there, but his eyes are glued to Nanami eating you out.

“Here,” Nanami breathes out against you, and he takes Ino’s hand, folding his fingers and guiding his pointer and middle into you. Both you and Ino moan as you clench around his hand, and Nanami starts guiding Ino’s wrist in and out of you as he continues to lap at your clit. “Curl your fingers.”

Ino takes commands well, especially when they’re from Nanami, and you can immediately feel the change in pressure as he hits that sweet spot deep inside you with the help of Nanami’s direction. You curl your toes and grip the pillows under your head, your jaw dropping and locking open in a silent scream of pleasure.

“Your wife is so pretty,” Ino whispers, watching Nanami’s face curl into a smile as he changes to a fast flicking pace with his tongue. His only response is to guide Ino’s wrist faster into you. Your legs shake at the stimulation.

“I’m going to cum,” You finally groan out, pants and whimpers falling from your lips in a crazed state.

“Good girl,” Nanami whispers, joining Ino’s fingers with one of his own, bigger fingers inside of you, and the sudden stretch pushes you over the edge. You cum on their fingers, your pussy pulsating against them, and Ino gulps in shock and awe, which makes you laugh a little when you can catch your breath.

Without any words, Nanami leans up onto his knees and guides Ino to a spot beside you. He lifts your hips, and as he places soft kiss down the leg he places on his shoulder, you feel his tip tease your entrance, and the stimulation makes you roll your eyes back into your head.

“God, please fuck me Kento,” You groan, and that’s all he needs to plunge into you. Your vision nearly whites out as he bottoms out inside of you with ease, and the grumbling moan that comes from deep in his chest as you clench his length makes your toes tingle. He fucks into you, the pace rough and hitting you deeply and intensely, and it is contrasted by the way his fingers draw gentle circles in your skin wherever he can reach to touch you. Ino watches in fascination at you and your husband make dirty love to each other.

“Ino,” Nanami grunts out, jutting his chin to the place you and him are connected, “help us out like we helped you out?”

Ino nods obediently, and immediately, his fingers on one hand find your oversensitive clit while his other hand reaches around and cups Nanami’s balls as they hit against your skin. You both groan, and Nanami falls forward slightly, his lips hungrily finding yours. Your kisses are messy and wet, and they make you feel all the more sensitive as Ino rubs you in all the right places. Ino seems to hesitate next to you, leaning his head towards Nanami’s shoulder but afraid to interrupt.

“Go ahead, Ino,” You encourage, and so Ino shyly places his forehead to Nanami’s shoulder. He presses his lips against Nanami’s rippling arm muscles, and it makes Nanami shiver against you, a pant of pleasure escaping from his mouth into yours at the gentle attention Ino is paying to him.

“I’m so close, my love,” Nanami moans into your mouth, so you take his face in your hands.

“Cum in me, darling, please,” You moan back, and the groan that pours from Nanami’s lips as he throws his head back, exposing his neck to you, is enough to make you finish on his cock. Your whole body locks up as waves of pleasure burst through your body, your lips desperately sucking at Nanami’s neck for something, anything to ground you. Your eyes roll back as Ino keeps overstimulating you, and it the feeling of your clenching, desperate pussy that makes Nanami finish. You feel him pour hot ropes of his cum into you, and it causes one last shiver of pleasure roll down your spine. Nanami nearly collapses on top of you as Ino sits back on the bed.

After a moment of silence, you laugh. “God, you’re so good at that.” Nanami laughs tiredly and cockily in response. Sex seems to be the only time he’s not so humble, and it’s lucky for you that it’s deserved pride.

“Isn’t he good at that!” You turn towards Ino, who is blushing right next to you.

“Y-yeah, he’s really great.”

“Ino, don’t let her bully you into complimenting me.”

He bites his lip, and you let your eyes drop down to his lap. The sight brings a smile to your face.

Ino’s cock is hard once again, standing at attention and leaking with need. When Ino sees you staring, he covers his face with his hands in embarrassment.

“Well, darling,” you wiggle out from under Nanami and gesture towards Ino’s new burgeoning hard on. Nanami lets out an impressed sigh, his eyebrow cocking high on his forehead. “I hope you’re ready to go again.”

[silentscrying]

🎸 out of my mind !

guitarist!ino x drummer!reader

summary: it's the annual battle of the bands at the fix, your college campus's iconic live music bar, and this year you're taking the stage as the drummer for indie rock group cursed technique. you know the competition is strong, but no part of you is ready for lead singer and guitarist takuma ino. you lock eyes at the edge of the stage, and something starts—something that might make you feel alive even more than the beat of the drums.

content: 45.6k words. complete. f!reader, warnings preceding each chapter, ino's lead singer/guitar, you're a drummer in another band, bar owner shoko, bartenders gojo/geto/utahime, no use of y/n, sfw, gratuitous use of italics and swearing.

directory meet shibuya incident | meet cursed technique | meet black flash | meet the rest of the contestants | welcome to the fix 💿 // track one: the hell happened in shibuya? track two: kowalski, status report track three: something about a beat track four: a conflict of interest track five: the battle of the bands // 💿

jjk taglist open: just send me a message!

@shutuppeter @mikikkoo @reactwithjan @theclassbookworm @lilactaro @bisforbuse @risararelywrites @idkidk32 @gojodickbig @stargazing-with-choso @anonymity-222 @honeyyhuggs

a/n: FOR ALL FIVE INO FANS, here is my new brainrot. the title is a little image song that i think has the general vibes of what ino's band is going for. also, this is the most self-insert thing i've ever written in my life. journalism major in a shitty college band? too on the nose, aren't we? oops. please enjoy

[luvlyycy]

h a v e f u n . . . . ! !

next page . ->

ONE PUNCH MAN — (active)

Aftermath, Garou fingered you so hard his wound opened.

MHA — (extremely active)

Dabi's face when he cums.

um, idk questionable stuff?? :

Tomura has cameras in your dorm room.

How Tomura dates you.

college!au:

Late night cuddling with your boyfriend, Tomura.

Tomura's first kiss.

Taking care of Tomura.

Tomura's mommy kink.

Cuddling with Tomura after he games.

Dabi loves giving you princess treatment.

Jacking off Tomura in class

Face-Sitting with the college loser, Tomura.

Maybe that one pathetic guy, is kinda hot. Tomura, right?

— — ☆

Tricking Keigo into buying food for you !!

DEATH NOTE — (semi-active)

Light helps you understand, killing yourself isn't right .

VALORANT — (semi- active)

Iso N Yoru boyfriend hcs ! (sfw!)

Vampire ! Agents Series —

¹ Yoru — ,

ONE PIECE — (semi-active)

Law n his fucked out gf

Sleepy Bath Sex with Zoro <3

Cocky Law..

Ace makes his gf squirt for the first time .

Sanji barks for you.

'Helping' Zoro work out.

Backshot King : Ace .

Zoro's a ruff fucker .

Sanji loves boobs .

Sanji Eating Pussy Trilogy : 1 , 2 , 3

Mihawk loves to spoil you .

Law cums soooo much .

Katakuri's cock is extremely big .

Ass Eater Ace.

Soft Sleepy Zoro ..

Law fucks like he hates you !

Nami n Robin threesome [wlw]

Zoro Loves the number Three .

Zoro n Sanji eatin u out !

Law Is kinda Pathetic .

Happy Birthday, Sanji .

Sanji Can't keep his hands to himself.

————ᵔ ∇ ᵔ

Law scolds you for eating chocolate.

Law is ugly .. in a pretty way.

Sanji's got a crush,, but you're like him?

Kissing Zoro on the ship.

Ace plays with you hair.

Sleeping with Ace is so frustrating.

Zoro confesses !

JUJUTSU KAISEN — (semi-active)

Yuuta's breeding kink (short)

Nyasty Sugu (short)

Jacking off Ino Takuma <3

God, Suguru— It won't fit !

Satoru: The pussy kisser.

Her or Him?? [TojiKuna x Reader // pt 1.]

————ᵔ ∇ ᵔ

Comfort me, Sukuna.

What do your tats mean, Kuna?

Show me your piercings, Kuna?

Why do you wear rings, Kuna?

Face Masks, Kuna?

TEKKEN — (non-active)

What being loved by Lee Chaolan is like.

Claudio .. how I love.

Lee loves pussy.

Eating pussy headcanons .

BLEACH — (active)

college au ! :

Ulquiorra meets you at a college party.

-------------

Ichigo eating pussaayy

Ichigo with a daddy kink is unrivaled, i fear.

Renji with a girl who yaps !

STREET FIGHTER — (semi-active)

A.K.I is good at what she does . .

Ed : Breaking your back.

Sheeshhhh, Ed !

Ed is so damn fine .

———— ᵔ ∇ ᵔ

2000's Night at the club with Ed!

Ed dating a pink girl .

HOYOVERSE — (semi-active)

Arataki Itto fingers his lil sister !!

Stupid, Childe.. stop teasing.. [college!au]

Nasty, pervert brother — stupid, Childe!!

Sampo n Aventurine: Pussy Killers .

Sampo can't stop eating pussy !!!

Big Bro!Gallagher fingers his lil sister..

Blade's thick cock .

Ugh, Step-Bro!Childe..

Wriothesely n his bimbo .

DC UNIVERSE — (semi-active)

Arkham Knight!Jason jacks off.

Hate-Sex with Jason Todd.

———— ᵔ ∇ ᵔ

Chubby!Reader x Jason Todd <3

Jason 'Brat Dad' Todd.

Jason comes home at 3AM

MISC — (randos..)

KOF Men × Smutty Scenarios

Domon Kasshu's ears turn red when flustered.

League of Legends Kayn : Backshot Demon .

Hidan's dirty talk.

Having sex with Hidan includes...

Toxic Pokemon Men : Piers , Raihan .

———— ᵔ ∇ ᵔ

Venom loves you too.

Miguel O'hara being your chew toy.

Maybe Miguel has a biting kink..

Like what you read? Nice , here's some cake ! 🍰

You have a request? Here's my rules , 🍪 , now you can request here , 🍩 . Thank you !

(ﾉ^∇^)ﾉ !! nonnies !! — , 🐦‍⬛, 🍪 , 🥥 , 🫀 , 🩰, 🪼 !!

[mythmash]

In Sickness

Pairing: Takuma Ino x F!Reader Word Count: 2.6k Warnings: birthday sickfic, lots of fluff, implied smut A/N: This was written for the wonderful @pastelbunnelby! JJK Masterlist

If there’s one thing Ino loves more than you, it’s the chance to celebrate you.

He’s been looking forward to your birthday for weeks, excitement pouring out of him each day it grew closer. A day hasn’t gone by without him dropping little hints hidden behind that charming grin of his. And it’d be a lie to say his eagerness wasn’t contagious. Every tease, every clue, every promise that your first birthday as a couple would be nothing short of spectacular had you eagerly awaiting the day almost as much as him.

That eagerness turns to pure, unfiltered excitement the night before your birthday when a box appears at your front door. It’s plain, smooth black material tied with a silky, white ribbon. The size tells you it’s either a dress or an outfit, but the card tucked into the ribbon gives you clear instructions not to open it until morning. Your fingers itch to disobey, nails picking at the edges of the ribbon, the corners of the lid, any part they can reach as you carry the box to your bedroom.

A little peek wouldn’t hurt, right?

Knowing what you’ll be wearing would help you figure out how to do your hair…

What if there are no shoes in the box? You wouldn’t want Ino’s plans to be delayed because you spent too long finding the right pair.

What if it’s not an outfit at all? That’s even more time you’ll waste trying to find something else to wear.

Your mind races with a million reasons to tear into the box, fingers already curling under the lid.

But Ino’s handsome face flashes through your mind, a tight smile hiding his imagined disappointment. Something knots in your stomach, immediately repulsed at possibly ruining weeks of work. If Ino can manage to wait this long without spoiling the surprise, you can too.

You quell your anxious urges by sending him a picture of yourself holding the box before tucking it beneath your bed. Out of sight, out of mind.

Ino responds immediately, your phone buzzing once, twice, thrice as you prepare for bed.

Several texts await you when you finally settle in bed. A slew of heart emojis followed by a paragraph of compliments and finished with a single text wishing you a good night. You can’t help the laughter that bubbles out of you, feeling the warmth in your cheeks and the thrumming in your heart at the thought of him so excited to spend time with you.

You fall asleep staring at his photo beaming at you from the lock screen of your phone, and dream of all the ways you’ll spend tomorrow.

With all of your anticipation, it’s only fitting that you wake early the next morning with a throbbing pain nested comfortably in your head. When you shift beneath your covers, the pain spreads to your limbs, leaving a resounding ache. Every move, every blink, every thought only serves to make you feel worse until you grow frustrated and force yourself to sit up.

Your mistake is quickly realized as your vision doubles, stomach turning so violently you choke trying to swallow down your dry heave.

Of all the days for this to happen.

Carefully laying yourself back down, you gingerly slide your hand to the side for your phone. It takes a sickening effort to lift your phone and even more to get it close to your face. The artificial light is nearly blinding in the early morning hours, sending renewed pulses of pain through your skull. You put all your focus and concentration into unlocking your phone and finding Ino’s texts. There’s no way you’ll be able to form a proper sentence, much less type it out.

You’re not entirely sure what you say to him in the voice note. You know what you meant to say — something along the lines of “I’m so sorry, I think I’m sick.” — but your throat scratches with every word. Combined with your already sleep-thick voice, the message is short and takes what little energy you have left.

You succumb to your body’s exhaustion with the thought that maybe you should’ve called him.

When you wake again, it’s late in the morning. While your body no longer vibrates with pain, the heat building beneath your covers is suffocating and the scratch in your throat has grown significantly. Sweat-soaked and barely awake, you stumble your way to your bathroom and into the shower.

Most of your shower is spent sitting on the floor, letting the icy water wash across your overheated skin. You don’t bother with anything more than that, only just able to power through brushing your teeth before you feel that draining heaviness growing in your limbs.

You collapse on your bed, draped over your blankets half-dressed in clean pajamas, and fumble once more for your phone. You’re able to send an actual text this time, informing Ino of your current state and apologizing profusely. There’s no response, not even his usual thumbs up or heart reaction.

Ino isn’t one to get upset when plans change, always happy to go with the flow, but you know how much he was looking forward to today. He could need a moment to deal with his disappointment. Or he could be busy and not looking at his phone. You don’t want to jump to conclusions and assume the worst, but the guilt swimming around in your head has your anxiety on high.

Eyelids growing heavy, you tell yourself you’ll try again in fifteen minutes. If that doesn’t work, then you’ll call him.

Fifteen minutes, you think, letting your head sink into the soft cushion of your pillow.

All you need is fifteen minutes…

Three knocks in quick succession pull you out of your dreamless sleep. You wake confused and slightly startled, groaning into your pillow as the light and sound and blankets draped over you hit you all at once.

“Sorry.” Ino’s voice reaches your ears, gentle and soothing. You chase the sound, the comfort it brings, turning your head in the direction of his voice. The light is still too much for you, peering one eye open to gaze at the concerned face of your boyfriend. He kneels beside your bed, dressed down to a black shirt and loose shorts with his beanie resting on your nightstand.

“Morning,” you rasp, lips pulled into a tired smile.

“Evening,” Ino chuckles, reaching out to tenderly place the back of his hand against your damp forehead. “Looks like your fever’s gone down.”

“How long have you been here?” You speak slowly, trying not to agitate your already raw throat. Ino hums, turning his hand to rest it against your cheek. You lean into his touch, the soft glide of his thumb over your cheekbone nearly soothing you back to sleep.

“Couple hours,” Ino shrugs. “I got us lunch, but you were knocked out pretty good.”

“What time is it?” you ask, turning your head in search of your phone. Ino pulls his hand away to pluck your phone from where it’s hidden beneath his beanie, plugged in to charge.

“Not late enough to worry your pretty little head,” he teases. He doesn’t tell you, but the burnt orange shining through your windows gives you your answer. Guilt settles firmly in the pit of your stomach, not helped by the empathetic smile Ino gives you. Not a hint of anger or disappointment, only concern tinted with sadness.

Somehow, that feels worse.

You turn away, face pressed into the pillow as you give a muffled, “’m sorry.”

“You’re apologizing? For being sick?” There’s a pinch to your cheek, playfully scolding. You huff, puffing out your cheeks to push his hand away before shifting to sit up. Ino hovers beside you, ready and waiting if you need him.

“But…I ruined your plans…” you murmur. Fingers worrying at the blankets, you keep your gaze fixed on a loose thread you tear from the soft material.

“Hey—” A gentle grasp on your chin carefully turns your head until you’re face to face with Ino, “—you didn’t ruin anything.”

He leans forward, lightly pressing his forehead to yours.

“But—”

“Nope.” He cuts your words off with a swift kiss to your nose.

“I wasn’t—”

Another kiss. Then a peck to your cheek.

“Ino—”

He moves for your lips, and you swiftly cover his mouth with your palm.

“You’re going to get sick,” you scold him. His response is another kiss immediately followed by his tongue messily sliding up your palm. You shove his face away, smiling through your disgusted scoff as his laughter echoes in your room.

“It’s too late for that, anyway. I took a nap with you earlier.”

“You—what?” Ino’s up and moving before you have time to process that.

He searches through your clothes, casually moving between your closet and dresser. He pauses once, a pair of your favorite fuzzy socks in hand, speaking to you over his shoulder, “You think you can get up?”

“Yeah, I think so,” you nod. He hums, satisfied, tossing you the socks before moving back to your closet. He fishes through your clothes for a bit longer while you pull the socks on, but gives up his search when you move to sit on the edge of your bed. Ino grins, standing before you with his hands out.

“Up and at ‘em!” he cheers as you set your hands in his and he helps you to your feet. You wobble, but Ino is quick to steady you against his chest. He gives you a minute to adjust to being upright for the first time in hours, placing several kisses on the side of your head.

“I’m okay,” you assure him, reaching down to squeeze his hand.

“Good,” Ino hums, moving out of your reach to stand behind you. “Now, you trust me, right?”

“Of course,” you answer instantly. Ino pauses for a moment, the stillness only broken when he leaves a long kiss on the side of your neck. He mutters something, and you catch the words perfect and lucky somewhere in there before he clears his throat.

“Cover your eyes for me?”

You do as he says, eyes sliding shut before you cover them with your hands.

One of Ino’s hands rests in the middle of your back, the other on your arm. His radiating warmth sinks into your skin, chasing away the chill of your lingering fever.

“You let me know if you need a break, okay?”

There’s some shuffling behind you as Ino leans forward, lips grazing the shell of your ear. His voice low, a familiar timbre reserved only for you, you can hear the smirk when he reminds you, “No peeking.”

Ino leads you to your bedroom door, separating from you for a brief moment to hold it open for you. You’re guided down the short hallway from your room to the living room where a delicious, savory scent awaits you accompanied by a subtle rush of warm air and soft music.

“Okay,” Ino breathes, pulling away from you. You can hear his feet shuffling around the room, the clink of metal, and the rustling of…tissue paper? Ino mutters something again, taking a deep, uncharacteristically nervous, breath.

“Open your eyes.”

It’s not often you’re left speechless, but the sight of your living room takes your breath away. The lights are off, replaced by the glowing amber of the electric candles set up around the room. Music plays from Ino’s phone, something delicate and classical at a volume low enough to hear, but not too loud to worsen your headache. Your coffee table is decorated with tiny candles and flowers, plates and silverware set up like a romantic dinner with soup from your favorite restaurant and wine glasses filled with ginger ale.

And at the center of it all stands Ino, holding a gift bag and bouquet of your favorite flowers.

“Happy birthday.”

“You planned all this?” you ask, nearly breathless.

“There was some last-minute improvising, but it’s most of what I planned.” Ino ducks his head, bashful as he attempts to avoid your eyes.

“It’s perfect.”

He perks up as you make your way towards him.

“Rea—”

You interrupt him, hands on his cheeks as you pull him in to meet your lips. You don’t pull away, instead peppering thankful kisses from his mouth to each cheek.

“What happened to me getting sick?” Ino laughs, trying to chase your lips and meet you kiss for kiss.

You take a step back, hand pressed to your chest in mock offense. “So you don’t want me to kiss you?”

Ino sets the gift bag down, moving to wrap an arm around your waist with surprising speed. It’s his turn to smother you in affection as he switches between kisses and nuzzling against your cheek. His nose tickles against your face, giggles spilling out of you.

"I didn't say that."

It’s a sweet moment, one you’ll surely treasure for the rest of your life until the laughter catches up with you and the giggles turn to coughing.

Ino guides you to get comfortable at the coffee table, setting your flowers down on the sofa behind you before he settles in next to you.

Dinner is peaceful, content. Ino lets you lean against him, one arm wrapped around your shoulders, as you slowly get through your soup, telling you stories about his friends, his job, anything that he knows will make you smile. He admits to annoying his mentor, Nanami, with his unreserved excitement for your birthday, and kisses away the niggling guilt that crosses your face.

“We have plenty of time. We can do it all another day,” he says easily.

“Good,” you huff, tucking yourself against his side as he takes a sip from his glass. “I want to wear the outfit you got me.”

Ino sputters and chokes, turning away from you to cough into the crook of his elbow.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Ino waves you away, turning further and further every time you lean closer. There’s only so far he can go, and it isn’t hard to catch the blazing red of his cheeks.

Was he flustered over the dress? Why? It wouldn’t be the first time he’s bought clothes for you; he’s never been this shy about it before. The only time you can remember seeing him like this was on your fourth date when you walked by a window display that had a pale pink mannequin wearing—

Worry melts into mischief as you practically crawl your way into his lap until he’s forced to face you.

“Did you get me lingerie for my birthday?”

Ino groans, tucking his head so far into the crook of your neck you can’t tell if the heat is coming from your fever or his face.

“You said you liked it in the window.” Ino lifts his head just enough to pout at you. You lean down, setting your forehead to his with a soft, teasing smile.

“We have plenty of time.” You mimic his earlier words, watching the embarrassment ease from his mind as his eyes fall to your lips. Ino leans forward, and you don’t stop him.

“Why wait?” he asks, glancing up at you as if asking for permission. When you don’t object, he inches closer and closer and closer, not quite kissing you but nearly there.

“I really don’t want you to get sick,” you murmur against his lips.

Ino closes the gap with a searing kiss, pouring every ounce of care and affection he has for you into it. You’re sick and sweaty and gross, but the way he kisses you leaves you feeling so wanted, so precious, so loved.

He breaks away only for a second, a wide grin spread across his lips.

“Worth it.”

And when Ino gets sick four days later, you’re right there beside him with warm soup and endless kisses.

[xileonaaaa]

HAIIIIII :3 ‼️ could you write some hcs abt ino takuma x f!reader :D plsss ??

that’d be much appreciated, ty <3

Aweeee I love the pic so much. 💕 (I got carried away, but I hope you enjoy.)

Thinking of Ino who meets you during a trip to Nanami’s favorite bakery…

✦•┈┈┈┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑ ┈┈┈┈•✦

──★ ˙

Ino!Takuma who’s the type of guy who swears up and down that he’ll never get into a relationship because how stressful it seems. (He watched too many of those depressing, heartbroken Instagram reels.)

Ino!Takuma whose the type of guy that genuinely appreciates all forms of beauty, he isn’t picky at all. If a person happens to look good, he isn’t afraid to walk up to them, and compliment them.

Ino!Takuma who literally felt like a totally different person when he noticed your presence. The over confident, and usually social guy actually found himself shying away from the bakery’s main window as he caught a glimpse of you peering in at the pastries from the outside. (You were beyond gorgeous, and he couldn’t help but gawk at the sight of your curious form gazing around the transparent glass.)

Ino!Takuma who quickly looked away when he met your gaze for the first time, his face radiating with heat as he shoved his beanie down over his forehead, and fumbled for his phone to use as a distraction.

Ino!Takuma who found himself desperately wanting to sink back into his own skin the moment he heard the door chime jingle as it opened.

Ino!Takuma who watched you peer around at the different pastries on display, obviously wanting to get a closer look at the ones you couldn’t see very well from outside.

Ino!Takuma who didn’t even hear the poor baker that was working the register, call his name saying that Nanami’s order was ready for pickup. (She had to say ‘Excuse me sir’ like four times.)

Ino!Takuma who quickly tore his eyes away from you once he realized that the lady was calling for him. He apologized profusely, and couldn’t help but chuckle and rub at his nape, as the woman gave him an all knowing smile.

Ino!Takuma who dismissed the unspoken accusations, just telling her that he only thought you were pretty, but didn’t want to bother you.

Ino!Takuma who waved the clerk a polite goodbye, before hastily turning around and running straight into you.

Ino!Takuma who was obviously stunned at the sudden interaction, but thankfully didn’t freeze, and was able to catch you in time with one arm before you fell.

Ino!Takuma who helped you gain your balance before hastily apologizing, and asking if you were okay. He was shocked the first time he ever heard your voice, all light hearted as you let a small laugh escape your lips. (He thought you were gonna curse at him to watch where he was going or something. Why? He doesn’t even know himself.)

Ino!Takuma who shared a laugh with you, as you murmured something about how his move to save you from falling mimicked something straight out of a Disney movie.

Ino!Takuma who felt a little bummed when your interaction was cut short by a phone call from Nanami asking where he was, and what was taking him so long.

Ino!Takuma who gave you a nervous smile, before waving goodbye, and darting out of that small bakery. (He knows it was a wuss move to use Nanami’s call as an excuse to get away, but what could he do? He wasn’t feeling like his normal, chill self, instead he felt all nervous, and anxious. How strange.)

Ino!Takuma who spent the entire week thinking about the pretty girl he’d met at the small bakery that Nanami usually frequented. He’d been thinking about going back there for the longest, but he felt like he never really had a proper excuse to. (Nanami was back on schedule, so he didn’t need Ino to pick up his lunch for him.)

Ino!Takuma who mustered up the courage to drop by the bakery without an order from Nanami to pick up. It’d been two weeks since he’d last been there, and when he walked in, he was surprised to see you nestled up by a front window, typing away at your computer.

Ino!Takuma who’d spent the better half of an hour in his car, hyping himself up, and running through possible conversation dialogues, found himself at a complete, and utterly loss after he’d told the clerk that he wasn’t here to pick up Nanami’s usual.

Ino!Takuma who nearly leapt out of his skin when he heard your smooth, tired voice echo from behind him, as he saw your hand scoot your empty coffee cup towards the clerk.

Ino!Takuma who stole a glance at you, as you waited for your refill. He wondered if you still remembered him, just as vividly as he remembered you. (He got his answer when you teased him about not bumping into you again, because this time you had coffee.)

Ino!Takuma who stuttered for the very first time since 2nd grade, as he quietly asked for a recommendation from you.

Ino!Takuma who turned to face you, as he observed your facial expressions while you pondered. (You spilled out a few pastries that were your personal favorites, and he repeated everything to the clerk, claiming that he wanted to try them all to broaden his palate.)

Ino!Takuma who found that conversing with you wasn’t as hard as it seemed, and you even invited him back to sit at your table. (He was so nervous, but he agreed, and the two of you talked for hours, all while he tried out the pastries you’d recommended to him. The conversation ranging from Anime, to your job, and other interests.)

Ino!Takuma who walked you out to your car when it was time for you to go. (He really didn’t want to part ways, and you somehow caught on to his dejected aura. After bidding you a goodnight, he turned to walk away, but you called out to him, and told him that you were always in this bakery, and if he stopped by, maybe the two of you could hang out like this again. He agreed almost immediately.)

Ino!Takuma who took you up on your offer, and visited that bakery every single day, just to talk to you. (The more he conversed with you, the more open, and overall relaxed he became.)

Ino!Takuma who established a good relationship with you, even going so far as to calling you his “bakery buddy”.

Ino!Takuma who happened to walk into the small bakery a bit earlier than he usually did, one particular morning, and caught sight of some guy and his friends trying to get your number.

Ino!Takuma whose initial reaction was to freeze by the door, and just watch the whole thing go down, found himself feeling a bit nervous. (Not because of the guys of course, he was just worried that you’d actually take them up on their offer to exchange contacts. After all, they were good looking, all of them had on stuff that was more expensive than the custom rims he liked to buy for his car. They literally outclassed him in every possible way.)

Ino!Takuma who released the biggest sigh of relief when he heard you politely turn them down, and return your focus back to your computer. (He’d never seen you act so coldly, and he wondered if you despised those types of stuck up guys.)

Ino!Takuma who felt his eye twitch in anger as he heard one of them murmur a slur under his breath, and another call you a bitch.

Ino!Takuma who had to hold his own self back as he nearly swung a punch towards one of the guys who was talking the most smack. He had to keep reminding himself that it wasn’t exactly his place to do that. (He wasn’t your boyfriend or anything, so all he could afford to do was stare them down as they squeezed past him to leave out the bakery door with a look that could kill.

Ino!Takuma who followed them with his eyes until they were completely out of sight, before deciding to finally walk up to the counter to order his usual. (He was so pissed, he didn’t even notice that you were watching him. It was only when he got his chocolate filled croissant and a cup of coffee, that he finally turned around, and saw you gawking at him.)

Ino!Takuma whose demeanor immediately switched as he flashed you a nervous grin before walking over to your usual table. Your eyes never left him, and Ino could feel little bits of perspiration dripping down his back. (He didn’t have to be a genius to know that you’d seen his whole mood switch just seconds ago.)

Ino!Takuma who kept telling himself to let his angered and annoyed feelings go, but just couldn’t.

Ino!Takuma who, as much as he wanted to enjoy your teasing about his strange behavior, he found that the more the conversation dragged on about those guys, the angrier he got by the second.

Ino!Takuma who felt his initial anger completely melt into that of pure shock when he heard what you asked him next. (“If you’re so angry about those guys hitting on me, why not do something about it? Yknow, to make sure it doesn’t happen again.”)

Ino!Takuma who literally stared at you like his brain short-circuited or something. (It literally did.)

Ino!Takuma who stuttered for the second time since 2nd grade, horribly stumbling over his words as he tried his best to ask you out on a date. (You chuckled at his flustered state, and happily said yes.)

Ino!Takuma who couldn’t help but dwell in his own embarrassment the moment he got back to his car, dragging his beanie down over his eyes, and groaning into his hands. (He’d made sure to walk you to your car, and nearly sprinted away the moment you said goodnight. He didn’t understand how you were able to keep your cool so well. Why was he the one always left so flustered after every interaction. Everything you did just seemed so effortless to him.)

Ino!Takuma who had to give himself a pep talk the next day to even be able to get out his car. (He’d been sitting there in the bakery’s parking lot for the past 20 minutes, trying to work up the confidence to talk to you again. He’d embarrassed himself so badly yesterday.)

Ino!Takuma who finally entered through the bakery’s doors, to find you already looking over at him. (He was so tempted to turn around and leave, because damn you were so pretty.)

Ino!Takuma who didn’t even bother going up to the register to order his usual. Instead, he bidded you a good morning, before plopping down in his usual seat. Unlike what he was so worried about, conversation between the two of you sparked up almost immediately, and he completely forgot about his initial embarrassment.

Ino!Takuma who spent the entire day with you in that bakery, just like he always did. Admiring you, as you talked a little bit about anything and everything.

Ino!Takuma who walked you to your car like always, but stopped you when you were about to get in.

Ino!Takuma who whipped out his phone, and timidly asked for your number. (As you were typing it in, he just would not shut up about why he needed your number. Rambling on and on, about the most random things, until you handed his phone back, pressing it into his chest.)

Ino!Takuma who shut up immediately, before bidding you goodnight, and walking off in the direction of his car. (What you couldn’t see was the enormous blush that spread all the way to the tips of his ears.)

Ino!Takuma who texted you first, telling you who he was. (He forgot you saved his number.)

Ino!Takuma who set up a date with you, not once mentioning where the two of you were going. (He sucked at planning, and had to ask Nanami to help him.)

Ino!Takuma who anxiously awaited the day of your scheduled meeting time, pulling up to your place almost a whole hour early.

Ino!Takuma who nearly gawked at your outfit, when you finally emerged from your front door.

Ino!Takuma who jumped out of the drivers seat, to jog over to open the passenger door for you.

Ino!Takuma whose first date was the skating rink. (He was a pro at skating, and even though you sucked pure ass, he was always by your side, effortlessly picking you up, and making sure that you never once fell, not hard at least.)

Ino!Takuma who then took you out to eat some delicious food. (He was not one for fancy restaurants, as unlike Nanami, he loved greasy food.)

Ino!Takuma who then took you out to one of his favorite spots on the beach, so you could relax your sore feet in the warm, wet sand.

Ino!Takuma who was elated when you said yes to another date, and immediately got to work on planning another outing with you.

Ino!Takuma who was always a joy, and a breath of fresh air to be with. He wasn’t all uptight, and sophisticated, nor was he a lazy bum. He was perfect, and it wasn’t very surprising when you didn’t even let him finish his sentence when he asked you be his girlfriend.

Ino!Takuma who then started driving over to your place to hang out, bringing along your usual coffee and pastries from the bakery with him.

Ino!Takuma who’s favorite pastime was bickering with you about who was the strongest anime character in history, and who could beat who in a fight with no powers.

Ino!Takuma who’d call you whenever he missed you, always telling you that he loved you. (He literally sounds like beast boy from teen titans whenever you answer. Always saying, “Hey Mama!” The moment he hears your beautiful voice.)

Ino!Takuma who’s a complete softie, and unlike how he was before the two of you started dating, he’s very direct about how he feels.)

Ino!Takuma who really loves you with everything he’s got, and has completely changed his view on relationships.

[cheralith]

vogue (masterlist) — boss/fashion designer!geto suguru x reader

series synopsis ; even without much knowledge in the world of fashion, you decide that it's in your best interest to work for the country's fashion magazine powerhouse to propel your career as a journalist. however, you begin to second-guess your decision when you're faced with the grueling labor of its one and only editor-in-chief who expects nothing less of perfection. can your efficiency meet his standards or will you be out the door before you can even blink?

content tags/warnings ; gn!reader, use of they/them pronouns in ch1 (as of 12/26), she/her pronouns from ch2 and beyond, mild language, afab!reader, traditional japanese basis of (l/n) (f/n) used, reader wears glasses, makeup, and feminine clothing, some mild manga and jjk 0 spoilers (three minor characters from each are introduced), uhhh suguru being an asshole lawl, some parts not edited/not beta read,

contains ; editor-in-chief!geto, fashion designer!geto, assistant!reader, assistant turned muse!reader, platonic roommate!ino, modern au, angst, slowburn, co-workers-to-lovers, some crack if you squint, geto is a dick lawl

current word count: 19.1k (as of 12/26)

chapter one ; suddenly i see

chapter two ; reasons

chapter three ; tba...

chapter four ; tba...

chapter five; tba...

chapter six ; tba...

chapter seven ; tba...

[daisynik7]

Teach Me, Senpai!

Pairing: Ino x f!reader x Nanami

Rating: Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~2.6k

cw: smut - threesome, spit-roast, PIV sex (doggy style), blow job, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, Nanami is sorta a perv oops, Ino calls Nanami senpai, a hint of a breeding kink, use of pet names, everyone is an adult here in case that doesn’t come across clearly

Summary: Takuma Ino is your silly, golden retriever boyfriend who brings you along to meet his mentor, Nanami Kento. You’ve heard a lot about him, mostly because your boyfriend constantly praises him for being so amazing. You underestimate how close their relationship is until Ino starts asking his "senpai" for pointers on how to spice things up in the bedroom. What better way to learn than to demonstrate, right?

Author’s Note: I'm currently in heat, can you blame me? I tried my best to edit and proofread, sorry if there are any glaring grammar mistakes or typos, please ignore! Tagging @todorosie @crazychaoticizzy @gojoloves @brightnessemma @batafuraikisu (I know you didn't ask, but I'm tagging you anyways bc ily and I think you'd like this lol). I'm sorry if I missed any tags, Tumblr wouldn't let me tag you! Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are always appreciate, thank you for reading! MDNI divider by @/cafekitsune.

“You’re going to love him, I swear!” Ino insists, dragging you down the hallway of the office building, past empty cubicles. It’s past five and all the employees are out for the remainder of the day. 

“I just don’t see why I have to meet him,” you argue, following him reluctantly.

“Because he’s important to me! He’s my mentor, my senpai! I have the highest respect for him, and I think it’s cool for you to finally put a face to a name. Aren’t you curious about the guy I’m always talking about?”

“Not really,” you answer, rolling your eyes. Honestly, you’ve grown sick of hearing your boyfriend gush so much about this Nanami fellow. You’re starting to feel jealous about how highly he thinks of this other man. “Why are we even here? This seems like a very random meeting spot.”

“We debrief here sometimes after our missions. He used to be a salary man, so I guess they still let him use the office.” They arrive at a closed door at the end of the hall. Ino knocks twice, a bright smile on his face, a little too excited for this.

A well-built blonde man answers, donning a blue dress shirt and spotted tie. You immediately notice how large his hands are, clenched to the door frame, staring at you from behind steampunk glasses. “Hello.”

“Nanami! Hey! This is my girlfriend, the one I’ve been telling you about.” You introduce yourself to him with a handshake, confirming that they are indeed very big compared to yours. You feel guilty noticing something that can be misconstrued as inappropriate, even lewd in most cases, so you quickly let the thought fade, stepping inside the room. 

It’s a normal looking office, quite barren, except for the few papers stacked on the desk and a map posted on one of the walls. There’s a single chair facing the table, so you take that as Ino stands beside you, arm around your shoulders. “Thanks for letting us stop by. I really wanted to introduce you two to each other.”

Nanami nods curtly, leaning on the edge of the desk in front of you. Your eyes almost drift toward his crotch, curious about his size, but you resist the temptation, ashamed of yourself for even imagining something so completely wrong, especially with your boyfriend right next to you. “You said you wanted to speak to me about something,” he says, focusing on Ino. He removes his glasses, tucking them in his breast pocket.

“Ah, right! Well, I’m a little shy to ask, especially since I haven’t mentioned it to her yet…” Ino scratches his nape nervously, tugging his beanie to cover his reddening ears.

You look at him, confused. “What are you talking about?”

He bites his lip, choosing his words carefully before speaking. “Well, you know how you and I have been…you know, having some trouble in the bedroom?”

At that, you immediately freeze, gaping at him, shocked. A strangled noise comes out of Nanami’s throat, equally jarred.

Ino continues. “I want to get some advice from someone I really trust, like Nanami.” He glances between you, waiting for a response, an uneasy grin on his face. 

You’re stunned, heat surrounding your entire body now, mortified that your boyfriend would casually bring this up without any warning whatsoever. It’s no secret to either of you that your sex life has gotten a bit lackluster recently. Besides missionary and the occasional blowjob, there isn’t much else that you’ve tried in the bedroom. Neither of you are that experienced to begin with, and you both lack the confidence to initiate something different, something new. It’s a matter that you’ve been meaning to resolve privately. Or so you thought. 

No one speaks for what feels like an eternity. You’re tempted to grab your boyfriend and haul ass out of there, hoping this entire conversation can be forgotten or played up to be some kind of cruel, sick joke. However, you remain seated, curiously anticipating Nanami’s response. After all, you haven’t flat-out refused yet, and neither has he. 

Nanami clears his throat. “What kind of advice do you need?” You’re surprised that he’s even entertaining the idea. 

“I just want a few tips on how to spice things up,” Ino answers. “Make it more enjoyable for her.” He puts his arm around you again, squeezing your shoulder. You don’t know whether to punch him or kiss him; the arousal growing between your legs says the latter. The thought of another man who’s practically a stranger instructing your eager boyfriend on how to pleasure you is titillating and definitely something different, something new. You won’t deny it: you’re intrigued. 

Nanami crosses his arms over his chest, avoiding either of your gazes, focused on the floor instead. “I will help, if you both consent to it.”

Ino turns to you with puppy dog eyes. “Babe, you cool with this?”

Too invested now to refuse, you reply, “Sure.”

Your boyfriend lets out a sigh of relief, the tension relaxing in the air surrounding you. “Sweet. Me too.” He looks at Nanami, a bright smile on his face now, clearly thrilled about this. “What’s first, senpai?”

Nanami clears his throat again, standing up straight, taking a step towards you. “Well, foreplay is always a good place to start.”

Ino sticks his finger up. “Right! Foreplay. Uh, do you have a pen and paper so I can take notes…?”

“You don’t seriously need to take notes on foreplay, do you?” he snaps. “It’s as simple as kissing and touching on all the right spots.”

“What spots are those?” 

“It’s probably better if you ask her.” Nanami points to you, making direct eye contact. “Where do you like to be touched?”

You swallow hard, timid from being put on the spot like this. “Just the normal places.”

“The two of you have to communicate better if this is ever going to work out,” he says, a hint of impatience in his tone. “Show him.”

Committing to this fully now, you stand up, grab Ino’s hand and brush it against your lips. “I like it when you kiss me. And when you touch my lips.” 

He smiles at you. “That’s good.”

“You can also put your fingers in my mouth every once in a while. If you want,” you suggest, licking the tip of his middle finger. 

He smirks. “Yeah. I definitely want that, too.”

“Sometimes, it’s better to learn by doing it,” Nanami interjects, watching the two of you carefully. 

You gaze at Ino’s lips, then into his eyes, nodding. He leans in, kissing you slowly. He’s always been a good kisser, a great one, actually. The problem is that he’s too gentle with you. 

“Kiss her neck,” Nanami orders, arms at his sides now, hands clenched into tight fists. 

Ino follows, trailing down your chin until he’s at your neck, sucking on your skin. 

“Put your fingers in her mouth. She said she likes that, right?”

Ino hums, tracing the outline of your lips with his thumb before pushing it in. You surround him, using your grip to pump him in and out of you. His other hand drifts to your waist, teasing the elastic of your pants.

“Are you getting wet, sweetheart?” Nanami’s voice is low and sultry; the use of the pet name has you unraveling much quicker than you expect. Without thinking, you breathe out, “Yes,” pushing his fingers deeper down your throat. 

“Fuck, baby,” Ino moans, hot on your ear. “Where else do you want to be touched?”

You pull him out, swallowing your thick saliva, placing his hand between your legs. “Touch me here.”

Ino, eyes glossy with lust, slowly shimmies your pants down your legs, revealing your soaked panties. “Oh shit, you really are wet, fuck.”

“Eat her out,” Nanami demands. There’s a desperate gruffness in his voice that’s undeniable now, and one glance is all it takes for you to realize that he’s hard, an impressive bulge strained in his slacks. He shoves all his belongings off the desk, making room for you. “Here. Do it here.”

Ino curses under his breath, cock stiff in his sweats, leading you to the table, where you sit at the edge, spreading your thighs open for him. He slips your panties off, licking his lips before diving into your arousal, tongue pressed firmly on your clit. “Fuck,” you moan, squirming from the sensation. 

Nanami walks to the other side, near your head, staring at Ino’s face buried in your pussy. Instinctually, you reach for him, pulling him by the belt, tongue hanging out. His eyes flit to yours, surprised when you say, “Touch me, senpai.”

Ino moans into you, clearly turned on by it. Obliging, Nanami hoists your shirt off, leaving you in just your bra, which he hastily unhooks to bare your chest. Bending towards you, he wraps his lips around one breast, suckling at your teat, his hand working the other nipple, pinched between his fingers. You’re close to your climax; you just need a little bit more. As if he can read your mind, Nanami releases you with a pop, saying, “Suck on her clit until she comes. Fuck her with your fingers at the same time.” His sudden vulgarity spurs you on, grinding your hips against your boyfriend’s face, pulling Nanami back to your tits.

Ino muffles, puckering his lips around you, sliding his middle finger inside you. You throw your head back on the desk, ecstasy rippling through your entire being, knees shaking with sensitivity. 

“Yeah, she likes that,” Nanami purrs, flicking his tongue on your peaked nipples. “Put another in. One at a time, until she’s full.”

Ino manages to fit three of his digits inside you before you orgasm with him latched to your swelling bud, coating him in your slick. He doesn’t stop licking until you’ve come down from your high, pushing his head away, overstimulated. Nanami removes himself from you, unbuckling his belt, watching intently as your boyfriend slips his wet fingers inside your mouth. “Taste yourself babe. You’re so fucking good.” You slurp your own juices off him, pussy throbbing, aching to be fucked. 

“You like that, don’t you, sweetheart?” Nanami murmurs, shimmying out of his pants, erection protruding from his briefs. He palms it, rubbing his thumb over the wet spot oozing from the tip. “Ino, tease her a little bit.”

“Yes sir,” he salutes, pulling down his bottoms, cock sprung against the hem of his sweater. He taps the tip of his dick on your puffy bud, smiling wide as you writhe for him. “Damn, baby. I’ve never seen you this wet before.”

“It’s a good thing you came to me then, isn’t it?” Nanami mentions, wiping the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand. “Now turn around for us, princess. It’s going to feel so much better for you like this.”

You obey, readjusting your body to bend over the desk, ass pushed towards Ino, desperate to be used by them both. Your boyfriend positions his cock at your entrance, huffing, “You ready, baby?”

“Yeah. Fuck me, Ino,” you moan. “Fuck me hard.”

He glides in slowly, stretching you out little by little, easing into you. Once he’s all the way in, groin pressed to your ass, he starts thrusting at a steady pace. It increases gradually until he’s pounding away at you, hitting that sweet spot over and over until your eyes glaze over, in a total state of bliss. 

Nanami studies you, enjoying the show until he notices you staring at the bulge in his briefs, tongue lolling, practically begging for him. He smirks at you. “You want all your holes stuffed, don’t you, sweetheart?”

You nod, drool leaking from the sides of your mouth, eyes weepy, peering up at him. How could he resist such a cock hungry slut like you? Especially when you look at him like this? 

“I’m going to give you my cock then. Think you can take it?” he asks, shoving his underwear off, cock flopping against his abdomen. 

“Oh yeah, she can fucking take it,” Ino grunts, hands gripped to your hips, still fucking you with fervor. “Right babe?” He delivers a fresh slap to your ass, which echoes off the walls of the office. 

“Yeah, I can take it,” you mumble, gulping down the spit collecting on your tongue. 

Nanami hums, satisfied with your answer, inching his dick closer to your mouth. “Open up for me, sweetheart.”

You do, swallowing him until he bottoms out to the back of your throat, testing your gag reflex. He stays still, staring at you, relishing this lewd sight. “Ino, your girlfriend looks so pretty with my cock in her mouth. Don’t you agree?”

“Fuck, yeah. So fucking hot how she just takes it. She’s a good girl, always has been,” he says from behind you, spreading your cheeks open to watch himself disappear into your pussy with each thrust. 

“You’re a lucky man,” Nanami mutters, tipping your chin up, gazing into your eyes. “And you’re a lucky girl, aren’t you? Getting fucked by your boyfriend and his senpai.” Nanami begins to move, pumping himself in and out of your hungry mouth, your tongue running along the underside of his dick. 

Ino shrugs his beanie off, running his fingers through his hair, damp with perspiration. “Oh fuck, baby, you’re taking us so fucking good.”

“Like a proper slut,” Nanami adds, tracing the outline of your lips, glossy with spit, stretched around his shaft. “Do you suck his cock as good as you suck mine?” 

You nod, swallowing your gag reflex as the tip of his dick hits the back of your throat with each solid thrust of his hips. Your second orgasm approaches quickly, your pussy clenching Ino’s cock, though you can’t say anything while gobbling up Nanami’s cock, so you let it be, continuing to be spit-roasted over the desk, thirsty for their cum.  

“Fuck, I’m going to come soon,” Ino says, slowing his pace. “I’ve never…I’ve never come inside her before.”

Nanami, still relishing his blow job, asks, “Why not?”

“Too scared to get her pregnant,” he admits. It’s true; Ino always pulls out, even when you beg him to finish inside you. You appreciate that about him, but in this moment, you want nothing more than his cream pie filling you up. 

“Is she on birth control?”

“Y-Yeah.”

Once again, as if psychic, Nanami responds, “Then I’m sure she wouldn’t mind getting your load just this once. Right, sweetheart?”

Your words are muffled. Nanami pulls out, cock wet with your spit, stroking it in his fist. “What was that, princess?”

“I said yes! Give it to me, Ino!” you whine, shaking around him. 

“Fuck, are you sure, baby? You sure you want it?”

“Give it to me. Want you to breed me,” you blurt out. 

“That’s it, that’s a good girl,” Nanami coos, slapping the head of his cock on your tongue. “How about here? You want it here too?”

You glance at Ino, who’s watching. He nods, licking his lips. “Yes. Want your cum inside me, senpai,” you reply. 

He smirks, pushing himself back inside you, his length sliding on every inch of your tongue. “Good girl.”

It doesn’t take long for both men to come, Ino shooting his seed deep into your womb, stuffing you full, Nanami spurting ribbons into your mouth, guzzling down each drop. They pull out slowly, cocks sensitive now from the stimulation. You roll over onto your back, catching your breath, looking up at them with a satisfied smile on your face. 

Nanami cups your cheek in his hand, thumb brushing delicately against your skin. “Such a messy girl. I think she needs a few more lessons. What do you think, Ino?”

Your boyfriend’s eyes are blown wide, staring at the lewd sight before him, your pussy leaking with his cum, your mouth drooling with Nanami’s. “Yeah. Definitely needs more, senpai.”

[simplygojo]

GhostFace Ep. 5 - Ino Takuma

Author's Note: HAPPY HALLOWEENNNNN! I am releasing all the fics I never got time to finish/post this week as my big Kinktober finale, I hope you enjoy. Be safe always <3 This is a request from one of my BESTIES @nanamisrighthand <3 I LOVE INO AND I LOVE YOU

Spooky Szn Masterlist

Pairing: Ino Takuma x f!reader

Kinks: Face Fucking & Edging

Word Count: 2K

Kinktober Taglist: @nanamisrighthand @simplyyyuji; @megumisdivinedogs; @lovleyredheadfairy

Warnings: 18+ SMUT, MDNI, face fucking, rough sex, light punishment, just the usual smuttyness

The movie flickered on the screen, painting the room in hazy flashes of light as you and Ino sat together on the couch, curled up against each other. 

You’d chosen a horror movie for the night, one filled with suspense and masked killers—since it was the night before Halloween—but your attention had wandered from the screen about halfway through. 

Sitting there with him, feeling the warmth of his arm around your shoulders, you couldn’t resist the itch for a bit of playful trouble.

Ino was fully absorbed in the movie, eyes flicking between scenes, his fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns against your arm.

That subtle focus only made you want to grab his attention more, to see that subtle shift in him whenever you pushed just the right buttons.

You looked over to the end of the couch where his Ghostface mask from his costume rested, its empty, hollow eyes staring back at you.

With a sly smirk, you leaned forward, snagging it and slipping it over your head. 

You knew he’d notice in seconds—the mask’s eerie, exaggerated grin against your face, your body language shifting to play up the role.

It only took a second. His eyes shifted, glancing at you before rolling, clearly unimpressed. 

He chuckled softly, a little dismissive. “Y/n, what are you doing?”

“Oh, nothing,” you hummed, leaning back, crossing your legs as you stared him down through the mask. 

“Thought maybe I’d get into character, you know?” You tilted your head, tracing your fingers along the mask’s mouth in a way that was anything but innocent.

“Nice try, but it’s not working on me,” he muttered, shifting in his seat and attempting to keep his eyes trained on the screen. 

But you noticed the way his jaw clenched, his fingers twitching slightly against his thigh as you ran your hands down your chest, teasing him with slow, deliberate movements.

You leaned in, murmuring, “Not working on you? Really?” 

You were inches from his face now, close enough for him to feel the breath beneath the mask, the edges of it grazing his skin.

Ino scoffed, adjusting himself on the couch and keeping his eyes forward, though the tension in his body was unmistakable. 

“You’re just bored,” he said, though his voice was a little tighter than before, fingers gripping the edge of the couch cushion. 

But you could see that look in his eye—the glint of intrigue he couldn’t fully shake, the slow unravelling of his calm facade.

Sensing his resolve waver, you pushed further. 

You shifted closer, sliding one knee over his thigh and settling onto his lap, the movement slow, deliberate, as you let your weight sink into him. 

His eyes flicked down, watching you with a tense gaze, trying to keep his cool as you settled right against him, your warmth pressing over the unmistakable hardness beneath his jeans. 

You placed your hands on his shoulders, leaning in until your breath ghosted over his neck, feeling him tense as your fingers trailed lightly over his collarbone, tracing the line of his jaw with a soft, teasing touch.

Ino’s hands hovered at your hips, twitching as if fighting the urge to pull you down harder. 

You shifted forward, the friction unmistakable, and he let out a low, restrained breath, eyes narrowing as you ground down just enough to let him feel the heat of you through the thin layers separating you.

"Still not working on you?” You murmured, letting the words trail off, your lips brushing just over his ear. 

You rocked against him a little harder, feeling the delicious press of him against you, his control hanging by a thread as you moved slowly, torturously, in his lap.

Ino’s jaw clenched, his fingers digging into the edge of the couch, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that sent a thrill down your spine. 

For a second, you could see the tension cracking, his hands moving as though he was about to grab you—but he forced himself still, holding onto that last shred of restraint even as you continued to roll your hips, feeling him grow harder beneath you with each teasing grind.

Finally, you leaned back, tilting your head as you traced your fingers over his chest and down, glancing back up with a challenging look. 

His gaze darkened, his breathing coming faster now, every muscle in his body taut with a restrained hunger that was only waiting to snap.

And then it did.

In one swift motion, he grabbed the mask from you, slipping it over his own head, his voice dropping to a dangerously low murmur. 

"You wanted to play, right? Let’s see if you’re ready for this.”

With that, he lifted you off of him, standing you up right in front of him. His head tilted slightly as he looked it you in a moment of eerie silence.

“Run.” Ino said in a sharp whisper. And you gladly did as he said.

With one last glance at his imposing figure, clad in the mask with that dark, hungry look gleaming through the eye holes, you spun around, a rush of adrenaline kicking in as you dashed down the hallway. 

You could hear his steady, ominous footsteps trailing you, never too fast but close enough that you felt the constant pull of his presence.

Heart racing, you made it to the end of the hallway, looking over your shoulder to catch a glimpse of him moving with terrifying precision, his gaze locked on you with an intensity that made you shiver. 

A grin broke across your face as you darted into the next room, breathless with excitement. 

But no sooner had you turned the corner than you felt a strong hand wrap around your wrist, yanking you back against his chest.

“Not so bold now, are you?” He murmured, voice muffled but rough beneath the mask, his grip firm and unyielding as he spun you to face him, pressing you back against the wall. 

His hand slid down to grip your waist, pulling you flush against him as his free hand traced your jaw, tilting your head back so he could look down at you through the mask’s hollow eyes.

You swallowed, and your breath caught in your throat as you stared up at him, your chest rising and falling in shallow breaths, anticipation tightening every inch of your body. 

He took a moment, his gaze lingering over you, savouring the effect he had on you before he reached down, his fingers deftly lifting your shirt up, over your head, tossing it aside with a casual precision that made your pulse race even harder.

"Ino…” You whispered, trying to read his expression beneath the mask, but it only made him more unreadable, his touch firmer as he leaned in, his mouth hovering over your ear.

“You want to tease me?” He growled, his grip firm around your waist, pulling back just enough to catch your gaze, a wicked glint in his eyes. 

"On your knees," he commanded, his tone low and husky, leaving no room for argument. 

The intensity in his voice sent a fresh wave of anticipation through you as you slowly lowered yourself, your lips parted slightly as you looked up at him, every nerve heightened as you knelt before him, looking up, waiting.

Ino took in the sight, his hand reaching out to trace a thumb over your pretty lips, eyes dark with desire.

"Look at me. I want to see that pretty face of yours while I fuck it." His words made your pulse race, a thrill of excitement running through you as his thumb slipped past your lips, pressing down on your tongue, urging you to open wider.

He slid himself between your lips, the tip grazing against your tongue, and you held his gaze, feeling the weight of his intense focus as he began to move. 

Each stroke was slow and deliberate at first, giving him a chance to savour every inch disappearing into the warmth of your mouth. 

His hand rested at the back of your head, fingers tangling into your hair, gently guiding you to take him deeper, a satisfied hum escaping his lips as he watched you, enthralled by the way you looked up at him, eyes filled with lust.

"That’s it," he murmured, voice darkening with each slow thrust, "Take every inch." 

His grip tightened in your hair, his rhythm picking up, each movement sending a jolt through you as he held you in place, his gaze never leaving yours. 

Your hands gripped his thighs, grounding yourself as he moved, each thrust steady and powerful, the mask casting an eerie shadow over his face as he took in every expression you made, every desperate gasp and moan muffled against him. 

His breathing grew heavier, his hand guiding you as he sank deeper, pushing himself to the back of your throat with a force that had you gasping, cheeks hollowing as you worked to keep up with his pace.

"You look so good like this," he rasped, his voice rough with pleasure, a primal satisfaction lighting up his eyes as he took in every reaction, every desperate gasp, and muffled moan you let out as you tried not to gag. 

Each thrust was powerful, relentless, his need pouring into each movement as he held you right where he wanted, your submission driving him to the edge.

He pulled back for a moment, letting you catch your breath, but only long enough to lift you to your feet, spinning you around and pressing you forward, bending you over as he pulled your hips back against him. 

His hands moved over your bare skin, lingering on every curve, every inch he could claim.

“Thought you could get away with that teasing?” His voice was low, ragged with need as he positioned himself behind you, his body pressing you against the wall as he filled you with one hard, consuming thrust that had you gasping, clutching at the wall to steady yourself. 

Each thrust was deep, merciless, leaving you breathless and wanting more. 

His fingers dug into your hips, holding you steady as he filled you, his pace unrelenting, driving you to the edge until you were gasping, gripping the wall for support as he whispered against your ear.

“Think I’d let you get off so easy?” he murmured, barely letting you breathe as his fingers toyed with you, his grip steady, keeping you right where he wanted.

Each thrust was calculated, dragging you to the edge before he’d still, savoring the frustration that colored your gasps and quiet pleas. 

You tried to push back against him, to meet his rhythm, but his hands held firm, keeping you there on the brink, trembling under his control, body aching with the need to be taken past the breaking point.

With each relentless thrust, he kept you on the edge, his movements precise, leaving you breathless and desperate. He paused just long enough to feel the quiver in your thighs, the slight whimper escaping your lips as you hovered at that unbearable threshold.

“Not yet,” he whispered, his voice firm but laced with that undeniable hunger. 

His hand slid down, fingers brushing against you, only to pull away just as your hips arched in silent pleading. 

Every time you thought he’d finally let you tumble over, he held back, savoring the way your body tensed and trembled under his grip.

When he finally leaned down, pressing the weight of his body into you as he whispered against your ear, his voice was a low, wicked murmur. 

“You wanted to tease, didn’t you?” He pressed himself deeper, filling you, each thrust now unrestrained, relentless, his rhythm pushing you right to the point of shattering.

The sound of his breathing filled the space, rough and uneven as he watched you, his own restraint beginning to falter. 

You felt his grip on your hips tighten, his rhythm breaking, as he finally drove you both over the edge, sending you spiralling together in a rush of tension finally released.

And from that moment forward, you and Ino watched the entire Scream series every Halloween.