satoru puts his glasses on your face whenever he thinks you’re giving him bedroom eyes in public bc he really cannot stand to think about it or you for too long or he’ll be walking around hard in his pants for the rest of the day. the thing is, you’re not even trying half the time, but that doesn’t stop him—you flirt with him a bit too much, bat your lashes the wrong way, or even smile at him a little too long and he’s already feeling warm in the face and satoru knows he doesn’t have the self control to stop his thoughts so he has to stop you. he’ll promptly stick his sunglasses on your face and turn away with a sigh like they’re some kind of last minute sexual deterrent.
it’s not because then, if satoru thinks too hard, he gets stuck on the image of you in his glasses, of you in his clothes, of you in anything that belongs to him and that’s way worse then you smiling prettily at him or saying his name or touching his arm. so, then he has to kiss you, and then take his glasses back, so he has something to hide the burning blush on his face.
13K notes
·
View notes
" 𝐈 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 "
𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐁𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐉𝐎𝐂𝐊 — a confident athlete who turns into pathetic putty at the thought of you . . .
nsfw / sixteen + content / smut / gender neutral reader / yandere content / sub!yandere / masturbation / pervert yandere (he literally breaks into the locker room for your shit) / olfactophilia/osmolagnia (scent/smell kink) / dacryphilia (kink for crying) / breath play / yandere oc x reader
masterlist | requesting rules | character info . . .
a/n: haven't wrote smut in awhile, so im a bit rusty . . .
Lucas dangled the keys in his hands, a grin playing on his face as he walked towards the locker room—using the key to unlock the door—it was pretty easy grabbing the keys from the janitor's room, not that this school was particularly secure with their locks. It would be pretty easy breaking in, if he tried hard enough . .
Lucas scanned the area, looking through each locker trying to find which one was yours . . he had your lock combination memorized, though he did get a little help from a friend in order to figure it out.
His hands reached for the clothes that you had left in your locker, lifting it up to his face, eyes going half lidded as he inhaled your intoxicating scent, he felt his face growing warm and his body growing weak. Lucas leaned down onto the lockers for support, almost losing balance as he slid down onto the floor.
Lucas pressed the flimsy piece of clothing further onto his face, engulfing himself in your smell—so much so that he could almost taste you—all the while his other hand travelled downwards, clumsily unbuckling his pants in a hurry . . hasty movements contradicted his rational mind, not bothering to care if he'd get caught.
He slid his pants down, just enough to reveal his semi-hard cock—a soft whine escaped him at the feeling of the cold air—his free hand now teasing his tip, as he relaxed his body, closing his eyes shut . .—imagining how disgusted you'd be seeing him in this pitiful state— . . that really turned him on, he cussed under his breath at how pitiful and pathetic his thoughts were . .
Lucas wrapped his hand around the base of his cock, slowly moving his hand up and down—his vision growing hazy—as he let out breathy sighs of pleasure—whines growing louder when he moved his hand faster.
Lucas stuffed the clothing he took, and pushed it into his mouth—drool escaped the corners of his mouth—blocking his ability make a sound, as he moved his hand faster around his cock—little tear droplets stinging his eyes, as he felt his legs shake slightly at the sheer pleasure—he used his now free hand to pinch his nose, closing his only source of air . . .
All he could taste was you, the clothing taking away all the moisture in his mouth, as tears begin to escape his eyes, saliva escaping the corners of his mouth, dripping onto his clothing—his legs began to convulse—his back arching slightly, as he finally came, all over the floor . . .
Lucas spat out the fabric, "fuck", the bell rang . . How is he gonna clean up this mess fast enough? . .
@ rxmye , do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work/theme without prior permission and or confirmation.
3K notes
·
View notes
lena would struggle so hard to stop from giggling if she still had any capability of expressing emotions. imagine this dumbass who explicitly stated that she "wants your job" coming back from literally the first assignment looking like a wet malnourished cat storming into your office "What. The hell. Was that." like girlie my dear gwendolyn "he can read??????" bouchard its like lvl 1 Horror you havent even got to the real Horrors yet
2K notes
·
View notes