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this was posted on my old blog as a Halloween fic. this is a different one, no dialogue and no names mentioned. so despite it being written with Oliver in mind, you could read it thinking of whatever bulky dark haired fave you have. also it has a plot, but the plot is mostly smut. and seesh despite all that has been happening to me, I deliver 5k words for Halloween, that's a lot. show your appreciation in the tags, or in a reply, it really helps keep the writing fire alive.

summary. a stupid bet sees you visiting a haunted cave to prove to your friends that ghosts aren't real, but when you go back home, something goes back with you, and it always finds you in your dreams

pairing.Oliver Aiku x F!Reader

wordcount. 5k

warnings.nsfw, kinda noncon but mostly dubcon, ghost fucking I guess, a cameo of tentacle like appendages

unwanted hitchhiker

Ghosts didn’t exist. That was an inarguable fact of life. Ghosts did not exist. The only thing going bump in the night is the wind. The strange noises in old houses are just the weakening structure slowly coming apart. And the strange shadows people saw are most likely a gas leak. Ghosts simply did not exist.

Then why were you sweating cold from just entering a stuffy old cave?

It was a stupid bet. A stupid, stupid bet one of your dumbass friends proposed when you - correctly - informed them that ghosts didn’t exist. You were all at a bar after work talking about the beach trip you’d all be going in a few days, when someone commented that there was a forest near the lodge you’d be staying that was supposed to be haunted.

A couple of your friends seemed spooked by the notion and you laughed it off. Ghosts don’t exist, that is what you said. When you die, you die, and that’s the end of it. But they insisted, they argued, until they proposed a dare. It was stupid, and since the burden of proof fell into those claiming the existence of something, you really had no reason to accept it. But being one too many beers in, you accepted.

The dare was stupidly obvious. At nightfall, you were to follow the marked trail into the haunted forest, and on the first fork you’d turn left, and head into cave that was said to be the center of the haunting. Inside, you’d have to walk to the collapsed remains of an entrance to an old shrine that now laid buried under the rocks. Once there, you just had to take a picture of your hand touching the rocks and you were free to go.

Simple and straight forward. There were no dangerous animals in the forest, the trail was well marked and lit up, and not even bats lived in the cave. Get in, get out, then profit. Nothing to worry about, nothing to fear.

Then, why did your spine tingle the moment you stepped off the trail and into the rock that made up the cave?

Maybe it was just how noticeably cold it was in this dark, damp cave. Or maybe, you were actually afraid, it wouldn’t be weird to feel fear when entering alone an ancient gaping hole in the mountain range. Where the trail before now had been well lit and clean - unsurprisingly, this beach was a tourist hotspot - the short path to the cave quickly lost it’s well kept appeal. With a quick glance back you told yourself you had to get on with it.

Stepping further into the near pitch black cave you felt that same shiver run up your spine again. You wouldn’t dare to blame it fully on fear though, not with how this place seemed to suck up all the heat around. The air inside the cave was noticeably a few degrees colder than the outside, chill seeping into your fingertips as you lifted up your phone to use as a flashlight.

When light hit your surroundings, you finally caught an idea of what it looked like. The cave seemed to suck up even the cold light from your phone, but it was still enough to see something. The space around you was vast, stretching large and long, the solid floor glistening wet, with water pooling here and there. Looking up, you found yourself surrounded by rock as ancient as the mountain itself, cracks littering the ceiling, and water dripping from some of them.

Suddenly you could find sense in your fear. This place had been carved into an old mountain, and the shrine at the very bottom had already been buried under rumble from an earthquake long ago. You were probably feeling the rock shift, vibrations that resound so low the human ear can’t pick it, but the body can still sense them. The infamous ghost frequency, where the brain, without a way to find the sound, can only translate the vibrations as a this strange foreboding danger.

Knowing this gave you no peace, however. Where logic often served to quell your fear of the unknown, this time it failed. Maybe it was all the humidity in the cave turning the air heavy and dense, making breathing a difficult task. So difficult that it felt like a hand grasped around your throat, or that you had a whole body lying on your back. Creepy shit.

Shaking your head you forced yourself to move forward, with the flashlight you could see the outline of a rope on the far side wall, that was your destination. Gathering all your courage you pressed on, wet sounds ringing through the cave as you stepped on a large puddle. Out of instinct, you pointed the phone down, catching sight of a slither of green - lichen, growing on the rock floor. Curiosity made you wave your phone, illuminating more tendrils of green, the lichen seeming to grow in the direction you were going.

Step after step the air felt heavier, your heart beating faster and faster the closer you got to the rock wall, the smell of water, moss and musk intoxicating to your nose. The tendrils of lichen growing thicker and thicker until they fused with each other, gathering at the collapsed entrance, slipping inside the old shire through cracks in the rumble. Or maybe, were they spreading out of it?

Here, water seemed to drip from the rocks more abundantly. Perhaps this was the reason why the lichen seemed drawn to this place. And yet, despite the overbearing humidity and unstopping movement of time, before you stood a long stretch of thick hemp rope. It seemed old - old enough to be actual hemp. Much, much older than you, but it still seemed solid, as if held together by a force beyond nature.

You shook your head again, you were letting yourself get caught by the situation. The long stretch of rope adorned with folded white paper surrounded what once had been the entrance to the old shrine, now closed off by fallen rubble. Scattered over the rock were paper talismans, you couldn��t really tell what was written on them, or what they were supposed to mean, but this wasn’t your main question. Indeed, you just couldn’t help but wonder how the glue hadn’t worn out after so long.

No time to think, this was the place, only one thing left now.

Taking a deep breath you tried to calm yourself, this was it, it was already over, only the last step and you were free to go. The air you inhaled helped in nothing though, it crashed heavy and warm in your lungs, like something was breathing in your face. Best not to dwell on it. Fuck this place, just take the picture and go.

With a hesitant step, you came face to face with the rock, the imposing rope standing eye level with you. Yet again, a shiver runs down your spine, so you just decide to get it over with. Hastily, you lift your left hand and place it over the rock without thinking where. It lands under the thick rope, fingers brushing over one of the talismans, the paper feeling strangely dry to your skin.

You pull up your phone, select the camera, frame your hand, and snap! Your flashlight flickers for a second before coming back on again. With the same haste you pull back your hand, but when you do, the talisman under your finger follows. Shit, you probably just desecrated a historical place. Stupid ass bet.

However, just as the realization of your mistake sinks in, a gush of cold wind blows through the cave. It brushes against your skin, making the chill burrow into your flesh and creep through your veins. For a second, you feel as if something long frozen slipped into your body. But just as it came, it was gone again. The wind died out and you were back to normal.

Fuck this place, you were getting out of here.

When you got back to the lodge you shoved the picture in their faces. There were no ghosts, you told them, mystery solved. Someone said you were brave, another that you were no fun, and someone else snickered, laughing as they said you should be careful, maybe a ghost could follow you home. Sure, as if.

Your trip to the beach with your friends took three days, and you did the dare on the last one. As you’d told your friends before, you weren’t willing to catch some weird cave disease and spend your whole trip in bed sick for a stupid fucking dare. No goddamn way.

The last night you spent on your trip went well enough. You drank, you had fun, you went back to your room to get ready for the return trip the next day. All going on like normal, no shivers through the night, no shadows on the edge of your view. All quiet on your front. Except, when you laid down to sleep, you had strange dreams.

You would not dare call them nightmares, but they sure weren’t your usual. You were more of a dreamless void type of sleeper. But this time you dreamed vividly, maybe not in sight but in feeling. It all felt real, weirdly real. Maybe more real than reality in itself.

The way your skin tingled, the warmth of someone’s breath on your neck, the feeling of hands all over your body. You couldn’t see anything but somehow you knew you were back into the cave. The water feeling cold to your touch, the lichen pricking your naked skin, the rock hard under you. And yet, there was a warm body pressed against your back, hands rough and hot all over your body. They kept the cold at bay as they moved closer and closer to your core.

You struggled, or at least you tried to, fighting back to for control over your surroundings. But quickly you found yourself overpowered, arms and legs being bound in a strange, warm and wet embrace - like the lichen was binding you to the rocky floor. The large hands on your body traveled further towards their destination, one landing on your exposed breast and the other finding your pussy. You were naked, body and soul, and ready for the taking. And whatever force held you down, it felt hungry.

The hand on your breast squeezed hard, fingers sinking painfully into your flesh. The one on your pussy found your clit and carelessly worked the little nub to it’s pleasure. There was so much heat seeping into you and the air felt so heavy, bearing down on your lungs. The same smell you felt before filled your nostrils again, moss, water and musk.

You tried to scream, but it was to no avail. If anything, it seemed to spur the hands to work faster. The one on your chest moved away, fingers slipping into your mouth to shut you up. The one on your pussy positioned its thumb over your clit, three other fingers sliding inside your wet hole. You wanted to scream, but you couldn’t. Still, you tried to struggle, fighting your hardest for as long as you could.

But this was a losing battle, and it didn’t take long for the fight to be fully lost. You were growing tired, and the pleasure was growing higher and higher until it overpowered your will. A shock ran through your body, coiling every muscle and shaking your convulsing core. You wanted to scream again, and this time the hand on your mouth slipped away, letting your voice be heard. Whatever was holding your limbs let go, and the last thing you felt before waking up was one of the hands softly caressing your face. You woke up in the morning to the wind softly blowing past your window and into your bedroom.

That had been four nights ago. For four nights you’d been having the same dream, and every night you woke up wet with sweat, and something else. You brushed it off as a weird hick of the mind. It could be like that. You spent most nights in a dreamless sleep, but sometimes, if something weird happened, you’d spend nearly a week having strange dreams. It would pass - and yet, it felt different.

The dream was always the very same, the place was always the cave, and whatever touched you always felt like the same thing. Always the same dream, except for how it escalated every night, getting more and more intense. You never saw the face - or anything for that matter - of whatever plagued your sleep, but you felt it, you felt it so clearly. And on the last night, the fourth night, you were sure you felt the outline of its dick rubbing against your pussy.

This was the fifth day, well, had been, now that dusk had settled, it was the fifth night. And by god, you were starting to get antsy just from the need to fall asleep. This was insane, it made no sense at all. It was just a bad dream - then, why wouldn't it just stop? You refused to believe there could be anything more to it, and the fact that it happened after your visit to the cave was just coincidence. It was nothing, it had to be.

Truth be told you’d started fearing dreaming itself. You’d started fearing falling back into dreamland. Back into the hands of whatever inhabited your subconscious mind. Back into a state where your will was so easily toppled by this sickly pleasure. You’d started fearing falling asleep - even though a part of you felt strangely anxious for it, and you’d started fearing that part of yourself too.

Stupid, you told yourself. It was nothing, you reminded yourself. It was all in your mind, you insisted, trying to convince your own self as you laid in bed. You’d fall asleep today, and by tomorrow this would all be gone. It would be over. You were sure of it.

And with this certainty you closed your eyes, ready to plunge into Morpheus’ embrace, tomorrow this would be no longer.

The smell of moss, musk and water invades your nostrils again. You are back to breathing that heavy, dense air. Back to feeling the wet, hard rock under your legs. This time there is a hum that runs through the cave, reverberating through the rocky walls, until it lands back on your ears and makes you shiver.

It’s not a human sound, more like the wind whispering in a language long lost, but it sounds pleasured, somehow. You cannot understand what it says yet it sends a jolt through your body that tenses your muscles. But in the depths of fear, you find a sliver of pleasure.

As the sound travels through your flesh, the vibrations reverberate in the body behind yours. This time it feels more physical than it ever did. The sound waves lacing with a strange warmth as they travel from that unknown body back to you. It makes you oddly aware of the sensation of hard muscle wrapped in cloth that embraces you from behind. The feeling of soft and thick linen rubbing against your skin. The steady movement of rise and fall against your back. The fanning of a hot breath touching your neck.

It is almost human. Almost. Eerily real in a way that dreams aren’t meant to be. It’s entrancing, the sensation of rough hands traveling over your skin. The slight bite of the nails as thick fingers sink into your flesh, trying to burrow their way in. You try to fight again, to break free, but the strong arms around you only pull you closer. When did you start noticing how large those arms were?

Your struggles seem pointless to the thing holding you down. Thick arms bring you deeper into this strange embrace, and the more you try to fight, the deeper you seem to sink. There is a deep hum echoing from behind you again, and the entire cave seems to rumble. Hot breath fans over your skin, so close now that you can feel its wetness, and at the same time, wind blows through the stone walls. That’s when you realize, the cave is breathing with him.

Him?

No time to think as one of the hands finds its way down to your core again. Two thick fingers encase your clit, sending electricity up your spine, lighting up every nerve in its wake. The other hand has found your breast, pinching your nipple between the rough pads of his thumb and forefinger. He is careless, aggressive even, and it has you squirming. Whining in a way that has him responding with an amused hum that travels in the wind and echoes through the walls.

You try to muster a no, try to bargain with whatever has you on such a strong hold, but the words stick to your throat, choking the wind from your lungs. The cave rumbles together with the shaking of his chest, his breath touching your skin in short, staggered huffs. His face is so close you can smell the air he exhales, feel the shape of his jaw and the stubble running against your neck, sense his whole torso rumble. He is laughing.

His fingers squeeze your clit again and you gasp, trying to move your legs wildly to get out. It’s no use, you feel something slither up and wrap your thighs once more, this time drawing your shaking legs further apart. You try to resist but he moves the fingers on your clit in a way that has pleasure shaking your body, making your pussy twitch in need. Pleasure starts to mount in your body and eat away at reason. And that’s when you feel it.

The skin that pushes against your wet folds is warm and soft, but its touch feels hard as rock. You don’t even need to look down to know what’s pressing against your pussy. The shape and feeling of a hard cock is unmistakable. And even if you tried, something in you refused to look down - if in fear or excitement, you couldn’t really tell.

The more he presses his hardened length against you, the more you realize its sheer size. He is huge, long, and thick, overwhelmingly so, and you aren’t so sure that this is going to work. Though, you don’t really think the thought has crossed his mind.

He starts to push himself harder into your pussy, shoving his massive length into you. You try to struggle, trying to tell him it won’t fit. But your voice is nothing more than a murmur, and the cave only rumbles in response as he once more flicks your clit in a way that has you shaking in pleasure.

The creature behind you takes this chance and with a swift movement, he shoves his cock into your pussy. You gasp at the painful stretch, your walls trembling against the intrusion. Then he starts moving again, and you realize, he isn’t fully in yet.

He gives you no time to resist as he pushes himself the rest of the way in, forcing his cock balls deep, pushing you to the extreme. You cry out when he fully buries himself, a pained sound but there is pleasure mixed in it. And then he starts moving, deep and hard, and you cry out again but this time the sound is silenced by a thunderous surge of wind.

That’s when you wake up.

Violent winds blow through your windows and your eyes open in shock. You find yourself sitting in bed as thunder crashes outside, but that isn’t something you can worry about when you feel your body rock with a moan. The sensation of a cock ramming into your pussy continues, you try to move your legs but they still seem tied down, and the feeling of a body around you isn’t gone.

Awakening doesn’t seem to have ended the dream.

Your whole body shakes again and again as he shoves his cock deep into you. The pain from the stretch and violation starts to mix with the pleasure from his thick fingers on your clit. You dart your eyes around the room rapidly, not able to move your body, unsure of what is happening, of what you are supposed to be feeling. It’s strange, scary, and weirdly exciting all at once.

A moan fills your ears and it takes you a long moment to recognize it as your own, your voice echoing strange through the walls of your bedroom. They are the walls of your bedroom, that much you can recognize the moment your eyes focus. It’s hard to form any thought with the way his cock has pleasure shaking your body and fogging your mind but you try.

With what little consciousness you can muster you try to look around. You can feel his hand on your breast, pulling you flush against his body. Feel the fingers on your clit and the cock fucking you fast and hard, but you look down and you can’t see anything. Not until your eyes catch the mirror in front of your bed.

You gasp in both shock and pleasure as you take in the sight reflected before you. Where you could see nothing before now the image is clear. Sitting behind you is a large man, wearing what seems like old shinto robes, your body propped onto his lap. Coming from behind him are the green thick tendrils that hold your legs open. He has one hand under your oversized sleep shirt, the other is on your clit. And now you can clearly see his massive cock moving in and out of your pussy.

He gives one especially hard thrust and your whole body rocks, his fingers unrelenting on your poor clit. You moan out, hands finding purchase on his thick legs, feeling the rough fabric under your palm. Your mind is slipping, slowly drawing blank with pleasure, but your eyes still don’t dare leave the mirror.

Once more he gives the same hard thrust making you cry out, pussy walls coiling around his thick, veiny cock. His torso rumbles in satisfaction again, but this time there is no wind, no response from the environment, only the shaking of his body. You finally manage to fix your eyes to his face buried against your neck and you get why there is no sound.

His black hair falls messy in front of his face, but it doesn’t hide the talismans over his eyes, nor the one covering his mouth. Now that you notice it, it looks like he has those things all over his body, scattered on his old linen robe. It seems odd, curious - but you don’t get a chance to wonder when he speeds up his thrusts.

The intense, overwhelming sensation of being filled to the brim and then more washes over your body and mind. It has you whimpering and begging - if it’s for more or for him to stop you yourself don’t know. You are sure he wouldn’t stop either way. He thrusts hard and deep, faster and faster, his cock throbbing within your gummy walls. You feel it, every inch, much more than you logically should, but your mind is too foggy from the relentless fucking to focus on those details right now.

Your hands grip onto the linen of his pants, a fabric you can feel, but only see in the reflection on the mirror. The same reflection that shows you fucked out, mouth agape, tears welling in your eyes - but you didn’t even feel them there. You look mindless, completely vulnerable and small against the hulking figure fucking you from behind. And for a moment he looks back at you.

For just a second you catch a glimpse of green shining from behind the talisman placed over his left eye. A flash of color and suddenly it's gone, but a shadow of a smile crosses his features, despite the old paper covering his mouth. Then a hum resonates into your flesh, vibrations coming from deep within his body until they reach your core.

Somehow they enhance your pleasure, having you shaking, eyes rolling back as you moan from the combination of sensations. The hand squeezing your breast, the fingers teasing your nipple and that monstrous cock impaling your soft insides. The pain from his size now being overtaken by the pleasure, your body betraying your mind as it lets the invasion of this stranger win.

There isn’t much to be done at this point as he rocks you up and down on his lap, your brain focusing on nothing but the feeling of him inside you. The feeling of his cock forcing your walls apart with every violent thrust. The way your whole pussy throbs in time with the movements of his fingers on your clit.

Your core is spasming against him, your breaths growing shorter and shorter. You’re sweating, his skin feels hot where it touches yours, and it's like he is warming the entire room. Your whole body is lighting up, every nerve on fire, every muscle coiling, drawing so tight they could snap. The world around you dissolves, the fog on your mind growing thicker until there are only the rhythmic thrusts of his cock and the warmth of his body around yours.

It’s too much, too much. You babble something unintelligible, you can feel your mind slipping from you. When you try to cry out, the words choke on your throat, your breath draws short, the muscles in your chest coiling so tight, crushing your lungs. You are choking, drawing in this mix of pleasure and pain, fear and excitement. It’s too much, too strong, too good and then you snap. That pained cry finally slips from your lips until there is bliss.

To you, your orgasm feels like it lasted an eternity. Your senses dulled to the world, engulfing you in a timeless void where there is only the feeling of pleasure coursing through your body. Then your senses start returning, first picking up static before letting the world back in.

The first thing you notice is that he isn’t done, his thrusts going faster and harder. Something you wouldn’t think humanly possible. But this thing wasn’t human after all, was he? You are too fucked out and tired for this question.

All you know is the feeling of him - whatever he is - ramming into you again and again. And the way your oversensitive pussy tells you this speed must be a sign he is nearing his end. What with how his cock is throbbing violently within you, pulsating more and more intensely with every push.

The hand under your shirt pulls you snug against his body, fingers trying to burrow into the flesh of your tit. The one that was on your clit is on your hip, helping to move you up and down with so much ease that it makes you seem weightless. You curl your hands around his large arms to hold on, feeling thick muscle tense under his clothes. If he notices the gesture, he doesn’t show, keeping up the speed as you fight to stabilize yourself.

His thrusts are so intense, so fast and it feels like he is going to tear you apart. You’ve already gone past your brink but he still hasn’t reached his, and it’s way too much for your abused pussy, way too much for your still fuzzy mind. Before you notice it, tears are rolling down your eyes from the exhaustion of all these overwhelming sensations.

You feel the stubble tickling the skin of your face again, and looking at the mirror you see him move his head against yours. He pushes his face into your own, rubbing his nose over where your tears rolled. Another melodic hum resounds from deep within him. It feels somehow soothing - but he still speeds up his thrusts even more.

A whimper escapes your mouth as he fucks himself into you, fast and deep. He pulls your body impossibly closer, not letting you move a single inch away. Within you, his hard length twitches and throbs with fervor. He is going faster and harder and deeper, until suddenly he pulls you down forcefully.

His arms hold you in place, his cock buried as deep as it can go, and then you feel it, thick hot cum pouring inside your sensitive pussy. It coats your insides, filling you to the brim, warming up your body in a way that’s not natural. You feel it drip down your thigh, and when you look at your core, you see nothing, it’s strange. But your eyes finally find the mirror and there it is, clear as day, his cum spilling from your pussy to your legs, his cock still buried inside you.

Your tired gaze lingers there for a long moment, before taking in the whole picture. The arms wrapped around your body. The tendrils still holding onto your legs. The hulking figure behind you. You look exhausted, but he looks somewhat tired too, if the heavy rise and fall of his torso tells you anything, since the talismans on his face hide any expression.

But still, you notice he doesn’t let go of you. And strange as it is, you find an odd comfort in that. Part of you says you shouldn’t, but another part doesn’t care. As if sensing your gaze, he looks up from your neck to the mirror, and despite the talismans covering his eyes, you can tell he is looking directly at you.

That’s when you feel a pull, calling your hand to his face, and a thought crosses your mind. What if you removed one of those things?

from my old blog, azulock, for halloween 2024 - reblogs and replies keep authors alive! banner art from: human sacrifice!! bitch-chan by rorogi mogera

[simpsarcade]

hi are we okay? pt. 2

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Fun Story to Share.

I got my (now 18-year-old) daughter into Ao3 back in 2021. I taught her she should always comment - even if the fic looks old or abandoned or whatever. She did.

Well - she got this email this morning:

The fic was written in 2014 and essentially abandoned.

Bethy read and reviewed in 2021 (and was actually the only person who had commented at all).

Today in 2025 - the final chapter was posted by the author and this was her reply to Bethy’s comment.

———

Never question whether a fic is too old to comment on.

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reader giving Nagumo oral in a broom closet, that's it, that's the post. this is just me trying to get myself back to writing again, I'm rustyyyyy

pairing. Yoichi Nagumo x reader

wordcount. 1.5 K

warnings. nsfw (oral male recieving, gagging, throat fuck, throat pie)

office hours

The sounds of the hustle and bustle of daily life in the JAA headquarters permeated clear as day through the thick wooden door Nagumo had his back pressed to. He could hear the footsteps, people coming and going, talking and laughing outside. It was clear as day, and if anything it added to the thrill of the very dangerous thing he was going right now - a shiver running up his spine and cutting his train of thought when your tongue surrounded the sensitive head of his cock.

He bites his lips looking down at you again just as he hears someone running right outside the door - yeah, it really only added to the thrill. He takes in the sight of you on your knees in the broom closet floor, his long and hard cock covering a part of your face as you lick him from the balls all the way to the tip, teasingly slow. It makes a shudder run down his spine again and he groans, smirking back at you.

Nagumo misses the way the wetness of your tongue caresses the underside of his hard cock as soon as it is gone, leaving him throbbing as your lips surround his cock again. Usually he’d be happy to just lay back and let you do all the work on your own, taking it at your own pace, but he is feeling especially impatient today. Lacing one hand into your hair he tugs at it lightly, urging you to take in more of his cock.

You know what he wants, but you don’t comply immediately, not exactly. You slowly take him into your mouth, going almost all the way down, making him hiss lowly. Just then you pull back, making sure to keep the suction tight as you slowly release his massive length. He grunts in disapproval, but you adore the way his cock throbs when you do that, and the salty taste of precum that comes with it.

The fingers in your hair tug at it again, making you whine, and Nagumo takes this chance to push the swollen head of his cock back into your mouth. You gasp for a second at the intrusion before giving in, slowly starting your way down again, licking the underside of his erection as you go, spreading saliva over his thick length. This time you try to get as close to the base as you can, bobbing up and down, making nasty wet sounds as you go. For a second this seems to sate Nagumo, a hum coming from his chest, the hand in your head caressing you, but it doesn’t last, and his fingers tug at your hair again, harder this time.

Impatience finally got the better off of Nagumo, though you had stopped with the teasing you still weren’t giving him everything he wanted. He knew you could go deeper, he'd hazard even saying you could take him all the way. Sure, he knew he was big, but he didn't doubt that with the right coaxing you could take all of him. So he takes it in his hands, frustration and desire blinding what little patience was left, fingers finding your scalp and pushing your head down on his cock.

At first he does it slowly, pulling your head up and down his dick but not really reaching all the way. It feels good, making his hips buck forward, the movement making you gag and that's when you lose it. Just the noise you make is nearly enough to have him spiraling, but it's the feeling of your gagging around his dick that has him truly gone. All manner of self control is gone as his movements get faster, veiny hands pulling your head further and further down his cock.

You're gagging around his massive shaft, struggling to keep up as Nagumo's long fingers use your hair to pull you you up and down his cock at an impressive speed, making you slobber him in saliva as you go. He's trying to pull you down all the way to the base but it's hards, he is long and thick, and the upwards curve of his cock makes it even harder despite all the lubrication.

In you chest your hear is racing as Nagumo humms in pleasure, jerking off his hard length with your head. You place your hands on his thighs trying to hold on for dear life, your eyes watering and breath faltering as he keeps up his relentless pace. It's too fast, too hard, too much all together but strangely enough, you can't deny the throbbing between your legs, even through the breathlessness and discomfort.

The harder Nagumo fucks himself with your mouth the harder he finds it to keep silent. It's just too good, and the added adrenaline of having to hide makes it even better. You look messy, saliva and tears straining your face, breath erratic as he pushes his dick further and further in - it all looks so hot that it has his cock throbbing in your mouth.

When he finally pushes himself all the way down, you gag around his pulsating length. Nagumo grunts at the sound and at the feeling of the head of his cock pushing against the back of your throat. He holds you in place for a second, holding your head against his crotch as you gag around him, and even through he bliss clouding his eyes he notices the way your thighs come together, squeezing hard around the nothing.

"You like this? What a freak," he snarks with a laugh and a smirk, enjoying it when even that only makes you squeeze your thighs harder.

He resumes his aggressive pace before he is even done speaking, pulling out all the way to the tip then back to the base again, making you gag once more. Every time your body tries to swallow on reflex, your throat closing hard around the sensitive head of his cock. Every time you can feel the counter of his massive length, so big it fills you to the brim, tears falling down as you feel yourself choking. Still, It feels so, so good, making your core tighten in response.

Nagumo keeps up the same voracious rhythm. Pulling your mouth to the tip then flush against his hips and back again, making you swallow him to the hilt every time, eliciting wet sounds that can only be described as downright pornographic. It's hypnotic, the vulgar sounds, your messy face, the feeling of your throat clenching around his dock, a litany of sensations that have him on edge. His cock throbs and twitches wildly in your mouth, his movements with your head becoming shallower and more erratic. He is coming to his limit, chasing his release with careless abandon.

It doesn't take long for his vision to go white, body freezing in place just as he pushes himself all the way inside your mouth. Your gagging only feeds his orgasm, milking his throbbing cock as he shoots rope after rope of thick white cum straight into your throat, keeping your lips tight against his hips to make sure you swallow everything. His orgasm feels like it takes forever, and there are tears streaming down your face now, but he keeps you in place with a strong hand as he empties his heavy balls into you.

Nagumo only lets go when he feels it's over, all his cum deposited straight into your tight throat. He pulls out and a string of saliva and cum mixed together connects his length to your mouth. He watches you take in a deep, ragged breath, coughing up as you try to regain your composure. In a sick way, this too is kinda hot.

His long fingers reach for your face, wiping away the tears and saliva as you slowly regain your breath. A wicked smile spreads a cross his face as his thumb pushes against your dump skin, your breath caressing his hand. You are such a mess and it's so hot he can already feel himself getting hard again, especially when your still teary eyes meet his. He is just about to push you to the ground when he hears his name being called outside.

Shit, he was using your sweet mouth to escape work, but it seems work just found him.

"Ugh, looks like I gotta get back before they find us," he says, voice cheerful as Nagumo squeezes your face with one hand, laughing at your annoyed grunt. "And just when I wanted something more."

He shrugs with a full body sigh, looking to the door as you both hear footsteps moving away. You want to say something back, but your breathe is barely back to normal and your throat and jaw are both sore, so speaking becomes too much of a hassle. Moving quick, Nagumo unlocks the door, hand on the handle and ready to go before you can even get up. Just as he opens it, he turns back to you for one last moment.

"Don't think this is over, we're gonna continue another time," he shoots you a wink and steps out, the door closing before him, leaving you tired, sore and way more high strung that you should be during office hours.

[simpsarcade]

Narumi Gen likes seeing you dolled up and all dressed but I think what really gets to him is the absolute bliss of domesticity and seeing you in everyday clothes, clothes you wear around the house, comfort ridden tshirts where the neck is too loose or sweatpants where the elastic band no longer tightens and holds up like it once did

I think it all stems from his home life and childhood- or lack of it in a way. He craves that type of close proximity, to be so at ease and peace with someone that you willingly, without thinking, share all of you with him.

Sure you look hot as hell with expensive clothes that bring out your best angles but the fuzzy hoodie with cat ears at top sends an arrow to his heart. Your eyes will be sleep ridden, you’ll let out a big yawn and stretch and the glimpse of your worn out underwear’s band just sends butterflies to his stomach.

Sure that shirt and the cleavage detail raises the temperature in the room but that sweater you’re wearing, that’s not quite fitting of your form, that, upon close inspection he is positive is from his wardrobe makes him feel things like no other.

[simpsarcade]

Gokurakugai New Years Illustration (x)

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thinking of a hot guy who likes to chase after older women, he could totally have the younger girls, and maybe he does too, but he likes to chase a milf - actual mother or not. he likes it even better when they are the serious, successful types, the type that definetly doesn't look like she'd be moaning under a guy at the very least a decade her junior. there is a different kind of charm to an older woman that he just can't find in the younger ones. maybe it's how their bodies are often softer and fuller, maybe its the taboo of how weird society finds it when an older woman is with a guy like him, maybe it's how life experience kinda kills the whole drama and nervousness thing meaning he can get to the good parts easier. or maybe ita because these successful older women are often the most desperately horny ones behind closed doors - a desperation he is all too eager to please, esp when it means seeing a successful milf crying under him and begging for his cock.

Oliver Aiku, Michel Kaiser (blue lock); Gen Narumi, Reno Ichikawa, Haruichi Izumo (kaiju n8); Natsuki Seba, Gaku (sakamoto days); Jo Togame (windbreaker)

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Welcome to the first Shirtless Thursday of the year with @magawaan 🩵💜

Had to start the year with Gaku because this is going to be Sakamoto Days year for me and it’s gonna consume my entire personality so just a warning 🤣

[simpsarcade]

Period horny is no joke

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thinking about getting fucked by Oliver in a nightclub, but the kick is you are complete strangers to each other.

the place is so goddamn dark and the purple and blue strobe lights do nearly nothing to change it. you don't even get to see his face, one minute you are dancing, chest to chest with this big man, the next you are grinding your ass against him. then you have his hand under your skirt, inside your panties, and when you realize he's got his cock thrusting into you from behind at the rythim of the music, making it still feel like a dance. this man whose face you haven't even seen is shoving you into the railing, making you hold on for dear life and fight not to make a noise, hoping so hard that others don't see you.

or maybe you are not hoping for that ya know, I dunno I'm just real horny. man I so need to write a longer version of this

[simpsarcade]

this is my first fic in this blog, yay I guess. listen I think Shiba is very cool and very hot and I like it when cool and hot guys are pathetic, this is my excuse. btw this was supposed to be under 1k, I fucked up

summary. the danger of keeping a fling going is when your heart begins to yearn for more. and for one whose life was so full of chaos as Shiba's was, yearning feels even heavier.

pairing. Shiba Togo x reader

wordcount. 2.7K

warnings. nsfw (piv, unprotected sex, creampie), sorta angst too

rainy day.

There were days that were good, days that were bad, and days where the pressure of everything felt so heavy Shiba felt his body ache and yearn for a respite he knew he couldn't grant it. Awful shit. And the rain pouring over the windshield of his car helped nothing in that, only making the day feel more oppressive. Not even the beer in his hand was doing the trick today.

He knew he shouldn't drink when he was the only person he could count on to drive himself home. But he didn't have the energy to care today. It really was one of those days. And where he'd driven himself here to try to find some solace for his tired flesh, he wasn't really finding any.

No, he was actually finding the opposite.

Sitting in his parked car, windows closed, beer in hand, Shiba felt like a loser. His dark gaze glared at the rearview mirror, boring holes in the poor thing as he watched the reflection distorted by droplets of water. In the image he found you, laughing under an umbrella, an umbrella held by some man he'd never seen. Pathetic, now he was moping over a woman he didnt even have anything with - technically.

You were someone Shiba had known since before the war. Never close, but never that far. Always in the surroundings of his social circles, on the periphery of whatever had taken hold of his life at the moment. But recently, by whichever trick of fate, you'd gotten closer. Physically much closer.

Physically being the keyword. It was a casual sex sort of thing. You were hot, and you were tired of getting embroiled in romantic drama for middling sex. He didn't really find much of a way to build a relationship in his chaotic life, but he still needed the sweet relief for his tired body. It was good enough. Simple enough. Until it wasn't.

Truth be told when the war ended Shiba hoped at some point things could slow down and he could settle down a bit. Maybe find love for himself. Hell, even Kunishige managed to have a kid, why couldn't he? It's not like he was ugly or unlikeable. But it just never happened, he never managed to slow down enough for it to happen. First being in the Kamunabi, then not being in the Kamunabi, and the horrible fate that befell Kunishige, and the realistic kind Chihiro's whole thing.

His luck fucked him over and he never found respite, never settled down, never made a home in the arms of someone he loved. On most days this didn't really bother him, but there was always a bad day. Shiba knew he should have killed this romantic dream long ago, and he thought he did, but the damn thing refused to die. Like a cockroach, it clung to the shadowy corners and resurfaced when it was most inconvenient.

So now he was here, watching you laugh and smile as you chat with some guy, shoulders touching together while you both try to fit under the umbrella. It takes a second but your laughter dies down, you recover your breath and say something to him before stepping out from under the umbrella. Shiba follows you with his eyes as you run to the other side of the street, leaving the mirror's view, and the man turns around and does the same. Turning his head he finds you, stepping into your building, door closing behind shortly.

He feels pathetic, but he still finishes his drink and gets ready to go knock on your door and pretend he is fine. You really are never so low that you can't sink further. Or so he guesses.

"Saw your car out front, were you waiting for me?" You ask, tone playful as you offer him a beer, the both of you leaning on your kitchen counter.

"Oh," he laughs, taking the beer even though he knows she shouldn't, but that's just one of the things he shouldn't. "Figured you'd be home by now, but I guess I should've texted first."

"Usually, yeah, but with this weather and how I didn't have an umbrella, I decided to try and wait to see if the rain would slow down," you shrug, taking a swing of your bottle.

"The picture of preparedness, huh?" He shoots at you, laughing when you glare and scowl at him in annoyance. "You could have just asked me for a ride," he shrugs.

"Pfffff," you laugh out loud, throwing your head back. "Shiba, you and I both know you are always busy, always up to something. So I'd rather not bother you."

Your look is light and playful, but he still feels a sting on the back of his head. So he just shakes his head, taking a long drink from his beer to try and keep his face from sulking. He has got a beautiful woman in front of him, he is getting laid tonight, he gotta keep the spirits up.

"You got me," he raises his hands and smirks, "but the intention is what matters. But at least you found a way to hitchhike someone's umbrella. Who was that guy anyway?"

"A friend from work. A great dude, really, and lucky for me he lives a couple blocks down. Otherwise, I'd have to walk in the rain and get here drenched," you groan, clutching the counter as you dip your head back.

Shiba watches you as he drinks, letting his eyes trace the outline of your neck, from your chin to the neckline of your shirt. Suddenly the mental image of you, drenched head to toe, flashes before his eyes, and if he had a say, it doesn't look so bad. No, far from it, it's downright enticing.

"Why you asking, tho? Now, that seems a little jealous, huh, Shiba?"

He snaps back to reality, realizing that while he was fantasizing, you had straightened your posture, squinted eyes shooting right into his soul. He felt like a deer in headlights, a criminal caught red handed. And so he did the only thing he could - laugh to try and hide how guilty he was.

"You are seeing things," he tries to give you his best playful smile, watching the mean glint in your eyes as you drink from your bottle again. "I'm just nosy, that's all," Shiba shrugs, laughing again, and you seem to buy it. It's enough for him.

“Well, then,” you finish your beer and cut through his laugh, voice lower and smoother, moving in closer to him, nearly locking him against the kitchen counter, “you didn’t just come here to check up on me, did you?”

There is a glint of playful malice in your eyes that matches the dripping lust in your tone. For a moment a voice in his mind says that maybe he did, that he wanted to see you, that he came seeking a solace beyond sexual pleasure. But he brushes it aside, not like he would have the guts to tell you the truth.

So Shiba just smiles back, matching your energy, finishing his drink before sneaking one arm around your waist, the other pushing him off of the counter. His lips falls to yours in a dance he has mapped in his brain, just as much as the path to your bedroom. It’s all force of habit now, a rhythm he knows better than the beating of his heart.

It’s only when he pushes you into the bed that Shiba dares to break the kiss, but only for a moment as his eyes take you in. You looked gorgeous, work clothes, messy hair. That was how he usually found you when he came seeking your warmth. The magic of the sight didn’t fade even as he got used to it. Worse, it became like an addiction, he started seeking it more and more, playing the dangerous game of turning this casual thing into a habit.

But he can’t give himself time to think, so he doesn’t dare taking too long to drink in the view, quickly sinking back into your mouth, locking you between him and the bed. You throw your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer, bodies emanating heat despite the clothes in the way as your kisses grow hungrier and sloppier.

You make out in the soft bed, Shiba’s hands squeezing your flesh through the fabric, your thighs rubbing against the crotch of his pants as you squirm under him. Outside, the cold rain still washes over the city, the sound of water droplets drumming against the windows, filling the background. But inside it’s hot, your bodies generating more than enough heat to keep you both warm.

It doesn’t take long for Shiba to start wanting more, more of your smell, your heat, the contact with your skin. His hands start pulling your clothes away just as you tug at the buttons of his shirt, both freeing each other from the thin layers that separate you, clothes hazardly tossed onto the floor as he climbs on top of you, pulling out his boxers. The moment his cock is free, you lift your hips and rub your pussy against it, coating his hard length in your wetness as your arms pull him closer down.

He brings his lips back to yours, locking you together in a kiss once more, his fingers digging into the skin of your hips as he aligns himself with your entrance. With one fluid motion Shiba pushes himself into your waiting pussy. You both shiver and moan into the kiss as he slides all the way in, sheathing himself balls deep into you, staying still for a moment as pleasure floods his mind.

Shiba breaks away from the kiss for a moment as he starts to move, grunting lowly at the feeling as his thick cock stretches your walls. You gasp in return, but pulls him by his neck back into a sloppy kiss, one which he is just far too happy to comply. Your bodies move in sync, sweat pooling where his skin touches yours, your arms locked around his shoulders and neck keeping him so terribly close.

It’s almost criminal the way your bodies fit together so well. That someone who should only be a casual fling can make his body feel so much ecstasy should be forbidden. You two move together in a sinful dance of hungry lips and roaming hands, your pussy sucking him back in every time he pulls out and making the most sinful wet noises whenever he sinks back to the hilt.

Messy kisses turn into moans and bites, roaming hands into sinking nails marking his skin a tender red as moves faster and faster. All pretense of thought getting lost as both of your minds reel from the pleasure, instincts taking over, driving you to move faster, harder, making it so that there is nothing in the room but you both, and the pleasure that makes you one.

This is a short lived respite, but Shiba laps at it without question.

Madness grips at his mind with the way your pussy tightens against his hard shaft with every thrust. He holds himself above you with one hand, the other roaming the already well know map of your curves, the shape of your body one he is sure he could never erase from his mind. You move in sync with him, fingers grazing over his worn out muscles, tracing the path from his broad shoulders to his strong chest.

You feel so incomprehensibly good around his cock, as if you were made for him, just for him. Shiba curses in a whisper above your mouth, biting and sucking at the tender flesh of your lips. By this point you two are barely even kissing, lips and tongues in a frenetic mess that grows wilder by the minute. You dig one hand into his hair, tugging at his locks, sending a jolt of electricity all over his body, bringing him even closer to the edge.

Your moans grow louder, legs locking around his hips, forcing him to move deeper and deeper, thrusting into you in wave like motions that have you both shuddering. It’s wrong how good you feel, how perfect your lips taste, how every noise you make shakes him to the core. The closer you get to your orgasm, the more desperate you get, and the more it reels him in too.

It doesn’t take too long for Shiba to start picking up his pace, chasing both of your orgasms with the voracious movements of his hips. The rhythm he sets has you whimpering and him grunting like a beast, his body snapping into yours with power as he fucks you fast and deep, continuously hitting your sweet spot. You are shuddering under him, crying out his name in ways that make his cock twitch and pulsate every time.

When your orgasm finally hits you your whole body tenses, pulling him even closer as you moan out his name loud and clear. Your walls tighten around Shiba, trying to milk his trembling erection, making him grunt and speed up, precum already leaking and mixing with your wetness. His thrusts are erratic as he kisses and bites at your neck, feeling the coil in his gut grow tighter and tighter until it snaps, white flooding his vision.

With a silent moan, Shiba sinks himself as deep as he can go. Sloppy sounds flood the room as he buries himself to the hilt as his cock spams inside you, flooding your pussy with thick ropes of white creamy cum. He is left breathless on top of you, face nuzzled into the crook of your neck as you both feel exhausted and utterly shaken by the pleasure. If Shiba could be granted a wish, he’d wish to stay like this forever.

But he doesn't have forever, so he takes right now - for however long that lasts. You two still stay in bed for a while, naked and lost in the physical high. The room smells like sex and rain as a light silence reigns.

When you first speak it's to crack some joke, he laughs, enjoying the way you laugh along with him. The sound is music to his ears, just as much as the tone of your voice as you two chat, it's so comfortable and natural and it makes him feel at home. Oh, how he wishes he could stay like this, forget the past, and not worry about tomorrow.

"Ya know, by this point, you'd usually be leaving already. Ain't I holding you up from something?"

Your tentative question breaks his wishful thinking, making him turn to find your deep eyes set on him, gaze intense, brows furrowed. His heart breaks a little but he hides it. Maybe through all his wishing he forgot you might not want the same thing. It was just a fling after all.

"I mean," you pause for a second, eyes never leaving his, gaze boring holes in his soul, "shouldn't you be babysitting some vengeful teenager?"

Your voice is so quiet, it feels nearly hesitant. Shiba doesn't try to dwell on it too much though, at the end of the day you are right. He should leave, his daydreams matter very little when faced with reality. And the reality is that he can't stay - he shouldn't stay, lest he worsens his already wounded heart.

"Ah, that's true," he laughs, trying his best to make it reach his eyes. "Better get going, don't want Chihiro calling me out of the blue while I'm naked."

Shiba drinks in the sound of your giggles as he picks up his things. You watch like a hawk as he gets dressed, not even bothering to dress up or even cover yourself. You really were just comfortable like that - which made sense, you were at home. This was your home, and that's why he should leave.

"Shiba, make sure to come back again, okay?" You ask, just as he finishes dressing up and is ready to make his way out through a path he knows all too well. "Show up on the next rainy day, maybe you could even be the one to give me a ride this time?"

You wink with a smile and Shiba's heart skips a beat. Oh, the cruelty, and now you got him yearning for a dream again.

[simpsarcade]

⊙ you can call me maria, I'm kind of a tired and slow writer, trying to work, exercise and have a social life aside from all this, so please be patient

⊙ I’m an adult and this blog will contain mature themes, possibly including dark content, so minors, please take your leave. usually I write characters as being in their mid 20s at least, independent of canon, even for non smut stuff

⊙ I’m brazilian, bisexual and mixed race black. so given all that, and how I’m not particularly feminine, I never fit very well into the default fem reader for fics, so in this blog I try to be as vague as possible in my reader descriptions, and I try to cater to people who, like me, don’t really fit the expected general fem reader, a lot of times this leads my no smut fics to fit a genderless reader

⊙ I have a tendency to write fem readers who tend towards though and badass, so this might not be the best place to ask for a soft or naive reader. on the same note, also not the best place to ask for hyperfem stuff like coquette or bimbo, nothing against it, I just don’t think I’m good at writing that

⊙ I’m pretty open with my blocking policies, so be warned. I give myself the right to block based on vibes, or on content I just don’t wanna see. also again this is a mature blog, not only in having 18+ content, but as in you need to know how to separate fiction from reality. I'll block if you don't.

⊙ I don’t really need to say I don’t allow plagiarism, but also I am not comfortable with the translation of my works (unless you ask me and I give you explicit concent). sorry, some of those things come from my own life and experiences, so I prefer having more control over the

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what the whole "please comment on fic you like, it will encourage more writing" vs. "fic writers shouldn't be writing for engagement and validation" debate fails to really grasp, for me, is that comments shouldn't be boiled down to "engagement and validation" in the first place. by which i mean: comments aren't payment for a service, they are communication and connection. they represent the audience reaching back.

i don't write just for myself. are you kidding me? the point of storytelling, to me, is to present certain narrative arguments and produce or encourage an emotional response to them. That communication is essentially useless if there's no endpoint, no listener. To me, there is no point if I'm not communicating with someone. When I write, I am talking to a reader. If you've read anything I've written, then I was talking TO YOU.

you are well within your right to consume fic as ~content~ and withhold your "payment" out of a sense that the writer should be satisfied at having created anything at all in an unresponsive void. but please be aware that it feels really good when you talk back.

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New Gokurakugai illustration to commemorate Volume 1 and Volume 2 reprints.

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So a few days ago I got a comment on one of my stories. It was not the worst comment I have ever gotten but it was not nice either. I found it rude, demanding, and condescending. I confess, my reply to this comment was snarky and sarcastic.

I then got a reply from the poster claiming they were very blunt due to being neurodivergent and that they could not help it. They just wanted me to write them a story. I had ruined their good opinion of me.

I wrote back apologizing for hurting their feelings. I explained they had also hurt my feelings and that my response was partially in response to that, partially because I know who comments like that affect authors. That we work hard on our stories. I pointed out they had not even said they liked my story. I gave them advice on how they could have phrased their comment instead that would have made it less offensive to the author. At this point I was going to give them the benefit of the doubt. Yeah no, they sent another response calling it victim blaming and cyber bullying. The victim blaming was pointed out solely in response to the first line they said which was 'I am sorry your feelings were hurt' Also got an accusation of name calling, which no I did not. At this point I am just going to delete their comments and block them.

For people who consider themselves to be blunt but want to consider the author's feelings as well, here is some comment advice. The comment I received that started this was 0/4.

Tell the author you liked their story. You can put details or even just a line of heart emojis. If you did not like the story, silence is golden. Please use the back button.

Do not be demanding. We are not machines. Something like, 'I can't wait to see what happens' next is fine 'UPDATE' is not

It is fine to share ideas, but just like in 2. do not be demanding. Unless the author has asked for prompts, do not have expectations

Unless an author has asked for it, no constructive criticism. It is fiction, let the author write what they want.

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Is it just me or has a lot of fandom forgotten what "AU" means? It's short for Alternate Universe. I keep seeing people talking about, like, "fake dating AU" or "only one bed AU." Unless your characters exist in a world where a) beds don't exist or b) beds exist in such abundance there could not POSSIBLY be only one of them, that's not an AU. It's just a regular degular story.

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Mr Shiba seems to be realizing the situation they’re in and the damage Chihiro’s revenge quest is doing to him for perhaps the first time. He didn’t crack a joke once and he was pleading in his own way, even made silent apologies to Samura and Rokuhira.