Lordss Ur Theme & Music Taste !!

Do you play love and deep space ? If you do please do porn links for the guys also whose your favorite

id say xavier is my favorite out of them all but i stopped playing after sylus

ill work on the request though !

`· . ❛ content warnings. ❜ perverted choso kamo. voodoo. non-consensual. raw penetration. coercion. 18+ content.

choso always takes a seat behind you during art class, secretly admiring you with pragmatic, heart shaped eyes while his assignment lies forgotten. his attention is completely enthralled by you, and if anyone else saw him staring at you like that, they’d most definitely think he was a freak. he eyes your back profile, cherishing the fall of your pretty hair cascading over your shoulders and how it flows down your back, studying the way your arms extend, propped on the table to support your lean as you immerse yourself in your work.

“choso, stop staring at her and get back to work,” the professor sighs, and choso jolts out of his daze at the sudden reprimand, his focus on you breaking abruptly. you curiously turn around by the professor’s scolding, and your gaze meets a pair of flustered brown eyes. the male’s ears turn mildly red, immediately diverting his stare elsewhere. your arm jerks awkwardly at the distraction, and it causes the sharp blade of the scissors to slip, accidentally nicking your finger.

with a wince, you quickly bring your finger to your mouth and stand up from your chair to get a band-aid. choso's eyes dart to the scissors—glancing around the room before he leans over and snatches the bloodied pair.

the perfect touch to his project he was working on, and without another thought, he snugly tucks it into his bag.

. . .

you return a few minutes later, searching questioningly for the pair of scissors you were using earlier, and you even look underneath your table, but they are nowhere to be found.

how odd.

you turn to the last resource you could think of—the boy with dark hair styled into two messy buns, a few strands of hair falling loosely and framing his undeniably gorgeous features.

choso kamo, the quiet, reserved, and stereotypical hot emo guy everyone rants about.

you’ve never really talked to him, mainly because you think he’s a little weird with the constant times you’ve caught him staring at you. so, you hesitate for a moment, clearing your throat, mustering up the courage to ask him about your mysteriously missing scissors.

“hey, by any chance, have you seen my scissors?”

choso blinks, completely caught off guard as his dark eyes skim around the classroom, and for a second, he’s just dumbfounded, idiotically staring at you as if he’s fucking stupid.

“uh—i, um… no, haven’t seen them,” he straightforwardly lies, as if he hadn’t just stole them—yet, he initially trips over his words and he mentally cursed himself for sounding so slow.

you hum, not pushing it upon hearing his response, so you decide to just let it go. “okay, mind if i borrow your scissors, then?” you ask, gesturing to the untouched pair of black scissors laying on his desk as his ears start to turn red again. you smile, and you notice how, for some reason, he always gets so jittery whenever you stare back at him or, on rare occasions, talk to him.

. . .

a cloud of unease rolls into the pit of your stomach, and your fingers clench around your pen. you shift uncomfortably in your seat, and that’s when your body stiffens in your chair, thighs instinctively clenching together as you feel a large, unidentifiable object splitting your velvety walls open.

holy shit.

you instantly clasp a hand around your mouth to stifle the moan threatening to escape your ruby glossed lips. your body tenses, goosebumps prickling up your skin while the hairs on the back of your neck rise.

what the hell?

. . .

choso leans against the cool tile wall of one of the bathroom stalls, his breath coming out in choppy, short circuted breaths as his mind whirls lewd thoughts of you—you looked too damn edible for your own good. the way you spoke to him, the way you bent over as your skirt hitched up exposing the curve of your ass as the fabric hardly made efforts to cover you brought him to his knees.

his thick digits wrap around his hard-on, stroking his bulge that had been painfully aching since he'd been eye fucking you earlier in class. shit. a groan tumbles from his slightly ajar lips, his hand gripping his throbbing cock as he aligns himself with the opening between the special replica of you. he slowly pushes in, imagining your flustered expression, and the confusion evident through your knitted brows as the helplessness etches on your face when you grow aware of the sudden feeling of your walls being stretched wide open.

situated in the farthest row of desks in your psychology class, you bite back a moan as you feel a slippery stir between your legs, a fleeting sting that dispersed into bliss. choso's hands tremble, and without wasting another second he pulls back, just until his pudgy tip teased the dolls socket, lightly thrusting into the soft cotton-lined hole inside that clung onto his gooey shaft, and you feel it again—your walls contracting against something as his mushroom tip nudges your cervix.

you lean back, your spine hitting the cold surface of the backseat as your fingers grip the edge of the desk for dear life, knuckles blanching as choso works himself deeper into the doll and it syncs to you, the nirvana pulsing through your veins as the color drains from your face. a quiet gasp slips past your lips which you swiftly disguise as a cough. your eyes flicker around the room nervously, and you can palpably feel the ridges of the veins on the underside of his cock as your plush walls squeeze him, accustoming to the stretch.

his hand tightens around the doll, mimicking the tightness he craved as his shaft disappears into the fluffy fiber. your thighs clamp shut and the sudden pace fastens. subconsciously, you begin to dig your nails into the wooden planes of the table, shifting your hips and trying to ground yourself as choso pumps the doll on his rock solid length—a cry evoking his lips. he’s pathetically whimpering your name, and choso’s weak at the thought of ravishing you without even having to lay a single digit on you—the idea alone was just enough to have his knees buckling. he jerks his hips up to meet the thrust of his hand, and you can’t help the low grunts slipping past your own lips as his length drags against the ridges of your cloying, gummy walls, making it practically impossible for you to sit still.

your heart is well ahead of you, the muscles beating inside your chest rapidly, and the euphoria of his pudgy tip hitting against your hymen has your irises rolling back, tears prickling the inner corners of your vision as your windpipes expel shallow breaths. his lashes bat against the apples of his cheeks, and his raven colored orbs flutter shut. his hand pumps more aggressively on his cock—and his orgasm approaches sooner than he anticipated.

you sense it, his dick twitching inside your spongy, spasming walls before shaky hips buck forward, triggering your stomach to churn in turmoils. choso’s engorged tip kisses your hymen and his warm, creamy seed gushes into the doll, stimulating your own orgasm. your back arches forward and you struggle to remain composed with the heat pooling in the innards of your gut as your teeth gnaw at your tender-vermilion lip, another soft moan slipping from you when you feel your mixed juices dribble down your slick folds.

there are 3 stages of your drunkenness and nanami happens to love you in every one of them;

i. the first is when you want to jump him as soon as you see him.

your nimble hands are all over him; tugging on his hair, dragging over the expanse of his back, diving under his shirt, grabbing at his buttocks — all the while your lips are hungrily lapping at the skin of his neck, leaving sloppy trails of drool behind and barely there hickeys that disappear the next morning.

and when your puffy lips finally attach to his nanami doesn’t keep any distance, he only pulls you closer, keeping a soft palm on the back of your head while his mouth swallows all of the wanton moans you let out, enjoying the way the sounds you make become stuttery and breathy as he touches you more, something as simple as his hand on your waist sending you into a frenzy.

the same hand slides down to your hips, a feeble attempt at holding them down while you’re so adamantly grinding into him, hungry for any kind of friction and eager to set him on fire too, to feel him harden under the cotton fabric of his pants. nanami prides himself on his willpower so it’d be a shame for him to fall under your not so subtle charms and seduction.

and as hard as it is to pull away from your lips that still have the taste of the cocktails you drank, to stop you from eagerly sucking on his tongue, riling him up for something more — nanami knows he has to, there is no way he is doing anything while you’re barely present.

fortunately, it’s fairly easy to control you in situations like these; all he has to do is tug you down onto the soft surface of the couch, hovering over you while he still kisses you, showing you that you can give in to him and trust him to take care of you. the soothing gliding of his hand over your hair and his strong arm around you is enough for you to submit, your harsh panting coming down to a halt and your eyes barely opening to meet his soft gaze.

“come on, sweetheart, let’s get you cleaned up.” he murmurs softly into your ear and all you do is nod obediently, voice a little hoarse as you hum, “okay, kento~”

ii. after that, you need a little bit of babying to get through it.

it’s when you are literally gripping onto him like a koala bear, demanding you guys sleep on the nearest surface available because you’re too drunk to do anything else, but nanami knows better than to relent to your awfully cute begging and pouty lips brushing against the slope his ear.

“namii~” you muse his name, face pleasantly beaming, whilst he sits you down on the closed toilet lid, leaving for a second to get your makeup remover. “nanami?”

“yes, my darling.” he hums lightly as he takes his spot between your legs, hand gently tilting your head up so he can remove your makeup.

instead of talking you let your hands glide up his thighs, resting on his hips as you lean onto him for support, making it a little more complicated for him to clean you up properly. you seemed to be lost in thought, processing your surroundings as you clung onto him for support.

nonetheless, nanami is able to rid your beautiful face of everything you put on before you went out, enjoying the way your pliant body obliged to every soft request he let out, whether it was to look up so he could remove your mascara or turn your face to the side.

he couldn’t stop himself from praising you for being so cooperative tonight, since you like to become rowdy when drunk, which is an amusing sight to say the least.

“all done,” he mutters lowly into your ear as he puts away the hairbrush in his hands and allows you to bury your face in his stomach while you giggle and blow raspberries into his clothed skin, which is childish but still cute.

“let’s get you to bed, mm?”

like a true gentleman, nanami picks you up in his arms and does his best to make something out of your incoherent mumbling before singling out a weak little,

“yes please.”

iii. and when you get in the bed, what finally presents itself as a pretty good opportunity to get some quality sleep turns into a therapy session because you tend to get a little emotional after the previous events.

you wail into his chest, “you’re so good to me, kento~” while your fingers dig into the muscles of his back, and nanami tries his best to reassure you that there is no one more deserving of everything he does than you and no one else he’d rather take care of than you.

whispering sweet words into your ear, rubbing his warm palm over your back to soothe your suddenly tense body, make you feel better after a long day filled with draining activities. you hiccup into his neck, a feeble attempt at stifling your sobs and whines, and wrap yourself around him once more, seeking comfort in the sturdiness and heat of his body.

and when you’re finally done for the night, dozing off while cradled in his arms, nanami lets you know that he does in fact love you very much and the rare smile that stretches on his lips when you mouth the words into the column of his neck is the proof of that.

whos ur least favorite character in jjk ?

honestly it has to be gojo & mahito 😭😭

fingers crossed hoping my ass gets done w the first ficc 😩

you are literally the cutest babe awww, but yeah we’re officially moots now! LET THE WETTEST PUSSY WIN 🫡💓

ahhhh, so happy we’re moots now, lets run it up 🐌 !!

i love love ur links !! don't listen to these weirdos smh 😭 at the end of the day it's just porn they're doing tm really

honestly, like since when was there kerens on tumblr ! besides, they blocked me but keep circling back to my acc & interacting 😭??

Hello!! Can I get the sauce for the head you used in this? https://www.tumblr.com/valetoria/766070438070714368/jjk-twitter-links-%EA%AA%86-instructions-before?source=share

the doujinshis called smth like sakura no tomoru hie !

i’ve never seen or experienced a tumblr fandom this problematic. now i understand what creators meant, like there are people throwing accusations, people copying others, acting entitled, and quick to start drama. no wonder why so many great writers have decided to step back from this ratchet ass app.

Ohh who’s the artist of it if you know

@sakuranotomoru on twt