Jjk fans need to s’stop s’writing s’like s’this s'like s'why s'are we slurring our words.
No, Toji would call anyone ma’, Gojo would not cheat, and Geto is not a woman. And some of you guys copy Tonicries to the point where you don't write each character with unique individual dialogue accurate to their canon character, we don't want to read the same thing over and over again. When writing an AU you are simply placing a character into another setting besides their original, AUs and gendebent stories can be done right all the time, its just that when mischaraterization goes so far it can turn into fanfiction for an oc
And PLEASE stop using aave (African American Vernacular English) incorrectly, do some research about female anatomy and actually read and watch JJK because what the fuck do you mean “they use their cursed techniques on you during sex” that wouldn't work at all, cursed techniques are intended for fighting and not intimacy, the larp needs to stop.
Honestly if you read non-con and just love the thought of being raped, don't dare to write some bullshit like “I'm not romanticising rspe or sexual assault” yes you are.
And what the hell is up with some of you PEDOPHILIES, yes pedophiles, with writing aged up stories of teenagers and then having the audacity to put “MDNI”
And what the fuck is up with some of you niggas and non-con, yes I am kink shaming, I just saw a post saying that it doesn't matter if you like a bad character because they are fictional, have you never heard of the slenderman case? So is it not wrong to think bad of a person who says that they resonate with a rapist character or a misogynistic character and that the character is really complex and that they can understand them because they are just so misunderstood.
Another thing is, its Satoru not Saturo, Geto not Getou, AND ITS GOJO NOT GOJOU.
Reposting this because some of yall didnt get my point (it was one bitch)
There is a massive difference between a story using dark themes as a serious plot device, and a fandom romanticizing sexual assault for self-insert fantasies while misusing AAVE, ignoring basic anatomy, and flattening unique character dialogue.
I am simply asking for better quality, originality, and constructive criticism in fanfiction spaces.
Art References in Jujutsu Kaisen s3 opening: The Kiss - Gustav Klimt // The Scream - Edvard Munch // Ophelia - John Everett Millais // Dead mother l - Egon Schiele // Two Sleeping Children - Peter Paul Rubens // Camille Monet and a Child in the Artist's Garden in Argenteuil - Claude Monet // The Three Judges - Honoré Victorin Daumier
Khan Younis… a city overwhelmed by displacement, suffocating under the weight of tents and silent screams.Families fleeing from one danger into another, with nothing but broken dreams and borrowed blankets.
Children are starving. Mothers spend the day searching for crumbs. Fathers are shadows of themselves, carrying pain they can’t express. No clean water. No food. No medicine.
This is not a page from history — this is now. In Khan Younis. In the dust and mud, among torn tents and empty pots.
Hunger is the only language left. The cries are loud, even if the world has stopped listening.
Please, don’t turn away. Every share, every donation can help.
My name is Motaz, and my wife is Huda. We got married only three months before the war. We d… Adam M needs your support for Help Feed & Hous
summary: osomatsu may be greedy, lazy and altogether kind of a scum bag but there’s always one person who doesn’t mind. he wants you so bad he ended up in front of your house in a drunken stupor.
tropes: one-sided attraction, pining, first kiss, drunken confessions, confessions
warnings: alcohol usage, may be a lil ooc
Knock Knock Knock
“Y/n! Y/n~!! Open the door!” Osomatsu yells from outside your door.
Knock knock-
You open the door to see a plastered Osomatsu leaning against your door. His face burned a bright red as he held a grin on his face.
“Are you okay?” You asked helping Osomatsu to your couch lightly kicking the door shut. This wasn’t the first time he came to your house when he was drunk. To be honest he never gave you a reason when you asked either. He always derailed the question with another absurd topic to match.
“You care so much about me.. why?” Osomatsu asked staring off in front of him. The tension in the room rose making you stand up to find him a blanket and pillow.
“Because you’re my friend Osomatsu, friends care about each other.” You sigh into the still air. Crickets chirped outside as silence once again filled the room. Just friends.. yeah.. that’s what you guys were. You knew deep down you wanted more but Osomatsu usually verbalized what he does and doesn’t like; not saying that he said you’re not his type but.. from what you seen you aren’t his type either.
“Yea but why? What do you like about me specifically?” Osomatsu said getting up from the couch and grabbing the blankets from out of your hands gently. As he took the blankets he looked to you with an unrecognizable expression.
“Well Osomatsu, I think you’re the funniest of your brothers, I like how you’re usually blunt and straightforward and deep down I can tell you’re really caring.” As you answered he slipped into silence before walking back to the living room with the blanket he had took from your hands. Although the more silence seemed to seep through every crack of your house you stopped and thought.
‘Osomatsu is usually more upbeat and cheerful.. even when he is drunk’
You continue looking through your cabinet for a spare pillow for another 5 minutes before heading back in the living room to see Osomatsu already comfy on the couch spread out. His right leg hangs off the couch as the other is planted on the couch, the blanket draped over him and the couch.
“Hey Osomatsu are.. are you okay? You usually don’t ask stuff like that when you’re drunk?” You asked for Osomatsu to look you in your eyes with his drunken, indescribable stare.
“You’re so out of my league,” Osomatsu bluntly sighs before continuing to flip through channels. Your face flushed at his comments. You continue to stand behind the couch as he finally picks a show trying to figure out how to respond to him.
“You’re so fuckin fine! I’m surprised you aren’t dating so rich fuck or someone as hot as you,” he continues seeming to carry off on his own. The more he spoke the more he revealed.
“I’ve wanted you for so long now,” he sighed focusing on watching the show. You stand there and watch it for a little bit before Osomatsu begins shuffling around.
“Are you gonna stand behind me like a creep or are you gonna sit?” He laughed catching you off guard. His words process before you finally move to sit where he made room. It started out somewhat normal before you yawned.
“Are you tired, I’m about to crash if you wanna just sleep with me.” He said with his usual grin plastered on his face. Your face begins to heat up growing in redness and warmth. You hear the couch shift before hesitating.
“Please y/n, I can’t get you out of my head.” Osomatsu muttered low, almost desperate enough to sound like a whimper. You fold laying with him on the couch so your back was pressing against his chest.
“..what do you mean osomatsu?” You said trying to process what he had said to you. You stare off thinking about it until his arms gently slip around your waist. Way different than the way he would touch you when he’s sober. Osomatsu was a pervert at heart and when he was sober he certainly showed it. He never groped you or anything but sometimes you noticed his hands would slide just above your ass and put his head on your shoulder.
“.. talk about it in the morning,” he mumbled moving closer to cuddle with you. Tension had you strung high at first until you sat and realized how much you loved Osomatsu’s touch, his confidence, the way he kept your attention, and his warmth he always seemed to have. As you drifted off to sleep you hear Osomatsu’s soft mumbles in your ear.
Birds chirp as daylight shines through the living room curtains. You squint your eyes at the sudden bright light realizing you were still in Osomatsu’s arms. The red flush on your face returns as you look up that the clock.
8:54 am
You yawn and attempt to stretch before escaping Osomatsu’s grasp. From the times before he automatically assumes you’ll make food for him, which you would, but you also have to make more of it because of his gluttony. He loved your food, especially after drinking the night away and sleeping it off on your comfortable couch instead of sharing with his annoying brothers.
You crack your back before sleepily stumbling your way to your bathroom so you can shower and brush your teeth. In your shower you thought more about what he said. He wants you, he can’t get you out of his head, he walks all the way to your house knowing it’s farther than his just to go to sleep.
You get out of the shower, steam filling the room and slip into your room to get dressed for the day. After you had finished your morning routine you began cooking omelettes for you and Osomatsu.
“Aww look at you make me food like a house wife,” Osomatsu snickered in as he walked to your side to watch you cook. It’s another thing he always did that seemed like it served no purpose. You know he’s not watching to learn. None the less you flush at his comment and push away from him playfully.
As you season the egg osomatsu breaks away to look through the cabinet for anything to snack on. The two of you sit in silence with nothing but the sound of you cooking and Osomatsu rummaging in cabinets being heard until you broke the silence.
“Oso was.. everything you said to me.. true? When you came home yesterday?” You ask, worry painting over your face as you hear him stop moving for a moment. It was something so small, so minuscule but it made his chest flutter. You said it like this was his house too.
“Yeah… are you mad?” Osomatsu asked before closing the cabinets. He watched the expression on your face.
“N-no.. I was actually hoping you were telling the truth.” You sigh a shaky breath feeling all of your nerves tighten all at once at his response. You hear nothing until Osomatsu moves to push you against the counter. He wasn’t rough but you could tell there was desire motivating his action. As the small of your back pressed against the counter he towered over you with a wide smile.
“You’ll be my girlfriend? Finally~” he said moving his face closer to yours.
“You know how to kiss?” Osomatsu asked for you to nod. He rushed to finally close the gap between the two of you, his hands exploring your waist and find their way to your ass before squeezing.
You taught him how to kiss with tongue. Originally you were the dominant one but the tables turn when Osomatsu finally catches on to the momentum. The two of you separate after a while and catch your breath as the two of you looking into eachother eyes, Osomatsu’s traveling down your body.
“Do you think the kiss was good enough to get me food~?” Osomatsu asked for you to sigh and chuckle.
You laugh and nod sliding past him to continue cooking. He follows but instead of there being distance his arms wrap around your waist as he looked over your shoulder at what you were doing.
Bonus Scene
“Guess who just tongued his girl down!!” Osomatsu yells as he slams the doors to his parents house open.
A collection of sounds come from his younger brothers, from groans to sighs, all being unhappy with his volume.
“Osomatsu you don’t even have a girlfriend-“ Choromatsu rolls his eyes and goes back to reading his manga before it’s snatched from his hands and replaces with Osomatsu’s phone.
“Read and weep virgin loser.” Osomatsu says proudly. He watched Choromatsu’s eyes widen as he reads the texts.
“You’re dating y/n??? How’d you even bag that??” Choromatsu yells as the other brothers gather around the phone to read you and Osomatsu’s text messages.
•.•.•.•
oso: You wanna come to my house today right?
y/n: yea are your brothers home?
oso: no
y/n: ur lyin, karamatsu just sent me a picture of his clothes in the closet.
oso: .. they don’t need to be here
y/n: relax I’ll be with you anyway 😭😭
oso: .. as long as I get to see you lookin all sexy
y/n: goodbye oso😭 I love you
oso: I love you and your sexy ass too ❤️
•.•.•.•
“… lucky bastard.” Ichimatsu sucks his teeth and mutters before going back to what they were doing. They would’ve thought of a plan to break them up but.. y/n knows them too well.
Author Notes: Hey guys!! Nexus here, please don’t mind my writing.. haven’t written in a while but I’m picking it back up. Lmk what you want to see next. Reblogging and sharing is very appreciated, I love you all and I’ll continue to write for my other characters.
I might rewrite this 4 my big comeback as soon as I learn how to edit 4 my banners n shi. On that topic tho, what do yall be using to dec out yall profiles???
you're lying back on the bed, sheets rumpled beneath as your body hums with anticipation. nanami positions himself between your spread thighs, his strong hands grab your hips, pulling you closer, the tip of his thick cock pressing against your cunt. he pushes in slowly, the stretch burning sweetly as your pussy yields to his girth, inch after inch filling you up. you gasp, clutching the pillows, your walls clenching around him instinctively.
"is it all in yet?" you whisper breathlessly, eyes wide as you look up to him, feeling so full already but yet craving more.
kento pauses, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest, while his gaze darkens with lust. he reaches for your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours before guiding your hand down between your bodies. gently but firmly, he wraps your palm around the base of his cock—the part that's still exposed, hot and veined, throbbing against your skin. "not even close," he murmurs, voice husky, thrusting his hips just enough to slide another inch inside you, making you moan as your fingers feel the slick between your bodies.
your hand trembles around him, feeling the length that remains, the way it pulses with need. he holds your hand there, letting you stroke the exposed shaft while he rocks deeper, your pussy stretching further to accommodate him. the sensation of your own fingers brushing against your clit as you grab around him sends sparks straight through your core. nanami groans, his free hand pinning your wrist lightly, controlling the pace as he sinks in more.
after what feels like an eternity, his hips finally meet yours, his entire cock buried to the hilt inside you. he releases your hand, leaning down to claim your mouth in a searing kiss just as he starts to move—pulling out halfway before slamming back in. you wrap your legs around his waist, urging him on, your pussy dripping around him with each thrust.
"been wanting to do this for so fucking long," he gasps as his hand slides up to pinch your nipple, rolling it between his fingers while the other braces beside your head. you arch into him, the coil in your stomach tightening as his cock drags through your most sensitive spots, hitting deep and hard. "feel that?" he growls against your lips. "all mine now."
Hello, my name is Nadin. I’m from Gaza. I’m a graphic design graduate, a wife—and now, a mother.
I finished my design studies just before the war began. I had dreams of starting a small studio, of creating art that told stories. I used to think about colors and fonts and the future.
Then, the war came. And the future became something we tried to hold onto, moment by moment.
On October 22, 2023, I learned I was pregnant when a missile destroyed my husband’s family home, killing 25 members—his mother, siblings, nieces and nephews—entire branches of our family in seconds.
We were displaced twice. Everything was gone—home, safety, routine, rest.
A few weeks later, I gave birth to our daughter. There was no crib, no celebration—not even stillness. But she arrived, quietly and beautifully. In her eyes I saw something I hadn’t felt in weeks: life that still wanted to grow.
Now, our days are shaped by decisions that could dismantle the future we are trying to build together.
Today, Israel’s government is discussing plans for a full military occupation of the Gaza Strip, including Gaza City and southern regions. The stated aim: to eliminate Hamas and later hand governing control to allied Arab forces—not Israel—but with no clear path to peace or normalcy.
The humanitarian fallout is devastating. More than 61,000 Palestinians have died in this war; hunger and malnutrition are rising sharply. Hospitals in north Gaza have shut down, and 193 people have now died of starvation, nearly half of them children.
Aid remains blocked, water is scarce, and many risk dying of hunger or disease long before future promises arrive.
We Don’t Know What Comes Next
There’s no clear path forward—only uncertainty for our daughter’s life and our ability to survive another day.
My name is Nadin, and I’m a mother from Gaza.
How You Can Help
I’m asking for support—not for comfort, but for survival:
Help us meet basic needs so we can breathe, heal, and preserve a world for our daughter.
Support us as I try to stand again on my own feet—even a glimmer of stability matters.
If you’ve read this far, thank you. If you can give—thank you. If you can’t—just sharing this post is a lifeline I will never forget.
And what if rap WAS only about sex, violence, and drugs... what then? Would you be justified in looking down upon it as not being "real" art? What would your justification be? Sex is immoral and taboo? Drugs should never be mentioned outside of D.A.R.E programs? Songs about violence turn children to it? Would you turn that standard to other genres as well? I know you wouldn't, I know you haven't, because it's never really been about the topics explored.
18+ how to sexually harass your hot law professor, higuruma !
1. HRSS 1O1 : YA LIKE MY TIDDIES, PROF ?
law professor! higuruma hiromi is lecturing a class on courtroom ethics while you sit front row & flash your tits in his face.
let me rephrase: professor higuruma is pressed tweed suit / half-loosened tie / hair damp & sticky with afternoon sweat. you’re a third year law school student with translucent excuse for a button-up shirt & an ego bruised from being rejected by your law professor one too many times.
it’s always “you’re too young,” or “this is inappropriate.” never ‘yes y/n, i’d love to put my balls in your jaw !’
so you take matters into your own hands.
no one who’s anyone attends the 4PM lectures. so when higuruma hiromi watches you stroll in at 4:11 PM sharp, hair tied back & blazer on & looking uncharacteristically presentable, professor higuruma can’t hide the way his eyes flit to you & back to the half-empty class again. suspicious.
you sit front row & center. hiromi doesn’t react.
not until you’re flashing your breasts in his face, that is.
sweat beads on your perky nipples & you can only thank the midsummer heat. higuruma hiromi is staring—wide-eyed now, as his least favorite, much too perverted student pinches her nipples with her thumb & index & gives them a good rub for him to see.
& because that’s not enough—it never is with you—you have the audacity to soak your fingers in the wetness of your tongue & play with your pebbled nipples right in his face! two rows to your left in the half-empty classroom is a boy named mike ross who’s caught on to what you’re doing yet keeps his eyes trained straight. he’s just here to graduate. what the fuck is happening?
“class is dismissed. you may all leave.”
the lecture soon comes to an end. you’re packed books & buttoned blazer now, boobs tucked away & the picture of perfection.
“not you, y/n,” you freeze.
“meet me in my office in five.”
2. HRSS 2O1 : TUMBLR SMUT ABOUT YOUR LAW PROFESSOR ? SRSLY ?
professor higuruma isn’t paid enough for this.
that’s what he concludes as he fails the nth essay of the night. it’s 9:15 pm & he’s in the discomfort of his home, back bent over his desk & blue light glasses perched low on the hook of his nose.
one more paper to grade before he goes to bed tonight. that’s what he tells himself, at least.
and behold, the paper is yours! law professor higuruma hiromi knows he should save himself the trouble & give you a big fat F. girls like you are only good at picking slutty skirts & bending over just far enough that he can get the perfect view of your ass mid-lecture. not writing reports or drafting thesis statements.
but law demands fairness, so higuruma opens the document anyways.
LAWP-302 — THE BURDEN OF PROOF : PROXIMATE CAUSE IN PERSONAL INJURY CASES.
beyond the title, the document is completely empty.
hiromi higuruma counts himself lucky. empty doc means earlier bedtime. so before closing his laptop & putting his things away, he reopens your assignment thread to send a new email:
———-
Subject: RE: RE: LAWP-302 RESEARCH PAPER
From: [L/N], [Y/N]
To: Higuruma, Hiromi
helloooo professor here’s my research paper!!! finally on time for once :p if u don’t mind could u call me a good girl for my efforts??
xoxo,
[Y/N] 💘💓
————-
hiromi winces. he’d already had the misfortune of reading your email before, but accidentally skimming it a second time makes his stomach curl with disgust. he purses his lip, nose scrunched, glasses slipping down his cheek as he steadies the keyboard.
———-
Subject: RE: LAWP-302 RESEARCH PAPER
From: Higuruma, Hiromi
To: [L/N], [Y/N]
Y/N,
Your submitted assignment was completely empty. Lucky for you, there is still a day to the deadline. Complete the paper and resubmit as soon as possible.
Also, you are a student of a prestigious law school. It is expected your assignments are completed in due time, and I will not “praise” you for your “efforts.” They are expected, and asking me to call you a ‘good girl’ is extremely inappropriate. Not that you seem to care about what’s inappropriate and what’s not.
I’ve also told you to stop emailing me with such casual language. Signing your name with heart emojis is extremely informal and inappropriate. I can only issue so many warnings. May God’s plan for your life be bigger than your breasts, else I can assure that you will never make it.
Higuruma Hiromi
———-
hiromi sighs, body limp & bone heavy. perhaps the late-night frustration has gotten to him—he knows he should delete the last part, but his thumb slips (or not?) & he sends it anyways.
he’s about to close his laptop when an email notification pings. he makes the mistake of refreshing his page, & unfortunately the email comes from you.
———-
Subject: RE: RE: LAWP-302 RESEARCH PAPER
From: [L/N], [Y/N]
To: Higuruma, Hiromi
Professor 😟,
whatttt are u doing awake at this time. not that i’m complaining!! if you’re emailing me this late because you’ve FINALLY decided you’re interested in me & my big breasts (i’m so glad you noticed their size! the fenugreek must be working 😇), you can message me at 42-42-564 <3333
alsoooo my bad i think i sent the wrong draft </3. the actual paper is attached below!!
night night prof 🌙💤
[Y/N] 😇☺️ (no heart emojis this time bcoz im a good girl :)
——-
law professor higuruma hiromi doesn’t get paid enough for this.
that’s what he tells himself for the third time today. he chooses not to respond to your email, instead opening up the file to get things over with. it’s nearly midnight now & the chill of his office is unforgiving, but with red nose & freezing fingertips hiromi opens up the doc regardless.
at this point, higuruma hiromi should shut his laptop & retreat to bed. this is clearly not your research paper, & whatever you write in your free time is none of his business.
but his name in the first paragraph catches his eye.
“hahh—hiromi,” you whine, a mess of shaky thighs & flushed cheeks. “can’t do it—need your help, please”
higuruma only grips your hips harder, big hands bruising at your thighs. he wastes no time lapping at the juices that spill from your achey cunt, giving your pussy a wet lick before his head tilts back so his nose digs right into your puffy clit. above him you’re half dressed & fucked dumb, mouth hung open & boobs spilling from your bra cup. you’re writhing on his nose, but hiromi doesn’t fucking care.
“you asked for this, no?” his voice is hungry, guttural. “ride, baby.”
what the fuck?
now, professor higuruma should definitely stop reading. he can already feel heat crawling up his throat & itching at his ears. he should step back. mark the document as "Inappropriate Content" & forward it to the disciplinary board. say a prayer & repent, if you will.
instead, his eyes snag the last sentence of the page.
hiromi pulls back, breathless & sticky with your slick, to look at the mess he’s made of his favorite student.
”good girl,’ he murmurs, “look how much you’ve leaked for your professor.”
he slams his laptop shut.
and his heart hammers with a rhythm that has nothing to do with justice. he knows monday will come, & so will your slutty skirts, half buttoned tops, shaky thighs—
he’ll have to see you in his office again. & he knows—with a sorry sense of dread—that it won’t be to fail you.
3. HRSS 3O1 : GET ‘EM BANNED !
monday comes & so does your slutty skirt.
it’s 5PM midsummer & the office air is sticky with heat. a fan hangs heavy in the center, creaky & aching, just loud enough to mask how hard hiromi’s shoe taps against the wooden floor.
in front of him you’re bright smile & pink nose & lace bra peeking from your button-up. hiromi doesn’t let his eyes dip. he doesn’t know how you’re beaming—perhaps it wasn’t clear he’d called you into his office for literal sexual harassment.
“professor,” you coo. “is this about my email on friday? you’re taking up that offer about my breasts?”
two desks to the left, history professor nanami kento clears his throat. on the opposite side is professor giyu tomioka who isn’t paid enough for this & just fucking leaves.
higuruma clears his throat, skin itchy. “i have no idea what you’re talking about, y/n. mind your mouth while in my presence.”
“did you read the smut fic i wrote about you?”
nanami exits the office.
hiromi drags his palm over his face; tired, weary, utterly embarrassed. in all his years of teaching never had he encountered a student as shameless & perverted as you, & even now he’s pretty sure you’re turned on by his exasperation as well because your skirt crinkles from your thighs squeezing beneath his desk. god.
& perhaps hiromi is equally perverted; because some sick, twisted part of him, the part that likes watching you bend over for him to see your panties dig into your pussy, or the part that likes stroking his dick to the memory of you palming your pebbled nipples that one day of class—doesn’t hate it. & he really should. & he really ought to teach you a lesson for fucking with his head & riling him up the way you do.
“professorr,” you sing-song, patting your chest shamelessly. “my breasts? you wanted to take up my offer, right?”
“enough.”
his voice bangs like gavel, and the sound shocks you—he knows because you’re looking up at him now with flushed cheeks & glossy eyes. like you’d never expected him to actually get mad.
and to make things worse, your thighs are squeezing like you like it.
and in that moment, hiromi decides he will take you up on that offer. he’s towering now, jaw tight, palms firm on the mahogany table.
“strip.”
and you waste no time, honestly. hiromi can tell you’re excited, even though you bite your cheek like you’re trying not to show it. your fingers are clumsy against your button-up, pathetic & half-shaky, and hiromi wastes no time before leaning over & snapping your shirt open himself. you let out a squeak as he unclasps your bra. cute.
but he doesn’t lower himself to your perky nipples—nope. higuruma hiromi would rather die than give you exactly what you want. he grabs you by the hair & forces you over his desk instead.
“professor—“
“quiet.”
but girls like you are stubborn as fuck & whine against him anyways. higuruma decides he has no time for that—his palm shifts from your hip to your mouth, keeping you shut & steady against him as he fiddles with his belt. god, you’re already writhing against him, ass rubbing against his already hardened cock. & hiromi doesn’t groan—he’d rather die than give you the satisfaction—so he bites his lip & ignores the taste of blood in his mouth instead.
“f-fuck…”
hiromi takes his sweet time. only his boxers separate you now, clothed dick dragging up your cunt. and he goes slow, painfully slow, like he’s punishing you for all the times you got him rock hard mid lecture & he had to jerk himself off with only the image of your panties digging into your folds or your perky nipples glistening in the fluorescent light.
you’re moaning against his palm now, voice a muffled, damp mess. your hips jerking against his cock make his thighs twitch. god, he’s wanted this so long.
and he finally decides to give it to you.
his dick practically springs from his boxers, heavy & thick & dripping with precum. fuck, he’s aching, practically twitching to get inside you. fuck fuck fuck.
“inside—“ you groan into his hand. “please,”
he’s barely done anything & you’re already a whiny mess! god, what a pervert you are. and hiromi would be a liar if he said he didn’t like it. his palms grip you roughly, lining you up & pressing into your back so you lean far enough to give him the perfect view of your ass.
hiromi doesn’t let you slip your skirt & panties off beforehand because he likes the idea of your skirt fluttering around each time he digs inside you. who says he can’t be a pervert, too?
and he does exactly that, bony fingers sliding your panties over your cunt. & you’re already soaked, wet & sticky so when he slips his fingers aside they’re already dripping with slick.
hiromi doesn’t give you time to adjust.
you don’t deserve it, so he simply doesn’t give it to you. he slides himself in, teeth gritting as your pussy flutters & grips him much tighter than he expected. truth be told, he hadn’t expected your aching cunt to give him such a hard time. dumb sluts like you came easy & pre-stretched, right ?
& he’s half-right, because your folds adjust to him. eventually. just when he lets his palm shift from your hip to your breast to grope them roughly & caress your nipples with his fingers. & god you squeeze with every rub, & you feel so fucking good & hiromi’s not sure how he didn’t give into your pretty pussy much sooner.
well he’s here now, & he wastes no time ramming into you. he digs in deep, hands working your perky nipples as he thrusts into your aching cunt. & he can barely muffle your moans now & he should be concerned about someone walking in but how can he when your whiny moans all go straight to his dick?
& because hiromi’s not easily satisfied, his right hand leaves your lips & sinks to your thighs instead. & god you’re so wet, & he only dips his hand to finger your swollen nub but you’re already a sloppy mess on his palm & fuck he loves it. loves how your ass twitches & hips jerk as his fingers graze your clit, fast & rough, like girls like you don’t deserve warm pace & gentleness.
“hah—ah…hiromi!”
you squeeze him tight, walls pulsing & hips stuttering against him. he thumbs your sensitive clit even harder through your high, thumb digging as you spasm & twitch against him, palms still heavy on your perky nipples. & only when you relax against him, pussy still fluttering, does he slip out his cock to cum on your ass with heavy pants & a breathy “fuck.”
girls like you don’t deserve aftercare or ‘are you okay?’ so hiromi doesn’t give it to you. he’s already buckled belt & smoothed out hair in his seat, watching with lazy eyes as you struggle to shift your skirt over your ass.
you’re still buttoning your shirt when you beam,
“see, prof? that wasn’t so bad, was it?”
except it was, & the post-nut clarity hits him like a bullet. fuck. he should’ve never let a perverted thing like you get under his skin.
hiromi breathes, pulls a drawer from his desk. “i have something for you.”
