#what is so special about white men that makes a good handful of people not gaf abt how theyve hurt others

[justvibingwhilecrying]

Thinking Abt that "y'all would fuck anyone if it was a white man" tweet

[f0ofishies]

first times w/ bllk men.

You didn't even know how you even pulled the supposedly best striker in the world. Yeah, you were done for when Noel Noa had made you explore the city of Paris for a first date after pining after you for months now. He definitely didn't ask his teammates on advice.. definetly.

You giggled at him once again, walking around the city of love. How romantic, you thought for a bit. Your palm grazed his big palm, looking over the scenery from your now balcony. You both reached home a few minutes ago.

"Love?" His deep sulky voice called out to you. Tilting your head just enough to meet his golden gaze, he looked straight down. "Are you ready yet?" He whispered. Blunt and straightforward..

"Ready for–" "Love making." He was always vocal with you, even about his desires for you. Words caught up in your throat, as a light brush crept around your ears. "Now..?" He just clutched your palm even more. "Yes. Now."

Shittt–! You looked down at him. He was three fingers deep in you already, curling both his index and middle finger. He pressed on the spongy spot that made you wail. Honestly, he didn't knew how long he'd been yearning for you to squirm.

"My cock isn't even inside you yet, mon coeur..?" You've recently found out, he dirty talks in french even if you had no idea what he was even chanting in your ear. Praises– insults..? Too dumb on his fingers to even knew.

"You're too big.. that's why!" You tried to reason with the white-haired man, he couldn't help but groan at how you've been clenching. "Mmm.. stretched you for so long.. you've.. gotta be ready.." He groaned, leaning you down to a missionary position.

Your palms had been tugging at his white buttoned up shirt, well half buttoned now. He'd been stopping his advances, only wanting your first time climaxing on him first. "No, no, wait I'm so close..!"

He finally pulled out, your slick walls even gripping at his fingertips. "Mm, ready now.." He huffed a bit, shifting his position. Your teary eyes widened hearing the sound of a plastic ripped– did you just saw a size L condom?

Your mouth went dry, as you gawked at his size. Pinkish tip with some visible veins– "Baby is that even going to–" "Yes, yes it will.." Sliding the plastic wrap around himself, he let out a groan.

He wasn't vocal before, sure, but now he's panting a bit.. trying to squeeze the tip right pass your tight walls. "Please relax.. amour.." You couldn't even respond, your hole clenching like crazy "Ugh– nuh..!"

"Mon Ange.." He hooked over both your thighs that were burning over his broad shoulders. Your pretty nails– thrashed around his back. "Mmm! Noelnoelnoel.." Your voice murmuring his name like a prayer.

And when he finally bottoms out, he lets out a small brief chuckle. "Hah– Merde.. you're so tight.. still too tight.." He held up your calf a bit, it angled him deeper.

"Your body was made for me, baby.."

Dating him? How'd you even pull, Michael fucking Kaiser, the German Prodigy people call him most of the time, or maybe the arrogant bastard people know him by. Yeah you were just dating this soccer player by some miracle chance..

You couldn't help but giggle softly, as he finally visited you in the small apartment�� barely making a living from your job.

"Michael.." Your voice drawled out his name as he finished a hot shower at your apartment, wearing only just his sweatpants. Your eyes indulged in the sight of him. "Ogling me again, huh?"

"Totally not." Light footsteps grazed against your wooden floors as you approached the blonde haired man. Your hands grasped his neck, tracing the subtle blue rose tattoo that displayed. "Mein Schätzelein.." Hearing the subtle nickname made your heart raise.

"Oh, and what would that entail now?" You've always liked the way his accent rolls off his tongue. Made you feel special– Michael, even with his complexities, made you feel good. "Nothing, dear." He replied smoothly.

Sharing a short fleeting kiss, he had pulled away from you. You were a bit annoyed.. he knew you've been wanting to initiate some intimate stuff in your relationship, considering you've been dating for months now! Not one sex even happened yet!

You lurch over his fingers lightly, "Love.." The small whisper you entailed. "Are you not even attracted to me–?" His eyes widened a bit, then his facade faltered a tiny bit, but hardened back again. "No, baby.. just.."

"I'm so ready..!" You whined at him, like a kid wanting a plushie. "What's stopping us?" He just glanced back down at you, "Are you serious–.."

You stroke his jaw as he holds you close, one hand on your waist, the other at your hips. "You're telling me– you've never done this before.." Your hole spasming in the cold air hovering over his pretty pink tip. "No, never.."

He couldn't believe how hard and red he was, he would always flex on other people about everything but this. He'd touch himself, yeah, but this is a whole another level for him. "t's fine.. you'll love this feeling.." You whisper.

"Ah–!" He let out a strangled moan, finding the way how you slid in so easily into him. You've stretched yourself out beforehand– sneaky minx, he thought. But he didn't mind, before you could even roll your hips.. he stabilized you.

"No, no let me– do the honors..!" He wanted to still be superior, so he did what he would logically do. Thrust upwards, fully bottoming out. "Michael–!" Your face changed– wasn't he a virgin how'd he..?

"Let me do it,, cause I want to fuck you so badly..." Michael was a vocal person that's for sure, he'd be praising you in german, as he switched both your positions. One of your legs thrown over. "...urgh.. Michael– so good.." You squirmed like a bunny in heat.

He twisted you around once again, your body facing the sheets. "Now.. just arch like that– No Liebling.. I said arch." He growled right in your ear as his palm guided you into the position he wanted. No way he was a virgin!

You've been dating the doting puppy of Kaiser a long time. Sometimes, his loyalty faltered as his purple eyes gaze right past you. Alexis Ness. He's always so sweet..

Too sweet, even for you. You really couldn't tell if he's actually genuine, sometimes.. you could tell he was annoyed by the way his eyebrows shifted, but you didn't mind.

He'd been dragging you into his apartment now that he moved out of Kaiser's place. Finally happy, you both got your own space. Both of you resting on the bed being all lovey dovey.

Your hands brushed past his light brown–purple hair, the fingertips tangled in between. He gave you a small kiss in the inner conner of your lips, his eyebrows relaxed. "Mmm, Alexis.." You whispered his name in a plea.

"What, Schatz..?" He just giggled, leaning closer as he gave a big fat kiss to your cheek. You just huffed at him as he nuzzled more. And suddenly, something clicked in you.

"Alexis Ness, are you hard?" The question popped out so suddenly, he even shuddered as he looked down in the buldge between his legs. "Oh– Scheiße.." He spouted.

Ness was about to pull away before you suddenly grasped his wrist. You stared at him and then shaked your head. You both knew you had no expertise what's so ever.. and no Kaiser around, so...

"Alexis, I want you." You mumble low enough just for him to hear. His ears turn red as he looks at you. "What– but we.." "I don't care– let's try it please..!"

"Fuck, I never done this remember.." He'd bought a pack of condoms after your pleas– as he slipped it on him, he shuddered. You were just laying on your back, staring at his pink tip. "Neither have I.." You giggled being so amused at this.

"Are you even–" "Oh my– fuck me Alexis..!" You cut him off as he approached the bed slowly, his muscular build around your soft ones. "How do I even.." He lined it up a bit, as he let out a small whine.

He slipped past your puffy lips, and he saw the way it clenched around nothing. "You're teasing..!" You whined, but he really wasn't.. he's just having such a hard time even getting it in you. "No, my love, I'm really trying here.."

And finally, just when he slipped in.. the inches entering you– yeah you were a loud mess by then. Ness wasn't the huge type.. but he had girth that's what happened..

"Oh– Alex–! mmmngh.. you're really.." He bottoms out, he looked down at his pelvis hitting against your body. He rolled his hips as you let out a scream. "Mein Herz, you're too loud.." He chuckled as he rolled again and again and again.

It was too addictive for him to stop, you knew that. The way he experimented on going slow and long thrusts then changed up to repeated and fast thrusts in a heartbeat– made even your skin flushed. He gripped the fat of your ass a bit as he felt himself getting closer..

"I dont– don't think I'm going to even last longer.. fuck just let me please..! Sonnenschein.. I'm gonna do it inside, okay!"

[greaseonmymouth]

I saw this shared around on Threads (why do I go there, I hate it) and commented on as 'this article is so good' and 'must read' including by a few people whose opinion I normally respect, and seeing as monsterfucking and monster everything is like a special little interest for me, I of course instantly clicked through to read it

and I have to say

what the everloving heterosexual fuck is this

two fat paragraphs about omegaverse that don't even mention its origins - I mean - I just - gaze upon this phrase, and despair:

During estrous, Omegas’ vaginas ooze with “slick,” responding to the Alpha’s intoxicating pheromonal perfume.

IT'S CALLED "SLICK" BECAUSE IT'S FROM SELF-LUBRICATING ANUSES. THE REASON THE OMEGAS NEED SELF-LUBRICATING ANUSES TO BEGIN WITH IS BECAUSE THEY DON'T HAVE VAGINAS.

I. have been rendered figuratively speechless. the straights don't know what slick is. the. i. how. how did we end up like this

their dicks swell at the base, creating a “knot,” which lodges them inextricably in the Omega’s slick-soaked (I am so sorry) vagina.

"(I am so sorry)" girl you're writing an article about monster smut and then you have the gall to be embarrassed by the this tame ass (or should i say vagina?) heterosexual omegaverse?

okay, okay. deep breaths. we've only just got started. we started by covering Morning Glory Milking Farm, a minotaur/human erotic romance novel, which well - I've read it, and it's not a bad book by any means, it was actually very very good, a solid story with a great cast and perfectly paced and satisfying romance and loads of sex - is very straight. it's just a minotaur. it's a big guy with a big dick. it's your standard gentle giant/normal sized girl romance. it's not very freaky, but you know, I don't blame the average reader for coming into this thinking this is some out there stuff. gotta start somewhere, right? we didn't all come up through draco/the giant squid crackfic in 2005, you know? and now we've covered Sarah J Maas and we're entering omegaverse territory, this is getting knottier now, right, freakier? this article is going somewhere, right?

you can imagine the intrigue, enemies-to-lovers, and other story lines involved as each captured female eventually finds the member of the barbarian tribe who is destined to worship and fuck the living daylights out of her for the rest of their lives. Oh, and their dicks have a sensitive spur on top designed for clitoral stimulation. It’s just as blue and velvety as the rest of their big alien bodies.

okay so the minotaurs aliens are blue now, i guess.

It seems, also, like the romance genre as a whole is being pushed by monster romance to make things in human-human books as freaky as possible.

ohh?? are we finally getting a proper freak on now??

This genre, “why choose?” or “MMF” (or sometimes even MMMF or MMFM), and also known as “reverse harem,” always features a heroine who is showered with sexual attention by men who are also sexually involved with each other.

having a thousand yard stare moment over here

this author seriously thinks that all these heterofied monster romance tropes are paving the way for the real freaky stuff that is, checks notes, "two hockey players fucking each other while the heroine calls the shots"

this author is positing that human queer erotica/romance are freakier than monster erotica/romance. like. she said that. with her whole chest. black on white.

on one hand a monster, an inhuman being, and on the other, a queer person, a human being. and apparently the real freak is not the minotaur or the blue alien. it is the queer human.

is this satire? it has to be, right?

because if it's not satire, this article is an entire case study in itself on the monstering* of queer people. stunning.

*academic term

[louloulemons-posts]

heyyy. i saw your taking logan fics. do you think you can write a fic of logan and reader but she’s very girly and bimbo like? thank you 🩷

Claws and Frills

wolverine x fem!reader

(x-men wolverine, he’s a big boy)

summary : At first Logan didn’t know how to take you, but now your the first person he finds when he returns to the mansion.

word count : 0.8k

warnings : not proofread, fluffy, petnames (reader calls logan kitty and the famous bub), readers a necromancer, mentions of violence, blood and killing, readers not really described - only her outfit , hanks a bit of a dick, very very sweet, no established relationship.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

At first Logan didn’t know how to take you, you were unlike anyone he’d ever met. Cooing that Charles had adopted a pet ‘Kitty-cat’ when you first met one another.

It had taken him a few months to realise, you weren’t being condescending, you were truly that sweet and slightly ditzy. Saying that you had the gift of necromancy, controlling those who had passed, along with their powers if they were mutant.

Logan strolled outside of the mansion finding you, lay on your stomach reading a book, a soft lilac blanket beneath you.

A pink dress and short white cardigan hug your figure, as your pink converse lay discarded beside you, showing your white frilly socks.

“Hey Bub,” the man called out, walking over to you. With a grin you turned to him, “Kitty, come sit,” Scooting over to make room for his larger figure, the smile never left your lips.

With a soft groan he sat down next to you, laying back, hands behind his head. “How was your mission?” you asked, placing your book to the side to have your full focus on the man beside you.

With a shrug he spoke, “Went well, stopped the guys.”

“Any blood spilled?” You questioned, head cocked. “Less than last time.”

“And you?”

“Me?” Logan pulled his sunglasses down to rest on his nose, so he could meet your eyes with his own dark ones. “Did any of your blood get spilt?”

“Nothing I couldn’t heal from Bub.”

“Logan you promised-“

“Sometimes it can be helped,” he cut you off, “I did everything I could to be safe and come back to you in one piece, and look here I am.”

He motioned to his long body, dressed in a flannel, unsurprising, a pair of jeans a boots. “Well even if they killed you, you couldn’t be rid of me.”

He laughed, “You’re awful.” With a pout, you sat up on your knees, “What? I have to use my freaky-deaky powers at some point!”

“Freaky-deaky? Is that the technical term?” He smirked. With a groan you spoke, “Don’t, you sound like Hank.”

Logan’s face went serious, “What’s he said to you?” He was ready to shred that blue asshole to pieces for making you feel insecure.

“Nothing, he actually apologised. Charles told him he’d upset me. I mean I know I’m not the smartest sometimes,” Logan tried to cut you off, but you didn’t let him.

“But, I’m not stupid, we actually spent a lot of time talking about, neuroscience. Just because I’m not a total badass like Storm or Jean doesn’t mean I’m an awful hero, I just …” You sighed.

“What Bub?” Logan pushed himself up so you sat face to face. “I just don’t want to stop being myself, and my… gift already makes me feel like I have too.

“Maybe I was given the wrong one, would have been better if I could control plants or I don’t know, talk to animals.”

Logan smiled, pulling a cigar out of his pocket, which you snatched away without a second thought. If it was anyone else, his claws would be out, but it was you.

“Your power doesn’t define you, you know that right? You’re you. You’re sweet and kind, and anyone or anything you’ve controlled with your powers has been as respectful as you can make it.”

“But I’ve killed.”

“And you’ve saved.”

“But-“

“Bub, you’re good, and Hank isn’t a people person, he just talks sometimes. Nobody is a special or as badass as you, I promise.”

“Not even you?”

He titled his head, thinking for a moment, “I might be a close second.”

“Third, Erik’s more scary than you … and Jean oh and Scott-“ he put a hand over your mouth.

You couldn’t help but smile against it, causing his lips to twitch upwards. He pulled his palm away, “Thank you Kitty.”

“Never have to thank me, you know that.” Leaning forward you placed a soft kiss on his cheek, wrapping your arms around his neck. “You really are my favourite person, you know that?”

“You’re crazy,” he said making you laugh, arms coming round your waist, “But you’re my favourite too.”

Pulling away you stroked his face gently, “You’re a good man, you know that right?”

“You tell me most days. Now read to me,” he said, falling onto his back, hands going back behind his head.

Crossing your knees, you sat beside Logans figure, his eyes falling closed. One of his hands moving to stroke your leg softly. “What are we reading?”

With a smirk you spoke, “Pride and Prejudice.”

Logan groaned, “Again?!”

“Hush Kitty.”

And hush he did, listening to your soft voice hand never leaving your leg. Remaining on that soft blanket with you, until the sun began to set and the stars rise.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Thank you so much for reading!

i honestly can’t believe i’ve never done a logan fic but deadpool 3 brought back my obsession big time.

I hope you enjoyed.

Please leave any requests 🫶🏻

[madamechrissy]

Two for One

ఌ Pairings ఌ Satoru Gojo x Fem Reader x Suguru Geto

ఌ Warnings ఌ MDNI- Cunnilingus, blow jobs, fingering, p in v sex, anal sex (fem receiving) creampie, double penetration etcc, SatoxSugu kiss bc of COURSE but mostly play with reader

ఌ Word Count ఌ 4.6k

ఌ Summary ఌ Your bosses, Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto want to make sure you feel appreciated, so they decide to help you unwind with... well, their dicks

“I really hope I’m doing okay.” You murmur nervously, as Satoru Gojo leans over you to see the work you’ve done on the computer, you inhale his scent, so fresh and clean, yet masculine. His silvery white locks are falling just so over his forehead, the line of his jaw tensing just a bit, before turning to you, smiling.

Satoru’s smile was so fucking gorgeous, but his eyes… this endless pool of baby blue that sparkled like stars. It was physically painful to even look at them at times, you had been working closely with him for months now, but they always got you a bit, if you had to admit it.

“It’s perfect, of course. You worry too much.” He gently places a hand on your shoulder, and you exhale, smiling, crossing your legs in your business dress.

“Thank you, Mr. Gojo. That means so much.”

“You’re very welcome. Hey, Suguru, come look.” Suguru Geto comes then, handsome, tall and dark, the yin to Gojo’s yang surely. His long silky locks were half tied up, and his seductive chocolate eyes met yours, smiling just so.

“What am I looking at, besides this gorgeous girl.” You flush bright red, peering around, but everyone had left the office for the day at this point, the final people filing out of it.

“Well, duh, of course she’s gorgeous.” Satoru Gojo plays with your hair, until he unclasps the little clip. You inhale a bit at it, as his fingers brush through your hair, letting it fall loosely over your shoulders. “Even prettier now, hmm?”

“Even prettier.” Suguru Geto murmurs, and then the two men, your bosses, are surrounding you, Gojo leaned on your seat, Suguru sitting on your desk, he simply smiles at you as Satoru leans in closer.

“I am so happy to be here, really. It’s such a big opportunity.” You murmur, looking down at your lap, heat embarrassingly growing between your thighs as you shift in your chair. “I was worried that I wasn’t catching on quick enough.”

“Nonsense. You're doing great. Better than most." Gojo said, as he looked at Geto. "Don't you agree?"

Geto nodded. "Definitely. You have a good head on your shoulders, not just a pretty face.” He gently brushes his fingertips along your jaw line, and you gasp a bit at the situation, at the touch.

"How about we hang out a bit and relax before we go home? It will help you unwind a bit.” Gojo suggests, brushing your hair back behind an ear. His touch electrified you, and your thoughts went awry.

Geto nodded in agreement. "Yeah, you've been working hard, I think it’s time we treat you a bit."

They lead you to a part of the office you hadn't seen before, a little room directly behind Gojo’s he unlocks it with a key, so casually, as your heart races. It was dimly lit, with a plush velvet couch that looked like it belonged in a cozy living room, and the room was lit with red LEDs, casting a glow more like some strip club.

You took a seat, feeling the soft cushions give way beneath you, and Gojo sat to your left, and Geto to your right, their long legs touching you on either side. You flush as their thighs brush against yours, as they casually lean back, arms touching behind your head. It's a little overwhelming. They were both so confident and gorgeous, and such powerful men… you feel tiny.

“You know… we have been wanting to do something special for you." Gojo said, his voice low and seductive, hand gently brushing your thigh now. You tense a bit, breathless, looking at the long elegant fingers on your bare leg.

Geto leaned in closer now too. "We noticed how hard you've been working for us, love, and we thought you could use some... relief. What do you think?” His hand is on your other thigh, big hand with strong fingers, each man has huge hands, but they’re so different, Gojo’s soft and Geto’s were calloused. They brush up and down simultaneously.

Your heart began to race, pounding inside your chest, you didn't know what they had in mind, but the way they were looking and touching you made your cunt start to throb around nothing. You shift nervously, friction on the couch hitting your clit and making you bite your lip.

“You all don't have to do anything special, I'm just glad I'm here.” You say softly, feeling your pulse thrum in your throat, when Gojo tilts your chin up, looking down at you with those beautiful eyes, even in the red light they glowed insanely bright, his full lips parted.

“So me and Sugu really, really like you.” He murmurs, and you flush, he laughs a bit at you. “Aw, you’re shy, that’s cute!”

“I…” You falter, unable to speak, when Geto now takes your chin in his hand, strong and sure grip, his eyes hooded with desire.

“Don’t let Satoru scare you, he’s a little too much.”

“Hey!” Gojo yanks you against him, pouting.

You giggle, breathless, and Geto rubs a thumb across your lower lip, shooting pleasure through your body, hot and aching. “We’ll be honest with you, love, you’re exactly our type.”

“Your type?” You murmur, trembling when Gojo eases your blazer down your arms, leaving you in your dress now, feeling tight against your skin.

“Mmhmm, we like to share, and we are rather picky. And busy. So… we think maybe you might be perfect for us.” Gojo says, and now Suguru’s nuzzling your neck just slightly, inhaling.

“You also smell fucking delicious.” He whispers, you shiver at that, as he kisses softly, making your tummy clench with how badly you want more.

“Th-thank you… but you all are like beautiful?” They laugh, both deep voices vibrating now.

“You’re beautiful. If you like it, how about we make it a regular thing?” Gojo whispers.

“If I like…”

“Us pleasuring you, love.” Geto finishes that thought, you squeak a bit at that, and they laugh at you.

“Maybe I’m dreaming.” You mumble, and Gojo pinches your thigh, you yelp, and he grins, bright white against the red lights of the quiet room.

“You’re single, right?” Gojo asks, so casually, unsnapping some of the buttons of your dress top. You nod. “Perfect. Isn’t she, Suguru?”

“She is indeed.” At the praise you’re bright fucking red, overheating when they have your dress slid off you, leaving you in your bra and panties, which were black lace. Suguru moans softly. “This body…”

“Fucking gorgeous.” Gojo finishes his words, they seem to do that, as if they’re always in sync. You bite your lower lip, tentatively touching their thighs now, strong under your small hands.

“Thank you…” You whisper, they hum approvingly, and then you look to Satoru, into his pretty goddamn eyes, lit with desire and hunger. “Will it change anything?”

“It will just make our days much more fun.” He whispers, raising his brows, smiling deviously. “Now, who will you kiss first?”

Your head arches back as they both caress your body, leaning closer and closer, and you look between them. “I don’t know! You’re both really fucking hot. And you both smell really amazing.”

They laugh, Gojo throwing his head back, Geto more chuckling. “I knew we liked you, Princess.” Geto whispers, leaning close, and you exhale.

“Fuck it.” You lean forward, kissing him softly, you gasp at the sensation, the little shocks on your lips, as his tongue slid in, hot and wet against your lips. You moan softly, reaching for Satoru with your hand, turning to him.

“You picked him first, what a brat!” He pouts, and you laugh, breathless, pulling him to you softly, eyes locking to his lips.

“I couldn’t pick, he was just closer. You’re both too… yeah.” Gojo leans forward more, as Geto continues to rub your thigh, higher and higher, Satoru grabs your hair, smashing his lips against yours, so different than the ease that Geto had. He was sliding his tongue inside your mouth, possessing it, and you moaned into his lips, feeling heady.

“I’ve never…” You trail off, nervous as you pull back, exhaling. “Done something like this.”

“Don’t worry, baby girl, we got you.” Satoru says softly, and turns your face to Suguru now. “Kiss him again, would you?”

You need no urging, you kiss him again, his lips fucking sensual and tantalizing as they dance across yours. Gojo kisses down the side of your neck, biting it, making you hiss a bit at his sharp teeth. He moans, gripping you tight, and Geto eases back, his eyes drinking you in.

“Who’s the better kisser hmm?” Gojo demands, and you flush, shaking your head, crying out when Suguru’s hand cups your breast over the lace of your bra, making your nipple tighten and press into his palm.

“You’re different. But both really fucking good.” You murmur, and Geto smirks at that.

“Don’t lie, Princess, I’m way better.”

“Bull shit Sugu! I’m elite at the shit.”

You burst into laughter, and they glare at you. “Oh shit.”

“I think she needs to be taught a lesson, don’t you Sugu?”

“She sure does.”

“Fuck…” You moan when their kisses grow more insistent, as their lips start to trail across you, their hands up and down your body. Gojo’s lips found your neck, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin again, making you arch your back.

Geto’s mouth moved to your breasts, taking one out of the cups of the lace, sucking a peak into his mouth and suckling gently as his hand played with the other, making you slick and wet, panties soaked. Gojo’s talented fingers find you over them, and he moans, blue eyes darting up to yours in stark want, you lose yourself in them, in the sensations.

“She’s soaked, Sugu. Feel her.” Satoru takes Suguru’s hand, putting it against the damp fabric, you cry out at the difference of Suguru’s big hand pressing against your clit.

“Ah! Ohmygod…” You whimper, and Suguru id now looking up at you, with that calm gaze, hidden with lust, his glossy lips parted, as he rubs little circles on your aching clit, pushing you over the edge.

“She’s drenched.” He whispers, then goes to slide his fingertip under your panties, finding your clit with his middle finger, swirling against it, making you scream out, arching your back up off the couch. “Let me taste you.”

He brings his finger to his mouth, sucking your wetness off, and your mouth drops open, the sexiest thing you’ve ever fucking seen. Satoru takes his fingers, rubbing them along your slit, slippery with want already, and you look to him, as he slides a finger inside you, filling you. You’re panting, your body aching for more, as he slides his finger in his mouth now.

“You taste so fucking good.” Gojo murmurs, kissing you again, and Suguru’s hand is back between your thighs, playing with your clit again, you press your cunt against his touch as your hands run through Gojo’s silky hair.

“I need more of you, Princess.” Comes Geto’s voice, and before you know it, he’s kneeling between your thighs, sliding your panties down.

“Oh! I… oh…” Your nerves hit hard, but Gojo kisses you again, peering down at Geto, who’s gripping your thighs now.

“Princess, you’re making a mess already.” Suguru says, yanking your hips toward him, Gojo laughs a bit, sliding off your bra now with ease as Geto strokes your cunt again.

“We’ve barely gotten started, baby girl. Can you handle us?” Gojo asks, you exhale, nodding. “What a good girl.”

Suguru’s head buries between your thighs, and your cunt gushes with just one flick of his tongue, so sensitive you can’t handle it, your hips buck up. Gojo laughs, softly, as Geto continues lavishing you with his tongue. Gojo takes your breast into his mouth, lavishing your nipples, each getting their own attention, while Suguru slides his tongue in you.

“Ah! Geto! Gojo!” They laugh at you, Suguru’s breath hot on your clit, looking up at you mischieviously as he slides a thick finger in you, long, filling you. You gasp, your cunt is already pulsing around it.

“Call us Satoru and Suguru.” Suguru whispers. “At least while we’re playing with your tight little cunt.” He tilts his finger up, and you’re blinded, seeing black spots and little sparkles.

“Suguru…” You whisper, he moans then, diving back in, face buried as he eats you up, licking all your wetness. Gojo’s yanked your hair, wrapping it around his fist, making you look into those eyes.

“I want to watch you cum, pretty girl. Keep your eyes open. Got it?” You nod, eagerly.

“Yes, Satoru. Ah! Fuck. Mnh…” Suguru is working his fingers and mouth on you now, and Gojo is watching your every expression like a hawk. One of your hands go to grip Suguru’s soft hair, as the other clutches Satoru’s chest, hips wriggling with Suguru begins to moan against you.

“That’s it, pretty, fall apart.” He whispers, full lips parted, watching every expression you had intently, just holding you there, flicking a fingertip on your nipple, as Suguru sucks on your little clit.

“Ah! Fuck, fuck… cumming…mnh!” You feel everything wash over you, as he hits that spot in you, as his tongue flicks faster, faster, you scream out your pleasure, cumming in hot spurts all over Geto’s pretty face.

“That’s it, pretty, good girl.” Gojo kisses you now, drinking in the last of your cries, you’re fucking twitching, and now Geto yanks your face to him, leaning over you, kissing you deeply. You moan into his mouth, clutching both of their jackets, as Gojo’s now rhythmically fingering you.

“Get on your hands and knees, Princess.” Suguru whispers, you eagerly comply, with shaky hands and legs, and they’re undressing, you salivate as you look at their bodies.

Suguru is tanned and muscular, tattoos running down his ribs, broad shouldered and chiseled. Gojo is a little slimmer, but every bit as cut if not more, pale skin glistening, and both of their… fuck. Their cocks are huge, bigger than anything you’ve seen, the same length, Suguru is just a little thicker. They’re both so gorgeous you feel your cunt pulsing again, and you whine.

“You look so beautiful like this.” Suguru murmurs, kneeling in front of you, as Gojo slides behind you.

“It’s my turn to eat you, baby girl.” Satoru murmurs, and you gasp when you feel his breath on your cunt, each hand gripping your ass cheek.

“Why don’t you tell me what you want, Princess?” Suguru murmurs, and you open your mouth.

“Your cock in my mouth. Mmn… Fuck, Satoru.” He’s humming on your clit, and you’re gushing. Suguru gently cups your face in his big hands, tilting your chin up.

“I’ll give you whatever you want, Princess.” He slides his cock into your open mouth, and you begin sucking on him, fitting your mouth around his thick length, as Gojo’s fucking you with his fingers, smacking your ass then.

“You’re so fucking wet.” Gojo whispers, arching those insane long fingers up, and Suguru gently pulls your hair, hips snapping into your mouth. “Do you want this cock inside you, baby?”

You moan, nodding on Suguru’s cock. He eases back, swiping a finger down your lips, coated in saliva and precum. “Yes, please, Satoru.” You peer back at him, and his eyes are so bright they’re hard to look at.

“Such a good girl for us, isn’t she Sugu?” He murmurs, and grabs your hips, sliding his cock against you, between your lips, against the puffy, overstimulated clit, making you cum again, shaking.

“She’s very good, Satoru.” He muses softly, opening your mouth back up, you lick the leaking tip of him, tasting him, salty but sweet. He groans, handsome face tense, as Satoru shoves his cock in you, deep.

You fucking scream.

“Ah! Fuck, fuck fuck.” Your hips buck, and Satoru pauses, rubbing his hands down your waist, down your hips, massaging you everywhere.

“You okay Princess?” Suguru asks softly, and Gojo reaches around, bending over you a bit, finding your clit.

“Ease up, baby girl. You’re too fucking tight.” He’s groaning, rubbing in little circles, making you wetter as he slides out and in.

“You don’t eat pussy as good as me, Satoru.” Suguru chides him, and you laugh, breathless, before moaning, soaking Gojo’s big cock, that’s stretching you beyond your fucking means.

“Yes I do, she's stupid tight. Focus on this clit, baby.” He murmurs, rubbing faster, and you exhale, loosening up as much as you can, as he’s pressed against your fucking cervix, something you’d not felt. It’s so intense you scream, around Suguru’s cock, sucking, crying as you do.

“You’re such a good little toy for us.” Suguru murmurs, lovingly almost, caressing your face now, your eyes lock onto his as you suck. “You’re doing so good.”

“Mmm…” You manage to moan, eyes shutting as Gojo hits so deep, fingering your clit, you start to feel yourself rise, higher and higher.

“That’s it, baby girl. Want us to fuck you like our doll?” Gojo murmurs, you helplessly nod, and then Gojo is fucking into you, as Suguru fucks your mouth, in some insanely perfect fucking rythm.

You’re cumming on Gojo’s cock, moaning around Suguru’s cock, Gojo’s hands have your hips, Suguru’s delicately hold your face, as they fuck you, in sync, and you’re trembling, gushing all over Satoru’s length. He groans, fucking slower now, pressing up just so, hitting your cervix in such a way you physically couldn’t handle, screaming as you are cumming again.

“You feel so fucking good, cumming around this cock, little doll.” Gojo murmurs, gripping you so tight as he presses fully in, too deep.

“I think it’s my turn, Princess.” Suguru says softly, easing his cock out, your suction makes a loud pop. You’re covered in your own drool, nodding mindlessly, as they switch.

Now Gojo’s long cock is in your mouth, you revel and how good it tastes, as he holds your hair tight, and Suguru is sliding into your wet, ready cunt. You feel so full, so stretched, so utterly consumed by it, he’s thicker in you, even harder to handle, but he takes his time, easing you into it.

“Fuck she does feel good.” Suguru moans, smacking your ass gently, and Gojo hisses as you wrap your tongue around him.

“And her mouth feels so good.” Gojo groans out, blue eyes boring into you, as you taste your cum on his cock. “Taste how good you are?”

“Mnh…” You moan around him, and Satoru holds your face now.

“Relax that tight throat.” He orders, you do as he bids, as Suguru slides back in you, hitting you so hard you’re about to cum again.

“Relax this little cunt too. Fuck, she’s too tight.” Suguru groans out, gripping your waist tight, fingers digging into your ribs. You’re trembling, overwhelmed by these two men, and you love it.

You love being their plaything, their toy to use. They’re starting to not be as gentle now, Suguru is fucking you harder, your tits are bouncing with each thrust, and Satoru is fucking your throat, until you’re crying. Both of their big hands are all over your body, gripping, pulling, pushing. You’re a ragdoll in their hands, and it’s the most alive you’ve ever felt.

“Cum around my cock, Princess. Let me feel you.” Suguru says from behind you, and is if on command, he presses in hard, bottoming out, and you’re screaming around Satoru’s cock as you’re cumming, pulsing around his thickness, filling you so deliciously you can’t imagine not feeling this. “Oh fuck…”

You manage to cry out as Satoru eases back for a moment, letting you breathe, then you’re flipped on your back, and they’re both on you, Satoru’s kissing you, then Suguru’s kissing you. Then, they’re kissing, making you even hotter, watching the two lazily kiss for just a damn moment.

“Oh that's hot…” You murmur, watching them two kiss over you, then you’re kissing both of them, all three of your tongues playing together, their hands on both of your breasts.

“Ride Satoru, love, would you?” Suguru asks softly, and Satoru grins, laying on his back eagerly. You nervously straddle him, moaning as he slides into you, as Suguru is holding onto your throat, choking you gently, pushing up.

“Fuck you’re so pretty.” Satoru murmurs at you, grabbing your breasts as they bounce, you’re fucking up and down him, while Suguru is sliding his hand down your spine, you feel an obscene amount of pleasure.

“Going to hell…” You murmur, incoherent, and they both laugh, Suguru as he slides a finger up your ass, and Satoru as he’s grabbing your waist, shoving into you harder now.

“We all will, Princess.” Suguru murmurs, continuing to choke you as you ride Satoru’s huge cock, slippery and wet along him, shoving his finger deep in your tight little ass hole now.

“Mnh, Sugu…” You whisper, the pain thrilling you. He owns you, as you’re riding Satoru, so fucking pretty under you, long cock hitting deep, every thrust making Suguru’s hand tighten on your throat, as his finger shoves deeper in you.

“Do you like that Princess?” He murmurs, and you nod, helpless.

“Haven’t… done… unh…” He exhales, and presses you forward, to where you’re laying on Satoru now, and clinging to him. He’s kissing you, deeply, and you feel Suguru’s breath behind you.

Satoru grabs your face, kissing you deeply, and next thing you know Suguru’s licking your little hole above where Satoru’s fucking you, swirling in little circles on your un played with anal hole. You shiver at the sensation, Satoru slows, spreading your ass cheeks for him, as if they knew everything each other did.

Satoru’s eyes lock into yours. “Only if you want this, baby girl. Sugu can make it feel really good.” He whispers, and you nod, tentatively, Satoru moans then, rubbing your clit with his thumb. “Just relax baby.”

“Relax, Princess, promise I’ll only do what you can take.” Suguru whispers, hot breath against you, and you moan in response, arching your ass up. He’s flicking his tongue against that spot endlessly, then he’s pressing against you.

“Fuck!” You cry out, as he presses in, and you hiss at the pain, they both hold you, their hands soothing your body, Suguru kisses your shoulders, your back, Satoru’s kissing your mouth.

“Ease up, baby girl.” Satoru whispers, and you exhale, tears falling as Suguru presses in more, stretching you in the newest sensation.

“Are you okay Princess?” Suguru whispers, shoved his head in now, stretching your tight hole, as Satoru’s stretching your cunt, and it’s so much you feel like you’re falling off the fucking planet.

“Ngh…” You cry out, and Suguru gently moves, not to hurt you, stretching you with his thick cock, and Satoru presses up, studying you with those blue eyes.

“You can do it, baby girl. You can take us.” He encourages you, and you rock back and forth, Satoru’s cock sliding out, Suguru in further, and you scream, voice hoarse. Satoru’s hands are on your breasts, mouth sucking, and Suguru’s holding you tight from behind.

“Princess… fuck…” He groans in your ear. “I’ve never felt anything better than being in you.”

“Fucking same… so good.” Satoru groans out, and then they’re moving, relentless but careful, filling both your holes over and over.

“That’s it, Princess.” Suguru encourages you, and you’re cumming now, slick against Satoru’s cock, your muscles relaxing to take more of Suguru’s massive cock now, losing control, losing yourself.

“Sofuckinggood unh…” Your words jumble together, and you moan your release into Gojo’s sweet lips, as he drinks in your cries. Suguru is leaning forward, biting your neck and shoving deep in your ass now. You struggle to grip onto Satoru, like he’s your tether, as they both fuck into you.

“I wanna fuck her ass, Sugu.” Satoru murmurs, and Suguru laughs, pulling your head back to look at him.

“Maybe next time.” He says softly, shoving in all the way, and you cry out, ass clenching tight around him, making you both moan with the intensity.

“Selfish brats.” Satoru grumbles, and you giggle a bit, before he plays your clit again, and you’re cumming, riding Satoru and Suguru’s cocks, as they begin to tense, their touches harsher, strokes deeper, so much to handle.

“Fuck that.” Satoru groans, then eases out of you, Suguru does too, scowling over at Gojo now, he flips you to where you’re on his stomach, on your back, and then he’s got his cock pressed on your ass. “Hold these pretty legs up, Sugu.”

“You’re so annoying, Satoru.” Suguru grins though, holding your legs up and spitting on your ass, spreading it as lube. You tremble, feeling helpless, as Gojo holds you from under you, arching up into your ass now. You scream.

“Oh fuck… so fucking tight… jesus fuck…” Gojo moans, as his long cock stretches your aching asshole, and Suguru leans on you then, shoving his thick cock back in your pussy, and they’re both stretching you.

“Oh my god! Ah… fuck…” You cry out, hoarse, as now Suguru’s fucking your cunt, and Satoru’s fucking your ass. Satoru pulls your head to the side, biting your neck, wrapping his big arms around you, and Suguru has your thighs high, slamming into you, chocolate eyes staring into yours.

“You’re so beautiful.” Suguru whispers, you grip him tightly, hanging on for dear life as they fuck both your holes, in rythm, you cum so hard you can’t function, and soon you’re limp as a ragdoll.

“Our doll is tired.” Satoru says under you, biting your neck as your head lolls to the side, and Suguru holds your face, kissing you deeply.

“Does our doll want us to fill her holes?” Suguru groans out, and you’re nodding, eagerly. “Breed her?”

“Yes… yes… please fucking fill me.” You whisper, and they grab you so hard, smushing you between them, you can’t fucking breathe, all it was… was pure fucking ecstacy, as they each thicken in your holes. Gojo is going easy, Suguru is fucking so deep, you feel them both start to pulse.

“Cum again Princess.” Suguru urges, and Satoru is pulling your hair, Suguru is kissing you, you’re cumming around his thick cock, screaming into his mouth, clenching Satoru’s cock.

“Fuck…” They both bite out, and then Suguru’s cumming, hot seed painting your insides in thick ropes, as he kisses you, so deep. Then Satoru’s cumming in your ass hole, filling it insanely deep, and he yanks your head, moaning his release in your mouth.

You’re spent, shaking, both of their cum leaking from your holes, as you’re still pulsing, body done, unable to function. Then they’re both on either side of you, hugging you, kissing you, so sweetly. You fall into their embraces, letting them wipe your tears of pleasure and overstimulation away.

“You were amazing, Princess.” Suguru murmurs, and you tremble in his touch, as he wipes your tears.

“So amazing baby girl.” Satoru whispers, cuddling you from behind, caressing your face so gently.

“Are you okay love?” Suguru asks, and you realize how much they care, how worried they are for you.

“It was fucking amazing.” They chuckle at that, their arms are joined over you, holding all of you tightly. “I just… new things?”

“We can practice plenty.” Satoru says, and you giggle.

“So this will happen again?” You ask, and they both grin, kissing all over your face now, gentle little pecks.

“We would love it to happen, frequently. Wouldn’t we Sugu?” Gojo kisses your shoulder gently, leaving goosebumps.

“We would, if you want that.” Suguru whispers, and you nod, sighing, resting against them both, in a tangle of limbs.

“Oh fuck yes, please. I will be like the best assistant ever?” They both laugh at that, and then you all talk, as you’re all naked, wrapped together, and their cum and your pleasure is sliding out of you.

You’ve never felt better.

You have the best fucking job ever.

[kisakunt]

THE RICH MAN’S GUIDE TO CORRUPTION

GIVE IT UP FOR LOVE

warnings… i mean some absolute swine talk, gojo and geto are evil men, you’re a sweet and pure virgin. swearing, mentions of fucking, really just vile pig shit.

synopsis… suguru and satoru have a lovely chat over a warm summers breeze. oh! and sweet, un-expecting, vulnerable you is the topic of discussion.

a word from the creator… idk if i mentioned this but this fic is based loosely off the movie cruel intentions! banger film, check it out. i wrote a lot of this chapter awhile ago so if the writing style switches up next chapter don’t sue me. i’m excited!!!! here’s to the next eleven chapters of hell

series masterlist

Gojo hates the heat. He thinks he's tolerated it before on his father’s yacht or when he did an unnecessary shirtless carwash for extra money he didn't need; but right now with the breeze through the window— that Suguru demanded be open— overbearing the air conditioner, he's absolutely positive that summer is the worst.

“Start of the year’s comin’, yknow.” He typically broke the silence— as if he could ever shut up to begin with— and he was almost always met with a:

“No shit.” strident response. Those seemed to be Suguru’s speciality, and provoking them seemed to be Satoru’s.

It’s too hot. His white hair presses into the drywall, feeling much cooler than the air outside. “I’m not stupid, Suguru. Neither are you, you know what I mean.” It’s an overdramatic sigh— a call for attention— as he turns his head over to look at him.

“They’re gonna ask us about it soon.” And, in some way Suguru can’t really comprehend, Gojo sounds excited.

His manner isn’t necessarily wrong, not so much as it is unexpected. The ‘new year, new fuck’ competition of Azabu was practically famous among the young men certain to attend— the sons of the sons who started it, and all their nephews or cousins or any synonym for a pig of a relative that they could come up with. And, luckily enough, they had the privilege to be top candidates.

The competition was started by the current dean’s uncle, a horny fuck-all type who would take any and all excuse to boost his ego while tearing down a girls— or maybe he really did just want a good lay. But, it grew and grew and grew, and now it was almost ritualistic, a second identity of worthiness in the form of fucking a virgin before anyone else did.

Sure, they were nothing but thrilled for it as high school reached an end, or even the first or second year of university. But now it just seemed dull.

But, traditions are custom, and customs are a necessity. It’s almost become lore throughout their little clique of affluence; whispered stories from childhood turned into real competition after a long wait, especially from a group of people who so rarely have to wait for anything. It’s inspiring, they think, means to associate themselves with a lower class; normalize themselves just a little more.

Alumni share stories at functions, putting the frat in fraternizing, nonchalance on the tips of their tongues. Sometimes the tone almost feels dark, and Suguru thinks if he were a better person he’d feel some type of sympathy for the girls. Any fragment of empathy he had wiped away when he won for the first time, though, wide smirk as his year mates glared at him; memories of the tight, albeit idiotic, girl engrained behind the lids of his eyes.

Even so, it gets old quick. And it’s not like they don’t fuck dumb, stupid, silly girls with nothing to say for the rest of the year anyway. So, he can’t quite figure out what Gojo is all too excited about.

“Well try to make sure your dick doesn’t get hard from the thought, you fucking freak.” There’s a giggle from the other man, a scoff too, and he pushes his hand out at him.

This is crucial. This is who they are together. A pair— whether it’s a pair of awful men or not.

There’s also a sense of trepidation that comes with it, of course. It’s exclusive, more so than they already are, and if you do one thing wrong- speak a little too loud, come off too brash, give a lackluster lie after actually getting caught— you’re out. And whose pride would want that?

“It’s stupid we always gotta wait for them to sit us down, it’s not like we don’t know what’s coming up.” He scoffs, arms crossing over his chest. “Plus, what a fucking weird thing to say to your kid.”

“I mean the whole thing’s odd if you think about it.” Gojo shrugs, hands stuffed in his pockets, forearms bare against the linen of his trousers.

He’s right, of course. Even if neither of them feel guilt for their actions, they can’t ignore the sinking feeling in their stomach when their own fathers sit them down and incite such a twisted view on them.

Be that as it may, it’s not too bad when that’s all they know, and it’s not like either of them are going to complain at a quick orgasm, a nice pair of tits, and that goddamn feeling of triumph.

“Do you think they’ll cry again?” Satoru mocks, brimming with glee as he leans in the direction of his friend. “It’s always funny, dontcha think?”

“As if you’d know,” There’s a smirk despite the aggression in his tone. “Dunno why it matters so much to you, you already got bitches babbling about you all the time.”

Gojo sighs, expression bored and childish and fucking greedy. “Yeah, I know but…” His voice peters out, lost in the room. Elation bubbles back into his features, warming his cheeks and animating his eyes as he looks at Suguru.

“Yknow, I heard the dean has a daughter starting, actually. Real sweet gal, even wrote a whole fucking magazine article about the importance of ‘saving your innocence’” his voice wobbles, eyes rolling as he sneers. “for someone you really love.”

“Sounds like she’s ugly.”

“Thought so, too, but..” He trails off, hand fishing in his back pocket for his phone, pupils dilating at the light on his screen. It doesn’t take him long to find the photo; clearly he’s been sitting on his discovery for awhile, anticipating when he could tell him. “Look.”

Suguru doesn’t like to be wrong, much less will he ever admit it. “Holy shit.” You aren’t necessarily the prettiest girl he’s ever seen, probably not even the prettiest he’s seen in the last month, but you were definitely something.

Maybe it was the curve of your jaw or the tint in your lips, but the photo set something off in him. On the surface he thinks it’s the just barely explicit face you’re making in your mirror, phone in hand as you look into your lens, but really, honestly, if he’s searching deep down— it’s the fact he knows you’re the one girl who wouldn’t just throw herself on him if he so kindly asked.

“Sugu, are you ever bored of this? It feels too easy, right?” Suddenly Gojo’s previous excitement feels misplaced, voice itching for more. “Hardest part about it is finding out who’s actually a virgin or not, and that’s pretty simple with how awkward they get.”

“What are you saying?” Maybe he already knows, maybe he’s hoping for the obvious, but he asks like he doesn’t care. The former moves fast, hand steady on the desk as he leans far too close for comfort. In any other situation, he’d probably be met with a harsh jab to the face, but this feels different— secret.

“Let’s do something, on our own, just you and me.” He almost seems too impatient, pressure digging into the ground from the toes of his shoes and gaze begging. It was the kind of thing that made you want to agree, if nothing else to just feel a fraction of the way he seemed to be. Before Suguru could even consider the idea, test the waters and make Gojo beg a little bit, said boy opened his mouth again.

“I mean, unless you’re not up for it. You don’t really seem like the type to make a girl give it up for love.” He snickers, raising the back of his hand to his forehead as he feigns swooning.

“Geto, I— I love you.” His voice is high, wheezy in his imitation and a little rude. “I think.. I think I’m ready- I want it to be you.” He cuts himself off with his own laugh, hand circling over his mouth to try to stifle himself. “Could you imagine?”

“The fuck does that mean?!”

“Cmon, Suguru, you’re not really the endearing type.” He’s edging him now, tone manipulative and pressing and snarky and Suguru knows— of course he knows, but it can’t help but irk him.

“What are you thinking?” And now Gojo’s beaming again, feet guiding him back across the room to his bag, books stacked neatly inside, lying even against each other. He pulls out a magazine and tosses it to him haphazardly before he reaches back for a notebook and a pen.

“Page 36, read it.” The article is cheesy. It’s too long and feels like something right off a self care Facebook page. Suguru is sure he physically recoiled a couple times reading it; especially when you wrote ‘Virginity is a miracle— the ability to show someone how much you love them in such an intimate way should be saved for someone special.’.

It’s shocking that you’re the daughter of the man who oversees their little sex game.

Suguru thinks you’re vile— embarrassing and pathetic and a huge fucking waste of what seems like a really good pair of blowjob eyes. It makes his skin crawl and he verbally scoffs when he reads your finishing sentence about cherishing your virtues, so focused on the arrogance in your punctuation that he doesn’t even hear Gojo’s laugh.

“Pretentious as shit, right?” He snorts, eyes flickered as he recites the passage in his head. “It’s gonna feel so good to fuck the words right out of her mouth.” Suguru didn’t know what he expected from his friend, but it wasn’t that. It’s clear through, through and through, that he’s dedicated to the idea.

“I mean sure, I guess you’ll have your turn. Maybe she’ll fuck just about anyone after I win.”

“Wait, so you’re in?”

“Whatever.”

“Fuck yeah!” He’s joyful, fist pumping into his chest in a quick celebration before he’s holding up his notebook, standing directly across the floor from the desk.

The wood is dark, deep and marbled, glazed over the top and lined with little symbols of power in the form of trophies. It’s clearly something too nice to serve as a welcome mat, but nonetheless Suguru rests his heels on the surface, ankles crossed over each other as he leans back in his chair. His eyes point to the ceiling to look at anything other than the annoyance in front of him.

“Well clearly we need to set up some rules.” He sneers in his seat when he remembers not looking at him won’t make him shut up.

“Okay well we have the obvious: whoever fucks first wins. And I mean fucks, none of that sloppy anal shit. Doesn’t count.” It’s almost funny, but neither of them acknowledge it. If they do, that’ll come hand in hand with the fact they’re acting just like their fathers.

“She has to be sober.” He didn’t really expect himself to say that, but he did expect Satoru to whine.

Gojo lets it sit in the air for a second before he nods curtly and jots something done.

“Would it be too cocky to say she has to cum?” The journal’s away from his face now and someone could, and probably would, argue that the walls are lucky to see the boyish grin he’s got. His smirk pulls up at the corners of his lips, but Suguru just finds it vexing. Gojo is far too full of himself, he thinks, and he hates to admit there’s good reason.

Nonetheless, he has to give him a little shit. “Do they normally not with you?”

“Hey! That’s not what I meant, asshole.” There’s something sweet to Satoru, under all the sickening that is his personality. It makes people understand just why girls fall for him, and definitely helps him keep a good image to the public.

And there’s something smart to him that makes you feel like he could really pull whatever he wanted off. It makes the idea of competing with just him much more appealing.

“Are we gonna have like a— fuck I don’t know— like a time limit?”

“Fuck is this? A video game?”

“I mean no, but competition wise if it takes us like half a year isn’t that kind of stupid? Because who’s to say she won’t ‘really love you’ by then, and then you’re not making her go against anything, yknow?” And there's also something meticulous about him that makes him aggravating as all hell.

“Fine. A month.”

“Just a month?”

“Yeah, you’re right. Plus, anything longer than that and we’d just be a couple of fucking losers chasing after a bitch.” Suguru knows Gojo is giving him a look without even seeing it, the slightly judgmental and almost kind one he does. “What? You’re the one who said it to begin with.”

“Yeah, okay, whatever. A month.” It’s silent for a second, comfortable with all their years of each other, before he clears his throat.

“That it then?” Maybe they’re the same kind of evil. Maybe they deserve each other.

“One more, actually.” There’s that feeling from him again, the tone that makes Suguru want to agree aimlessly for no fucking reason other than the possible rush. And before he can fester; before his skin can start to crawl and his hands can get clammy just from that sheer desire in his voice, Gojo grins.

“You need proof. And I don’t mean her saying it, because you can bribe anyone into saying anything. Gotta show it, photo or video or something, balls deep or whatever the fuck.” That almost makes Suguru laugh.

“I don’t think she’s gonna go for that one, no matter how good the dick is.”

“She doesn’t have to know.” Now he’s really thrilled. He doesn’t know what it is, but that lights something in him, stirs in his stomach and causes a little quiver in his brow.

“Fuck yeah, man,” he’s really laughing now, pointing at the journal harshly. “write that shit down.”

There’s something unspoken over them now, a deeper bond than they thought they could have. Neither of them would ever admit it, but it feels like they’re those two high schoolers again, counting down til they can become something fucking great. This is the feeling they’re supposed to get from their fathers’ stupid fucking contest. This is actual competition, a chance to actually win.

A new air falls on them, mixed back in with that warm, rich breeze.

“Okay, that settles that then.” Gojo offers, fingers tapping the binding of his book. “She has to be attending the start of the year banquet so that’ll be an excuse to meet her. Everything from then on is up to us.” Suguru always dreaded that shitty event, but now he finds himself doing mental math to count how far away it is.

Even if the whole thing is trivial, and even if you seem like the most uptight thing ever, Suguru is a man of pride. And prideful he’ll be.

“We still gotta do the ‘new year’ thing, you know. They’ll burst a fucking artery if we say we’re not interested.” His voice is gravelly and calm and so not anything he’s feeling, but he thinks Gojo buys it when he chuckles.

“Can you be excommunicated from being a womanizer? Because I think we would be.” They’re almost joking like everything is normal. It’s different, so much different, but they’re acting the same.

“I’m gonna go grab some water and maybe call one of your maids to make lunch, you want anything?” Suguru shakes his head, shifting in his seat as he tries his hardest not to look at the journal Satoru set on the side table.

“Suit yourself, I’ll be back.”

“Whatever,” He waits after Gojo walks out. Waits a good forty five seconds before he stands up, and he crosses the room in about three.

He glances over at the thrown aside notebook, eyes quick as he scans it. The handwriting is adjacent to messy, scattered and the page is littered with semi vulgar doodles and side bars. It’s coherent, though, and even though they both know Gojo had no intention of giving it to him, it’s got his signature at the bottom.

1. Full fucking!! Penis in vagina

2. No signs of being inebriated. Absolutely stone cold sober

3. If it takes longer than a month after everyone is introduced we’re both “a couple of fucking losers” (< Sugu’s words)

4. Orgasms are important ! Or at least near orgasms (she is a virgin)

5. Photo / video proof. If you can’t get it, you aren’t in it (haha! get it?)

He snickers at four, the uneasy tone in the second sentence almost self deprecating. Despite that, he can’t help but feel a smidge of respect that he ended up adding it to begin with.

He grabs the pen from the table, pressing into the paper too hard as he leaves his chicken scratch of a John Hancock. Okay, maybe this will be fun.

taglist… @moonlight-pearls @sharkerino @echerie

[authorhjk1]

Can you please make a smut about MINA getting laid by some rich white guy after the fendi event.

Connections

Mina

Connections are everything. That's what Mina found out throughout the last couple of years. As along as she has friends that are up high enough, she can get anything. A better contract with JYP, her own house, a car, power, all of it.

And how does she become friends with those important people? It's simple actually.

Mina can't hide her smile as she walks towards the big building in front of her, cameras flashing while she waves.

It really is easy to make all those rich guys listen to her. It doesn't even take that long.

Throughout the event, she lays eyes on a guy who seems to be the most important man in the room. His suit looks really expensive. Her plans are disrupted though. Mina sees his wife hanging onto his arm.

A smirk plays around her lips before she takes a sip of the champagne. Since she is a huge introvert, people never pay much attention to her at these events as long as she doesn't speak too much.

But she can use that to her advantage. His wife looks way older than her. And Mina knows how pretty she is herself.

It really doesn't take long. She catches his eyes once. A couple of coy glances in his direction. A longer stare across the room that takes a couple of seconds. A seductive smile. A bite on her finger.

And here she is now. A couple of minutes later. In one of the rooms upstairs. The man's hands on her waist, his wife forgotten.

Mina feels how his lips travel along her neck. She let's out a moan as she tilts her head back.

She tried to justify her actions when she first started this. She told herself that she is only doing this for money and favours. But after a while, Mina liked the idea of some stranger fucking her. At an event where everyone else is oblivious.

"Let me see your cock."

Mina kneels on the carpet in front of him, giving him another seductive glance, before she starts to undo his pants. The man strokes her hair, encouraging her to take his cock into her mouth. It's not the biggest she's had, but it's more than enough to have fun with.

Her lips part as Mina starts her blowjob. Her hands are at the base of his shaft, slowly stroking him. He keeps his hand in her hair, occasionally pulling her a little further onto his cock.

"I'm usually not a woman like this."

She gives him a coy smile.

That's what she tells all of those guys. She found out that she can get even more favours like this. The men think they are something special to her.

"Really?"

He smiles down at her in disbelief.

"My parents are very conservative. I promised them that I would stay pure until marriage. But when I saw you..."

Mina's words trail off as she resumes her blowjob. She can feel how the man gets even harder at her words. She tries to hide her smile as she keeps sucking him off.

"How are you so good at this?"

He asks, while he feels how Mina's tongue glides along the length of his shaft with every bob of her head.

"I'm a natural, I guess."

She keeps up this fake innocence, knowing that this will be even more beneficial.

Mina can feel how this whole thing makes her pussy wet. Sucking off some stranger at an event. His wife downstairs. All of it makes her horny as fuck.

"You wanna put it in?"

"What?"

He is surprised. He thought, Mina would only give him head.

"I-I'm really needy."

No one can resist her coy smile. Especially if she is on her knees with a cock in her hand.

"Of course."

He helps her up, before letting his hands roam all over her dress. Mina sighs again as she feels his lips on her flawless skin. He kisses her shoulder, before he slowly pulls off the straps of her dress.

The top is now bunched up around her waist, exposing her tight midriff and her white bra. He doesn't know that Mina is wearing a push-up bra. She came prepared, ready to entice her next victim with her ample chest.

"Please hurry. We have to be downstairs soon. I don't want to be caught."

Mina is wet enough already, she doesn't need further stimulation. She let's her dress fall onto the floor, staying true to her own words.

He can't help but admire her slim figure. His wife hasn't looked this fit for a couple of years now. And Mina also looks a little younger. A little less experienced.

All of it drives him further into her trap.

He pushes her white underwear to the side, exposing her pussy.

Mina lets out a moan as he let's his fingers glide over her lower lips. He notices how wet she is. Her folds glisten with arousal.

The young woman leans against the wall behind her, the man leans down to kiss her lips. He plays with her pussy for a couple of moments as the two of them exchange a heated kiss.

"Please..."

Mina begs, asking him to fuck her. To forget about his wife. To cheat on her.

A lewd moan escapes her mouth as she feels his cock graze her pussy lips. Another one leaves her lips as he pushes inside of her.

He can't believe how tight Mina is. It makes his desires for her even stronger. He needs to fuck her. Hard.

Pushing further inside, he almost loses control, her walls hugging him almost painfully tight.

"Please... Please be gentle. You are so thick."

He smiles at her words, slowing down a little.

Mina stares up at him, her head resting against the wall as he slowly moves in and out of her pussy. Her hands find his shoulders, while his are holding onto her waist.

For the following minutes, the room is almost quiet. Except for the occasional moan from Mina and the man's groans. They either engage in a lustful kiss, or place their lips on each other's bodies.

Mina can feel how his grip on her waist becomes stronger over time. How his thrusts turn more powerful and deep.

Her legs quiver in response, his cock grazing her walls with every move. He stretches her out really well. Mina closes her eyes, enjoying this dirty feeling. This lewd moment.

It doesn't last much longer though.

"I-I think I'm close."

Mina opens her eyes again, feeling the man's cock twitch inside of her.

She starts to act innocent once again.

"W-Where can you cum so that no one notices?"

His low groan confirms that her magic is working.

"Maybe your pussy?"

It's a bold move. Mina manages to make herself blush.

"Wouldn't someone be able to see it, if it runs down my legs? And maybe even gets on my feet?"

"Aren't you gonna wear your panties?"

Mins nods, knowing he is only moments away from blowing his load.

"But I think it's too risky."

She lets a finger run along her lips.

"I'd rather swallow your cum."

The look on his face almost makes her laugh. He tries his best to keep himself together, lazily thrusting in and out of her, hoping he could postpone his orgasm as much as possible. But her last words finally trip him over the edge.

His cock slips out of her and Mina immediately kneels down again. Her face on the same height as his cock once more.

"Please cum in my mouth."

She sounds so innocent, while her words are laced with lust.

He can't help himself but thrust into her mouth. Her warmth welcomes him, her tongue working on his shaft.

He finally cums down her throat a couple of moments later. Mina feels his thick load paint her mouth. The saltiness makes her moan around his cock.

Mina smiles into the camera. As if nothing happened. But she can feel the lack of panties underneath her dress. She gave them to her new 'friend'. A sign for him to give her what ever she wants.

She can still taste a small hint of his cum on her tongue. Her smile is genuine. She is excited to go home.

--------

Sorry for the long wait, I hope this is what you had in mind.

For everyone else who plans to send in requests, please feel free to write more than just a sentence. Not because I lack ideas, but because we have different thoughts in our minds. I might interpret parts of your request wrong, or at least different. So please don't be disappointed, if these turn out differently from what you had in mind.

Thank you for reading.

Stay healthy!

[lesservillain]

strange lights masterlist

summary: all the answers give you is more questions

cw: reader is almost assaulted (but the day is saved)

wc: 6.2k

Snarling. Teeth. Screaming.

“Get out of here!”

“Why is she here?” 

“They’ll eat her alive!”

Wild gusts of wind hit you from every direction, disorienting you as you try to steady yourself against the push and pull. When you finally open your eyes, you find yourself at the edge of a cliff where water crashes harshly against the rocks at the bottom. Every time you try to take a step away, a force pushes you closer to the drop. 

Just as you feel your foot teetering over the edge, a voice calls out your name. The wind ceases its push and you’re able to regain your footing. When you look up to see who called your name, your eyes lock onto a figure emerging from the woods. It looks familiar, long brown curls and snow white skin, but the face is unfamiliar. 

It’s that of a monster. Sharp fangs and bright, glowing red eyes that are locked on you. You’re no longer being pushed towards the edge, rather you’re locking in place as the creature gets closer to you, stalking you slowly as it prepares to pounce. 

Only when another voice calls out does the monster break its trance. 

It happens in a flash. You see Steve running out of the woods towards the monster, and then his body contorts, shifting and changing into a wolf before your eyes. You watch intently as he charges at the monster. They’re so close that they almost--

BEEP BEEP BEEP

Shooting straight up, your chest heaves as you are suddenly woken up from your sleep. You wipe the cold sweat that covers your neck and forehead with your shirt as you let yourself adjust to being awake, recounting the recurring dream that you’ve been having since that night at Loch Nora over a month ago.

It was probably your subconscious trying to tell you that you need to talk to the two men that keep appearing in the visions. Or maybe it was a warning, them turning into monsters being your mind telling you that both of them were no good.

You hadn’t talked to either man since your last encounters with them. Not that Eddie had been trying to get a hold of you, but Steve was a different story.

Texts and calls from him started late that night, apologies for what happened and how rude Tommy was to you. You’d sent him a single text back telling him that it was fine and have left him on read ever since. On one hand you felt bad for ignoring him and his obvious attempts to try and fix whatever potential the two of you may have had. On the other hand, you didn’t think you could stomach the idea of showing your face around his friends ever again. You’d even been avoiding Jonathan and his friends when they’ve come in to the store, retreating like a coward to the back room to let the new part timer take over.

Today was a boring day though. Nothing of interest going on as you were the only person there besides Heather and Barb. They were still busy taking orders when the front door rang for the millionth time. Expecting it to be another Starbucks customer, you don’t even bother saying anything to them as they come in.

“Excuse me.”

A familiar voice caught your attention, making you turn on your heels. It was Dustin and Lucas again, both of them looking quite excited to see you.

“Oh, hey guys, whats up?” You say, setting a box of games down.

“Yes, we’re looking for the new special edition Darth Vader figure,” Lucas says with a glimmer in his eyes. This time you knew what they were talking about.

“Sorry boys, can’t put it out until Friday,” you said with a smirk. They deflated in front of you and you honestly started to feel bad for them.

“Please,” Dustin begs, about to get on his knees to plead with you. “We need to get some before they sell out while we’re at school.”

“You really think they’ll sell out in this town?” You ask with a “get real” tone.

“You don’t understand,” Lucas says with frustration, “These are limited quantity and people will be coming from all over to get it.”

You give them both an unserious look. You’re about to tell them no when an idea sparks in your mind.

“Okay, fine,” you start, and both the boys jump for joy. “But--”

“But?” Dustin says with a groan.

“But, you have to give me some info.”

“Whatever you want to know, just ask,” Lucas says, shaking his head.

“Alright, I want the scoop on your friend Eddie. You guys seem to know him pretty well and I want to know what his deal is.”

“Eddie? That’s easy. What do you want to know?” Dustin says.

You ponder for a moment. You didn’t really think this far, and you had a million questions that you wanted answers to, but you weren’t sure how much these kids would know.

“I guess…what are his hobbies?”

“Well, he’s a total nerd. Knows everything about every edition of D&D,” Lucas starts.

“Yeah, but he’s totally inept with technology, so he’s more like a geek,” Dustin adds with a tilt of his head.

“He’s into nerdy stuff though, like Star Wars and Tolkien.”

“Yeah, he carried around a copy of The Hobbit that looks like it’s a hundred years old.”

“He really needs a new copy of that, doesn’t he?” Lucas asks Dustin, who nods in return.

“Okay, what does he do in his spare time besides nerd stuff?” You ask, trying to refocus them.

“He writes music,” Lucas says.

“Yeah, with his guitar,” Dustin says, wiggling his eyebrows.

That makes total sense. Eddie looked like the type of guy who would play a guitar.

“I’m guessing it’s like rock music then?”

“Metal mostly,” Dustin says with a nod.

“Yeah, he’s super into 80’s metal music,” Lucas says, “ Like Dio and Black Sabbath. Which we only know because of him. That’s like stuff our dad’s listen to, but Eddie’s really into it.”

“So he looks like he came from the 80’s and listens to the music? Really into the revival that’s going on right now, I guess. What about…I don’t know, food? What does he like to eat?”

Lucas and Dustin look at each other for a moment. They seem like they’re trying to wrack their brains for an answer but come up blank.

“Honestly…I’ve never seen him eat.”

“Yeah, me either.”

That sparks your interest.

“You’ve never seen him eat?” You ask, prying for more details.

“Yeah, we don’t usually eat at our games so we’ve never really seen him eat.”

“But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t eat,” you say.

“Yeah, but even when we go places with him he doesn’t eat. He never talks about food either. Kinda weird now that I think about it,” Dustin says with a finger to his chin.

“Is it really that weird?” You ask with a laugh.

“I mean, considering how many times we’ve gone places to eat and he’s never gotten anything other than black coffee…Maybe he just doesn’t like fast food?”

“I guess I never really thought about it,” Lucas says, “But Eddie is kinda weird.”

“Weirdest guy I know,” Dustin says with a nod of pride.

“How else is he weird?”

“Well, his skin is, like, super cold all the time.”

“Probably from his lack of nutrition if he doesn’t eat a lot,” Lucas says as if he made a valid point, to which Dustin nods. “But he’s like crazy strong.”

“Oh, yeah. I swear he lifted a heavy ass table with one hand one time.”

“So basically he’s a crazy strong, technologically inept 80’s nerd with a dislike for fast food?”

Both boys look at each other and nod.

“Yep.” They say in unison.

“And you don’t find any of that weird?”

“Nah, it’s just Eddie.”

With all this new information, you began to wonder about the man in question more. Even after the boys left with their Vader figure, you still pondered all the things that they had told you.

You certainly could vouch that his skin was cold. You’d felt it with their own touch. And he really was like a living time capsule of the 80’s, hair and all. But there was a million guys online doing the same look so you can’t really base anything off of that. 

There was the weird thing about eating, but maybe it was just that; a weird thing. Maybe he’s not the type to eat in front of others. You did see him get a black coffee before, so it’s not like he could be drinking…something else.

But it all still seemed odd to you. There were even more questions than there were answers at this point, and you didn’t know if you’d ever have the chance to ask them yourself.

“Hellooooo?”

Heather’s voice pulled you from your thoughts. She was standing in front of your counter for god knows how long while you were just staring into the empty store.

“Sorry, what’s up?” You finally say.

“Everything good?” Heather asks.

“Yeah, just bored out of my mind.”

“I wish I could say the same,” Heather laughs, leaning over the counter. “ But we finally have a break in customers so I wanted to come ask you something.”

“Lay it on me.”

“Well,” Heather starts, “You remember Tammy from the party, right?”

“Yeah, your southern friend?”

“Yes! So her and Barb and I are going out tonight to this club, right, and we thought it would be totally cool if you came along?” Heather gives you a hopeful look.

“To a club? I don’t know…”

“Please?!” Barb shouts from across the store. You laugh at the desperation in her voice and take a minute to ponder on it. It might be fun to go out and have a little adventure after the rough start you’d had so far in this town.

“I guess if you don’t mind me and my cast cramping up your style,” you say waving your arm back and forth.

“Yay! It’s going to be so much fun!”

The club was indeed fun. It was girls night so you got in for free, and guys were buying you and your friends drinks left and right. It didn’t take long for you to start feeling pretty tipsy, but you swore it made your dancing better. You were even surprised to see Barb getting down with a guy that she met, not taking her for a social girlie.

As the night progressed you felt yourself needing to take a little break from the group and their high energy. Your ribs were still store and the ache in your hand was starting to bother you, so you decided to go outside to the smoking area. Maybe you could find one to bum off of someone.

The cool air felt great on your skin, instantly chilling you after being in the stuffy nightclub. You noticed there was quite a few people outside enjoying the fresh air this evening while they smoked. A group of guys that seemed to be looking your way caught your attention.

“Hey,” you say, approaching the group, “Can I bum a smoke off of one of you?”

The guys all look at each other. “Sure,” one of them finally says, handing you over a cigarette. He offers his lighter and you light the end.

“Thanks,” you say, blowing out the smoke. “You guys having fun out here?”

“What was that?” The same guy asks, leaning in.

“I said are you guys having fun out here!”

“Sorry, I can’t hear you over the music,” the guy says, which was weird because you could hear him just fine. “Can we move over there?”

He gestures to the other side of the smoking area where there’s an alley way and you nod, following the group.

But, as soon as you rounded the corner, you felt something on your sore arm.

“Hey!” You yelped, trying to pull away from the hand that had grabbed you.

The men started chuckling, closing in on you. It felt like everything was going dark as you couldn’t fight back hard enough against them. You braced yourself for whatever was about to happen to you.

But then, the light started to shine again. You opened your eyes and saw the guys flying one by one over the gate and into the alley way. Trying to refocus your vision, you see one person standing with one of the guys held up in the air. You watch as the person punches them so hard they are sent straight into the wall of the other building, out cold when they hit the pavement.

After all the guys are cleared, the figure approaches you. In the light, you’re able to make out the face of…Eddie?

“Are you okay?” He asks in an angry tone.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine. How did you--”

“Come on.”

You’re cut off when you’re being hoisted off the ground bridal style. Eddie unlatches the gate behind you, and you notice the iron lock is broken off and laying on the ground.

“Where are we going?” You ask, looking up at him

“Somewhere safe,” is all he says as he carries you through the alley. 

“But my friends--”

“You were almost just attacked and you’re worried about your friends?” He says with a hysterical laugh. “You are a glutton for punishment, you know that.”

“I just don’t want them to think anything happened to me. They might call my dad.”

Eddie stops in his tracks. He lets out a hard sigh and promptly turns around, stepping over one of the guys he tossed in the alley. He opens the gate again and steps inside, placing you down on the ground where you stand on your feet. He stays directly next to you, his eyes still locked on the bodies that lay limo.

“Tell me it’s okay,” he says suddenly.

“What?” You ask, unsure of what he’s trying to say.

He looks at you, grabbing your shoulders and shaking you slightly. His eyes are filled with rage and his hands are trembleing. 

“Tell. Me. You’re. Okay.” He punctuates every word.

“Yes, yeah, I’m fine,” you stutter out, hardly able to stand his harsh gaze. “Once again, you’re my hero.”

Eddie pauses for a moment, looking at you with an unreadable expression. Then, he starts to push you backwards, gently until you’re back is up against the side of the wall.

“No,” he says lowly, barely loud enough for you to hear. “I’m not the hero. I’m never going to be the hero.”

He looks at you, eyes red with hunger.

“Maybe I’m the bad guy.”

“No, you’re not the bad guy,” you say looking at him. Your eyes bounce between his eyes and his lips. He’s just close enough that you could just…

You lean forward, and your lips meet. You gasp, finding them to be cold as ice when they touch. But they don’t stay that way long, warming up as he starts to kiss you back.

Your tongues dance with one another, lips smacking as you try to pull him in closer. He’s hard to move, but he eventually gives in, his hands dropping to land on your hips, roughly pinning you against the wall.

“There you are!”

Tammy’s southern drawl calls out your name and you turn your head for a moment to see her. But, when you look back to Eddie, you find that he’s gone.

“Are you going into work? I thought you weren’t due until later?”

Your father comes out of his bedroom fully dressed in his work uniform, grabbing his hat and placing it on top of his head.

“There was an incident.”

“What happened?” You clicked the remote until the volume of the TV was low enough you could hear better. Your dad grabbed his coat and threw it on before snatching his keys from the bowl next to the door.

“Two hikers were found dead out on the Loch Nora side of the woods. I don’t want you going out with Steve again for a while until we figure out what happened. Understand?” He wagged a finger at you. You normally would joke with him to ease his nerves, but he seemed more serious than usual so you just gave him a nod.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good,” he says before opening the front door. “I don’t know when I’ll be home, so don’t wait up for me for dinner.”

And with that, he left, hastily closing the door behind him. You heard his cruiser peel out of the dirt covered drive way, leaving you alone with your thoughts. Remembering what almost happened to you the other night at the club, it made you wonder what could have happened to you that night if Eddie hadn’t come to save you. 

But, he didn’t want to be called the hero. What did he mean when he said he might be the bad guy? He surely didn’t stick around long enough for you to find out. You’d been thinking about how quickly he was able to get away from you when the girls showed up. How cold his skin was. How hard his body was to move. It seemed like every interaction with him left you with even more questions about him that you needed to get to the bottom of. But how?

The endless thoughts about Eddie ended up being too much for you to handle, so you decided for a change in scenery to get your mind off of him. You found yourself not an hour later in the familiar confines of your work, only this time enjoying the peace that came with the overhead jazz music and subtle workings of Heather and Barb at the Starbucks counter. It’s where you chose to sit, the overwhelming coffee smell comforting to you while you read.

Besides Bob asking you if you could pick up some extra hours, you were totally in your own world. That is until the sudden commotion outside caught your attention. The scene before you made your stomach sink.

It was a whole group of familiar faces looking like they were trying to hold Steve back from entering the establishment. You didn’t like the look in his eyes. It was crazed, like he was pissed about something. Butterflies invaded your stomach at the thought that he was here to look for you and you could have avoided him if you had just decided to stay home on your day off. But even with their group effort, Steve was able to break away from them, pushing the doors open and rushing inside.

You braced yourself as he scanned the store, wishing that you could turn invisible. But, as much as you willed against it, Steve’s eyes still landed on yours. You expected him to start yelling, come storming your way and making a whole scene. But instead the crazed expression left him. You watched as he visibly relaxed, a hand coming to his chest. He did, however, make a beeline toward you.

“You’re okay,” he says, relief in his voice as he stopped just in front of where you sat. 

You look at him confused. “Yeah, of course I’m fine. Are you okay? You looked pretty upset out there.”

“Oh yeah, that,” he said pointing over his shoulder, moving around erratically. “I just…I heard about what happened in the woods and was worried about you.”

“Me? Why?”

“Just, well, ya know, you…you seem like the nature type. Thought maybe you had gone out in the woods and ran into something or…someone.”

You look at Steve as if he had two heads. He was seriously that worked up over you? 

“I do like nature, but I wouldn’t call myself a hiker,” you say with a shrug.

“Noted,” Steve says with a nod. There’s an awkward moment between you where you don’t know what to say. You hadn’t talked to him much since that night when you punched Tommy, and it made for a sour air between you.

“So, you’re not working today?” He finally asks, nodding to your book.

“Nope, I’m off today.”

“So I almost missed you.”

“Almost,” you say, lips tight with a forced smile.

“Why are you here on your day off?”

You placed a bookmark in your book and closed it. “My dad told me about the hikers, too, and it just got me thinking. Didn’t want to be alone out there by myself.

Steve pulls out the chair opposite of you and sits down. 

“Nothing’s going to happen to you. I won’t let that happen.” You’re taken aback by his declaration. How the hell would he keep you safe from the monsters in the woods?

“Thanks,” you say, shifting in your seat. You didn’t notice it before, but his scent was slowly wafting into your nostrils, filling you with a sense of calming. 

“Don’t mention it. So why did you pick here to go to? You could have texted me and I would have gladly come and picked you up.” His mention of texting made you flinch.

“I wanted to read,” you said picking up the book and shaking it for effect.

“Oh, sorry, am I bothering you?”

“No, no, it’s fine. It’s just--it made sense to come to a book store to read, you know? Plus, I haven’t paid for this yet so I can’t leave with it.”

Steve nods, his head, suddenly very curious by the book. He grabs it and flips it around, looking at the cover.

“A Court of Thorns and Roses, huh? What’s it about?”

You blush, “It’s a romance, not something you’d be interested in, Harrington.”

“Hey, I’m not one to knock it before I try it.”

“You say that but you won’t give Eddie a chance?”

You knew you got him there with the way his head dropped dramatically. He let out a deep sigh before looking back up at you. He had a grin plastered on his face that made you feel a certain type of way.

“You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?” He says, placing the book back down on the table and sliding it your way.

“I just don’t understand it. Between the two of you being so vague, it feels like I’m being left out of something.”

Steve takes your hand in his, the sudden warmth of his touch sending electricity through you. You almost jerk your hand away, but Steve’s grip keeps you in place. “You’ll know soon enough.” His tone has you wanting to question him, but you’re at the point where you know he won’t divulge anything else, so you just keep it at that to keep the peace.

“If you say so,” you say with a sigh, admitting defeat. He chuckles, letting his thumb rub circles into the back of your hand.

“Hey, um, I know you probably have work or whatever, but I was wondering if maybe you had some free time this week? There’s a really nice place in town that I think you would like and--”

“Steve,” you cut him off, pulling your hand away from his. “I don’t know.”

“Come on, it doesn’t have to be anything serious. At least give me a chance to make up the other night to you. It’ll just be you and me, nobody else.”

You ponder on it for a moment. Maybe you’d been unfair after what happened the other night at Loch Nora. It was your own fault that you decided to punch Tommy in the face, so why would you take that out of Steve. He’s a nice guy who obviously has some care for you or else he wouldn’t have taken the time out of his day to check on you.

“Okay, I’ll go,” you finally say. Steve’s face lights up.

“Really, that’s great,” he says with a chuckle. He stands up from his seat and puts his hands on his hips. “Does Friday at 7 work for you then?”

“Yep, I’m off at 4 so that should be enough time for me to get ready.”

“Perfect, I’ll pick you up at 7.”

Another day, another dollar. The store has been unusually quiet all day, besides the ever constant line at the Starbucks that keeps Heather and Barb on their toes. The doors chimes weren’t even on your radar at this point, most of the customers heading straight for the coffee shop. But your lack of customers had you doing mostly mundane tasks for the majority of the day. It’s almost like the universe wanted you to be bored out of your mind today.

“Hi.”

The sudden voice had you dropping the books you were arranging on the table for the new best sellers list for the month. You quickly turn to see two people, a guy and a girl, standing behind you.

“I’m so sorry,” the girl says, bending over to pick up the books you dropped.

“Oh, no you’re fine,” you say as you also bend over.

Quickly, you grab the books and pile them in your arm. As you reach out for one, your hand accidentally lands on top of the girl’s hand. The feeling of cold almost shocks you, and you retract your hand quickly. The girl looks at you for a moment, looking as if she was a deer caught in headlights. 

“Sorry,” you say, holding your hand where it touched.

“I-It’s okay,” she stutters out, handing you the book. You take it from her and add it to your pile.

Clearing your throat, you put on your best customer service face and ask her if she needed help finding anything.

“Yes!” She said clapping her hands together. “I’m looking for books on the occult. Can you help me?

“Sure,” you say, giving her a look over. She couldn’t be more than 16 or 17, with a childish air about her, but here she was asking you about books on the occult.

“They’re this way, in the religious section.” You motion for the two to follow you as you lead them to the back corner section of the store. They follow you, the girl practically skipping all the way across the store. The guy with her seems uninterested in anything going on, sauntering behind her.

“Here they are,” you gesture to the many books on the occult that sit on the shelves. “Looking for anything in particular?”

“Just for something I haven’t read before,” she states simply, eyes scanning the spines of the books in front of her. She goes through them quickly, and you’re astounded that she seems to have supposedly read every book she’s looked over. Standing on her tip toes, she looks over the top shelf, stopping with and “aha” at one of them. You watch as her hand reaches for the book. But for a split moment, it almost looks like the book moved itself, gliding from its spot and into her hand.

“This is one I haven’t seen before.”

“Is it one you want?” The boy asks with a monotone lit.

She looks over the back of the book, eyes quickly moving as she reads the excerpt. After a beat, she nods and brings the book to her chest. The boy sighs, motioning towards the front of the store.

“Do you want to look at the dice?” The girl asks, her head tilting with the question.

“Do you have dice here?” He asks you, almost sounding annoyed.

“We do, over in the board games section. That’s up by the front of the store. Would you like me to show you?”

“No, we’ll find them,” he says, turning to walk away.

“Thank you,” the girl says before following behind her companion.

While the two of them inspect the dice, you walk across the store to get behind the counter when they’re ready. You’re almost there when a frantic wave of the hands catches your attention.

“What’s up?” You say as you approach the coffee counter. Heather and Barb are looking at you with eyes as big as saucers.

“Do you know who that is?” Heather whisper yells, nodding to the other two people in the store. You look back at them for a moment, not really recognizing their faces.

“No. Should I?”

“That’s El and Mike.” The tone of Heather’s voice makes you feel like you should know who they are, but you haven’t got the foggiest idea.

“Okay?” 

“Okay?! That’s your man Eddie’s siblings.”

Now your interest is piqued. You know they’re not blood related from what Heather and Barb have said before, but you can’t help but think about the girl’s icy touch and how much it reminded you of Eddie’s. What’s the likelihood of the both of them having such cold skin?

As you turn to look at them again, you notice that they’re making their way towards the counter. You make a motion to Heather and Barb, putting a pin in the conversation for later.

“Find what you were looking for?” You ask, rounding the counter.

“Yes,” the El says, placing her book on the counter. Mike sets a thing of dice down on the counter wordlessly.

“Great, glad I could help,” you say scanning their items.

There’s a bit of back and forth in your mind about bringing Eddie up to them. He’s probably never talked about you so what if they think it’s weird for you to bring him up? But you could possibly get more information about him from them since they live with him. But why do you need to know so bad? Is it because you haven’t been able to get that kiss out of your head since that night at the club? Were you that desperate to talk to him that you’d be willing to bother his own family?

“So, you guys are Eddie’s siblings, right?”

The two of them a bit taken aback by your question. Mike eventually rolls his eyes, but El seems to light up, nodding her head with delight.

“Yes, we are. You know him?” She asks giddily.

“Yeah, I’ve seen him a few times. Seems like a good guy. Haven’t seen him for a while and was just wondering how he was doing.” You say as nonchalant as possible.

“He is well! We took a trip out of town to see family so that is why he has not been around much. We actually just got back in town this morning.”

“Oh, nice. Where did you go if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Alaska,” she says after a beat, which made you slightly suspicious.

“Wow, that’s really far, the plane ride must take forever,” you say, placing their items in a bag. “That’ll be $14.56.”

Mike reaches into his back pocket and grabs his wallet, pulling out a $20 bill and handing it to you. “It’s really not that bad.” El says, bouncing on her tippy toes as she watches you get the change out. “Should I tell Eddie that you asked about him? Maybe he’ll stop by and see you.” She leans in and gives you a look that you can’t quite read.

“That’s okay, you don’t have to. Don’t want him to think I was worried about him or something.” You laugh, trying to make it seem like not a big deal.

“If you say so,” she says with a shrug.

You hand mike the change and present the bag to them, which El takes with a giggle. She tells you bye, saying your name as she does. It almost throws you off until you remember you have a name tag on. You tell her a quick bye and the two of them on on their way. 

As the door shuts behind them, you can’t help but indulge the two pairs of eyes that you know have been boring holes into you since the beginning of your interaction. Walking over to them, you see Heather and Barb’s looks of anticipation.

“Well, were they weird or what?” Heather asks, leaning over the counter.

“Heather!” Barb says, smacking her side with the towel.

“What! I told you their whole family has a screw loose!”

“They were definitely…odd, for lack of a better term.”

“What did they come in for?” Heather asks, hungry for details.

“Well,” you start, “El wanted a book on the occult and Mike bought a set of dice. I wouldn’t say it’s too weird other than she seems awfully young to want a book like that. “

“Oh, maybe she’s into witchcraft,” Heather says, wiggling her fingers theatrically. 

“Maybe she reads cards,” Barb says, tapping Heather with her hand, “You’ve always wanted to go to a fortune teller.”

“Oh my god, you are so right. Maybe I’ll ask next time they come in.” Heather laughs and Barb joins her.

“You guys are so funny,” you say, rolling your eyes at their antics.

“Did they say anything else?”

“Not really,” you say, not wanting to tell them about the family in Alaska in case that was too personal. “I asked about Eddie, but they said they were out of town which is why he hasn’t been in.”

“I hear they do that a lot,” Barb says.

“Do what? Leave?”

She nods, “Yeah they’re always going out of town for trips or to go hiking or something.”

Your mind immediately went back to those hikers who died and you got a sinking feeling in your stomach. What if they had decided to go for a hike with whatever is out there and had gotten hurt?

“Especially if there’s a break in the weather. Apparently even Dr.Brenner will even take time off and go.”

“Well, I guess that squashes my idea that they’re vampires,” Heather says with a huff. 

The lowly sound of the TV left a staticy feeling throughout the small cabin. You were zoning out on the couch as reruns played in the background of your endless thoughts. It had been hard to think of anything else besides Eddie and his siblings since your interaction with them that morning, your mind swirling trying to come up with a rational conclusion to the weird behavior.

Grabbing your phone, you open up the search engine and start to look things up. “Cold touch” as you thought about your interactions with Eddie and El. “Super human strength” wen you thought about the way Eddie tossed you at skull rock, or the way he was able to throw those guys around at the club. “Red eyes,” when you thought about how Eddie’s eyes were almost completely red under the street lights that night. 

None of your searches brought up much of anything on their own. You sighed, bringing your phone to your forehead as if it would be able to tell you the answer. But, after a moment, you decided to try searching all the things at once instead of separate. You typed in everything you could think of and hit search, waiting for the results to generate.

And what came up made your skin crawl.

“Real Life Vampires.”

“The Time I Met A Real Life Vampire.”

“Vampires: Do They Walk Amongst Us?”

The results were endless, filled with people’s experiences with what they thought were vampires. None of the sites seemed legit, but you still read through a few of them just to see if what the people said was close to what you had experienced.

And they were.

Your mind was reeling at the revelation. It was all starting to make sense. The lack of eating, the fashion sense, the cold touches, the way he seemed to just appear and disappear. It was all coming together. There was no other explanation that you read that made more sense than this.

A text appearing at the top of your screen took you out of your head for a moment. It was from a number you didn’t recognize. You opened it up immediately and read it.

Unknown: We need to talk.

You: who is this?

A few minutes pass before you get a response back. The name on the screen has your heart skipping a beat.

Unknown: Eddie.

Unknown: Meet me tomorrow so we can talk.

Your hands shook as you texted him back.

You: Ok I’m off at 4. Where should we meet?

A minute passes by. You take the time to add his name in your phone, fighting off the temptation to put a bat emoji next to it.

Eddie: I’ll pick you up.

What should you say? With everything you’d just uncovered, do you really think it’s safe to be alone with him in his car? He wouldn’t be so bold to pick you up at work just to kill you…would he?

You: Ok.

You: See you then.

thank you for reading!

[eilaafterhours]

A Man in Uniform [Caleb]

Content: Smut, Dom/Sub Undertones, Thigh Riding, Glove Kink, Finger Sucking, Finger Fucking, Misuse of Evols, Rough Sex, Degradation, AFAB Reader, POV Second Person, Reader-Insert

Pronouns: None (AFAB)

Note: I see Caleb within the childhood friend trope. Anything outside of that makes me uncomfortable, so I won't be engaging with it in any sort of way.

Reblogs: Let me know that you enjoy my work and want to see more, so don’t forget to like and reblog (and comment in the tags. I love seeing people’s rambles in the tags)!

Remember:I’ll block you if I catch your ageless or under age (not 18+) ass in my activity :)

This work’s concepts, plot and original characters are my own which means I do not allow any sort of creative theft nor do I allow my work to be entered into any sort of A.I. bots. Thank you for respecting my space and boundaries.

“Mmm—fuck!”

You don’t know how you got here, but you don’t really care either. It’s not like knowing would help soothe the fierce burn in the pit of your stomach. Hell, grinding your bare pussy on his white pants wasn’t helping all that much, besides leaving a nice, big mark of yourself on him. But! It was better than just rubbing your thighs together while he sat across from you staring like he wanted to devour you.

What an ass. All that starting, and yet he’s making you do all the work.

“Caleb—” His hand swiftly makes contact with your bare ass. “Anh—Colonel!”

Oh well, you’re a sucker for certain men in uniform, so you’ll let this go for now. You’ll get back at him later. For now, you make the decision to put him to work. Even if he still makes you do all the work, you’d at least get what you want. 

Slowing your moments on his thigh a bit, you move to grab his gloved hand that was resting on the back of the couch. Caleb eyes were glazed with intrigue as you brought his fingers into the warmth of your waiting mouth. You look at him through your lashes, as you lick and suck to coat the leather. Surely, he would get the hint.

He smirks, yanking his fingers from your mouth. He uses his evol to shove you into the couch. Once he lets up, you throw your ass up in the air, presenting it to him. 

“You’re supposed to be a Special Ops hunter, and yet you can’t send a subtle hint to save your life.” He sighs as he strikes your ass again. “Fine, I’ll comply.” 

Caleb wastes no time in shoving two fingers into your dripping cunt, setting a brutal pace. Your eyes rolled back, and your keens come out as wet and broken as the gushing sounds from your pussy.

He laughs sardonically. “Seems like that innocent act was hiding the real slut underneath.”

You grit your teeth, whipping your head around to face him. 

“Do not call me that.” 

“Why not? That’s what you are. You jumped me, got yourself off on my thigh, and begged me to shove my gloved fingers in your cunt without even using your words.” He chuckles, “If that isn’t a slut then you’ve evolved into something new.” He joins you on the couch and traps your body underneath his, making sure your thigh can feel the heavy heat of his own arousal. “So, what would you like me to call you instead?”

You smile. 

“How about you fuck me, and figure it out on your own?”

Caleb may be a shadow of a person you used to know, but you were certain that there were still parts of him you could reach.

You hear the tell-tale jingle of a belt buckle. 

He was still as competitive and gullible as ever.

Hook, line and sinker.

I HAVE NEVER…hold on, okay we’re good—WRITTEN DEGRADATION (and I don’t like it either) AND YET HERE COMES CALEB BEING FUCKING MEAN

LIKE THIS MAN IS OPENING DOORS AND FORGING PATHWAYS AND I NEED HIM TO SLOW THE FUCK DOWN

Masterlist | Bluesky

[jokeroutsubs]

📝ENG Translation: Elle Men Special: A Fashion Odyssey with Kris Guštin

Article written by Ajda Gregorc, published in the November/December 2024 ELLE Slovenia Magazine. Print and digital versions of the magazine are available for purchase.

Scans and English translation by @kurooscoffee, review by @weolucbasu and a member of JokerOutSubs, proofread by IG GBoleyn123.

Full article translation, scans, and Spotify link are under the cut 👇

🎧 Article available in audio form on Spotify.

Elle Men Special: A Fashion Odyssey with Kris Guštin

With Kris Guštin, the music author and guitarist of Joker Out, we escaped to another side of music, and with that, to his other passion. We talked about style and everything connected to it. There will also be no shortage of this in the band's third album, titled 'Souvenir Pop', which is released on the 15th of November—one week after the issue of Elle you’re holding now. How perfectly synchronised we are!

PHOTOS URŠA PREMIK, STYLING ALENKA BIRK

At Ljubljana’s Moderna Café, on a fresh but lovely autumn Tuesday, when everyone’s still at work or in school, he arrives in a dark green jacket with a checkered pattern, awesome trousers, and her necklace. This time, the menu is not serving music and life, but matcha and "all things fashion." I’m in a regular trench coat and a white T-shirt, but luckily he doesn’t judge people by their style—instead, the style might be what piques his interest to converse, if it's good, of course. Besides, he's the one being interviewed. So, let’s begin! AJDA GREGORC

Interviewer: When did you first discover your personal style or the field of fashion? Was it in childhood or a bit later?

Kris: I roughly divide my life into two periods: before I first held a guitar, and after. When I really got into playing and ventured into music, my world opened up in all areas. Discovering fashion definitely falls into this second period, so the post-high school era. To be completely honest, my style in high school wasn’t something I’m particularly proud of today. (laughs) My girlfriend and I still have a photo of me wearing cargo pants and a black sweater, which is a proof she truly loves me, since that look was far from the best choice. (laughs)

When did it evolve from just a aesthetic impression to self-expression?

My first contact with fashion as a form of art or expression was during our band's first music video or fashion shoot, when I realised that this is also something you need to consider as a musician. At first, it seemed to me like a fairly peripheral element, but as our career developed and we met new people who gave us more insight into this, I began to understand its significance, what I could personally gain from it, and what we as a band could gain. This quickly developed into standard practice. I was increasingly exposed to fashion; we had more and more costume rehearsals and stylings, and two years ago, we even got our first proper stylist. And then I really committed to it—at around nineteen or twenty. Before that, my philosophy was always to "just wear whatever I first find in the closet," but then I shifted to "I'll wear things that would make me stand out from others". But this process was a long one.

So, your style development with the band inspired your personal growth too? I’ve always wondered if a young person is compelled to mature in every area when so many 'big things' happen all at once, as they did for you.

Maybe you do "grow old" in terms of personality sooner. Yes, at first I wanted, and still want, to primarily express the difference or uniqueness that I feel inside myself through music, but then I discovered that this goes very much hand in hand with fashion, so I started looking for my expression there as well. Today, it's almost an equally important part of my day.

Which fashion ideas or directions attract you? You’ve probably encountered a lot of inspiration during your travels on tour, right?

Definitely, but speaking purely origin-wise, I think I’m just like any other rock musician—we draw from the rock aesthetic of the ’60s and ’70s, which was also very "in" when my fashion awareness was born. Back then, around 2016 to 2018, here were a lot of flamboyant shirts on the music scene, with a slight hippie influence, which was the starting point. Only later did I start getting interested in slightly more modern clothes. When I was younger, I found myself in street fashion, that sort of Eminem-esque, hip-hop vibe, so very baggy clothes, which I then began to reject when I made the shift toward the ’60s and a slightly psychedelic aesthetic. It makes perfect sense, as humans tend to jump between extremes. When I had worked through that style, I started discovering the aesthetics of the ’80s and late ’90s, which was also reflected in music at the time. The best example that comes to mind is Dua Lipa’s previous album, which was in the style of the “new ’80s,” and the fashion matched that as well. Today, the early 2000s style has come back, but I haven’t fully decided whether I like it or not. As a musician, I was, of course, initially inspired by other music groups. Arctic Monkeys were a big inspiration for us both musically and visually, as was the whole British rock scene, including bands like The Kooks and Oasis. That entire aesthetic has always been strongly present with us. I doubt there’s a single inspiration board at our shoots that doesn’t include a photo of one of those bands or, for instance, the Beatles. And that aesthetic has always been close to my heart, too.

Rockers have always been associated with more masculine fashion elements, while in recent years, many male musicians have been experimenting with more feminine style elements (for example, Harry Styles and Lenny Kravitz). David Bowie was already the one who back then started to blur these fashion boundaries. You, too, wear such pieces and dare to stand out with them.

It happened quite naturally, as the stylists we worked with always chose slightly more “unmanly” clothing for me. This doesn’t necessarily mean women’s clothing, but rather somewhat more androgynous pieces, which I quickly embraced. I found them interesting and appealing because there’s a lot of fresh expression in that style that I don’t find in traditional men’s clothing, though I don’t want to overdo it. I also started experimenting with them personally, choosing many more varied colours. For a while, I was very fond of pink, and lately, I’ve been playing around with orange. On the cover of the album 'Demoni', I wore an orange-pink sweater.

Are we, as an audience here, already mature enough for a musician to present his feminine side through fashion? Does that require courage?

It does, there will always be people who won’t understand you. But for me, when it comes to the stage or a shoot, I’ll wear anything, and if I feel good in it, I don’t worry about what someone thinks. When I walk around "in civilian clothes," however, especially in Ljubljana, I am still aware if I’m dressed somewhat "untraditionally." There’s a certain boundary that I still need to break within myself. On stage, it’s easier because it’s not necessarily a hundred percent my expression; I’m playing a certain character, but personally, sometimes I do need some courage to show up in a particular style. However, the awareness of being different is stronger in Ljubljana than in other parts of the Western world. For example, I never felt that way in London, but still, our capital isn’t the worst when it comes to this.

Speaking of influences, what about other artistic or cultural movements?

I love art deco, the aesthetics of the '20s and '30s, though it doesn’t influence my daily life. In terms of photography, Damon Baker’s black-and-white style is beautiful. The vintage camera aesthetic has recently won me over, which will also be reflected in our band. Musically, over the past year, I’ve been listening to old Italian chansons and older French music, chansons as well, so I’m clearly feeling very retro this year. (smile)

Will the third album visually stand out from the previous ones then?

Yes, it will be very different. In the last two, we used a lot of colours, but there won’t be as many in this one.

Style can be an excellent tool for expressing an artist's authenticity, but with increasing success, the artist can also become its slave; the line is thin. Do you ever feel the pressure of having to express your fashion style in your private life as well?

No, I’ve never felt like my style owns me; it’s always been the opposite. I’ve always felt like I want more, like I want to dress even better than the day before, especially when it comes to my music career. Perhaps style only hangs over my head a bit when I have no inspiration and would rather wear sweatpants on an ordinary, relaxed day. There’s nothing wrong with that, of course, but then I do think about what would happen if I ended up somewhere in the middle of the city dressed like that.

It seems that Joker Out has developed a distinct style despite outside influences.

Yes, today we are already very complete in our style. Others have definitely had an influence on us, and I think it’s great that each of them tried to express themselves through us – it was interesting to experience how Joker Out was seen by Ponorelli, and how Andraž Drobnič or Karlo Kirri did. Of course, there is a difference in this, but it also aligns with the development of our music and aesthetics, so all these influences are very welcome.

How much of your personal fashion identity is therefore reflected in Joker Out?

Maybe, as someone who is not an external observer, I can't answer that, but I can say that I was always one of the first to give feedback to the stylist when we were creating our outfits, approving moodboards, and so on. So, I have definitely shaped our style in a direction that suits me. On certain "blind stylings," when we just dressed up, I quickly threw something on myself and then helped look for pieces for the other band members.

What about this photoshoot, where Alenka Birk took over the styling? Did you let her take the lead with her tactics, or did you collaborate on fashion choices? How did the communication go?

I didn’t know Alenka, who, by the way, is an excellent stylist, before. She was recommended by Urša (the photographer, ed.). Later, she confided in me that she had also worked with my father. Alenka focuses on elegant men's fashion, which is a departure from this more fluid fashion; and this suited me because I had never really been photographed in a men's suit, jacket, and tie. I wanted to try something new. I hadn’t seen the outfits before the day of the photoshoot when we met in her small studio in the morning. There were nine of them in total, and we only swapped out a piece or two in at most three of the looks.

This is more of an exception than a rule in fashion photoshoots. Does that mean you felt good in them?

Yes. In some more so, obviously, but in others, you have to trust the people you're working with. When I first look in the mirror, I always keep in mind that if something isn't optimal, it doesn't mean it won’t work well on camera. Even if the pants are too short or creased, it's still worth photographing them, because the photo can be edited later, whereas on stage, it's a different story, and everything has to already be perfect in the mirror. Working with Alenka was very simple; we clicked really well, and I will definitely work with her again.

How linked are your confidence and the way you feel on stage with your styling?

Very connected. As a musician, you want to enjoy yourself as much as possible on stage, and the people who come to listen to you and pay for the ticket deserve to see you at your best, which means you have to feel good in every aspect.

You recently attended Ljubljana Fashion Week. Which of the local fashion designers do you like to follow?

As far as the Slovenian fashion scene is concerned, I’m still quite the beginner, so I only knew the designers we had worked with. This was my first time visiting the Fashion Week.

Which shows did you watch?

On the first day, all of them. I didn’t like everything, but what stuck in my mind was Sarivalenci¹ with their somewhat "country club", Lana Del Rey vibe, and golf moment. I also really enjoyed the Belgrade Fashion Week, as there was an obvious Balkan touch, which I would love to see more of in Slovenia.

¹Sarivalenci is a Slovene high fashion brand created by fashion designer Sari Valenci.

You are a fan of vintage clothes and second-hand shops. What do these pieces have for you that new ones don't?

Honestly, I don’t know if there’s an objective explanation why. I started getting into it because it was popular, and at the same time, it gives you the feeling of getting a more unique piece. At the same time, you're shopping sustainably and not contributing to the production of unnecessary new textiles on Earth, which is great, but I would be lying if I said that’s my main motivation. What I like the most is the experience of "flipping" through clothes, where each piece is different, like a treasure hunt, compared to regular stores where you "flip" through the same clothes in different sizes.

Did your mum, who comes from the Netherlands where people have been aware of this for many years, introduce you to this concept?

I wouldn’t say we talked much about it at home, but I literally lived it. This is probably true for Slovenians in general – almost all the clothes I had as a child were from older peers, or I would take something from my dad, too. When I was done with wearing the clothes, my brother would wear them too. Every piece of clothing that came into our house was passed around, which is a great practice, and it’s still like that today. My sister "stole" half of my sweaters, my mum sometimes takes something too, Maks borrows jackets from my dad, which I’ve also done myself. It's like we all share one big closet! (laughs)

So you have influenced each other’s style in your family, or rather, you still do so? Who has otherwise had the most influence on your style in the past, and who does today?

I don’t remember ever looking at my parents as role models in this regard, as I didn’t really think about it back then, but they definitely influenced me, at least subconsciously. When I see how my mom dresses today, I see parallels with my own style, so she probably did influence me, perhaps more than my dad. As for street style, which I mentioned at the beginning, it might have been inherited from my uncle, my aunt’s husband from the Netherlands, who wore loose sweaters and listened to hip hop. My mum also had an uncle from the Indonesian side of the family, whom I never met, but he was very eccentric. Some of his clothes made their way to us over the years, and when I looked at these pieces in the closet, I was fascinated by how they reflected his personality. Asian fashion became a bit closer to me because of this, and I might even explore it someday.

The heart necklace you wear all the time, even today, is from your girlfriend. Do you ever dress your girlfriend or does she dress you?

My girlfriend is very fashion-oriented and has played a big role in my fashion development. She has always encouraged me when I tried new clothes that, at the time, seemed more radical to me. In this way, she partially shaped me. We also really enjoy shopping together. She dresses me more often than I dress her, which means I ask her for opinion. There have also been times when we’ve dressed the same when it comes to basic pieces; we’ve never really styled each other, but there will probably be time for that in the future.

Where do you like to go for vintage pieces in Ljubljana? Did you find any gems while on tour across Europe?

Textile House Vintage Shop is, in my opinion, by far the best in Ljubljana. The next one is Humana on Stritarjeva street, where I find something every now and then. Abroad, we’ve visited many vintage shops in Dublin, Paris, and London. In the latter, I always go to Brick Lane, which is a street with vintage shops in the east side of central London, where the more hipster area starts. The downside is that it quickly becomes quite an expensive experience.

What kind of information can you deduce about a person based on what they’re wearing? Who, in your opinion, is truly well-dressed?

A person’s style is never a reason not to engage in conversation with them, but it is a very strong stimulator of my interest in that person. If I think someone is really well-dressed, I automatically assume they might think similarly to me and be interested in the same artistic, musical, or visual directions, so I’m more eager to talk to them. However, I’ve often met people who didn’t seem interestingly dressed, and later realised they were amazing people, even if they dressed completely casually.

Your audience expresses itself very differently in terms of fashion, as your parents also mentioned in a recent interview for Elle. How do you as a band perceive this?

Yes, what they meant was that it is no longer the case that you have to be "appropriately" dressed for a rock concert. When we observe the audience from the stage, I would say that the most typical thing for our time is that we are no longer genre-bound. Not just musically, but also in terms of fashion. 30 or 40 years ago, you would see people at a rock concert in leather jackets, black shoes, and jeans, and that was it. Today, you have flamboyant outfits with blue and green hair in one corner, gothic style in another, and of course, people in simple t-shirts and pants somewhere in the middle. And no one feels like they don’t belong; everyone sings our songs, and that’s really nice.

- ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~

❗Please do not repost without credit, and if you quote, please link back to this post!

[fandombandomfics]

What It Cost (Salesman x female!reader)

Part 2 to The man with the briefcase

Summary: it's been days since you won your squid games. You try to go back to normal but can you? That's when the man with the briefcase shows up in your life again.

Warnings: mention of blood. angst. reader questioning everything. curse word. slight PTSD.

After I called that number, my life changed….don’t know if it's for the better or worse yet. Those games…like what the hell? There were 456 people that entered those games...only I came out alive. I came home a few days ago, 45.6 billion won is a lot of money for one person. I sent the money to whom I owed money too. So how am I gonna spend this remaining 45.1 billion?? Everytime I look at that money, I can’t help but think of the people who died in order for me to get it. It can fuck with someone’s head and it’s fucking with mine. 

“Y/N just move on with your life…,” I say to myself as I walk to one of the local cafes. When I walk in, the aroma of coffee and fresh baked goods hits my nose. I close my eyes and breathe in the scent before going to the counter. Ordering my tea and scone, I sit at a table and scroll on my phone. Sipping my tea, my mind drifts back to those games. When I close my eyes, I can still smell the blood and the popping noise of the gun shots. I hear someone clear their throat, probably to get my attention. Opening my eyes, the recruiter is standing in front of me, looking perfect as ever. Y/N no 

“Told you that I would find you beautiful,” He says, giving me the same smile he gave me weeks ago. His eyes still seem cold as ever, but there is something else there that I cannot quite place. 

“Congratulations stalker,” I say, groaning at the fact that he found me but also pissed that it took him this long. Wait, why am I pissed about that? He frowns and sits across from me, putting his chin in his hands. I look at him, wondering what he could be possibly staring at. 

“You seem…different.” He says 

“You would be too if you participated in those games,” I say, my tone is mixed with annoyance and a side of spite. He smiles and I just want to punch that pretty little smile of his. 

“What will you do with this new found wealth?” He asks, with a slight smirk. 

“It’s blood money you prick,” I say through gritted teeth, not caring if people heard me. 

“But still your money. You made it out of the dumpster victoriously,” He says, putting his hand over mine. I quickly take it away from him and shift in my seat. He pouts and leans back in his own seat. 

“455 people died in order for me to get that money. Sorry if I’m not jumping up and down, thanking the man who gave me the card," I start, looking directly at him. The look that he's giving me, one of sympathy makes me want to punch him even more. He brought me to the games, directly or not he's still responsible for my inner turmoil now.

"Thanking the men who run the games, thanking the wealthy white men who love to place bets on people who are in debt,” I say, not realizing tears are falling down my cheeks. My breathing becomes heavy as I grip the table trying to ground myself. 

“You let it haunt you,” He says, stating the obvious. 

“You would too if you lived out those games. Yes I paid off my debt but at what cost? My sanity?” I say, my breathing becoming even again and wiping the dampness from my cheeks. 

“You know you can become so much more than this,” He says and I laugh at him. 

“And do what? I’m not entirely sane anymore after those games.” I say 

“Take the money and go somewhere,” He says and I shake my head. 

“You wanna know something messed up?” I ask and he leans in towards me more intrigued. 

“I’ve thought about you the entire time I was there,” I say, I look at him and he has no reaction to what I’m saying. Of course he has no reaction, he sends countless people to those games every year. Why would I be so lucky or special to grab his attention? Then again, he did say he would come find me after the games...maybe something is there?

“Thought you were bluffing when you said you would come find me and yet here you are,” I continued.  He leans back into his chair and studies me for a moment before speaking.

“You shouldn’t be thinking about me, I’m a dangerous man Y/N,” He says, sounding like he was trying to convince himself more than me. I smirk and lean back in my chair. Old me would be cowering in my seat but this new me. Who has seen the worst of humanity the past, accepts it.

“Have a knack for dangerous men…these past few days I was surrounded by them in those games,” I say, cooly.

“And yet you outsmarted all of them, made it out alive,” He says

“But at what cost?” I ask, not myself more than him. 

“Everything,” He says, looking into my eyes. I look into his eyes and finally feel understood.  

“Those games took everything from me, can never go back to my old self ever again,” I say 

“Maybe that’s not a bad thing,” He says 

And maybe he’s right. maybe it’s not a bad thing at all 

[rowarn]

I’m so happy i found your blog ;___; your soft simon/konig are literally a breath of fresh air like the other anon said😍💕 you write them so well and so tender and caring, they’re literally dream men tbh😮‍💨💕 what are yiur thoughts on how they’d be w a reader whose inexperienced?? both when it comes to intimacy and love in general (im thinking of a feral and skittish cat 🐈‍⬛ who mistrusts every approach and touch and backs away 😭) i always read abiut these men when they’re w a reader who is very sure of her self/sexuality and confidently engages w them (and don’t get me wrong i love reading it regardless!) but what abour when reader has no clue how to act/what to do and is kinda ashamed about it bc she doesn’t want to let her partner down bc she still possesses the v card🥴

(im totally not projecting 😭🙊 btw it’s totally fine if you don’t want to answer this!! wouldn’t want to overwhelm or cross any limits!)

HI MY LOVE IM GLAD UR ENJOYING MY STUFF!!!

hmmm i think both simon and könig wouldn't actually rlly say anything about sex unless you brought it up.

simons very perceptive, he can tell that you're a little shy and skittish about anything too intimate so he keeps his touches pg and simply follows your lead. he lets you guide the pace and he won't bring up getting his dick wet unless you do first.

if he catches on that you may actually want to properly discuss it (even if u don't flat out say it, again he can tell if somethings on your mind <3) then he'll be SO patient and soft with you as he listens. if you're embarrassed or scared, he'll do his best to reassure you that he's not some bumbling idiot who doesn't know how to make it feel good. and he's also not the type to really care about the idea of virginity. doesn't matter to him; he'll guide you and teach you everything snd he'll be so careful and sweet with you, you don't need to worry. he's not great with words but he does his best to get his thoughts across to put you at ease!!

könig wont bring it up bc he's kind of nervous. his thoughts sort of race when he doesn't get a black and white answer so when he notices you're a little skittish about him touching you, he goes thru 400 different reasons why and doesn't want to ask and scare u off by thinking he's some sex obsessed maniac (he's a pro at catastrophizing!!!)

will not ever bring it up avtually, you definitely will have to sit him down and spell out your thoughts to him. he'll noticeable relax in relief when he realizes you're not scared of him you're just....embarrassed?

unlike simon, he is pretty good with words. he blunt and gets straight to the point. he'll tell you that he's...big....everywhere and that he knows how to prep you so it won't hurt and that he would be SO careful if u felt like you were ready. he also assures you that it's nothing to be embarrassed about. contrary to simon, he does understand that some people view their virginity as something special and that if u want he can make it a rlly romantic evening for u!! it's up to u!!! just tell him what u want and he will follow your lead without a single thought <3

overall, simon isn't rlly the type to just jump into bed unless he gets the idea that you CLEARLY want to have sex with him. he's had his fair share of bedmates and he will definitely be able to pick up on any flirting. if he thinks you might not want to have sex, he wont say anything. he's a grown man who doesn't need to get his dick wet (: he's got his hand (yum) <3

and könig is.....könig. he's just happy to be here <3

I HOPE I ANSWERED UR QUESTIONS!!!!!

[ladyloveandjustice]

I want to expand on what I'm talking about. And I said a little bit extra in the comments:

There's just some posts that have been going around about how to solve the issue of men swinging real right in America right now,which does have an impact on society. some guy was saying he was attacted to the right bc they were all 'welcome brother' but in the left people resent him. I think it's just. It's easier to go to an idealogy that's like 'you're entitled to this' than an idealogy that says 'hey you're not entitled to everything but you could be more emotionally healthy and kinder to other people and". That's something simply being nice or making them feel good won't ever fully fix. The "rewards" for being in the right will always feel more immediate for white men.

It's not unique to men to feel alienated in an idealogy that wants you to challenge yourself. At the same time, more kindness to everyone, emphasis on acceptance, less volatile language toward each other, will help the community be stronger over all. it is a difficult conundrum, but I don't think it comes down to 'we don't make men feel special enough

It also ignores I think, that white men DO get rewarded in leftist spaces too. a lot. Men will get a ton of adoration for saying something vaguely feminist than if a woman says it a lot of the time, and so on a so forth, everyone loves a sweet guy...I think that's something that already happens.

But let's get back to volatile language:

We always say guilt isn't going to help anyone and it isn't about guilt. But I think we need to admit that no, we do try to make people feel guilty and ashamed a lot. And not framing it around that most of the time would do a lot.

I've seen posts straight up saying it's a bad thing to want to survive and live happy lives and take actions to do this because (x) bad thing is happening. You know, the most basic human instinct? And that's not going to win over people. You may not like that, but it's not.

I don't think that needs to center on women helping men feel special about themselves. A lot of us are asked to take care of men all the time and it's exhausting. Men on the left can focus on being more positive about the concept of manhood if they want, but asking women to do the work. is just....yeah that's just the patriarchy.

I do think examining things like black masculinity etc is great though. If you have another marginalized identity, it will intertwine with masculinity in very specific ways that will be used against you, just as it is with femininity or being outside both those concepts (yet the world assigns you one anyway). I totally get that masculinity is used as a weapon against both gay men and gay women, in different specific ways. And I think at least learning about that and supporting efforts to stop this makes one a better person.

On the other hand. it would be insane of me to ask a Black woman to make a Black man feel special and accepted for simply being a man if she doesn't want to do that. Like. absolutely wild.

And it's it's rarely about that, is it? When we say "celebrate men" it's not bringing any unique experience into it. It's about white men. They're the ones who make up most of the alt-right.

Communities in the right are not compassionate but because they offer some form of reward and companionship they can seem like that. As much as people are lured in by "welcome brother" or whatever, those same people will on the right will mock any person who steps outside the strict roles that have been set.

So....we need to abolish to same roles. I think we need to focus on how we talk to people. On supporting people when they're trying.

It also comes off in how we talk to each other about basically I can harshly tell someone who has privilege over me-- a white man or straight person ect ect-- their guilt about their privilege does nothing, I'm not interested in guilt and what we need is action. But let's be real. Telling someone "you benefit from a system that makes other people suffer" is going to make someone feel guilty. And yelling at someone for feeling guilty isn't going to make that better. I think we avoid saying the truth and say what's the core of it-- no, it's not your fault you were born a certain way and now you benefit from something. A society hundreds of years in the making made that happen. And that sucks, that you basically have no choice but to be complicit. And it sucks way, way more for the people who are kept down by that system. So we need to change society. We can do it together. It's not to "make up" for you existing. It's because we care about each other. I want this for all of us, because when we see each other as whole people and are treated equally, it benefits all of us.

This is a not a "men are uniquely punished by the left for being men, we need to celebrate masculinity, stop being so mean" thing. It's a human thing. It's about the way we talk to each other and try to weild guilt towards people in general. People want to feel good about themselves. They want some kind of acceptance. If you're constantly made to feel bad, it can be hard to want to stay. This is something everyone feels, because we all have a selfish instinct.

People don't like feeling guilty. That's just how people are. It's promoting compassion, rather than hatred and resentment, that's going to help us in the end.

But me simply saying that isn't going to change much. Humans feel hurt and lash out too. When horrible things are happening to us, we resent people that don't understand that or are part of that. The paradigm shift will be hard. Not everyone will be able to do it and I don't think that's wrong.

Everyone gets frustrated by a class of people where a lot of them have more power and try to push them down. Nobody wants to talk to someone that's trying to hurt them.

That's why it needs to be someone like me who could explain racism 101 rather than idk. making a person of color say 'well white people don't feel special and accepted for being white. poc we must be nicer. let's celebrate whiteness because the right does and that's why white people are drawn to it, they feel accepted." listen to how ridic that sounds. you are literally asking for a white history month. That's the same thing you're doing when you're talking about manhood like this. The onus is not on the discriminated group to reach out to those harming them. That's up to others in the community.

But as a broader thing...We just need to figure out what the end game is. Do we want to yell and guilt trip, or do we want more people in our corner? What's more important, the end goal or if someone knows all the right lingo or matches up to your opinions exactly? What do we need to rally around? How can we take care of each other? If we're kinder to the community, more people will follow.

Anyway this is the last time i'll say some big thing like this and tag it. I don't like doing this on tumblr for a reason.

[gabessquishytum]

All the virgins of the villages surrounding the great forest are dressed in their families' weddings finery on the appointed ritual day to wait for the great nightmare spirit to choose a bride.

🖤🩶🖤🩶

Hob isn't scared of the great forest - he's been talking to the forest since he was a baby. More importantly, his best friend, Dream, lives in the forest and is still so cool, even as they are almost men now.

If things were different, Hob thinks he would have liked to have lain with Dream, but Hob was born in the year of the great sacrifice - all children born that year in all the villages surrounding the forest must stay pure to be offered to the forest demon // god // spirit -- so Hob's never even been kissed.

Maybe if Hob is not chosen he'll have more choices open to him, but spirit-kissed people tend not to stay in the great forest area, even after they are not chosen.

It doesn't matter if a sacrifice is male or female presenting, they are dressed in their family's heirloom white wedding dress and veiled and lined up together in the hosting town; Hob's town is hosting this year so all the brides are standing in the town square.

Hob has heard that in rituals past, the great spirit just swoops down and when everyone can see clearly again, one of the brides is just gone.

So Hob isn't sure what he expected, but it was certainly not Dream walking out of the forest in beautiful finery, wearing an elaborate crown walking straight for Hob.

🖤🩶🖤🤍🖤🩶

Maybe everyone else still only sees the swoop and will blink and Hob will be gone. Maybe Hob is special and this time everyone sees the great spirit of the forest walk up to him and sweetly take and kiss his hand. Maybe,,,,,,

Omgomg. I love stuff like this. I'm wondering home many times the great sacrifice happens? Is it like a centennial thing, or does it happen every decade? Do the people of the town think that the "brides" are really being taken by the spirit for marriage, or is that just a convenient story covering what they really think happens - do they think that the "bride" actually gets eaten? I'm absolutely possessed by this whole setup.

Whatever the case is normally, Dream is most certainly not going to eat Hob. Dream swore that he would never truly love a human, but he's been helplessly falling for Hob for years and years now. Dream wanders the forest and fantasises about the day that he's finally going to take Hob as his husband - not knowing that Hob is walking beside him and secretly daydreaming of exactly the same scenario.

Hob looks so pretty in his wedding dress, Dream just knows implicitly - this is going to be his last wedding. Hob will be his bride for the rest of time. He'll give his blessing to the villages and give them sacred protection, and he will never take another bride from among their ranks. He will have Hob eternally and they will roam the forest as they always have, only now Dream will be free to touch, kiss and make love to him in the sunlit bower he has already prepared.

Hob has never been so surprised in his life - but when he thinks about it, a piece of his heart knew that it would always be Dream. As he's held in the great spirit's arms, he can only grin and hold on tight. He's waited all his life for this - Dream had better make it good for him!

[anama-cara]

fight club (dark!joel miller x f!reader; dead dove do not eat)

Summary: Post outbreak set in the Boston QZ. You decide to go against Joel in an underground QZ fight club for some extra coin. Joel doesn't take kindly to the competition and decides to punish you in his own special way. Word count: 3.6k

Warnings/tags: Dead Dove Do Not Eat. 18+ minors dni. Unprotected PIV, fingering (f receiving), slapping, choking, hair pulling, violence, blood, degradation, curse word, age gap, dark content, noncon, dubcon.   

a/n: This is the darkest one I’ve written so far so let me know what you think. Author is 18+ Written for #deaddovedecember2023 hosted by @romana-after-dark

You’ve had your fair share of blunders and brushes with death, but this has got to be one of the stupidest things you’ve ever done. But you’re desperate. Really freaking desperate. And desperate people throw out all caution and logic and good old fashioned common sense. So here you are, sweaty hair plastered to your forehead, heart racing, knuckles bloody. And you’re about to make another terrible mistake.

You’ve been in the Boston QZ for about 2 years now and every side hustle and grift you’ve tried has ultimately failed. One of your fellow con artists mentioned some back-alley action, an illegal underground fight club. So you follow his direction to the hideout, through an alley to the back of an abandoned building and down the stairs to the basement. You think the place must have been used for storage before, its mostly unfinished. It’s a large square room with low ceilings. All the furniture has been pushed to the sides of the room, leaving the center open. There’s a mob of people shouting and cheering, mostly large men but you spot a couple of females too. You recognize a few faces amongst the crowd as smugglers you’ve previously dealt with. There are a few lamps in the corners of the room but it’s still dimly lit. There’s a poker table pushed up against the wall, bottles of alcohol, and a caged rooster in the back. You guess this place does everything – speakeasy, gambling, cock fighting, and the ring.

There’s smoke in the air that burns your eyes and when you walk little clouds of dust follow in your footsteps. The smell of sweat, alcohol, and cigarettes engulfs your senses. The place is packed and noisy with swearing and shouting. You push through a throng of people to get to the bookie sitting on a high stool in the corner. She’s wearing a red and black flannel with black jeans and combat boots. She nods to you as you approach.

“Never seen you here, but if you’re here that means one of us trusted you enough let you in. Welcome. So, what can I do for you? Who ya bettin’ on?” She nods to the ring.

Ring is a generous term. Really it’s a cleared away area in the center of the room with a white circle on the floor drawn in chalk. There are two burly men inside fighting it out, fists flailing and blood flying. You notice that one has several teeth missing and cauliflower ear. He seems to be winning.

You turn back to her. “I’m not betting, I’m here to fight.”

She pauses to read your face and once she sees you’re serious she chuckles. She looks you up and down, taking in your skinny arms and round unscarred face. She holds out her hand. “The name’s Tess.”

You take her hand with a firm grip.

“Alright girl, you’re in. But I hope you know what you’re doing.” She gives you all the rules. Basically, you win if your opponent steps out of the ring or they don’t get up after a 10 second count. “I’ll be rootin’ for ya.” She says as you turn to leave. She sounds sincere.

You’re already starting to feel sick. Your stomach is turning, you’re so nauseous and the loud noises and metallic smell of blood isn’t helping. You go to a corner room, as far away as possible, and sit on a flipped over crate to wait. You’re wearing a loose t-shirt with your green cargo jacket overtop, black leggings, and your combat boots. You watch your swinging feet, trying to calm your nerves and not think about the sound of crunching bone you just heard. You wonder whose nose was just broken, Big Guy or Toothless.

As you’re sitting, zoning out, you feel someone walk up beside you. Your head snaps up.

“Hi there.”

Now this is a face you definitely don’t know. You’d remember him. He’s probably in his late 40’s, tall and broad shouldered with patchy facial hair, a strong nose and jaw line, and a pinched brow that makes it look like he’s permanently scowling. But there’s something in his dark brown eyes that catches your attention. It’s alluring and yet it makes you very uneasy. There’s a danger hidden there. He sits on the crate next to you with a sigh. He’s wearing jeans and a tight grey t-shirt that shows off his sculped chest and hugs his tanned biceps. That catches your attention too. You watch his muscles flex as he lowers himself onto the crate. Maybe you’re staring too long. He kicks you crate with a heavy boot.

“Hello?”

Even his voice is entrancing, gruff, dark, masculine, with a thick Texan accent. You blink and clear your throat. “Hi.” You say flatly. You try to appear confident and nonchalant, like you’re bored with this whole thing. Like you’re not scared shitless right now. You’re trying to convince yourself just as much as him.

“You come here often?” He asks and you can’t help but smile at the lame joke. His eyes move to your lips as you smile and his own form a wicked grin. It scares you. Your mouth falls back.

“Um no, this is my first time here. My first match in the ring.”

“You’re fighting?” He sounds equally surprised and impressed. His eyes light up and that predatory grin appears on his face again. “Little thing like you… going up against these grown men. You must be one tough little girl.”

You shift your weight, his words making you uncomfortable.

He quietly adds, “How I like ‘em. A fighter.”

Before you get a chance to respond there’s a roar of the crowd and you watch as they drag a body from the ring and prop him against the wall. You hope he’s just unconscious. You turn back to the stranger but he’s gone. The crowd quiets and you hear Tess call out, “Next round is against my partner Joel. Y’all know Joel. Any takers?”

You get to your feet. The crowd is too thick to see the opponent in the ring. But you don’t even care to see what he looks like first, no point sizing him up. You know all these fighters will be bigger and stronger than you. You have to do it now before you lose the small amount of courage you have left. You can’t sit still any longer.

“Here.” You call out. As you walk to the ring you tell yourself over and over again that they may have more muscle, but you rely on your speed and your skill.

You push through the circle of onlookers, most don’t even seem to notice you or bother to move out of the way. You’re too short to see over their heads so you raise your hand in the air and repeat, “here!” Finally they part. Faces look down at you as you pass and you can read the looks of disbelief and amusement in their eyes. You step over the line of chalk and face Tess. “I challenge,” you say in your most confident voice. Tess looks uncertain, even worried for you. Her throat bobs and she looks like she might say something, but instead she just nods. You turn to face your opponent. Oh shit, it’s the stranger. Joel. You know his name now. He’s giving you that horrible predatory grin again as he looks you up and down shamelessly. He’s so cocky it boils your blood.

“Well look who it is, Newbie.”

You snarl in response but he just laughs at you.

“Begin,” Tess announces.

You start circling each other, moving clockwise as you study each other’s movements, looking for the right time to pounce. You kick up dust as you slide your feet. Your boot catches on something sticky, dried blood. You push the thought from your mind, concentrating on watching Joel. You observe his muscles flexing, his balance, the length of his strides and his footwork. You can tell he’s strong, but he’s slower. You’ll use that to your advantage. During these brief moments of sizing each other up you’ve kept your own strengths hidden. You copied his pace, circling him just as slowly with deliberately timed steps. You want your real fighting style to remain a surprise. You want this fight over quickly, a few strong punches from him and you’d be lights out. You know you can’t overpower him and keep him down for a 10 count, so the only way is to trick him into stepping over the white line.

The crowd is getting impatient, their jeering getting louder and more vulgar as they scream at him to pummel you. With no warning, no tell, he lunges at you and lands a right hook into your jaw, rattling your brain. You dodge his incoming blow, ducking under his arm and side stepping past him. So maybe he’s not so slow after all, that’s okay, you’ll just be faster. Your jaw is aching and you taste blood in your mouth. You spit on the floor and Joel smiles. Just one punch and you’re already dizzy. He closes the gap in one step, towering above you with a vicious gleam in his eye. He does a jab cross combo and you manage to block both. As he’s pulling his fist back you land a hook right into his ribs lightning fast, then quickly pull your punch back and step back into your fighting stance with your guard raised. He looks a little surprised. You actually snuck a blow in. The crowd cheers and his surprise turns to anger. It chills your blood and weakens your knees but you stand your ground. Furious, he attacks you in a brutal volley, jab, cross, hook, elbow. He’s pummeling you with hit after hit and you’re moving swiftly, weaving under his fists as you step backwards, leading him closer to the edge of the ring. Your heel touches the chalk. He throws a powerful cross but he’s late on the recoil so you grab his wrist, leaning into his momentum and pulling his arm, swinging him to the right. He takes a single step to correct his balance. A single step that’s out of the circle.

You drop his wrist as the crowd erupts in shouts of approval at the surprise and swearing as bets are lost. You turn on your heel, not even bothering to look at Joel as you march up to Tess.

“Well color me impressed. If you come back again you could probably make a lot more ration cards. Everyone likes an underdog ya know.” Spectators flock to her, passing up cigarettes, pills, bullets, and food, you even spot a piece of gum. After a minute of tallying she hands you a stack of ration cards. You stuff them in your jacket pocket and nod farewell. This should tide you over for a while, at least until you find another smuggling job. Tess seems okay but you hope you never have to come back here.

You rush out of the hideout and exit into the alleyway where you lean up against the wall and breathe in deeply, relishing the fresh cool night air. You close your eyes for a moment and relax your head back against the cool concrete, letting your body calm down after all the adrenaline.

A hand wraps around your throat, squeezing and cutting off your air. Gasping, your eyes flutter open and you stare wildly at the man in front of you. Joel. His face is flushed and his eyes are black. You choke out, “J-Joel, what-“ but he squeezes even tighter and your plea dies.

“Shut up bitch,” he snaps. Oh you made a big mistake. Now you understand what kind of man Joel is. You humiliated him when you won. You took his power. And he wants it back.

“How dare you trick me like that.”

You’re desperately shaking your head, unable to speak. He slams your head back into the wall. You feel your scalp scrap against the concrete and blood seep into your hair.

“You think you’re better than me, is that it? Huh?” With his other hand he grabs a fistful of your hair. “Huh? Answer me!” he shouts.

You shake your head desperately. He feels the blood on the back of your head now and slides his hand from your hair. Holding it up, he angles his hand to better see in the light from the streetlamp, admiring the sight of your blood on his fingertips. His other fingers are still pushing into your throat, bruising the skin underneath. You have to get out of here. Not knowing what else to do you kick him in the groin, hoping he’ll drop you or at least loosen his grip. It works and you wrench free. You run one, two steps before he catches you and slams you into the wall. You squeal. His hands pin your wrists against the cold wall by your sides and his body is pressed into yours, squishing you against the wall so tightly you can’t move. His chest is heaving and his breath is in your face as he looks down at you.

“Joel please,” you plead desperately.

“Oh now you have manners.” He scoffs. “Too late little girl,” he says darkly. You whine in desperation and his lethal gaze shift to one of greed. “Oh honey you’re giving me a new idea for how to punish you.” He smiles and you watch as lust clouds his gaze. You feel his cock twitch against your middle. Your eyes widen in terror and you gulp. His predator gaze deepens as he clocks your fear. He feeds off of it. He takes your wrists and pins them above your head with one large hand.

“Gotta show you some respect little girl. Put ya in your place.” He leans his hips into you, pushing you deeper into the hard wall as he grinds into you. With no warning he slaps you across your face. It stings as you feel tears forming in your eyes.

“That’s better. Cry for me girly. Think you can beat me, no, I’ll show who’s in control here.” His other hand other slips beneath the hem of your t-shirt and reaches up to grab at your breast. He gropes you roughly, his cold callous fingers kneading into you. He flicks your nipple and you cringe at the pain, but harden under his touch as he rubs it between his finger and thumb. He groans and his hips grind into you again, rutting up against you and pushing you roughly. You feel your skin grating against the rough concrete behind you. He kisses you sloppily, greedily making out with your unresponsive mouth as you try to turn away. He drops his hand from your breast and slides his hand around your neck again.

“I’m gonna let go and yer' gonna take off your pants. Got that little girl?” You spit in his face. He laughs like a mad man. “You’re a fighter. I said I liked ‘em feisty. You remembered, huh girly?”

Then he abruptly stops and he squeezes so tightly you see black spots. “But right now I need you to behave.” You nod vigorously.

“Good girl.” He releases his tight grip and drops your hands. You undo your pants and push them down with your underwear and are about to step out of them when he stops you. “Leave it.” It restricts your movement more, you can’t run.

 “That’s it, good job girly. Now me.” He commands. You undo his belt with shaking fingers and tug his zipper down. You tentatively pause and he smacks your hip. “I didn’t stay stop,” he growls. You tug his pants and boxers down to his thighs and his cock springs free. He’s so big and angry looking that you start to cry.

“Fuckin’ weak.” He wraps a hand around the base of his cock and strokes himself slowly as you watch. The thumbs the tip of his cock where a bead of precum is leaking out. He raises he fingers to your mouth and slides his thumb over your lower lip roughly before pushing it inside your mouth.

 “No biting.” His thumb glides over your teeth and he pushes further. Your tongue flicks against him instinctively and his cock twitches. “You like this girly? You a little slut?” With his thumb deep in your mouth you’re unable to answer but your eyes glare at him. He just smirks. He taps your jaw with his other fingers then brings them to your lips as you open your mouth wider. You suck on his fingers, saliva gathering on them. When he's satisfied, he pulls them out with a lewd wet noise. He pets your check once with the back of his hand. You feel the scratch of the dried blood as his split knucks skim across your face.

He reaches down between you and slides two fingers into you without hesitation. The stretch burns and your muscles clench in surprise. “Fuck, so tight.” He slides his fingers in and out, punishing your hole as you try to adjust. “We gotta stretch you out a bit if you’re gonna fit this big cock.” He pushes another finger in and you scream. He glares at you and silences your scream with his mouth. He bites your lower lip as he fucks you with his fingers. You taste blood as he pulls way.

After a few more thrusts he feels your body adjust and your slick starts to seep onto his hand. He laughs, “Not such a tough girl now huh?” Your face reddens in embarrassment as your body betrays you.

He slides his fingers out and slaps your wet pussy. “Just a little slut. Knew you wanted this cock.” He pushes his fingers through your folds, playing with you and gathering your slick. He slides his fist down his cock, spreading the wetness.

 “Wanna see you cry on this cock.” With his fist wrapped around the base he guides himself and notches at your entrance then pushes all the way inside you, filling you up and splitting you open. You gasp at the stretch and struggle against him. He clicks his tongue. “None of that, stay still,” he grunts as he pulls out to the tip then slams back in to you. “Gotta take your punishment,” another hard dominating thrust.  

“Gonna ruin your little pussy.” He’s hitting something deep inside you with each painstakingly hard thrust. You feel your body responding, heat pooling and your walls flutter around him. He pulls out halfway and pushes back in, setting a new shallow pace as he fucks you against the wall. It’s faster and more desperate. You see sweat forming on his brow. You think you could probably get out of his grip right now if you tried, he’s distracted and out of breath already. But for some reason you don’t. You stay still as he brutally rails you, your back arching against the wall causing you’re your shoulder blades to sting as the scrape the wall.

The sounds of skin slapping slick skin and groaning fill the narrow alley. The street light flickers and for the first time it dawns on you that anyone could walk by and see you. You shiver and try to push against Joel’s hold but he growls at you through gritted teeth. “I said stay still.”

He’s close, you can see it on his scrunched-up face, so you relax and decide to just let him finish. Your body is marked with purple fingerprints and red marks where he slapped you. The blood in your hair has dried. Maybe it was stupid to fight him, you think as he continues to pound you. He feels good inside you, you can’t deny that. You close your eyes and focus on that feeling now, your hips moving to grind into him. It building and building and you can’t stop it as you come on his cock with a cry. Your walls squeeze his cock and it’s enough to send him spilling into you. His muscles twitch and he presses his entire body up against you, flattening you with his full weight as he comes inside you with a groan. You feel the warm gush of his cum inside you as it spreads and fills you. He sighs and slides out with a lewd squelching sound.

“Hmmmm, hope you learned your lesson little girl.”

Your legs are shaking, cum trickling down your thighs. He steps back and releases his hold on your wrists. You slide down the wall and sit crumpled on the cold ground. He drags his cock against your check once before stuffing it back into his pants and fixing his belt. He smirks down at you, proud of his work. “See ya around,” he says before stalking off, leaving you sitting alone in the dirty alley, pants still around your ankles.

You look down and watch his seed seeping out of you. You gulp, feeling your sore throat ache from his chokehold. You swipe your fingers over your cheek, wiping away your tears cooling against the night air. Your fingers brush against your bloodied swollen lips from his crushing kiss and drift to your sides where you see red prints marking your skin. Your fingers slide lower and find the wetness on your thighs. Without thinking you draw your fingers up to your mouth and suck, tasting him. Hand in your mouth you snap back to reality and glance down the alley to make sure no one is looking. You scrambling up, hand against the wall in support. You hurriedly pull up your pants and rush out of the alley in humiliation.

[noroi1000]

Kawaii Sensei

part two

paring: Student Gojo (18) x sensei reader (22)

Summary: You are their new teacher. You are young, and they consider you very loving and kind. You're considered cute by one student. You are his kawaii sensei. And he loves you...

Warnings: short NSFW

"Good morning everyone. My name is (y/n) (l/n). From today I am your new teacher." You said with a nice smile, looking at the three people in front of you.

Were you expecting a little more enthusiasm...

At least a little smile...

Meanwhile, you were standing there looking at the short-haired brunette who looked like she hadn't slept at all. On the other hand, they were dark haired in a bun with a neutral looking face (at least he looked nice), his face was neither serious nor smiling, so you consider it a good sign. The other boy with white hair looked like he wanted to leave here. As if he didn't want to be in this class at all...

"So..." You started clasping your hands together.

You're not much older than them... This is your first day as a teacher at this school.

You graduated from this school some time ago, but your skills weren't very high, so you couldn't count on being higher in the hierarchy. And since you like children, you chose to teach at the Jujutsu school.

Besides, teachers are very much needed in such a school.

Few people can teach in a school like this, and you were a sorcerer, so you had the opportunity. So you chose to teach kids instead of doing missions all the time.

"...Want to know something about me? Or tell me something about yourself?" You gave them a nice smile.

But the principal of the place came to the room. The man who just a few days ago became the principal.

He was the man you took over teaching this class. And you still did not expect what adventure awaits you while you teach this one white-haired boy.

He was practically your teacher a few years ago.

You even remember him well.

And he agreed to let you teach at least one class so that he would have a little less work.

He ran for the position of principal and succeeded.

Therefore, he will have a little more responsibilities. Now at least you'll do it for him a bit.

He's always liked you, that's why he let you go, and he believed you could do everything and look good.

However, you don't understand why he finds these three students troublesome...

Okay, even before you came here, you heard that the white-haired one is sometimes a problem. And sometimes with him his best friend.

You wish you had come here as their teacher now and not from their first day of school.

They are now in their second year. So they know more than the basics.

Besides, these two are already a higher grade than you...

It doesn't bother you because you don't care where you are on the level that much. Sometimes these divisions don't make sense...

You're semi-grade 1 and they're grade 1. And Yaga told you that their skill is still increasing so he's sure they're capable of going into special grade.

Therefore, you are not to save them.

You probably wouldn't be able to murder them in training... You don't want them to experience the same as you in training...

But they still look like well-built young men. So you can guess that Yaga has exhausted them already.

You're not a fan of 24/7 non-stop training.

Poor guys... You don't want to know what they went through before you were their teacher.

Now you're going to make sure they don't hate classes with you.

As far as you know, the white-haired one is Gojo Satoru, who possesses both of his bloodline's powerful techniques. Character description by Yaga: conceited, selfish, inconsiderate, irritating, but very capable and trustworthy. Addicted to sugar and sometimes childish.

The dark-haired boy is Geto Suguru. They both are best friends. He comes from a family of non-sorcerers and possesses the technique of manipulating curses. You are not to be nervous when you sense curse energy, because his cursed energy is just like curses. Character description by Yaga: more composed and calm. He can be like Satoru sometimes. A talented boy who will always get used to the situation.

And the girl is Ieiri Shoko. She's not often included in teddy bears because she's here learning to master the reverse cursed technique.

So far you've only received them. I guess you should make it.

"This is your new teacher. I have more responsibilities than looking after you, so I'm assigning you to her. Don't embarrass me in front of my former student." You looked at the man with a small smile and nodded that he might leave you.

As you stood in front of them, you began to get more nervous.

"I don't know where to start... I know you're training outside today... Sorry, but it's my first day as a teacher..." you said nervously. "The only thing I know about you is something from Yaga-san...your names as well as your skills. I'd like to get to know you more since we spend the next few years together. And who knows, maybe one of you will want to become a teacher later?"

You met the eyes of the white haired man.

You blush with shame. It must have been a bit visible, right? Since none of them even responded...

You hoped that someday you would be able to get close to them and start working with them normally.

It used to be. Half a year ago.

It was completely different now.

You were like a real teacher to them.

They did not expect that they would be able to be so close to the teacher.

They felt like you were their friend and not their teacher, even if you were giving them assignments or teaching them in class.

And there was something no one expected either.

According to one of them, you were adorable.

Cute sensei.

Of course you blushed when you found out. Because no one ever thought you were cute before.

But well, you didn't expect such a comment from anyone...

You were very protective of them.

You knew that your students liked you very much.

You got chocolates from Satoru on Valentine's Day. You don't know if it was a coincidence because he also ate his, or if he gave it to you on purpose.

You couldn't feel anything for the student... It was probably forbidden... You didn't want to take it badly.

So you stood on tiptoe and stroked his soft hair, enjoying the white stripes under your fingers.

You saw his blue eyes widen slightly as you did, and his cheeks flushed a nice pink.

You smiled at him, thanking him with all your heart.

It was the first time you got something for Valentine's Day from someone.

And you felt so good about it. Even if he was your student.

You didn't know that right after that he went to his friend with a big smile.

"Why are you smiling like that? And why don't you ever knock when you enter my room..." he muttered seeing the white haired boy sit down quickly on his bed and lay down with a big smile like an idiot.

It was as if he had overdosed on sugar even more than ever.

"Something happened to make you so happy?"

"She took the chocolates from me!" He said happily.

"Wait... Did you really give it to her?" he asked, his eyes widening slightly.

"Yeah! And she smiled! It was so cute! And you know what she did then?!"

"She's probably touched you somehow or said something nice... But there's no way she's kissed you... You'll have to wait until the grave with that fantasy...

"She stroked my head!"

"He often does this to us..." he replied.

He didn't want his best friend to get overexcited that you might let him in.

Geto knew very well that his best friend fell in love with you.

First they talked about you, and then he started to think you were cool. Until the end, he thought you were pretty and charming.

You never did anything they didn't want. You were still their teacher, but your teaching was so much better.

You weren't that strict, and you asked what they wanted.

You were kind and so soft.

It was cute.

And Geto might have expected Gojo to be attracted to you.

Someone who likes your behavior and enjoys your company.

Until one day he told him that he must have fallen in love with you.

He couldn't stop thinking about you.

He didn't like to see you walking next to anyone other than him.

He was even jealous that you gave him less attention than usual. Then he would come to you asking for an explanation of something he knew very well or wanted to ask for help with a non-existent problem. Those were his excuses to meet you to give him more attention than others.

"But she did it to me with such a cute smile!"

Geto didn't want him to be disappointed by unrequited love...

You were older than them. Perhaps you already had a boyfriend or husband. It would be very difficult for him to dissuade Gojo from loving you. But for the sake of his psyche, he wanted to do it.

He didn't want his friend to be heartbroken.

"What if (y/n)-sensei got other chocolates, like from her boyfriend?" He asked.

He preferred to gently show him that it may turn out that there is already someone in your life.

They didn't know exactly how old you were, and they didn't know much about your private life either.

There was no wedding ring on your finger, and you didn't talk on the phone often, which you basically would if you had a boyfriend or a husband.

It might also be surprising that you had a house near the school and when they were there because you invited them to dinner, they didn't see anyone but you there.

It's like there's no one else in your life.

Sure, Geto doesn't prohibit Gojo from having a happy relationship. However, he didn't want his heart to break if it turned out otherwise.

"I've never heard that she has anyone."

"Satoru, we don't even know how old she is."

"She's a little older than us. She's only just qualified to become a real teacher."

The dark-haired sighed.

"I don't want you to react badly, but we don't know what she thinks of you. She might as well consider you a nice student. I'm sure she would never play with your feelings, but I don't want you to be disappointed with your feelings." He said calmly. "This is probably the first time you fell in love with. You're happy, I get it. But..."

"I know. What do you say we ask tomorrow how old she is? I doubt she'll refuse to answer us."

That's how you ended up walking between them as you headed to the field to practice.

You felt more and more squeezed by them. Why did they have to be so tall?

You felt Satoru getting closer and closer to you.

Until you finally heard the first question you didn't expect.

"(y/n)-sensei, may we know how old are you?" he asked suddenly coming very close to you.

You looked at him questioningly. But you felt so small and intimidated by his eyes.

"I'm just asking out of curiosity... I've heard more than once that you're only a little older than us, so it's just curiosity."

"...Um... Satoru-kun... I'm actually 22 years old. Soon 23." You said calmly.

You couldn't stop thinking about the warmth of his touching your skin.

Satoru-kun is handsome, but you can't think of him other than as a student. It is true that your young mind is speaking here, telling you that you are of similar age and you could at least try. Because he seems to be interested in you somehow.

You like him a lot. Maybe if you weren't as a teacher...

He's 18. I'm sure he'll find someone better than you.

You were snapped out of your trance of thoughts by his next personal question.

"Do you have a boyfriend?" He asked looking at you.

You blushed and jumped back slightly at the question.

"S-Satoru-kun, I-I don't think it should matter, right...?" You said nervously.

Suguru didn't answer.

"I just wanted to know. A cool sensei like you doesn't deserve any asshole."

Your distraction made you really careless.

That's why you didn't even notice that you were about to come down the stairs. You were all red because of his words. And you didn't notice the dip under your leg.

"Wah! Be careful!"

You heard just that and felt him pull your arm back, wrapping his arms around you.

When you realized that you had almost fallen down the stairs, you were pressed against your student's chest.

If only you were older, he wouldn't even want to be so close to you!

You could have skipped a few more years until you were in your thirties!

Maybe then your mind wouldn't rather take vengeance to heaven when you look at your student you could practically say you love...!

You wanted to burn yourself with shame...

You were supposed to look after them, not them you.

"Wow, be careful, kawaii sensei." He said, pushing you away gently.

What did he call you?!

"Umm... What?"

"What?"

"Um..." you murmured.

"What "What?", Sensei?"

"...Nothing..."

You tried to leave to join Suguru at the bottom of the stairs.

But he grabbed your hand.

"Is it what I called you, sensei?" He smiled.

It was a cute but slightly cocky smile.

But with something like this on his face.

Maybe you can quit your job here before your face catches fire from the heat?

This was your second such situation.

First chocolates, then you hear a student call you cute, then he practically asks you to pat his head like you always did and now he hugs you, asks if you have a boyfriend and also calls you "kawaii sensei"?

What is this?!

You were nice to them because you wanted to. But you didn't expect that someone who didn't seem to mind having another teacher at first would suddenly start to be so close to you.

You are friends???

Are you any closer than you should be???

You are four years older than him!

And he is already an adult! You didn't expect him to act like that, he should be doing that to his girlfriend, not to the teacher!

He suddenly leaned lower to your face.

"You are kawaii sensei. My favorite teacher I've ever had." He chuckled and his lips curved into a kind smile.

Teachers can be close to students. And there is nothing strange about it.

But should it be that you feel butterflies in your stomach when he does something like that?

Should it be that he feels butterflies in his stomach when you're next to him? 

You tried to forget about this situation.

But he didn't know how long he would last.

You gave them a completely different job than usual. It was an art class.

You didn't feel like doing anything, neither did they.

So you wanted to teach them to do some origami. It can be very relaxing if you have to talk about it.

A change from those activities that even you get tired of sometimes.

You're also fed up with the fact that you feel so warm in this classroom, and your bed at home is often cold and empty.

Their energy here is nice. And there's only you in your house.

It would be a nice change if you ever had any visitors there.

Why don't you invite them to dinner sometime?

You practically didn't answer Satoru's question he asked earlier. What could you say? You don't have and have never had a boyfriend.

When you went to school here, you were alone in the class. Turns out your year didn't have that many sorcerers. However, there were more people in classes older than you and younger.

You tried your best to be a warm and kind senpai to the younger ones.

That's why you liked the idea of ​​becoming a teacher.

You calmly ran Suguru's fingers over the paper, showing him how to fold the paper properly.

Satoru wondered how nice your hands felt...

He wanted you to show him that too. And she touched his hand.

He was jealous of his best friend.

"Sensei! Can you also show me? I think I ruined it." He said, raising his hand to get your attention.

Honestly, you didn't expect them to be interested in doing this at all.

You walked over to the white haired boy.

He showed you a piece of paper in front of him.

"How do I start?" He asked looking at you.

"Bend the corners of the paper inwards." You said pointing to the right and left corners.

"How?" He asked.

He knew, but he wanted you to guide his hands.

You took your piece of paper and showed him how to fold it.

"Sensei, from what I can see, you folded the bottom corners of the paper."

"You have to do it with the upper ones." you said.

"will you show me I don't want to spoil it."

"What kind of origami do you even do?"

"I wanted from a heart template. It looks nice." He said calmly.

You also tried to stay calm.

"Fine, so bend like in the template I gave you, what to do step by step."

"Will you show me like you showed Suguru?" he asked with puppy dog ​​eyes.

Until you finally gave in.

You stood behind him, grabbing the piece of paper in front of him. And you folded the paper.

You gave him a list of how to perish the paper.

"How am I supposed to hold it?" He asked.

You felt like you were with a child.

But you grabbed his hands and fingers, guiding them.

You smiled slightly. You were curious how big his hands are compared to yours. And that really was the difference.

And he smiled at the feeling of your warm hands.

He tilted his head back, looking at you.

Sending you a warm smile.

"How about I bring you cookies tomorrow?" You asked pleasantly.

You could somehow distract yourself from how cold it was in your house sometimes.

You were smiling all the time at school for them. But you really wish you had the same at home.

I think you need to find yourself a boyfriend...

Because it's probably impossible for Satoru-kun to be so interested in you.

I was making cookie dough when he came home. Until suddenly you heard a knock on the door.

You quickly went to see who it was.

You saw Gojo who said earlier that he can help you prepare the cookies.

You appreciated his help.

But he came with other intentions.

Either you reject it or you accept it.

You either you reject him , push him away, or hit him back.

The moment he kicked off his shoes and the door closed, you felt his lips on yours.

When his body pressed you against the wall in your house.

He wanted to at least enjoy this one moment. Even if you could have rejected him.

However, you never behave the same at home as you do at school.

You are such a nice and sweet person. And such people who care for someone else cannot be neglected by being home alone. With no one around.

You could have pushed him away, punched him in the face.

But you didn't.

Especially after he mumbled into his declaration of love.

You didn't push him away. You didn't hit. You didn't reject his feelings.

You just accepted it.

He's young, but his heart doesn't lie.

He loves you and doesn't want it any other way.

He wants you to be together.

That's why...

That's why you didn't reject him. Because you started feeling the same.

Especially by his behavior.

The warmth he gave you.

You finished the cookies with him. With his arms around you.

With his mouth on your face or neck while you had your back to him.

Your house has become pleasantly warm. Thanks to him.

You waited for the cookies to bake, kissing without saying a word.

Was it really okay?

It was fine...

You weren't much older than him. He's an adult and he's decided he wants it.

Your bed hasn't been this warm in a while.

It got hot as you lay underneath him, your legs spread wide for him, as his oversized cock for a young man rammed into your virgin pussy. By ridding you of any illusions that he loves you.

His hands held you tight as he moved faster and faster, hitting your wet walls.

Your first was your apprentice. And you don't regret it. Because he is someone you love.

You're 22, and now you've found happiness.

You might not even have left Jujutsu High. You could have stayed there and watched him first appear there.

It would leave you a little more room for imagination.

You could see his whole body now. When naked, he hovered above you.

His muscles rippled with his every move.

And you can't stop thinking about how handsome he is.

Your back arched as he made you moan for him.

He beat against your body at a steady, hard pace as you got used to the new feeling of his cock stretching.

"Several times I've thought how nice it would be to have you like this..." he groaned. And his words mixed with his breaths and your soft moans as well as the sounds of skin slapping against skin.

Dirty scenes flashed through your mind as your student jerks around in his room saying something he would say to you.

And so it was.

He did it by imagining you underneath him.

That he was cumming on you instead of the sheets.

And now his erotic dreams have come true.

Because he could bury his cock in your tight pussy and touch your body. See you whole.

Hear you moan his name.

So your red face that contorts in pleasure.

After all, he had his kawaii sensei the way he wanted.

And he will no longer share your attention.

Because he is your warmth at home.

You are his happiness.

You could spend as much time with him as he wanted. You didn't have to worry about the cookies burning.