#slimeball alley

[bleach-your-panties]

toji, the dick-slinging slasher 🍆💦 🔪❗️- toji fushiguro x fem reader 

🍔: first jjk fic EVER and it's crack lmao.

🍔: this was too good for me not to write

🔪: prompts from the wheel of misfortune, i can't help myself

🔪: includes horror prompt from beyond the grave & kink prompts sir kink, clothed sex, filming/recording, food play, & size kink 

🔪tagging: @bastardblvd, please don't kick me out of town for this mess of a fic 🤣😭

🍟:4.0k words

🍟:warnings: crack, slightly dubcon, non-penetrative sex?, cursing, dirty talk, spitting, age-gap (reader is early 20's, Toji is..undead) & spongebob dialogue. reader is squidward, basically.

🍟: this is not to be taken seriously! mcdonalds!manager!aki and denji from grimetown make appearances.

🍟: loosely based on my experience working in fast food.

🍟: banner made by me on pic collage

🍟: dividers by @/firefly-graphics

"Finally. 10 pm." You let out a deep sigh of exhaustion.

You had just finished mopping the entire lobby over again after a group of late-night stragglers  had came in and ordered twenty McDoubles, extra pickles. What a strange order.

One of them even tried to get into a verbal altercation with you because he claimed that his sandwiches had no pickles and accused you of not giving him any. 

You don't even work the fucking line; you're a cashier, for Christ's sake, even if you’re in the process of being cross-trained.

After dumping the dark, murky mop water outside the front door, you began to roll the bucket back to its designated area in the back of house.

Back there, Denji, your manager's weird associate, was picking at the leftover food from the dinner rush like a scavenging raccoon.

"You're not supposed to be back here." You gave him a deadpan look. 

"You're not supposed to be back here," He mocked you, "Fuck that, I'm starving." 

"Then go home and make something to eat?" 

"Nah, this'll do." He unwrapped a McChicken that had probably been sitting there since lunchtime.

"You're about to have diarrhea out of this world." 

He just shrugged.

You went on about your business with your other little housekeeping duties then took off your headset and nametag once you were done.

God, I hate this job.

You'd just finished university a week ago and upon your rejection of your dream graduate school, you ended up having to move back to Grimetown and live with your parents.

Your old-fashioned parents who don't believe in their grown children moving back home unless they have a job.

So here you are. Working at Mcdonald's with a fresh bachelor's degree under your belt.

"I'm going home. Later, Dingy." You pulled on your coat and grabbed your purse.

"Alright, and it's Denji." 

"That's what I said, 'innit? Peace out."

Denji rolled his eyes at you just as Aki came out of the office. "Hold your horses, Y/N. Where do you think you're going?"

You froze, hand poised to open the door.

"Uh, home? It's almost ten-thirty." 

Aki pulled a cigarette from under his hat, turned one of the grills on to light it, and then stuck it between his thin lips.

"No, you're not. I've decided that I'm going to keep the store open 24 hours now. More money for me-I mean you. Money for you."

You gave him an incredulous look and removed your hand from the door handle. 

"What?! This place is a shithole, it's not built to run 24 hours!" 

As you said this, the lights started flickering.

"See!"

"Denji, stop that!" 

"Sorry."

Aki looked about ready to give up on life but he shook his head as if to clear his thoughts. 

"Anyway, here's the keys. You'll switch out with the morning shift at 6 am. Have fun. Don't burn the place down, no matter how tempting it may be."

You didn't know what to do, so you just stood there with your mouth open.

"I can't believe this shit! You can't just leave me here by myself all night!" Snapping out of your little trance, you followed after the dark-haired man.

Aki turned his body halfway to meet your gaze, half-smoked cigarette still between his lips.

“You won’t be by yourself. Denji is here with you.” As if that was supposed to put you at ease.

“What? You can’t leave me here with him; he doesn’t even work here!”

Denji hopped down from the counter and strutted over to the two of you, chest poked out.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head, Y/N. I’ll take good care of you~” He then smirked as his eyes trailed over your body in your too-tight uniform shirt and pants.

You swear that bastard Aki purposefully ordered your garments two sizes too small, causing you to have to literally squeeze your assets into the God-forsaken red shirt and black pants every other day.

"You stay away from me." You pointed an acrylic fingernail at Denji without taking your eyes off of Aki.

"No way you can leave me here with Dumbass all night."

"It's Denji."

"That's what I said."

"Oh, but I can. You stay or you're fired. Simple as that. See you later!" He attempted to give you both a half-hearted wave, but you grabbed the sleeve of his jacket. 

"Where are you going?" 

Aki looked at you befuddled - are you actually whining?

He gently brushed you off of him and removed the cigarette from between his lips. 

“I’m going home - where else? I have a life.”

"I have a life, too, ya know!" 

Denji snickered. "How can you? You live with your parents."

“You shut up! No one asked you!” You retorted before sulking off to the back again.

_____

Toji didn’t know how to feel after he was killed by Gojo.

He thought that he’d at least go straight to hell, but apparently, that didn’t happen. Now here he was, in the middle of some…weird ass town in a shitty graveyard where the tombstones were poorly maintained. Damn, did anyone in this piece of shit town even tend to their dearly departed?

“This shit sucks…” Toji complained as he pulled himself out of a shallow grave that someone must have dug and threw him in unceremoniously. After brushing the dirt off his broad shoulders with his one good hand (only hand), he stretched it above his head and yawned.

The town ahead of him was dark, with only a few lights on of some apartment buildings, houses, and businesses that were crazy enough to run their power bills up by staying open all damn night long.

Like one certain McDonald’s….

_____

“Hey, Y/N, look at me! I’m uploading thirst traps to my Instagram story…at night.” Denji winked at you and clicked his tongue, waving his iPhone in his hand.“When else would you upload them, Dumbfuck?” You replied blandly as you lazily flipped through a magazine.”Whoever is thirsting over you is clearly blind or just desperate.” You added.

“Oh, that’s harsh.” He frowned. The two of you were just sitting around, bored out of your minds. No customers had entered the store since Aki left forty-five minutes ago.

Denji paraded around the table you were sitting at, chanting about different tasks that he was doing on his phone…at night.

Then suddenly…

Silence.

“Hey, Y/N, wanna hear a scary story?”

Silence over.

“No, but I know that you’re going to tell me anyway, so let’s hear it.” You rolled your eyes and closed the magazine, now giving the blonde your full attention.

"Okay, so-"

The bell over the door rang and in walked a customer, whistling happily.

"Good evening! I'd like to make an order!"

Both you and Denji stared at him for a long while until you finally decided to peel yourself out of the red leather booth and head to the cash register.

"What can I get for you tonight, sir?" 

"One Big Mac Meal, please, extra onions on that. Oh, are the fries fresh?" 

You looked behind him at the clock on the wall: 11:25 pm.

"No," You stated dryly, "will that be all for you?" 

The man gulped nervously at your lackluster expression and less-than-enthused tone and nodded.

"$8.35."

____

After the customer was situated at a table and munching his food happily, Denji continued with his story.

“As I was saying. The legend of Toji, the Dick-Slinging Slasher.”

You had to hold back from spitting some of your orange Hi-C right into his ridiculous face.

“I’m sorry, did you say ‘dick-slinging?!”

“That’s what I said, yeah.” Denji nodded, not phased by your outburst. 

“Legend has it, that on dark, cloudy nights, much like this one, he stalks the neighborhood looking for unsuspecting bitches to rob.”

“Okay, and that’s scary, because? Sounds like an average day in Grimetown.” You snorted.

"Be serious for one second, Y/N!" He slapped his palms down on your table.

Who is he to tell someone to be serious?

"Alright, alright, I'm listening."

Denji continued, "In his past life, he was a nothing-ass-bitch and deadbeat father who went around stealing from people or assassinating them for money." 

"He got killed by this super overpowered albino that he failed to assassinate and then after that, no one knows what happened to him. I heard that some teens from Grimetown High threw his ass in a ditch as a dare and that's where he's buried to this day."

You couldn't help but bust out laughing; this was the dumbest story that you'd ever heard!

"Denji…I'm still failing to see how this story is supposed to be scary…" 

"Well, when the albino killed him, he mutilated the entire left side of Toji's body, leaving a big ass gaping hole and Toji with only one arm. That doesn't stop him from slinging his community dick to all the unsuspecting bad bitches, though."  

'Okay, this is idiotic. I'm checking out.' You shook your head and got up with your cup, dumping the leftover ice down the drink fountain’s drain.

“Heed my warnings, Y/N! When the clock strikes midnight, he’ll come for you! Guard your booty!” Denji wiggled his fingers and made moaning noises that sounded more…pornographic than ghostly.

“Yeah, alright. I’m going to dust the drive-thru windows.”

____

12:00 AM, Midnight

So those clouds turned out to be storm clouds full of rain that was soon pounding down onto the miserable roof of your little establishment. The roof was leaking in a few places because Aki was too lazy to call the contractors to come and look at it.

“I swear, what is he even good for besides secondhand smoke and micromanaging everybody?” You groaned, placing yet another bucket under a leaking spot.

A loud crack of thunder sounded, and then everything went black.

“Denji!”

“It wasn’t me that time!” 

A few seconds later, said blonde came from the back carrying a heavy-duty flashlight.

“The power’s out. I tried tripping the breaker but got nothing.” 

“Isn’t there a backup generator here?” You asked and he just shrugged.

“Don’t ask me; I don’t work here.”

With a loud groan, you went to grab your cell phone out of your bag to call Aki.

No signal.

“Oh, you’re fucking kidding.”

You replaced the rectangular device inside your bag and retreated to the lobby where Denji was.

The thunder roared louder and the rain pattered harder against the roof and the glass windows.

“Hey Y/N?”

“What, Denji?” 

“This is kind of like the story, right? The perfect setting for Toji to show up.” You scoffed.

“Denji, that was just a stupid story. It’s not true at all! No one could survive with half of their body blasted away!!” You were just about at your wit’s end now, when the customer with the Big Mac came to the counter to ask you for ketchup.

“You’re still here?” Denji asked and the guy just looked at him. After he got his condiments, he packed up the rest of his meal and left, probably to get home and out of the rain.

The next few moments were spent in silence with the two of you trying to figure out how to get the power back up and running.

While Denji was in the back where the breaker box was, you were searching underneath the countertops for some sort of panic button or something.

CRASH!

Either Denji fell or a tree came down outside. You hoped it was the former, honestly.

Tap tap tap tap tap.

“Denji?! Is that you? Did you fall?” You whisper-shouted. You shined the flashlight on your phone to the back, trying to locate him.

“Fall?” 

Tap tap tap tap tap.

The lights began to flicker again and you jumped once you saw Denji suddenly standing beside you.

“Don’t do that! You almost scared me half to death, you dummy!”

“Sorry. Hey, what’s that tapping sound I keep hearing?” 

“Y-you mean…you weren’t doing that?”

SCREEEEEECHHHH!

Lightning flashed at the same time that the lights flickered back on.

At the front door, the tall outline of a burly man was standing there. His wet, dark hair splayed across his forehead and his eyes glowed a menacing red.

“IT’S T-THE D-D-...!” 

Denji’s body seized up as the man put his hand on the door and pushed it open, letting the pounding rain slosh and slide across the tiled floor. His slippered feet stomped through the puddles of water that were forming as he stalked his way toward the both of you. The little squish squish of his shoes through the water must’ve snapped Denji out of his little trance. He then looked at you as if realizing you were still there and in this predicament with him.

“Oh Y/N…I’m so honored that you went to all this trouble dressing up and using my own story to try and scare me! I knew that you liked me!” He chuckled, trying to convince himself that what he was seeing couldn’t be real.

Your mouth gaped open as you could only stare at the huge man coming towards you both now. Up close, he’s quite a looker. Deep, blue eyes, a cocky smirk set upon those handsome features, and a long, diamond-shaped scar at the corner of his mouth.

“Denji…there’s only two problems with your theory, there. I barely fucking know you, so how could I like you, and how could that be me when I’m standing right fucking here?!” You screamed at the idiotic blonde.

“Ah, what a noisy couple the two of you are. Making my fucking head spin.” Toji continued walking until he was right up on you. You had to crane your neck back to look up at his face. He looked right back down into your surprised one.

“You’re a cute one. Judging by that tight-ass uniform, I’m assuming that you work here?”

“Y/N, RUN! IT’S TOJI THE DICK-SLINGING SLASHER!”

Yeah, I think it’s a little too late for that now, don’t you think, Denji?

“Is that what I’m being called now? How lame.” Toji chuckled and before you could blink he kicked Denji into the wall.

“H-hey! Leave him alone, you one-armed prick!” You argued with a shake in your voice, which only amused Toji further.

“Prick? Where are your manners, you little brat? You’ll address me by sir and nothing else. You understand that, bitch?”

Denji groaned from where he was slumped against the wall.

"Sir? Fucking cringe. Next, he'll be expecting you to call him daddy."

Toji ignored Denji's comment and waited for your response. 

You opened your mouth a couple of times but no words came out.

Toji leaned his ear down to your mouth.

"Can't hear you, darling. What was that?"

"Y-yes sir."

He smirked and straightened his back.

"Good girl. Now, what do you serve here?"

"W-we serve food here, sir."

He clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes at you before looking above your head to the lighted menu. 

"Don't be a smartass."

He rubbed his thick fingers over his chin while he tried to decide on a meal.

"I think I'll have the Spicy McCrispy meal, hold the onions. Extra ketchup and pickles, large fry, and Diet Coke. Gotta keep it balanced." He chuckled to himself once he'd finished.

"Make sure you make it extra tender, juicy, and hot."

The bile began rising in your throat - both at his words and at the fact that you knew the oil that those crispy sandwiches were cooked in hadn't been changed in over a week.

"$10.96."

Toji stared at you blankly and you just returned it. You both stood there awkwardly staring at each other for a moment.

"$10.96?" You repeated.

"I…uh..left my wallet in my other sweatpants?"

You could feel the sweat dripping down the side of your forehead.

"Forget it. You'll pay for it with the insane amount of explosive diarrhea that you're going to have."

Toji chuckled nervously and leaned against the counter, watching you move around while you fixed his food.

He was instantly mesmerized by how much your ass still jiggled despite the tightness of your pants. 

"Here ya go." Your voice snapped him out of his perverted thoughts.

The tray of food looked surprisingly delicious, but you know that it's old and that the fries are cold and stiff.

Toji didn't care, though; he was just glad to have a meal.

He ate everything greedily, all the while never taking his eyes off of you.

When he finished, surprisingly, he dumped his trash in the bin and straightened up his area.

You had retreated to the back of house before he finished; with the power being restored, you could now focus on doing some other menial tasks that you'd only just now remembered.

"Hey…you! Leave Y/N alone!" Denji warned as he watched Toji begin to follow where you had gone.

"Fuck off, pipsqueak, or I'll kill you."

—

In the back, you'd started washing dishes and prepping some things for the morning staff.

The door separating the back of the house and the lobby swung open and then shut loudly behind you.

"Huh? You? What are you doing back here?"

"Hush now, darling; you wouldn't want your little friend out there to hear us now, would you?" 

"Who, Dickhead? He's not my fucking friend, not by a long shot. Doesn't mean I'd want you to kill him, though."

"You sure got a nasty mouth on you, little one. What, not afraid of me anymore?" 

The rusty blade of a sword made contact with the back of your neck.

"I mean, at this point, I was hoping that you were just a bad bout of indigestion, but that doesn't seem to be the case, now does it, gramps?" 

Toji could feel the left side of his face twitching: "Gramps?" 

You blinked once. "Yeah, gramps. You've probably been dead for ages now, so you're like somebody's rusty old great-great-grandpa."

"Rusty?!"

He pressed his crotch against your ass and let you feel his raging hard-on. Even through your pants, you could feel the weight and girth of his dick.

"Would someone who's considered to be 'rusty' be able to get this hard, baby girl?"

His one hand pushed down on your lower back, making you bend over the sink.

"Much better. 'Face down, ass up' suits you, darling."

Toji continued to rub his hard dick against the seat of your pants while making sure you stayed pressed against the sink.

A few soft moans of surprise escaped from your lips as he continued rutting against you.

"T-Toji.. " Your fingernails gripped the edge of the metal sink. His pelvis pushed against your ass and you bounced it back against him…

"Good girl, so fucking sexy." He growled, moving to grab a handful of your ponytail that peeked out of the hole in your McDonald's cap.

This continued for several minutes; Toji moving his hand between gripping your hair, holding your hip, rubbing his thick fingers over your clothed cunt, and smacking your ass.

This ordeal would have to take the cake of being the weirdest night of your life, with no competition.

"Fuck, Toji…this is so weird but hot…I think I'm going to cum…" 

He chuckled darkly, "So you get off to dry-fucking creepy old men after insulting them, eh? What a pompous, dirty, little slut you are, baby."

His movements got faster, making the sink rattle against its unstable position on the wall. 

Just as you were getting close to finishing in your panties, Toji flipped you around, making your back press against the sink painfully. 

You didn't have time to start a complaint though, because now he was slotting himself in between your legs. 

"Woah!"

You didn't know that your leg could stretch that far, but Toji stretched it until your black slip-resistant sneaker was behind your ear.

He began again with the same movements: thrusting against you with all the intent of a man getting ready to bust a fat nut.

"A-ahh, Toji…

"Hmm, feels good, sugar?"

Sugar.

"Y-yes, Toji…God."

He chuckled and moved to hover over you. A trickle of warm saliva dripped from his lips into your waiting mouth before he cupped your cheeks.

"Swallow."

You gulped, letting the viscous material slide down your dry throat.

With your head slightly tilted back, a blinking red light caught your eye. Toji followed your line of sight and then smirked.

"Does that camera work?"

"I don't think so…Aki never gets shit fixed around here…ah.." A sharp thrust of his hips against your covered clit made you shiver.

From the sound of your moans, Toji could tell that you were getting close.

With that one arm wrapped securely around your waist, the strong man lifted you up high to where you almost touched the dingy, grease-splattered ceiling.

He settled you down onto the line where the food was bagged and prepared to be sent out. There was a stack of brown serving trays next to you, containers of ketchup and other condiments, and…the ice cream machine.

"Toji.. what are you planning?" You asked, bringing your cute and confused E/C gaze up to meet his lustful sapphire one. 

He hummed quietly and pressed his lips against your neck.

"Could have sworn I told you to call me sir, brat."

You rolled your eyes. He just wasn't going to let it go, was he? 

“May I ask what you’re planning to do next, sir.” You huffed like a contemptuous child, making Toji’s dick jump.

With this new positioning, you were facing the camera head-on. God, you really hoped that thing wasn’t actually on.

“Smile for the camera, sweetheart.” He whispered in your ear before biting the shell of it, letting his tongue trail down until he was tasting the metal of your silver earring.

"You're so tiny and light, I love lifting you up as if you were nothing more but a little ragdoll." Toji bit at your earlobe, making you let out a loud squeal. Denji definitely would've heard that.

His hand moved to pull your hair, yanking your head to the side so he could leave a trail of wet kisses down from your ear, across the expanse of your neck and collarbones, and down the valley of your breasts once he'd popped the buttons on your shirt open. 

With the angle he had you at, your chest was positioned right under the nozzle of the ice cream machine and your near-fucked-out self hit the button, making a gush of cold, melted cream-colored confection spill across your chest.

Toji raised an eyebrow at you and failed to bite back a laugh. You, on the other hand, weren't as amused.

"What? You'd rather have something else white and creamy splattered across your chest?"  He asked.

You flopped back on the counter and flipped him off. He began to massage the melted ice cream into your skin.

"Looks so sweet. Got any cherries to go on top?”

“Fuck you.”

A handsome, devilish grin stretched across his face. “You just did.”

"What made you appear here tonight?" 

He laughed outright.

"Didn't you listen to the story, dollface? I'm here to sling dick to all the unsuspecting bad bitches, and tonight just happened to be your lucky night."

—

Aki came in the next morning, well-rested and without a care in the world.

With a lit cigarette between his lips, he fumbled with his massive set of keys until he found the correct one needed to open the doors.

Denji had texted him at some point last night telling him about the storm, so his first order of business today was to check to see if the security cameras were still functioning properly.

He sat down at his desk and popped in the security tape from last night. 

The employees, customers, and vendors that had come in after him would hear a very loud and very distinct shout of 'WHAT THE FUCK?!' from the back. 

----

*ʳᵉᵇˡᵒᵍˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᵃᵖᵖʳᵉᶜⁱᵃᵗᵉᵈ!

#byp🌹 #💗💗🍡°my fics #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #tw: dubcon #jjk toji #dilf toji #toji fushiguro smut #happy halloween #halloween 2023 #bastardblvd #grimetown #slimeballau #slimeball alley #toji fushiguro x female reader #toji fushiguro x fem reader #toji fushiguro x fem reader smut #toji x female reader smut #spongebob dialogue #this is so stupid #and gross #but its grimetown bby #i try to be funny sometimes #break from the dark content #this was supposed to be up last week #💗💗🍡°jjk masterlist

[cyancherub]

Toji didn’t tell you he has a son so you hire megumi as a dog walker while you’re at work and when he comes into your apartment he sees his dad passed out on the couch and he’s like wtaf

PASSED OTURKJGKJF hes just sleeping there with his mouth open and i know he snores as loud as a jet plane

#cherub.mail #em <3333 #freeloader!toji #THIS IS KILLING ME #slimeball alley

[bloompompom]

Tits for Tat

I hope you have a good idea about how you're going to pay for that tattoo...

✦ written for @bastardblvd's slimeball collab event! ✦ pairing: sleazy tattoo artist!eren jaeger x sweet sorority girl!reader content: ~6.7k word count. female reader, dubcon elements (sex in exchange for a tattoo), manipulation, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, brief oral sex (m!receiving), rough sex, corruption kink, dirty talk/light degradation, exhibitionism kinda sorta, light impact play, mirror sex, explicit language, explicit sexual content, content some readers may view as dark. reader discretion advised. 18+

The last thing you expected was for girls’ night to end like this. 

It was just past ten o’clock that Friday night. What was promised to be a night filled with gossiping over wine coolers turned into you and your two friends skipping through the uptown, loudly and practically elbow-locked like the best of chums. Or chumps, depending on whether the onlooker was a glass-half-full or half-empty sort of person. 

For any other twenty-something, the night was still young—still in its mother’s womb, actually. Fellow students had started their treacherous journeys across campus, sneaking from their dorms as if no one could hear the conspicuous clamor of bottles each time their backpacks smacked against the backs of their thighs. But for others—let’s say, hypothetically, tattoo artists—the day was at its end. And that was exactly why your little trio of giggling idiots was making a mad dash before closing time. 

The three of you had done everything together, and you meant everything. From ensuring you had the same lunch schedule since grade school, to surviving your awful calculus teacher senior year of high school, you were always at each other’s sides. If one of you didn’t have a prom date, then none of you did.

Like, if not for them, how else would you have gotten through that nasty breakup and lived to tell the tale? When your boyfriend, your first boyfriend—no, your first love—dumped you over the phone six months ago. 

You could talk about them forever, really, but all that was to say, they were your very best friends. Sisters in every sense of the word now that you had rushed the same sorority. So what better way to commemorate something as wonderful as sisterhood than matching tattoos? Little crescent moons on your ankles, specifically.

So, as one could safely assume by this point, that tattoo thing you mentioned earlier wasn’t so hypothetical after all. You stepped through the doors of the brick parlor on the corner forty-five minutes before closing. The studio lights were still on bright, and the glow of that obnoxious open, open, open sign in the window spilled red over the sidewalk, as if reading it one time wasn’t enough. 

The standee out front proudly welcomed walk-ins with big capital letters. It meant it too, because, after a brief conversation in the back, the receptionist said they had enough time to squeeze you in. The design was simple enough, according to her. ‘Simple enough’ still meant one hundred dollars, though. Shop minimum, blah, blah, blah. You each agreed and quickly signed the paperwork. 

You waited for your turns, sitting knobbly-kneed with hands folded neatly in your laps, eyes wide and darting from one another to the art plastered across the walls. 

Ten minutes felt more like ten hours, and yes, you could admit this sounded like a much better idea back at the house. But now that you were here, legs sticking to the plastic chair beneath your thighs, you realized how ridiculous this was. How ridiculous you—all three of you—were, looking more like you were ready for a slumber party than a spontaneous night out.

To be fair, you were just at a slumber party of sorts. It just so happened that your guests were also your housemates. 

What was merely an offhanded joke from your friend snowballed into the ‘Are we really doing this?’ conversation. You know, the conversation all friends have right before doing something you probably shouldn’t. If your friends jumped off a bridge, would you? 

No, of course not. But if the bridge was a tattoo, then the answer was yes. But now you were getting moony and hypothetical again.

Anyway, that was all it took (and some Pinterest scrolling) before you were on your merry way out the door and headed to the tattoo shop down the street—the only one you knew of. You even lacked the foresight to change, dressed in barely a thing since your bedroom lacked air conditioning and it was the balmy end of spring. You kept your arms folded over the Greek letters decorating your tank top, securing its neckline from slipping any further. You had already caught it twice before. 

You just wanted to get this over with. 

A woman you hadn’t yet seen waddled out from the hallway and, with a voice comparable to a bullfrog, called for your friend. With a tick of her head, she said, “I’ll take ya on back.”

She looked at you, then the friend still patiently at your side. Her left eye drooped a little, like she had a buzz going or something. “Your artists will be out soon.”

“Oh, actually,” you spoke up sweetly, perched a little higher in your seat. “We were hoping to get them together.”

Her expression didn’t change, her eye still drooped. “Listen, if I do that, then I don’t get to go home at eleven.” She leaned into you. You couldn’t help but wince. “And I really wanna go home at eleven, toots.”

Toots. You didn’t care for the nickname, but she frightened you nonetheless. You sealed your lips and waved off your jittery friend. Her mouth was more of a square than a smile as she looked back at you, nervous, and rightfully so. You wouldn’t want to be tattooed by that woman, either. Perhaps getting split up was a blessing in disguise. 

It wasn’t long before your name was called out next. By a man, this time. You heard him before you saw him. 

You perked your head and were greeted by a guy around your age. Well, maybe a few years older than you, but he wasn’t nearly as ancient as Toots. And at the very least, he didn’t appear drunk. If anything, his eyes looked a bit bored. 

For whatever reason, you took it personally. And while it was probably just the hour, you couldn’t help but think he was bored with you. Bored with your little outline of a moon that’d cost him no more than five minutes of work and you one hundred dollars. 

Twiddling your fingers, you teetered on over to him. He was dressed in black from head to toe, from the cuff of his jeans to the sleeves of his tee, rolled back to show off the tattoos littering his arms. Fitting, of course. He was exactly what you’d think of if you imagined a tattoo artist, albeit less burly and perhaps… prettier? That wasn’t the right word for it, but you could see it—see him—hidden behind his dark hair, messily tied back with sprigs and strands framing his angular face. Attractive in that bad-boy kind of way. Like, you just know your parents would kill you if you brought him home, but that was sort of hot in its own regard, wasn’t it? 

He looked you up and down, just a once-over, and you were suddenly self-conscious of the fact that you weren’t wearing a bra. 

“Eren,” he introduced once you were only a few steps away. He was tall and lean and loomed over you. 

You kicked yourself for it after, you really did, but you went for a handshake. It was an awkward move, for sure. Polite, but still awkward. One would think he’d take your hand just to shrug the discomfort off, but no, he gave you his back. Not even a ‘Follow me!’ or a second look or anything! And you definitely took that personally. You couldn’t say why you wanted any sort of approval from this man, but you did—a true people-pleaser at heart, as always. 

The back of the shop was larger than you had anticipated. You crossed through an open studio space, through the empty stations belonging to artists that, you assumed, had left for the night. You walked by each, passing rooms that appeared to be more private set-ups. Only one door was shut, and you discerned your friend's voice from behind it, then Eren led you to another. 

The room was only as spacious as it needed to be for a workstation comprised of a desk, two chairs, and stacks of drawers in the corner. Your eyes flitted over the frames of art on every wall, reminiscent of the front of the shop. You tried to match his style to the work you saw out there. 

Eren gestured loosely toward the chair in the middle of the room. You took a seat as he asked, “Ankle, right?”

“Yes,” you said. It sounded meeker than expected. You cleared your throat. 

He slumped into his chair, leaning his weight into it to roll closer to the foot of your chair. “Which one?”

You blanked. Seconds struggled by as you fought to remember which ankle you and your friends had agreed upon. One half of your brain scoured your memory while the other kept shouting, ‘Say something!’ because Eren was waiting for you to do just that.

He stared at you while you stared at your ankles. The silence between you grew longer and more excruciating until you finally decided, “Left.”

Almost like he didn’t hear you—or chose not to hear you—he barely glanced at your ankle before sliding even closer. You felt the vibration of his chair’s wheels against the tile, or at least you swore you could. You only watched him ghost the tips of his fingers up your bare leg until he was no longer near your ankle but at your side. He didn’t even touch you and yet you still had to suppress a shiver.

“It’d look better here, you know,” Eren said. He didn’t point at your hip but poked it—the little spot bikini bottoms cover. He peered up at you, eyes locking onto yours with actual acknowledgment for the first time that night. That square-in-the-face sort of look. You noticed the vibrancy of his irises, green and piercing. 

“I want it on my ankle. I’m matching my friends,” you replied, but again, there wasn’t much conviction in your voice. 

“What if you’re not friends in a year?” He reached for the box on his desk and pulled out two gloves. Between his words was the snap of latex as he tugged them on one at a time. “Then you’re stuck with a dumb ankle tattoo with people you hate.” 

It’s not dumb, you corrected in your head. If only he could have heard your inner monologue about sisterhood and whatnot on your walk over here. Besides that, his logic didn’t make any sense. Even if you moved it, then you’d be stuck with a dumb hip tattoo with two people you hate, which was really no different than a dumb ankle tattoo. But then again, fewer people would see it.

Still, the apathy oozing from his voice crawled under your skin. You sassed, “I don’t think that really concerns you, does it?”

“Whatever.” He shrugged as though he were indifferent to it. But if he truly were indifferent, he wouldn’t have mentioned it in the first place. Nor would he have continued with, “All I’m saying is that it’d fit the spot better.” He handed you a clipboard. Pinned to it was a cut-out of your soon-to-be tattoo. “And technically, you’d still match ‘em with the moon.”

He turned back toward the desk while his words lingered. You wriggled your ankle around, inspecting it, then looked at your hip. As if it were still there, you felt where Eren’s finger had been and used it as a reference to envision the tattoo. Maybe you should go out on a limb and trust him, considering he was the professional between the two of you. 

“Fine. Let’s do the hip,” you rushed to say. “Do I need to change or anything?”

He peered at you from over his shoulder. “You have on underwear?”

Your face went hot. “Obviously.”

Eren returned to whatever he was doing—you couldn’t see past him. “That works then.”

The moment you stood, thumbs looped under the waistband of your shorts, you regretted relocating the tattoo to your hip. 

Tomorrow was laundry day.

‘Why would that matter right now?’ some might ask. Oh, naive one, the reason it mattered was with laundry day just past the horizon, you were left with no choice but to put on your last-resort pair of underwear after your morning shower. A stringy, pink thong that you only saved for special occasions—aka exactly three times with your ex and the days you were too lazy to do laundry, like today. 

Listen, you weren’t a prude. It was just that you wouldn’t necessarily choose to show off the skimpiest pair of panties you owned to a complete stranger. 

This was nothing out of the ordinary for him, though. Right? It was his job, day in and day out. He’d probably tattooed areas much more private than a silly hip, a million times over even. 

But no, his attention is undoubtedly captured once your shorts were off. His eyes flitted from your face, down to your thong, then back to your face. And it certainly didn’t make matters any easier that he had to be crotch-level with you in order to prep the spot.

You didn’t dare to look at him directly, especially once you felt him touch you. More than just a finger this time, he curved his hand around your leg as he quickly shaved and sanitized you for the stencil. 

Your cheeks hadn’t cooled off by the time Eren asked, “How’s that?”

You angled your head around strangely until he pointed to the mirror behind you. You spun around to get a better look. He was right: the tattoo did look nice there. Hopefully your friends wouldn’t be too hurt by the last-minute switch. 

“Good,” you concluded, still shimmying and studying the new addition to your body. 

You caught Eren’s eyes in the mirror’s reflection. He was staring at your ass. Rather shamelessly, too, if you did say so yourself. He made a half-assed attempt to stifle the smirk at the corner of his mouth. You swore you would burn this damn thong after tonight.

You scuffled back into the chair while Eren stood up from his. He threw his gloves in the trash can by the door and told you he’d be back in a few minutes, that the stencil needed time to dry. When he returned, he smelt faintly of cigarettes. There was a waft of it right as his chair whizzed by you. 

He situated himself, which didn’t take long, and rested a freshly-gloved hand against you. In it was his tattoo machine, the needle held just centimeters away from your skin. Your body tensed. You weren’t nervous about the pain; it would be over and done in a flash. No, it was Eren that made you nervous. Incredibly so, and you were sure he knew it, too. 

“Ready?” he asked you before kicking on the machine, the whirring of it buzzing in your ears. He waited for your nod before starting. 

It hurt. Not bad, but the sting was very much present. You finally let out that shaky, anticipatory breath you’d clung to, but it didn’t dull the pounding in your chest.

Eren stretched your skin with one hand and guided the needled with the other. It had been so long that to be touched there, on such an oddly intimate part of you, felt almost foreign. Indecent, in a way, having only been held there by someone you loved—someone who, at one point, loved you in return. How none of Eren’s prodding was inherently improper and still it led your mind astray, craving something as elemental as the touch of another human being, even if it was through the barrier of medical-grade latex. 

“Done,” he announced. You sat higher up to get a better look. “That wasn’t so hard now, was it?”

You responded with only a soft, affirmative sound. 

Eren gave you a rundown of the after-care process. It was the longest sentence he’d strung together that night, and you didn’t even hear it. It was garbled up in your head, words that you’d inevitably have to find online later. Embarrassingly, you were more focused on the placement of his hand again.

In your defense, Eren was a little more daring now with the needle out of his hand, or at least you thought so, with fingers smoothing low as he cleaned your new ink. His touches dawdled and left you flustered, wondering if he was playing with the thin band of your panties or simply pushing it out of the way.

You were dazy, only snapping back to it once Eren said he could cash you out while you gathered your belongings and redressed. “It’ll be—”

“A hundred dollars, I know,” you said. You scrounged through your purse for your wallet. You tried to hand him your credit card, but he didn’t budge.

“Cash only.”

“What do you mean cash only?” you questioned, more like barked.

That was a head-scratcher. “I’m not sure how I can make it any more clear.”

“Why didn’t you—I don’t know, say anything earlier?” You were upright now, stiff as a board—still in a thong—and verging into panic mode, waving your hand at the cluttered walls. “Or at least, like, have a sign?”

“It’s in the paperwork,” Eren said as flatly as ever.

The paperwork you didn’t read but skimmed—okay, even ‘skimmed’ was an overstatement. Stupid, stupid, stupid. 

You sucked in a deep breath, let it hang in your chest until it hurt, then heaved it out. A very basic and very overt effort in collecting yourself. You fingered through your wallet. Then your purse next, every zipper and every pocket of it. You didn’t have cash on you, you never did, but you needed to stall while you hastened to think up a plan. Maybe you could stay and clean. Sweeping, washing windows, that type of thing. Yeah, that could work. 

All the while, Eren observed quietly, waiting for your fussing to settle. He was calm for someone who may or may not be paid tonight, and for some reason, it only ramped up your anxiety, like a suffocating hand around your throat. 

Eventually, your shoulders dropped with a very heavy—and very annoyed—sigh. “You want to see my boobs or something?”

Eren snorted. Snorted! The audacity of it, as if your offer was no better than a measly I.O.U scribbled onto a napkin. 

As callow as your offer was, something about it coming from your innocent pout had Eren’s cock straining in his jeans. It was a final and lasting blow, one he absolutely couldn’t take, not anymore. It was already enough that he had to bear the sight of you in that skimpy fabric you called underwear—had to feel your warmth as he smoothed over your hip. But now, there was just one more thing he couldn’t possibly ignore.

“I think you might want to pay another way,” he said.

Was he teasing you? There was a roundaboutness to his voice. A knowingness. It frustrated you. What the hell was that supposed to mean?

Before you asked, he answered with his eyes. You followed them down not to your tattoo but between your legs. The darkened and unmistakable dampness on the front of your panties. Evidence of you permitting your thoughts to run with reckless abandon.

It was humiliating. Heart-dropping-to-your-ass humiliating. You squeezed your thighs shut. “Hey—”

“What? Are you too good for a quick fuck?”

You almost snapped back with a defensive, ‘No!’ but if you did, what would you be confessing? That you wanted to, and you wanted to do it with him? That your mind had been plagued with filthy thoughts since the second you felt his gloved hand on you. That the most thrilling escapade you shared with your last boyfriend was in the back of his mother’s minivan—which he still drove.

You were certain he could see it. See on your maidenly face that you were actually considering the proposition. In fact, the scale tottered toward that option. It was much more plausible than trying to bolt from the shop with a free tattoo. 

Eren leaned into you, his hand dangerously close to your thigh. He froze, almost with a flinch, before making contact. Skeptic brows crowded over his eyes. 

“You’re not a virgin, are you?”

“Of course not.” You said it with such force that it sounded like a lie. You had only slept with one person before, your ex, but it still counted. 

That damn chair started rolling again. Over to the far corner of the room where Eren flipped on the stereo, then reached for the dial to turn up the volume. You couldn’t name the song, but it was loud, and that was all that concerned you.

Your heartbeat, previously thumping in your chest, was now in your throat. The was anticipation there. Of course it was; you were about to sleep with a stranger in his place of employment. But it was more than anticipation, there was a warmth—no, a heat—throbbing within your very core. 

“Ever done anything like this before?” Eren asked.

You shook your head, opting to keep the minivan story to yourself. Truthfully, you didn’t believe you could speak even if you wanted to. Not with his fingers, now freed from his gloves, gliding up your thigh—nearly between them.

He reached underneath your chair to lower it. The surprise of the drop pulled a gasp from you, but when you looked up at him—realized you now had to look up at him to mark the hunger in his grin—your breath hitched. Then and there, it was established that you were the prey here. His prey. And the twisted part was, you didn’t mind it one bit.

Eren’s hand snaked between the crease of your thigh, skimming your panty line. He chuckled through his nose when your stomach instinctively flexed at such a chaste sensation. He toyed with your underwear, for real this time.

“Well, let me be the first,” he cooed, but his voice was as saccharine as artificial sweetener. 

He bunched your thong to the side to trace between you. If that alone had you sinuously arching your back, Eren couldn’t help but muse over what more would do to you. Would it ruin you when he pumped a finger inside you? What about two? And once he had you split and bouncing on his cock, how debauched would you sound then?

So pathetically sensitive. He had you mewling, no better than a tiny kitten, once he circled your clit deftly, with the flat of his fingers coated in your slick. Delicate and restrained hums spilled from you despite the way you chewed at your bottom lip, like you thought you could literally bite back the sounds. Cute.

Eren handled you with authority, his touch gentle but at the same time, you knew it would be permanently seared into your skin. He was intentional, even as he stuffed a finger inside you, knuckle-deep.

Your head jerked forward with a whine. “Ah, that’s—oh,” was all you sputtered, your nails digging into the vinyl of the armrests. 

He pumped a second finger inside you, expecting your wreckage but only discovered his own. Somehow you sounded more decadent—felt more decadent—than he had imagined. Silken and fluttering around him. Tight but still sucking him in for more. The thought of how snug you’d feel around his cock, how he’d have to bully his way in—

Fuck.

Eren slipped his fingers from you, leaving you panting, desperately clenching around nothing. The overhead light was unforgiving; you could see the sheen of your arousal dripping from his fingers. He stained his jeans with it as he palmed over the front of them, displaying his length to you in all of its glory. You swallowed hard. 

The look on Eren’s face was one you could only describe as lascivious. You wanted to avoid it, but to dodge it meant facing the tent beneath his zipper. It was far more intimidating than his devilish gaze, an impatient reminder of how deplorable you were for wanting it. 

“So you wanna help me out with this?”

He knew your answer, what with you already sliding off the side of the chair. He didn’t even need to ask. He only did because he wanted to hear your dumb, “Uh huh,” saliva thick in your mouth, as your sultry eyes heeded to the belt he had started to undo.

You wiggled your panties down and you kicked them off your feet. It was a vulnerable position, standing there between his spread knees as he unfastened the button to his jeans, the zipper next. His cock sprung out with a slight bob, like it was heavy. It made you achy. You unabashedly ogled, wondering how it’d fit, until he, like you, was bare from the waist down. 

“Turn around,” Eren said. He was unceremonious about it, even stroking himself as he watched you obey without so much as a complaint. 

Through your legs, you took his cock between your fingers, running over the length of it, your palm soft, your touch timid. You earned a sharp inhale from Eren, and you did just the same without having to be touched.

It was embarrassing, how you were no better than a touched-starved puppy. That even this—the tip of his cock nudging your clit, twitching in your grasp every time it threatened to dip inside you—had your thighs trembling. 

Eren splayed a hand over your back as you took him slowly, sinking onto his cock, reverse cowgirl, with a slight bend to your knees. 

There was a stretch. Enough that you had to grit your teeth. Eren was bigger, thicker, than your ex. Not to mention, it had been six months since you’d been dumped. Even longer since you last got laid. 

But don’t mistake that for a complaint. It was far from it, actually. You missed the feeling. The moment that knot of pain unraveled itself into pleasure. When a once-clenched jaw goes slack, making space for teeny, breathy sounds to escape. The burn of skin smacking skin, your ass smushed against the tops of Eren’s thighs once you’d taken all of him, little by little, until you were hit with a fullness. It was one you hadn’t experienced before, settling deep in your stomach and making your eyelids flutter shut. 

You lifted yourself just to let gravity drop you back down. You were languid, indulging in every vein and ridge of his cock, exploring the newfound feeling. 

“Shit, you’re so fucking tight,” Eren muttered, the end of it nothing more than a drawn-out hiss. “You didn’t lie about not being a virgin, did you?”

“No,” you moaned. The rasp of his voice alone had you tightening around him more. “I’ve only ever been with my ex.”

Something about your answer did it for him. You could tell because he whispered, “Christ,” so low you barely heard it. He groped at your ass, spreading you, mesmerized by the sight of your pussy struggling to take him. 

When Eren decided you weren’t fast enough for him, already losing your balance with your flip-flops sliding against the smooth tile floor, he firmly took hold of your hips. He pushed and pulled you, up and down, working you over his cock how he wanted. 

“Oh—oh, fuck!” you cried out, unable to stifle the whine.

You jolted and squirmed for him. It was ruthless, the way he used you like a toy. But fuck, if it didn’t feel good. Good enough to scatter prickles across your skin, sweltering and shivering, somehow at once, in the cold studio. It was so much. Too much. You needed something to brace yourself on.

Bleary beyond belief, you couldn’t think of something to hold onto in time. Thankfully, it wasn’t you that tipped, but the chair. It rolled until the back of it slammed into the desk behind you. A few things you couldn’t make out crashed to the floor. Eren didn’t react.

From the other side of the wall—hopefully the far side of the shop—you heard a muffled, “Everything okay in there?”

“Just fine,” Eren replied, infuriatingly calmly, fucking you through it, while you writhed just to try and clasp a hand over your mouth. 

With the desk as support, Eren leaned back with his feet dug into the floor. His hand curved around your hip—not the side that he tattooed, of course—and flattened it over your stomach. He yanked you down, your back shoved up against his chest, so he could pound into you, deeper than before, with you pliant and at his mercy. 

You were an incoherent mess. Babbling at this point. Filling the room with pathetic sounds that didn’t qualify as moans and whimpers but whatever was even less than that. Ohs and ahs and chokes of his name, none of which you could swallow back. 

You’d never been touched like this before, have you? There’s no way, Eren couldn’t help but think. Not by someone like him, at least. Someone willing to take what they wanted but also knew how to give—how to get you off—in return. He wondered how far you’d go if he were to lead you. 

Eren snaked his hand between your legs, his skillful fingers navigating straight to your clit. 

“Didn’t think you’d like this so much, huh?” 

You felt every word of it against your neck, but you didn’t answer. He removed his hand from your clit, only for a second but enough to make you miss it, and replaced it with a smack.

You found your voice enough to yelp.

“I can’t hear you,” he condescended.

You almost wanted to stay quiet so he’d do it again, but you were eager to please. Always had been.

Unbelievably turned on, you rolled your hips against his cock, bleating, “So much. I like it so—ah—so much.”

Eyes screwed shut, you didn’t realize until you were halfway across the room that Eren had slid the chair. He had you turned to face the mirror, right in front of it. You were spread, wider, and on display as his slick cock pumped in and out of you. It was a sight lewd enough to be mistaken for a porno.

Your phone, resting on the chair behind you, illuminated in the reflection and caught your attention. There was a moment of panic. It had to be one of your friends. They must be wrapped up with their tattoos by now, left utterly confused as to why you were taking so long.

You hiccuped, “My phone. My friends. They’re gonna—”

For once, he slowed. You wrangled in your breathing but, naggingly close to coming, mourned the loss. Eren outstretched an arm and picked up your phone. Lazily rocking his hips into you, he held out in front of you. You went to grab it, thinking he must have been handing it to you, but he only needed to unlock it with Face ID.

You couldn’t believe he was using your phone while he was inside of you. “What’re you—” 

“Buying us time.” He tossed the phone behind him, back into the chair. He didn’t start fucking you again but said, “Get up,” with a smack across your ass.

Your legs wobbled beneath you but luckily, you didn’t need them for long before Eren spun you around and yanked you down onto his lap. His cock, still warm and wet from you, slapped against your stomach as he bunched your shirt over your breasts. He took them between his hands, squeezing them together for him to nip and suck at. You knew he was looking at them earlier. 

You tried to angle yourself to ride him, but he didn’t let you. Instead, he chuckled against your skin, “Look at you. Now you’re begging for it, aren’t you?”

Eren took one of your nipples into his mouth, letting his teeth graze over it. You whined much too loudly for the situation, and he solved it with just two fingers, stuffed straight into your mouth. You gagged immediately. 

“C’mon. You can do better than that for me, can’t you, pretty?” His voice was like honey lined with acid and burned your stomach just the same. “Take ‘em well, and I’ll fuck you again. How’s that sound?”

His fingers drove deeper into your mouth, mashing down on the back of your tongue. Tears prick the corner of your eyes, but you fought past them. You suctioned your lips around his fingers, swirling your tongue around them like you would his cock. 

He sounded no different from earlier when he said, “See? That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” With eyes keen on you, he slipped his fingers from your mouth with a pop.

Eren stood to his feet, but you didn’t expect to go along with him. You didn’t think he’d be strong enough to carry you, for you to swing around with a disgusting amount of ease like a rag doll, but he was and you did. He was so arrogant with it, so ungracious, that perhaps you could re-evaluate your self-worth because you folded to him. A submissive sound squeaked out from the back of your throat the second your shoulders crashed against the wall. 

Your legs hitched around his waist, ankles crossed over his lower back, as he pushed inside you again. He hiked you higher up the wall with every thrust, smushing your tattoo between the crease of your skin. You felt the hot sting of it, similar to a papercut, but it fizzled away the closer he coaxed you into coming undone. 

Without the bothersome swiveling of the chair, Eren pistoned into you unlike before—which, frankly, you didn’t think was possible. You collided into him with every snap of his hips, grinding your clit against his pelvis so nicely, sparking your body ablaze.

You didn’t want him to get the satisfaction of knowing he made you come.  Even as you felt it, how the low part of your stomach tensed with delicious blooms, you stayed quiet about it, tucking your chin to your chest. 

But you weren’t as artful about it as you believed yourself to be. Your chest went tight, your breath silent and strangled, and not to mention, you were clenching around him, pulsing like a heart. It was a dead giveaway.

“Comin’ for me?” Fuck. That tore a strained sound from you—how could it not? “Don’t be shy. Let me hear it. Let them hear it.”

Why did he have to remind you of your friends at a time like this? And why did you… like it?

You threw your head back, smacking it against the wall in sobs of pleasure. If they hadn’t heard your moans already, they had to have heard that. The blunt of your nails buried into his ungiving biceps as you rode out the last of your high.

“What a filthy little slut I’ve made, forcing your friends to wait while you come all over this cock.” He punctuated the last word by ramming inside you, deep enough that your toes curled. 

After you finished, Eren has his way with you, as if he hadn’t before. He fucked into your willowy body, your mind long gone and fizzy, without restraint. Now, you were only there for his needs.

He panted against you, riled up with his face burrowing into the crook of your neck. He was close; you knew because he made a few breathy sounds against your skin. Then he dropped you to the floor unexpectedly. 

“Knees.” Eren jerked himself off while he waited for you. “I wanna come in that sweet little mouth of yours.”

You scrambled to get onto your knees, and what a sight you were, like a faun on its newborn legs. Sweat glistened over your chest. Over your tits—which were out, by the way, with your tank top stretched beneath them. You had on just a singular flip-flop, the right one, without a clue as to where the other had gone. 

Eren lined his cock up with your lips. You opened up for him, your mouth a small and tight O with the plush of your lips shielding your teeth. He tilted his hips back and forth, dragging his cock in and out of your mouth and along your tongue. You could taste yourself on him, tart on your tastebuds. 

You wrapped your lips around his tip and sucked softly until he cursed under his breath. He brought a hand to the back of your head and pushed you further down his shaft. His other planted itself against the wall to hold himself up while he fucked your mouth. It was rough, but it had you tingling between the legs, greedy and ready for more.

Eren groaned after a few erratic bucks. You gazed up at him, your vision glossy, eyes teary and far away, and he threw his head back. You felt him, hot and dripping down the back of your throat as you tried to swallow around the thick of his cock. 

He listened to you, whimpering around him, as he thrust into you languidly a few more times. Low growls of, “Fuck, take it, just like that,” erupted like thunder from the depths of his chest. 

Eren pulled out and smoothed a palm over the side of your face. He pinched your cheeks together as you panted, coming down from one of the biggest rushes—and certainly the best orgasms—of your life. He kept his eyes on you as he smudged his thumb over your lips, spreading them with his thumb and pushing down on your bottom teeth. You had swallowed everything he had given you. Satisfied, he dropped your face. 

You smeared the back of your wrist over your mouth, but it wasn’t enough. You used the neckline of your shirt to messily clean your mouth, hoping your friends would ignore the stain left behind. 

Eren had already tugged on his jeans though his belt remained undone. He ran a hand through his hair, now freed from its bun, the ends of it dusting his shoulders. You weren’t sure when that happened, but it was most likely your doing.

You didn’t know how you should end this. There wasn’t an eloquent way to do so, was there? There wasn’t a manual or instruction book to follow when you paid for a tattoo with your body. Paid for it with your underwear, too, apparently. You stayed quiet as you watched Eren stuff your thong into his back pocket like it was his.

“Consider it a tip,” he winked. Fine. You didn’t want them back, anyway. 

So after a business-like exchange of, ‘Are we good?’ and ‘Yep,’ all while Eren tidied his station as though nothing had ever happened, you left the shop still tasting him on your tongue—feeling him exactly where you had predicted his fingerprints would sear into your skin. 

Your friends weren’t waiting for you in the lobby but huddled together on the curb out front. It was well past eleven o’clock now. The shop must have kicked them out before closing. 

Bug-eyed and gawking at the mere sight of you, one of them commented, “I thought you texted me as a joke. I didn’t think you were actually serious.”

You had forgotten about your phone.

When you checked your messages—saw what 'you' had replied when she asked what the hold-up was—you wanted to die a little.

Fucking the tattoo artist.

Blunt and to the point and definitely something you didn’t want to share with them, even if they could have guessed it. You responded with an innocuous half-laugh. 

“Hey, I thought we agreed on the right ankle,” she inquired. She looked to your left one to find it was just as bare. “Where’s your tattoo?”

“Oh, uh,” you stammered. “It’s, um, on my hip.”

You peeled back your shorts to show them, and thankfully, they didn’t mind. 

The walk back to the sorority house was relatively quiet, and you blamed yourself for it. Only when your friend shook out her ankle and complained, “I can’t believe this little thing cost me a hundred dollars,” was the tension relieved. “Plus tip!”

“Right? And I can’t believe they expected us to have that in cash,” you remarked.

They stopped in their tracks—both of them—each shooting you a bewildered look.

“Cash?”

#eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren smut #slimeball alley on bastard blvd

[strawberrystepmom]

safety first

pairing: fake osha inspector!jiraiya x restaurant manager f!reader

word count: 2.2k

about: when an inspector unexpectedly comes to your restaurant, you figure out how to get yourself out of trouble.

contents: NSFW - MDNI. reader is referred to with feminine terms and has breasts and a vagina. piv sex, unprotected sex, partially clothed sex, walk in freezer sex, dirty talk, dubcon (just to be safe bc she is fucking him to get out of “trouble” lmao)

notes: this is a repost from my old blog. for my non americans: osha stands for occupational safety and health administration. they come and make sure businesses are meeting safety standards for their employees.

my meager contribution to @bastardblvd's collab. i love this old man and would love for him to stir me up with that hug- *gunshot* okay love you thanks for reading stay sexy!!!!

divider is thanks to @/cafekitsune

“Uh, we have a problem."

You wish the mere sound of that word, problem, didn’t make your skin crawl but between shifts while you prepare for what will almost definitely be a busy Friday night dinner service, it’s the last thing you want to hear. The word is even more unpleasant to hear from your very anxious looking hostess who should be manning her station at the front of your restaurant.

Turning to look at her, you quirk a brow and she visibly shrinks as she approaches you.

“OSHA is here,” she mutters barely louder than a whisper. You blink. Once, twice. Your lips twist into a concerned frown, a crease forming between your brow as you look at her. 

“Excuse me?”

OSHA is here…right now. In your restaurant. Looking for violations of safety rules right before a busy dinner service. Your mind quickly runs through various scenarios that could have prompted the visit - did someone file a complaint? Was there an injury? Panic rises and you instinctively look down at your feet to make sure you wore your non-slip shoes today, a large shadow entering your periphery from behind the young woman standing in front of you.

“Are you the manager of this establishment?” 

The voice of the unfamiliar man booms and you look up, eyes widening as you take him in. He’s big - significantly larger than any man you’ve ever seen and his visage isn’t one you’d usually assign to the inspectors that have come in the past. The sight of him is intimidating enough and then your eye travels to the ID tag clipped on his belt loop, the glint of the plastic protector making you gulp. 

“Yeah, I am,” you nod and swallow again, straightening your posture as you feel him look over you and zero in on your shoes. A breath sticks in your lungs as he flicks his eyes back up toward your face and thrusts his hand in your direction to shake. “Great, my name’s Jiraiya and I’ll be inspecting the premises for any violations today.”

Nervously, your hostess shifts where she stands and you nod your head to give her silent permission to leave. She casts you a glance before scurrying away, leaving you alone with the man in front of you. Thoughts run through your head of how you can best distract him, uncertain of how the condition of your own kitchen stands at this point in time. 

“Can I ask what prompted your visit?” 

Jiraiya looks down at you and you meet his curious glance with a flat stare of your own, mouth in a line. In a futile attempt to seem more intimidating, you fold your arms over your chest and you make a note of the way the corner of his mouth lifts in a smirk while he watches you. He hums, folding his arms over his own broad chest.

“Well,” he starts, voice deep and rich. “We don’t have to notify you prior to arriving and here I am.” 

Your mouth rises in a tight smile and you nod once, tipping your head and blinking at him indignantly.

"On what basis are you here?" He shrugs, arms staying in place over his chest. Nothing about this situation seems normal but you suppose it could be his first day on the job or maybe you missed something - this is the start of the busiest time of year and you hardly have time to keep track of the most important things much less minor safety issues.

"I just go where they tell me, ma'am."

Another nod, another curt smile and you unfold your arms and slap your hands against your thighs.

"Well, tell me what you need to see and I'll show you there." Jiraiya turns his back and you roll your eyes, his voice very audible over the hustle and bustle of the restaurant. “To the kitchen then!”

You watch as your staff stiffens at the sight of him, everyone looking down at their shoes in the same fashion you did to ensure OSHA safety standards are being met in the footwear department. His purpose in being here certainly isn’t about shoes, you feel and you follow him silently into the kitchen and back toward the stock room. 

Watching as he inspects every shelf, pulling our cans and searching behind them, you begin to grow impatient. He still hasn’t given you his reason for being here and it feels as if he’s wasting time getting to the point. Just as you decide to speak up, he clears his throat and tips his head in the direction of the freezers. 

“Haveta’ check in there next.”

A defeated sigh escapes you and you unceremoniously fan a hand in the direction of the heavy doors that separate the walk in from the rest of the kitchen. He looks behind him to make sure you’re following and he opens the door with a grin, pretending to shiver. 

You roll your eyes. 

“Tough crowd.” 

His words are aimed at no one in particular but you follow him into the small space and watch as he does the same inspection of each shelf he performed in the store room. The scrape of heavy boxes against metal shelves makes you shiver and he tosses an apologetic frown in your direction. 

“Sorry about all this.” For a moment you soften toward the large man, your eyes dancing across his broad frame. A thought flickers in your mind, the small flame of a potentially bad idea, but you try your luck and walk into the freezer alongside him and shut the door behind you. The proximity forces your shoulder to brush against his bicep and he glances down at you with a knowing smile.

“What can I do to pass this little inspection?”

The words drip from your mouth like sweet honey and Jiraiya smirks, chuckling before wrapping a hand around your hip and pulling you to his side. Heat rushes to your face as you look up at him, standing literal head and shoulders above you, and you feel embarrassed at the way you squirm and press your thighs together.

“We can make all of this go away real quick if you wanna.”

Breathlessly, you let him press the front of you against the cold shelves of the freezer.  The boxes and bags that line the shelves rattle with the force and you moan as he leans against your ass, his bulge resting on your lower back. His breath against the shell of your ear and the heat of your own weeping cunt are the warmest things in the freezer.

Jiraiya cups your clothed breast, big hands palming you hungrily as he rubs his clothed clock against your lower back and moves his hands just enough that he can manipulate your body enough that your back is arched. Sliding one hand from your breast to your chin, he cups it and forces you to look up at him. 

“Smile, sweetheart.” He pants the words through gritted teeth, a soft moan escaping you as you notice the determined look on his eyes. “I’m about to take real good care of you.”

All you can do is nod as you stare up at him, the hand not gripping your face reaching for the waistband of your black slacks and pulling them down in one motion, the fabric bunching halfway down your thighs. Looking down at the curve of your ass pressed against him, he hisses and chuckles lowly. A hand caresses one of your plush cheeks before giving it a little smack, the jiggle making him rub against you once more simply to feel relief. 

“No panties?” He remarks, his large hand sliding across your cheeks again to pull them apart with his thumb and index finger. Whistling lowly, he lets go of your face and you continue looking up at him, entranced by the sight of this older man inspecting your body. “What kind of luck am I having today?”

The hand makes its way between your thighs and you feel his index finger find your slit, the digit running through your soaked and silky folds. This time it’s you pressing against him and spreading your feet just a bit wider to give him more access to you. Never one to miss out on the feel of a sweet leaking cunt beneath his fingers, he swirls the tip around your clit before sliding down further and inserting just the tip inside of you. 

“You like that?” 

You nod, humming affirmatively as he slides his finger through your folds again. Another arrogant smirk crosses his features as he buries his finger to the knuckle without warning you, the slick heat of you sucking him in with little resistance despite how thick his fingers are. He works one finger in and out of you briefly before adding a second, the stretch of two of them so delicious your eyes roll back in your head. 

“Oh fuck,” he mutters and you feel a hand slide toward your lower belly so he can press you against him until there is no space left between your bodies. The deep pants coming from him make you squirm and he moves his hand again with the unspoken expectation that you keep your position exactly as it is. You do and your reward comes in the form of small, dizzying circles being rubbed around your clit with his fingers. 

“Jiraiya…” the high pitched whine leaving your mouth would embarrass you in any other situation but your mind is numb with the cold of the freezer. He continues to rub diligent circles that are driving you crazy and you finally cum with a moan, clenching around his fingers so hard he has to keep them inside of you until you have relaxed enough to let him go. He pulls his fingers from you and places them in front of your face, your tongue darting out of your mouth immediately to suck them clean.

A chuckle rumbles in his chest as you hear the unfastening of a belt from behind you, the jingle of the buckle sending a rush of heat to your still spasming cunt. The cloth covered bulge slowly reveals itself against your back and you gasp feeling the girth. He backs away from you slightly, pushing between your shoulder blades so that you are bent at the waist and you look down to see him tapping the fat head of his very impressively sized cock against your sticky folds.

"Look at you," he coos and you arch your back further. He responds by slipping his head inside of you, a gasp all you can manage as you stretch around just the tip. This man is more than you've ever taken in your life and he can tell by the way your thighs visibly shake. His hands find your hips and anchor you in place as a slow, deep, experimental thrust quickly becomes one deep, hard thrust that makes a clap sound through the entire freezer.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you chant as you look over his shouder. His long hair flies around his shoulders wildly and his jaw is tense, eyes focused on where your bodies are joined. The sounds coming from your messy pussy are obscene but neither of you seem to mind as his thrusts begin coming harder and harder.

Time is of the essence when you're fucking in a walk in freezer, after all, and he doesn't want to waste any.

If you weren't being so thoroughly fucked, you'd worry they can hear what's happening inside the freezer on the outside. You are simply too engrossed in the way every vein of his cock rubs against your walls to even care. Your jaw slackens as he slaps your ass again and he taunts you from above, on the edge of stuffing you full.

"You fit me so well sweet thing," he grunts, tipping his head back as he holds your hips in place and thrusts shallowly. He brushes against your walls just right and you squeal, head thrown back and face toward the ceiling as you clench and cream around his cock.

Panting, he thrusts one more time and stays nestled deeply inside of you to cum. You didn't ask him not to and you aren't complaining now, struggling to catch your breath in the cold freezer.

Realizing what you've done, you scramble to get away from him with widened eyes, his cum dripping out of you and into the seat of your slacks as you pull them back up over your thighs. He smirks at the sight, your sweet, soft skin marked with a red palm print.

"Are we good?" You ask, still panting and he nods, wrapping his fist around his cock and squeezing it once before wiping his hand on his shirt and pulling his pants back up. Despite the situation, you smile up at him and your gaze is softer than it has been during the entire interaction. He clicks his tongue and situates his belt buckle square above the button of his pants.

"Everything checks out here," his voice booms as you reach for the door to open it, two of your servers standing across from the freezer looking pale and concerned.

"Hi guys, he's just leaving." They nod and one of them reaches out, grabbing your shoulder and leaning toward you.

"Hey, OSHA's here..." they start and you furrow your brow, looking at the man departing through the busy kitchen. "Yeah, he's right there."

You point at Jiraiya and your server shakes their head, passing a paper in your direction listing the complaint of cleaning products being stored incorrectly. Peeking around the server, you gasp at the sight of a man in a safety vest standing at the kitchen door while Jiraiya is nowhere to be found.

"God damn it."

You grab the paper and fight the urge to crumple it in your fist, shaking as you head toward the kitchen door. The man standing at the door eyes you cautiously and you look around his shoulder to see if you can still see the man whose cum is currently dripping out of you.

"Uh, hey. I'm Asuma and I'm here to perform an inspection as a result of a complaint."

You nod, a tight smile on your face as you move out of the way and allow him into the kitchen.

#jiraiya x reader #kendall writes #slimeball alley on bastard blvd #slimeball collab

[zeninsama-moved]

not reader insert, not a ship, but a secret third thing. just your average day in the grimetown old folks home. inspired by the @bastardblvd slimeball superlatives lmaooooo and content warnings for jiraiya and kakashi being perverts lmao & some suggestive material

It pops up on the screen of Jiraiya's computer – the most enticing words he's ever read in his life.

DOZENS OF LOCAL BABES IN YOUR AREA – AND THEY WANT TO FUCK YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

"Me?" Jiraiya hums, both curious and delighted. He pulls his glasses up and squints, adjusting his eyes to the screen, wanting to see these so-called internet babes. "Let's have a look then, shall we?"

She's a green-eyed beauty with dark hair that's a little on the shorter side. The profile picture is simple but effective, staring at the camera with a seductive gaze, flashing just a tease of bare shoulder. Her skin is flawless, almost airbrushed. The makeup is a bit on the heavy side but Jiraiya can overlook it.

"Well, FreeLoadsFushi... let's see what you have to offer."

It's at this moment that his caretaker, Kakashi, arrives with Jiraiya's usual medication.

"Jiraiya-san, I have your–"

Even Kakashi is captivated by this woman, now slowly undressing in the small window on the screen. Loose white pants are sensually pulled down, revealing thick and muscular thighs – surprising, but welcomed nonetheless. Kakashi sets the paper cup onto the desk. Jiraiya downs the pills dry, then chases it with the water, unable to look away from this hypnotizing woman. The silver-haired nurse leans closer, bracing his arm on the back of his senior's wheelchair. "What are you watching, Jiraiya-san?"

"It's my lucky day, Kakashi-san," Jiraiya laughs, giddy. "I've been reached out to by the internet. Apparently there are dozens of hot babes in Grimetown – and they want me! Can you believe it? Maybe I could set you up with one."

Both men makes a pleased sound when the woman turns around, exposing the fattest ass either of them has ever seen. It even swallows up the scrappy lace panties she's wearing. Her hands grab at the fat and squeeze, letting it spill through her fingers, and it jiggles when released.

That may the thickest, most voluptuous ass Jiraiya has ever seen in his life. Her hands are... considerably large, but that's okay. He's never shied away from a woman with some meat on her bones.

There's another profile in the corner of the screen, HotMcDManager24. This girl is more slender, barely filling out her polo shirt, with beautiful blue eyes and dark hair pulled into a ponytail under her McDonald's visor.

How naughty, Jiraiya thinks. Taking pictures of yourself at work. I'll come back for you.

The old man sits back in his wheelchair and entertains the thought. Laying back in his reclined bed, beautiful women on either side of him, kissing and caressing his body, but his fantasies are disrupted when another pop-up add blocks the video.

UNLOCK THIS BABE'S CONTACT INFO FOR FOUR EASY PAYMENTS OF ¥3500

It's a no-brainer, right?

#mercury speaks #slimeball alley on bastard blvd #THIS MAY BE INCOMPREHENSIBLE BUT I HAD THIS THOUGHT AND I'M CACKLING

[hylianengineer]

AUGH, Gaines is such a slimy piece of colonialist scum! He thinks he's saving people! He says he's hurting people to save the colony of Austrailia from evil and he BELIEVES IT! He compares himself to Jack, hurting people in order to help them as a surgeon does, even killing them by accident, though despite his attestations to the contrary he doesn't seem too broken up about it, and he certainly doesn't intend to learn from it. This isn't a mistake to him, it's acceptable losses! He's killed people and he's bloody pleased with himself!

And he believes every bit of cruelty that comes out of his mouth, doesn't he? Every single weasely little justification. He's too smug about it for someone who doesnt.

There's a commentary here on colonialism and punitive justice more generally but I'm too enraged to connect the dots eloquently at the moment. Punitive justice bad, no such thing as acceptable losses, people should not die over drunken shenanigans. Parallels with police brutality and also colonial violence against Indigenous people.

#aaaaarrrrggggfhhh he's so creepy! and i know for a fact I'm descended from slimeballs just like him #i hate him so much kudos to the actor for being such a detestable villain #artful dodger spoilers #the artful dodger #s1e6 bully in the alley

[emjiroki]

Slimeball!Gojo fic is at 2k right now and I've still gotta write the smut

#we're having fun #he might play with us a little on the counter in the middle of the bowling alley #no customers are around though just ijichi spraying the pizza oven with roach repellent #hes sleezy and sexy and i dont know what to do with him #slimeball! gojo #em talks 👄

[ryndicate]

Double Down ⨳ Yoshida, Denji

“Didn’t know you were into that stuff.”

warnings: fem body/pronouns, nudes posted without permission, drug use, exhibition, creampie, videos taken with permission, stepcest, infidelity, masturbation, handjob, some spit mentions, premature ejac, implied fuckery, implied theft, if there's more i am just too wacked out to see it so lemme know!

event: @bastardblvd 's slimeball alley collab !! my first submission of who knows how many to come, im gonna try to not go crazy with it, promise

notes: didn't realize until it was done that I could've made it much more slimy but its okay. We'll get 'em next time babes 😩 this idea is expanding on a little blurb I put in cassie's inbox once, i included it in the fic itself with some itty bitty changes

By expanding, you are consenting to viewing adult/dark content, and all warnings listed above. 18+ Minors DNI

Blog Rules/DNI

Your fist slams on the bathroom door. “I swear to god, Denji! Where the fuck did you get those! Delete them now!”

“I already told you, Power found them online!” Your stepbrother yells back through the door, keeping his weight against the handle so that you can’t force your way in.

“You’re full of shit you fucking perv! You took them off my phone or something.”

“Wanna fucking bet? The real perv is that prettyboy bastard you call baby,” Denji sneers back, yelping as you get a good shove in on the creaking wood.

Your efforts to break the bathroom door pause. “The hell’re you talking about?”

“I told you he was trouble the day you two met. What—you think I was lying?”

You growl under your breath at the barenecked taunt in Denji’s voice. Yeah he told you, one time before he got high out of his mind. The only reason you even met Yoshida Hirofumi was because he hooked your stepbrother up a couple times, and you begged to tag along once. That situation ended with your brother counting stars on his buddy’s ceiling while you saw them on the backs of your eyelids with the guy’s lips wrapped around your clit. 

One thing led to another, and that “prettyboy bastard” became your boyfriend. He’s a bit of an ass, but Yoshida’s also sweet and funny, doesn’t roll his eyes at your music choices, doesn’t bat an eye when you want to go out with your friends, and is full of sexy, smirky sass that makes him so fun to be around. Sure, you sent him some photos, but he wouldn’t have put them out anywhere.

Your anger deflates, but your indignance does not. You step away from the bathroom door. “He’s got nothing to do with this.”

Denji throws the door open with a toothy grin, repeating himself. “You wanna bet?”

“You know what, yeah!” you snap at him, crossing your arms as he leans in the doorway, still looking smug. 

“Your boyfriend put your pics up on OnlyFans, and he’s using the money to pay for his xanny. If I’m right, you two gotta upload a video. Together,” Denji states, his eyebrows furrowed in twisted delight that makes you sneer at him.

“You’re disgusting!”

“Yeah? Tell me what you get if you win.”

Caught up in his childish bullshit, you push at his shoulder. “You gotta start an OnlyFans if you’re wrong, which you are. And you gotta wear lingerie.”

His smirk full drops at that, and he glares at you, cheeks darkerning. “Now who’s a perv.”

“This whole shit was your idea!”

“Lingerie?”

“How is wearing lingerie worse than telling your stepsister to fuck and post a video about it?!”

“Shut up!”

“And since we’re on the topic, I swear to god if you don’t stop taking my shit out of the laundry I’m gonna tell that redheaded lady at the DMV that she’s at the very top of your fap list.”

His blush deepens and he palms your face backwards in a light push. “The fuck she is. Shut up.”

“Yeah well, me and the thin fucking walls in this apartment would have to disagree.”

“Go find your boyfriend.”

“‘M gonna.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck him,” you hiss in barely supressed rage, gripping your boyfriend’s phone so tight you’re disappointed when it doesn’t crack. 

You’d waited for his high to hit him and let him drift off before going through his phone—what’s the point of asking him outright if it’s not true, right? No reason to stir the pot. But your stomach had dropped with unease when the account site was in his search history; you tried to brush it off as maybe he gets off to a set of camgirls, but the moment you saw the login info presaved—as in frequent entry—you began to forget the bet altogether.

Now your jaw is clenched, seething as you scroll through every racy picture you ever sent him. Each have thousands of views, hundreds of comments and jeez—so many subscribers. The heat of betrayal simmers through you. Your jaw drops at the total that’s set to drop into his account at the end of the week and resist the urge to slap Yoshida awake, but instead you set about trying to change the banking and login info, only to get halted by an infowall. Frustrated, you slip off the bed and call your stepbrother, edging into Yoshida’s bathroom so you don’t wake him up.

“You were right, and you fucking knew it, didn’t you? You set me up.” you hiss into the device as soon as he picks up with a mumbled ‘sup. You can hear voices and music in the background, paired with light explosions. You assume he’s out with his friends, probably gaming like usual. 

“You didn’t have to agree. Wait—” there’s the sound of the phone moving around and suddenly the music is gone. “Does that mean you’re gonna do it?”

“That’s besides the point, Denji!”

“Oh fuck, you are!”

“Chill your boner,” you snap, “‘m not gonna do it unless you help me!”

“Help you? What, like you want me to hold the camera or something?”

“Denji, I swear to god—”

“I’m kidding, jeez.”

“I can’t change the account info. They’re my pictures, and they’re already out there! He shouldn’t get to make money off of me.”

“Wait, so you want to keep the account?” He asks curiously. You hear a door slamming and wonder if he’s still moving, or if his friends are.

“Dude, we’ll have rent and anything else covered for the whole month with a single week’s drop from this thing. I don’t see a reason not to. I can quit Mcdonald’s!”

“Shit, for real? Lemme talk to Denki, ‘m pretty sure he knows a guy.”

“Thank you,” you coo into the phone.

“Yeah, yeah, just make sure you pay up.” You can hear his pervy smile, and you grumble a sulky fine at him.

“Ok. But he’s gotta do it soon. It pays out in a couple of days.”

“I’ll give him some cash to see if he can do it tonight. Don’t see why he’d say no—" Denji sounds a lot further away from the phone now, "—Oi! Don't bro! Give it back."

A familiar voice purrs into the receiver and you roll your eyes. "Heyyy, princess. You with that Yoshida guy still or are we allowed to hang now?"

"Byeee, Kiri. Tell Kat hi f'me." You hang up with a smile and leave the bathroom, glaring at your supposed boyfriend still sleeping. You never heard him say he was working and you always kinda wondered where he was getting his cash, but you always just thought he was dealing or something. Not the kind of think you ask about. You obviously should’ve asked.

You crawl into his lap and begin sucking on his exposed throat, admiring the sharp lines, the bob of his adam’s apple as thick lashes flutter open. 

“Mmm,” Yoshida moans. “Damn, was I out long?”

“Nah,” you hum, slipping your fingers up his shirt, smoothing over his waistline. “Got bored without you, that’s all.”

“Yeah, baby?” He grins up at you, dark eyes fuzzed out and sultry, and his hands come up to settle on your hips, easing you into a slow grind. “Wanna do something?”

“Mm. Maybe,” you tease softly, pushing his shirt up his chest and leaning down to wrap your lips around his nipples. He groans at the warm, slick suction, arching into your touch. 

“Fuck, baby,” he breathes out, his cock swelling beneath you. 

“Maybe I wanna do something…different.”

Yoshida grins up at you, half-lidded. “Yeah? Like what?”

Your nails make pink lines down his chest as you lean in to whisper in his ear. “What if you fucked me, and we let some people watch?”

His fingers dig into the fat of your waist, his dick thumping beneath you. “Anyone I know?”

Yoshida’s pupils have overtaken his coal irises, and you give him an inviting smile. “No one specific. I was thinking more like…a video or something. I wanna be able to see it later.”

“Holy fuck, baby. That’s sexy,” Yoshida grins up at you. “Didn’t know you were into that stuff.”

“Me either,” you breath softly, rocking yourself over his covered erection.

You’re left to yelp as he displaces you from your seat on his lap and pulls you out of the bed by your wrist with a wide smirk. “Come on.”

“Wait, where are we going?”

“Don’t worry baby, I just wanna pick something up at the Malmart first.”

“Fine, I guess,” you pout at him and his smirk only grows.

“‘S okay, baby. I’ll give you something too.”

“This is not what I meant when I said video, Hirofumi!” you gasp out. Your fingers are splayed out on the hood of his car as you try to stay upright. “Someone could actually see us!”

"If you don't wanna be seen, you gotta cum. Cause I'm not stopping til you cum."

"Fuck, fuck please, just hurry up!" You plead, half your words caught between whines and whimpers as he pounds into you from behind, your skirt flipped over your back.

"You think I'm not fucking you like I mean it?" There's so much smile in his voice that you want to call him on his bullshit for once, but the solid smacking of his hips into yours, the head of his dick pressing as deep as it can go with every thrust quickly makes you forget what you're snapping at him for.

"Just‐just, fucking make cum– ‘fumi!" You're desperately telling yourself you don't want to be seen. It's the middle of the night, so even here, parked under the one of the many lightposts that don’t work in grimetown's 24-hour walmart parking lot, the risk of anyone seeing is slim.

But not zero. Especially with the light from his phone camera shining down on your exposed lower half. You’re like a slutty beacon for whoever might be looking this way.

"I'm working on it baby, you gotta relax." His fingers slide around your waist, brushing past your clit and forcing a frustrated whimper past your lips at the neglect, to drag them through the slick dripping obscenely from your pussy lips. It's dripping to the rusted black hood, making it glisten. He aims the camera down at them before moving it back to the way your pussy clings to his cock. "You're so fucking wet for this, you'd think the whole thing was your idea. Well, most of it was."

You don't answer him, trying to work yourself back on him, chasing that fluttering heat twisting itself tighter and tigher with each passing second.

"Good girl, look at you. Fuck, look how bad you want—"

"Oi! Get the fuck out of here before I—"

Your whole body locks up at the tired but authoritative voice that rings across the lot.

Your boyfriend calls back. "C'mon man, have a heart. Let me finish her off and I'll give you a look." Except his last syllable staggers off with a groan, broken with a laugh as his grip on your hips tightens to a bruising pressure. The vice grip of your cunt has him looking down to sees your juices gush around the girth of his cock, dripping down your thighs to dirty the hood of his car even more. The sight pushes pushes him over and he calls out again, his voice tight but smug.

"Nevermind, we're done here."

He gets one last shot of his cum dripping out of you before closing out the livefeed.

“It’s like four in the morning,” Denji grumbles, rubbing one of his eyes as he cracks his bedroom open further at the sight of you. “Thought you were Power or somethin’, jeez.”

Denji blinks the blur from his eyes, zeroing in on your screen, and you just about hear his pupils expanding. He pulls a shaky inhale and you roll your eyes.

“Done. Bet over, and here’s your damn proof,” you grumble right back, slamming your phone against his chest and shoving your way into his bedroom to flop down into his bed. It had taken over an hour to convince Yoshida back to his place and get him to fool around enough for him to pass out and you to sneak back home.

"Also Kiri wants you to call him back. He's mad you hung up on him."

A small grin curls your lips but you don't respond, wiggling deeper into his mattress until you're comfortable.

He throws himself down in the bed next to you. “Turn on my speakers.” 

“Or you could just wear headphones, you freak.”

“Nah. Turn ‘em on.”

With an exaggerated sigh, you stretch out to reach up to his desk, turning on the bluetooth speakers that he usually uses to be a nuisance when he’s smoking. “If your dad was home, I’d kill you for this.”

“You’re not even breaking up with him, are you?” Denji chortles, ignoring your bickering. His eyes are glued to the screen as he shoves a hand into his loosened shorts. “What the fuck, you guys were outside?”

You shrug. The video’s only been up for a couple hours and it already has triple the views and donations of all the photos Yoshida has put up so far. “Looks like he’s gonna be making me lots of money, so why not? It’s the least he could do to pay me back.”

Your stepbrother doesn’t answer you, his breathing getting heavier. You close your eyes and sigh as the sounds wet sounds and your own whiny moaning starts bouncing off the walls of his room, wondering to yourself if you really sound like that or if part of you was exaggerating because of the camera. The mattress creaks every now and then as his hips jump, his arm brushing your side as he grinds into his own fist. 

You roll to face him, taking in the sound of his stuttered breaths, the muted slick sound of his fist pumping in his shorts. “So what about this gets you so riled up?”

Denji groans, stomach rippling where his shirt is pulled up around his midsection. “I’nno, it’s hot, isn’t it?”

You keep prodding, “What is? Yoshida? Or me?”

He gives a small whine that has your pulse picking up in sick interest, so you continue. “Was Power really the one to find it? Or…you were subbed to the account, weren’t you Denji?”

“Mm- maybe?”

“Shit,” you whisper to yourself, listening to your own voice begging to cum, shifting your weight onto your arm so you can look at him. A strange curiosity has taken over your body. He looks wrecked but his eyes are still on the screen. “Denji, look at me.”

Your body tingles as his eyes tear towards you, but he’s still got a hand around himself, hidden from your eyes. “Can I touch it?”

“You wanna what?” he moans, just barely, teeth digging into his lip.

“Can I jerk you off?”

You’re a little surprised when he actually hesitates. You’ve tolerated it all this time; as much as he pervs out on you, and your stuff, yet somehow he’s got a little crumb of morality left in there somewhere. And right now…you wanna kill it.

“My panties, my pictures…is this really any different?” you ask softly, sweetly, as you run with this electric current, placing your hand over his covered groin. You grin as his hand immediately goes slack at your touch and slips out of his shorts, and you get to feel for the first time how hard he is, rubbing over the smooth fabric, feeling out the shape of him.

“I mean…I guess not.” He sucks in a breath as you grip him over his shorts and give a couple experimental strokes. “B-but what about—?”

Denji’s head drops back to the pillows with a groan, phone in a death grip as you tug his waistband down, his dick slapping free. It’s pretty and slender, flushed deep red.

“What about what?”

“What about prettyboy, huh?” He finally gets it out as you spit in your hand and take him up again, stroking him steadily from base to tip, squeezing at the top with a gentle twist of your wrist. Yoshida always seemed to like it, seems like he does too. 

“That’s what you’re worried about? Not the whole stepsister thing?” You shrug. You’re still stung about Yoshida’s betrayal, so this feels like a little bit of retribution. A little bit. You still need to find more ways to make him pay first, but this is a good start. “Yeah, he’s my boyfriend, but ‘s not like you and me are dating, Denji. It’s a handjob. What’re you gonna do, marry me?”

Denji splutters and his dick throbs in your hand. “Don- Don’t say stupid shit!”

You coo at him and his lips part, panting hard as you work him faster. 

“What– haa, what if it wasn’t just a handjob? What then?” Denji gives a low moan as you settle over his lower thighs so you can gently cup his balls. They seem to tighten under your touch, before he relaxes and he tries to look at you. 

“What, like my mouth or something?” you ask playfully, leaning over and showing him your tongue, letting a strand of spit drip down to his dick.

A litany of curses tumblr from his mouth as Denji squeezes his eyes shut, fingers twisting into the pillow beneath his head as his cock jerks and shoots a load of hot sticky white into your palm, getting smeared down his throbbing shaft as you slowly work him through his high until only a couple dribbles get pressed out by a final pass of your thumb over his slit.

“Wasn’t expecting you to finish already.” You wipe your hand off on his comforter and try to ignore the throbbing in your panties. You feel like you can still imagine the slick from earlier tonight seeping out of you, but it’s as if it’s no longer enough.

“Holy fuck,” he mumbles under his breath, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes as he calms his breathing enough to raise himself up on his forearms. He watches you as you take your phone and flop down next to him. “I didn’t even get to see the rest of the video.”

“It’s online now, freak. You can watch it whenever.”

“Yeah...” 

You’re too busy trying to go through the account settings to notice the way he’s eyeing up your thighs; he hasn’t even put his dick away yet. 

“Hey,” he mutters softly, ignoring your glare when he puts a hand on your thighs and pulls them open. “If you can touch me, does that mean I get to touch you?”

Your pulse jumps and you try to keep your true thoughts hidden as you hide back behind your phone. “I guess that’s fair. If you wanted to.”

You can hear the click of Denji’s throat as he swallows, and you can’t stop the low whimper as his calloused fingers brush your inner thigh, right at the edge of your panties. 

They’re warm as they brush over the seat of your panties, timid but curious as they explore the surface, stroking over the tempting warmth and wet seeping through the thin fabric. A bolt of pleasure bursts and has your gut clenching as he swirls over your clothed clit

“H-hey, wait,” you say suddenly, nerves getting the better of you as you try to make sense of Denji taking control of your body. “It got switch but this isn’t my banking info. Is it yours?” You flip the screen towards him, and his brown eyes squint in the pale blue light.

“Uh, nah, that’s not mine.”

You mewl as he pulls your panties to the side and traces a finger through your folds, delicate, hungry. “Who did you say– mm, h-hacked the account for me?”

“I told you. M’friend Denki, his buddy did it. That purple-haired guy who works at the smoke shop.”

“The one wi—” you suck in a breath as he sinks his index finger into you. “With the tattoos?”

“Yeah him,” Denji mumbles, hardly paying attention to your words. He’s grinding against the bed as he pushes his middle in alongside it, imagining the tight squeeze around his dick instead.

Your groan is part pleasure, part dismay as you realize just who he’s talking about. “Oh fuck me.”

Denji bullies his way between your thighs in an instant.

“N-no, Den– that’s not what I meant!”

#csm x reader #yoshida x reader #denji x reader #yoshida hirofumi x reader #denji smut #yoshida smut #csm smut #chainsaw man smut #chainsaw man x reader #tw::stepcest

[bastardblvd]

submitted entries for the slimeball alley on bastard boulevard collab event. please be mindful of content warnings and boundaries set by authors. want to join? read our guidelines here.

KEY: 🦠 = NSFW ⚠️ = DARK CONTENT

"DOUBLE DOWN" by @ryndicate 🦠 ⚠️

fem reader x slimeball!hirofumi yoshida, reader x stepbro!denji

"didn't know you were into that kinda stuff."

"SAFETY FIRST" by @strawberrystepmom 🦠

fem restaurant manager!reader x fake OSHA inspector!jiraiya

when an inspector unexpectedly comes to your restaurant, you figure out how to get yourself out of trouble.

"A RIDE FOR A RIDE" by @thus-spoke-lo 🦠

afab reader x taxi driver!zoro

it's 3am and walking home from your shitty job at the diner seems like a drag, so you call a cab, hoping for a quick trip back to your apartment so you can finally catch some sleep. your moss-haired, muscle-bound, directionally-challenged cabbie definitely gives you a ride you didn't expect.

"COMPLIMENTS TO THE CHEF" by @thus-spoke-lo 🦠

afab reader x slimeball line cook!sanji

a few nights pass after the sordid events of "a ride for a ride", and you're working another late night shift at franky's flapjack shack with sanji, that damned pervert cook. sanji manages to piss off your only remaining customer for the night, leaving the two of you alone in the restaurant. soon, things start to heat up in the kitchen--and not just because that one oven door won't close all the way.

"TITS FOR TAT" by @bloompompom 🦠

sorority girl!reader x tattoo artist!eren jaeger

"i hope you have a good idea about how you're going to pay for that tattoo..."

"DELIRIOUS" by @saccharine-darlin🦠 ⚠️

fem camgirl!reader x slimy sex shop owner!gojo x sex shop employee!getou

"your conservative town is something you've never thought that would let a sex shop pop up, it seemed too good to be true, and little did you know after the first time you visited you'd be caught in a web by the two perverted men who run it and quickly you learn that they always get what they want."

“PAY UP!” by @zeninsama 🦠

fem babysitter!reader x designer sunglasses model!gojo satoru

satoru's poor time management has you working overtime, and this cheap bastard has something other than cash to pay you with

"GOD BLESS ME, IT'S SUMMER" by @dolcezzzza 🦠

afab reader x slimeball ice cream truck driver!nicholas d. wolfwood

"open up."

"TRIPLE STRIKE XXX" by @em-plosion 🦠

new employee!reader x bowling alley owner!satoru gojo

"the animated neon signs glowed brightly against the wet pavement and the ‘help wanted’ flier in your hand. having to move to this hell hole of a town was bad enough but trying to find a job in it was worse, at this point this shitty bowling alley seemed to be the best option."

"HANDS TO YOURSELF" by @agirlwithapen 🦠 ⚠️

reader x dirty old man!kishibe

you’d purposely chosen the early morning transit. today was a big day, you see. you were interviewing for a position your friend had offered. it was your chance at stability, financial stability. “first impressions count.” you remember telling your soon-to-be boss over email. they do.

"CAN I HAVE A NUMBER 5?" by @gunfiendbabymama

yuuta okkotsu vs. aki hayakawa

the mcnuggets showdown.

“HONEY TRAP” by @maliciouslove 🦠

fem reader x slimeball starbucks barista!denki kaminari

having a slimebucks apron is equal to having unlimited rizz (source: me) and denki proves it by bedding his brand new colleague on her very first day of work.

“THE HR FILES” by @if-dreams-do-come-true ⚠️

afab reader x corrupt cop!kishibe

kishibe is a shameless corrupt cop with a penchant to make inappropriate advances at fresh faced interns and the reader is unfortunately his newest victim.

"STICKLER" by @princess-okkotsu 🦠

after a run-in with grimetown's sleazy cop nanami, you've come to the dmv to replace the sticker that was stolen off your car from a certain freeloader. you've got to convince the dmv employee, a stickler for the rules, that you quite badly need this problem squared away today.

#slimeball collab directory #LET'S GOOOOOO #kissing u all on the head rn #stepdaddy merc

[cyancherub]

megumi tells toji he needs a laptop for school and toji tries to steal a chromebook off the walmart display shelf but it doesnt work so he makes megumi go to the apple store every day after school to do his homework on their display laptops

#megu is like why cant i just go to the library but its currently shut down because no one in grimetown reads books except for k.ogami #slimeball alley on bastard blvd #freeloader!toji

[dabisqueen]

I'm supposed to write two fics for the Slimeball Alley Collab. What I am writing instead: virgin yandere Dabi noncon.

Well done, Liz.

#my brain #😫 #queen blabs #yandere dabi

[oh-katsuki]

got any blog recommendations?

HELLO YES!!!!!

@cyancherub posts fantastic chainsaw man content and is very funny and also so cool. cass's writing is sooooo so sexy and you can tell that she has fun with it when you read her work. it definitely translates into the work itself. also her slimeball alley au (@bastardblvd) is so fucking funny.

@prettyboykatsuki remains one of my absolute favorite blogs. fang has so much insight on series and their way of writing has so much love and care for the characters. like you can always tell how much thought goes into characterization when you read things they wrote.

@strafepanzer writes such incredible content and always has so many fun fic ideas. like going to leese's blog is like seeing a treasure trove of fics that all fall under "huh i would LOVE to see a fic about that"

@tteokdoroki aali's blog is SOO FUN and she is the sweetest person to talk to. her kinktober series is an absolute fucking BANGER and her love of the characters she writes for shows in her work.

@spacelabrathor i will ALWAYS ALWAYS ALWAYS recommend cee's blog when people ask for recommendations because i think cee's writing is so fucking fantastic. all of their work just hits differently and there is so much passion, thought, and care behind everything she posts.

@mintmatcha mint is so so skilled at writing angst. their concepts are all so beautifully put and the ideas themselves are gut-wrenchingly sad. i would absolutely recommend their blog if you're a fan of well-done angst!!

here are some blog recs!!! they're the first ones that come to mind and ones i regularly check on when i have the time

#[ 🏩 – chatting ] #i also have some artist blog recs that i can give if you're interested in those! #blog recs

[rossithepixie]

I set up my drawing desk, got out my supplies, lit my candle for vibes.. and now i’m just sitting here reading @bastardblvd blog going through all the slimeball alley headcanons cackling like a witch instead of drawing

#the pixie speaks

[brokehorrorfan]

Sorority Babes in the Slimeball Bowl-O-Rama 2 will be released on Blu-ray and DVD on April 11 via Full Moon Features. The 2022 horror-comedy is a sequel to the 1988 cult classic.

Scream queen Brinke Stevens - who starred in the original - makes her feature directorial debut from a script by Kent Roudebush (Zombies vs. Strippers, Gingerdead Man vs. Evil Bong). Charles Band produces.

Kelli Maroney, Stevens, Michelle Bauer, Audrey Neal, Jessie Gill, Glory Rodriguez, Katie O'Neill, Luka Parente, Hannah Tullett, and Derek Jeremiah Reid star.

The only special features are Full Moon trailers. Check out the trailer and synopsis below.

The Pi-Ep sorority house has seen better days, but the girls are intent on gaining some new recruits. With housemother Auntie Snake as their guide, the naughty hi-jinks and hilarity begin. Meanwhile, though, the Bowl-O-Rama bowling alley has had a break-in, and a breakout. With the escape of the magical and murderous Imp, it's a fight for survival, with only one mysterious girl holding the answers to the riddle of the Imp's wish.

Pre-order Sorority Babes in the Slimeball Bowl-O-Rama 2.

#sorority babes in the slimeball bowl-o-rama #kelli maroney #brinke stevens #michelle bauer #horror #full moon features #charles band #dvd #gift #scream queen #80s horror #1980s horror #horror comedy #sorority babes in the slimeball bowl-o-rama 2

[emjiroki]

Jujutsu Kaisen Masterlist ♡

Yuuji Itadori ♡

Birthday Post: Yuuji x Reader x Megumi

Firsts Collab: Yuuji Itadori x Reader 18+

Money Maker: Underground Fighter Au 18+

Soft Boy headcanons

Sex me up collab: pro boxer Yuuji x reader

Yuuji/Sukuna cockwarming

Yuuji/Sukuna cockwarming pt 2

Gojo Satoru ♡

Angel Blue: Gojo Satoru x Reader 18+

Triple Strike XXX: slimeball collab Bowling Alley owner Gojo

Megumi Fushiguro ♡

Pushing the Limits: Megumi x Reader 18+

Toji Fushiguro ♡

In the morning, I'll be gone: Toji x Reader 18+ drabble

Smutty snack: 18+ Toji x Reader

Yuuta Okkotsu ♡

Humid: pool boy Yuuta x Lonely housewife reader

Obsession: pool boy Yuuta x Lonely housewife reader pt 2 TW DARK CONTENT

Alpha Yuuta rut drabble

Thirst Drabble

Geto Suguru ♡

Sacred: vampire cult leader Geto x Reader

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #yuuji itadori x reader #yuuji itadori smut #megumi fushiguro #megumi fushiguro smut #toji fushiguro #toji fushiguro smut

[ryndicate]

꘏ Ryn ꘏ she/her ꘏ 20s ꘏ Oliver's Most Reliable Hookup ꘏

ㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤ     ㅤ ꘏ main @darlingsanzu ꘏

꘏ masterlist ꘏ byf/dni ꘏ Bootycall101: Don't catch feelings ꘏

⨳ Recents ::

45 — Soul Evans

Double Down — Yoshida, Denji

Hypothermic — Todoroki Touya

As you wish — Thorkell

Guilty Pleasure — Sukuna

Chapter iv of ADiT — Fushiguro Megumi

⨳ Upcoming ::

⨳ 2023 Summer Night’s Anthology Event

Kirishima x female reader :: Cupid's Arrow (Draw)

›  Pro Hero AU, dark content

Megumi x female reader :: ADiT (Ch. v)

› vampire au, non-curse au, historical au, magic au

Kurosaki Isshin x female reader :: Protect and Provide

› canonverse, infidelity, gratuitous daddy kink

Sae/Shidou x female reader :: ouch that turned me on

› noncon, college au, deg/praise

⨳ Current Collabs

›  Cyberpunk

›  Opposites Collide

›   what's done in the dark

› Into the Monsterverse

› Family Ties

› Slimeball Alley Event

#nav #the new one #links pls work