#can’t check your outline then bitch
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closed note... fuck closed note... literally even just a single page with keywords would be so helpful to me so i can trigger my memories. but nooo we have to completely raw dog all of torts as if we’ll EVER be in a situation where we have to list all relevant causes of actions and potential defenses without research
#oh yeah completely important that we be able to remember what the restatement (2d) and restatement (3d) have to say about abnormally#dangerous activities and WHICH a majority of jurisdictions have followed up to today. without checking notes.#oh it’s SO critical that we know ives by fucking HEART.#what if you’re on jeopardy and you have to tell them calabresi’s perspective on respondeat superior?? and your LIFE is on the line??#can’t check your outline then bitch
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do u take requests? if so can u write something about long schlong toji n make it nasty?
-not kali ;)
long schlong!toji that has you pinned to the mattress, his two hands at your waist pressing your body down with his fat dick knocking up against your tender cervix leaving you breathless and choking out broken moans. the speed of his hips snapping like crazy against your ass, his dick diving deep in your cum filled pussy that’s now swollen puffy from the second round of backshots he’s serving you tonight.
you knew exactly what it was going to be when he hit your jack around 2:45am, him already on his way coming from some dirty ass club he frequents on the weekends. the half drunk bottle of wine and stack of papers you had left to grade being pushed to the side the moment your phone blinged from his text. he told you “I’m otw be ready” and best believe you made sure you were when he pulled up; rushing to get into the shower to shave your pussy down, pinning your hair up and spritzing your body down with vicky’s tease crème cloud. it wasn’t even worth much because he looked a sweaty mess when you opened the door, pissy drunk with the smell of julio on his breath that you tasted when he pulled you into a sloppy hungry kiss. the scent of his cologne mixed with mint peach shisha around his collar and you could feel the outline of his gun that he keeps resting in his pocket pressing up against your thigh. he tells you all the time you don’t have to do too much for him, said he doesn’t give a damn about any of that prep shit you do. only ever wanting your throat and your pussy up and open for him when he calls.
like the ignorant bitch he is, he tore the skimpy lace lingerie off your pretty frame the second y’all hit the bed, a two piece from some boutique in town you saved two months of checks for. after this is done you’d ask him for some bread for the damages, but you have a feeling he already blew what he made off his corner today on bottles and strippers. just as quick as he ripped it off you, the thought of your ruined lingerie was long gone out your head with the way he’s fucking you goofy anyway. your pussy dumb sloppy wet and talking back to him from how stretched out he’s got you. another deep thrust and a rough slap to your ass, you’re whining out loud in sweet pain over the nba youngboy track that he loves fucking you too. a nb yb spotify playlist saved on your phone after dealing with him for as long as you been, his dirty ass been rubbing off you in more ways than one.
thinking you could try and run from the pain his fat dick brings, you hike one leg up the mattress but he tugs your body back towards him, fucking up into you balls deep with one hand wrapped around the back of your neck to hold your face down into the pillow, his right thumb that’s licked wet now rimming around your booty hole then pressing in, hooking up in you and the feeling of both your holes being poked up has you babbling out with a smile.
you can hear the way he smirks wickedly, amused by the way your body reacts then he’s taunts you, asking “who you running from!?”. a question you cant even moan out in response too because you can’t catch your breath from the force of his hips snapping against your ass punching the air out your lungs. you swear you can feel his dick in your liver, the type of pain that hurts oh so good and has you bringing a hand behind yourself to push him back by his stomach. that same hand he collects into his, pulling you back by the wrists with enough grip that has you almost lifting off the bed, his dick ramming right up into you with his other hand now catching you by the neck to hold you steady. a couple more good deep strokes and he’s cumming for the second time tonight, hot seed spilling into then out down your pussy, dripping through your phat folds.
you’ll be waking up the upcoming Monday an hour early before work to cover the bruises and hickies he left littered across your body. you can’t have your students looking at you with curious eyes and questioning what happened to their favorite homeroom teacher. and you for damn sure don’t have the guts to admit to other ladies you gossip work with that you broke a semester length of no contact and are back fucking him raw. y’all know he ain’t ever going to amount to shit, but it’s just something about fucking on a drug dealer that makes the coochie wet.
(@blkkizzat match my freak ho 💕)
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Eddie munson crop top... . .. I'm feral for it like foaming out the mouth, please. Maybe the reader sees Eddie at school with a cropped hellfire shirt because it shrunk in the wash. She's in hellfire club but can't focus on anything but Eddie at school. So he asks what's up and she gets all flustered or something like that .
*Hi I changed the context of the crop top a little bitch but I still hope you like it*
WARNING: SMUT
You saw your boyfriend before he saw you. He was at his locker putting some books away. It may have seemed silly a few months ago, Eddie Munson with textbooks, yea right, but when you guys started dating, he was motivated to take his education seriously. He wanted to graduate with his girl.
He looks beautiful as always, his hair sitting in sloppy curls that fit him just perfectly, his eyebrows slightly pinched in concentration, he probably didn’t even realize he was doing it, and his soft lips slightly parted. He is so handsome and he doesn’t even know.
But what really caught your attention today, wasn’t your boyfriend’s usual, beautiful features, no it was the shirt he was wearing.
At first you didn’t even notice it, but once you realize, you thought you were for sure drooling.
He was dressed in, what looked like, to be your Hellfire Tshirt. And since it was yours, well, it didn’t exactly fit him right. It was two sizes too small for him and it was obvious. The shirt was too tight, it was hugging his muscular chest so perfectly you can see the outline of his pecs. And it was tight around the arms, too, so you his muscular biceps were being shown off to anyone who paid attention. And whoever wasn’t paying attention was missing quite the show in your opinion. But no, what really did it for you was the length of the shirt. It was short. So short that you can see his semi-toned stomach and his happy trail. God it turned you on so much.
“He probably doesn’t even know what he’s doing” you think and shake your head.
Finally he notices you and gives you a bright wide smile and kisses you on the forehead.
“There’s my girl, how are you today lovely?” He asks sincerely. Looking right into your eyes.
That’s something you love so dearly about him, he always means his questions. He doesn’t ask for the pleasantries, he asks because he truly fucking cares.
But right now, you’re so focused on his attire that you can hardly formulate thoughts, let alone words.
“M-my morning was g-great, how was yours babe?” You ask stuttering and looking at the ground, knowing that you’re getting more turned on by the second and knowing you can’t do anything because you’re at school.
He looks at you strangely because of your response, but chooses to ignore it right now. “My morning was hectic, I woke up late and only had about 10 minutes to get ready for school, I had to choose between eating or brushing my teeth, and I think you’ll be glad to know that I chose to brush my teeth,” He teases with fake pride, “Oh! I also completely wore the wrong shirt, as I’m sure you’ve already noticed, which I appreciate you not saying anything, I’m a wee bit embarrassed by it, but I thought it was mine, but it’s obviously yours, by the time I realized it was too late for me to change.” He says, but then he takes noticed if your flushed cheeks and dilated pupils and he thinks he knows why.
“Y-yeah I noticed, I think you totally r-rock it though.” Y/n says, but Eddie heard her trail off at the end and he smirks to himself. He knew when his girl was turned on, and his girl was soaking through her panties right now, he could practically smell it.
He decided to mess around with her a little bit, knowing that he has the upper hand, which doesn’t usually happen, especially when you have a girlfriend as hot as y/n, usually he’s the one that’s a flustered mess.
“Are you okay love? You’re acting a little goofy.” He says as he trails his finger tips up her side, to her forehead, feigning ignorance as he tries to play it off as checking her temperature. He hears her breath hitch.
“E-eddie, I’m fine, we should hurry though, I-I don’t wanna be late for class.” Y/n says still not making direct eye contact with him.
“I really don’t think you should go, you’re acting strange, how about this, we skip first period and come back for the second class, since we have it together anyways.” He says.
“Where will we go Eddie?” He doesn’t miss that tone in her voice. He doesn’t even think she realizes she has that seductive tone, too horny to control it. It’s also the first time she makes eye contact with him today and he didn’t realize how dark her normally blue iris’s were. God he can’t wait to have her alone.
“Let’s go out in my van and just talk. Have an easy morning.” He says and he can practically see the gears going in her head, knowing that she will finally get some relief.
——————————————————————
They’re out and in the van and Eddie says, “What’s got you so flustered today?” Looking deep in her eyes and tracing hearts around her arm.
Finally in their own private space, Y/n is able to gather her thoughts. “Eddie, that shirt is so fucking hot, you don’t even have a clue do you.”
He smirks at her. “Well I didn’t until you were tumbling over your words and blushing at the mention of my attire.”
She scoffs, “Oh so this whole skipping first period was just a ploy to get me out here in the van.” She bites her lip and Eddie can already feel himself getting hard.
“Don’t act like you didn’t need this baby.” He says and leans in for a kiss which she happily returns.
It gets heated quickly and his tongue is down her throat within seconds.
Y/n quickly maneuvers herself to get on Eddie’s lap, as she’s grinding on his dick, she can feel him getting hard, both of their jeans getting in the way of the friction they’re both now craving.
Eddie moans in her mouth at the movement and she pulls away slightly, “Eddie we should move to the back.”
Eddie starts kissing down her neck. “Why what do we need the extra space for?” He says cockily.
She doesn’t have it in her to play his game, she just knows how badly she needs him right now, “Eddie, please.”
He smirks and a few moments later they find themselves in the back of the van, resuming their previous position.
Y/n pulls her lips from Eddie’s mouth to kiss and suck along his collar bone.
Eddie’s a moaning and panting mess, he’s at full mass right now and his jeans have never been more uncomfortable.
“Oh fuck, y/n baby, I need you so bad.” He moans out loud, and my god his moans are so pretty.
“Oh no, you tricked me out here, at least let me have my fun.” And he’s once again a whimpering mess.
She continues to grind against his dick and finally, she starts kissing at the hem of the shirt. Right where his stomach begins to poke out. He could feel her leaving hickies that will for sure be showing by the time they get back into the school.
She looks up at him just as she pokes her tongue out to lick at the start of his happy trail.
Seeing her like this makes him crazy and he thinks he might cum right in his pants.
He moans again, “Jesus fuck y/n” He moans out as he grabs her hair into a makeshift pony tail. “You’re so fucking good to me baby, so pretty when you’re like this, fuck” He moans out again.
Y/n let’s out a slight chuckle of triumph and begins unbuttoning his jeans. She does it so agonizingly slow.
She slips his jeans off of him and goes back up to his boxer covered dick, which is now standing at full height. She sees the wet spot on his boxers from the precum and she lets out a slight moan, one that does not go missed by Eddie.
She palms his dick though his underwear, “All of this for me? Fuck Eddie, you’re too good to me too.” She says as she kisses his tip through his boxers and Eddie’s hips jolt upward.
He’s a moaning mess, and y/n is positive that she could see a tear forming in his eyes, “Y/n baby please, i’m begging you. I need you to take me.”
“You want me to take you? In my mouth? Right now?” She says mockingly.
He sobs out, “y/n please.” He says and he reaches for the hem of his shirt to take it off, he was so turned on he felt like it was suffocating him.
But y/n stopped him before he could go any further, “leave the shirt on Eddie.” She says seriously, still palming him. He simply nods his head and looks into her, now black with lust eyes.
Within the next few moments, y/n was able to successfully removes his boxers and was now taking Eddie’s thick long cock in her mouth.
He sits up to watch because he loves seeing her like this, he grabs a handful of her hair and ruts up into her mouth, “oh fuck yeah hun, just like that, God you take me so fucking good.”
y/n moans around his dick and looks up at him through her thick eyelashes. Even with her mouth full of his veiny cock, he’s sure he can see a slight smirk on her face.
He jolts up again and she gags when his dick hits the back of her mouth. The blowjob is sloppy and she has spit spilling out on both sides of her mouth.
Eddie’s not sure how much longer he can last, so he quickly pulls her head off and flips her around so that she’s laying down in the back of his van.
He looks down at her and smirks, she’s a heaving, sweaty mess. And he can’t wait to get inside of her.
He takes off her shirt and kisses the top of both her boobs that were still covered in her lacy black bra. He loves the bra and the contrast of the color against her skin so it stays on, at least for today.
He kisses down her stomach similar to how she did to him before and traces his finger tips along her sides, giving her goosebumps.
She wriths beneath him and he’s not sure how much more she can take before she starts begging for it, but if he’s being completely honest, he wants her to beg for it.
He unbuttons her jeans and slips them down and he can see the wet patch in her pink panties.
“Jesus H. Christ, this wet over a shirt?” He says condescendingly at he blows on her covered pussy.
“No, I’m this wet over my extremely sexy boyfriend in said shirt.” She says smartly.
He chuckles and placed a kiss on her stomach. No matter how horny, give her the opportunity and she’ll be a smart ass.
He pulls her underwear down to reveal her pink, wet cunt and he licks his lips.
“So fucking beautiful” He says and traces his tongue up her slit.
She lets out the most pornographic moan that only encourages Eddie further.
He sucks on her clit and laps at her wetness until she is a moaning mess.
However, he wants her to beg for his cock. He wants her to prove how horny she really is for his crop top.
He shoves two fingers into her cunt and starts nipping and licking at her inner thighs. “Tell me what you need baby” He eggs her on.
She moans beneath him and juts up into his fingers.
“You have to use your words honey.” He says with a smirk and looks up at her.
She lets out a frustrated groan, but finally gives into his game, “Eddie I need your cock so fucking bad, please”
He shifts her around on her hand and knees, both of their favorite position, and he shoves his dick deep inside of her tight cunt.
They both let out a moan at the feeling, she could feel him hitting the spots that she needed him to and he could feeling her tightness ready to milk him at any second.
He’s pounding into her from the back with both hands gripping her ass and they’re both a moaning mess.
He could feel his orgasm approaching when she says, “Let me get on top, I wanna fuck you while watching you wear my shirt.”
He thinks he can cum right now if she asked, but eventually they maneuver until she’s on top and he’s looking up at his goddess of a girlfriend.
Her strong thighs are allowing her to move roughly and quickly on his dick and he watches as her tits bounce in her bra and her head is thrown back in pleasure.
He reaches up to cup her boobs and he thrusts his hips to match her pace, making their fucking harder and rougher.
“Oh fuck baby, you ride my cock so fucking good, you’re such a fucking good girl.” She moans out at this dirty talk and he knows that she’s close, so he keeps egging her on.
“Keep going baby, just like that, fucking princess, taking my cock so good in your tight little cunt. You fucking love every second of this. You know what you do to me.” He pulls her bra down so that her nipples are released and he pinched them roughly.
Apparently this is all it took for her cum, because next thing he knows she’s a moaning mess on top of him and he can see her juices flowing out around his cock.
The erotic image of his girlfriend orgasming is enough to send him over the edge and the next thing he knows is that he’s gripping his girlfriend roughly by the hips and fucking hard into her.
He moans out as he shoots his first cum rope into her pussy, but she hops off and finishes him off with her hands.
He watches as the last three ropes shoots up onto y/n’s stomach. It gets all over her hands and some even makes it in her face.
“Oh holy fuck, baby that was the biggest orgasm you ever had.” She says to him with a giggle as she starts playing with the cum in her hand. He moans at the sight of his girlfriend doing this, but he wants to see something else.
“Show me your cunt.” He says out of breath and she sits back and spreads her legs, where he can see her pink pussy glistening with both of their cum.
“Fuck you’re so fucking sexy y/n” He says as he leans forward to kiss her and lick away whatever cum got on her face.
She giggles at the feeling and kisses him back.
“I love you much y/n.” Eddie’s says sincerely.
“I love you, too Eddie, you should wear my shirts more often.” She replies out of breath and they both laugh.
“Where’s that blanket, we need to get cleaned up and get to class.” Y/n says and Eddie rolls his eyes playfully.
“Whatever you say princess.” He says with a wink
———————
They walk back into the school together, hand-in-hand. Just in time for their second period class with Mr. Jameson.
Unfortunately still, Eddie doesn’t have another shirt to wear, and now he has hickies scattered all around his torso, so more people were talking now than they were before, but funnily enough Eddie wasn’t so embarrassed of the shirt anymore.
As they walk into the classroom, Mr. Jameson, looks Eddie up and down in disgust while their classmates talked in whispers behind their hands.
“Mr. Munson, don’t you think your attire today is highly inappropriate?” Mr. Jameson asks.
“My girl doesn’t think so.” Eddie says with a smirk.
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson imagine#eddie x reader#stranger things#eddie munson smut#perv!eddie
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Netflix being a bitch and canceling Every Good Queer Show Ever is absolutely not going to stop me from posting about DBD, so if you’ll allow me I am going to be so incredibly normal about my fanfic naming system for @painlandweek a couple of weeks ago (which was a wonderful event full of insanely talented fan works, go check out the collection on AO3 when it’s back from the dead)
This is more for me than anyone else, and it’s going to be a long one — incoming Overly Complicated Naming System under the cut
So, here are the names of my Painland Week fics:
1. Phantom Chills (sickfic)
2. Ghost Stories (myths/legends)
3. Spirit Moves (confession/first kiss)
4. Shadow Boxes (domestic au)
5. Dead Letters (canon divergence/casefic)
6. Vision Boards (free day)
7. Soul Searching (soulmate au)
They’re all [synonym for ghost] [plural noun], which started as an accident; I named Phantom Chills and Ghost Stories, realized the pattern, and ran a marathon with it. They also all have double meanings (a literal meaning and a figurative one) and I wanted both meanings to apply to each fic to the best of my ability. I think I did pretty well tbh, I’ve outlined the meanings/how I applied them as well:
- phantom chills: chills that aren’t real (i.e. as the result of a spell), can also be a ghost feeling cold (Charles relives the symptoms of his death)
- ghost stories: stories meant to scare your friends (like the one Fraser tells Charlie), can also be ghosts telling each other stories (like the ones Charles and Edwin tell each other)
- spirit moves: from “as the spirit moves” aka bring spontaneous (Edwin asking Charles to kiss him), can also be a ghost shooting his shot (also Edwin asking Charles to kiss him)
- shadow boxes: fighting inner demons (like Edwin’s internalized homophobia), can also be a ghost with a lot of boxes (Edwin and Charles had a lot of collectibles to pack before moving into the office)
- dead letters: letters you can’t deliver or return to sender (like Uncle Francis’s letter to Kit that can’t be delivered any more bc they’re both dead), can also be a ghost’s writings (Edwin — he wrote the poem)
- vision boards: pasting up ideas for the future (like what board games to play? Or just how nice it looks), ghosts playin board games (they do in fact do that this one was a bit of a stretch)
- soul searching: doesn’t end in an s, means finding yourself (like Charles and Edwin) and finding each other (like Charles and Edwin)
Alright that’s it lol sorry for the long post. SAVE DEAD BOY DETECTIVES!!!!
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Cheat on Your Bank—It’s Not Your Girlfriend
With apologies to those in consensually open or polyamorous relationships… I couldn’t help the central analogy of this article. It sprang fully formed from my brain when I was outlining this article—like Athena from the head of Zeus! Know that we still support you and your relationships are valid.
But I digress. The fact is you will face no punishment as a bank customer by cheating on your bank… or banks. They don’t get to dump you for being unfaithful. They don’t get to issue ultimatums (“Stop seeing Wells Fargo or I’m throwing your checking account out on the lawn and changing the locks!”) or threaten you.
The worst they can do is try to coax you to consolidate under one roof by advertising all the sweet deals they offer. And if these “sweet deals” can’t compete with the other banks you use, you can safely ignore them.
Keep reading.
If you found this helpful, consider joining our Patreon
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Okay!! I got the perfect idea for the req 😈
Kaeya sending his wife!reader suggestive pics when she's at work and she gets very shy seeing it but ignores him bc she has to get work done. When she gets home he's in a very revealing outfit, he pins her down on the bed & only rides her strap to get back at her. He does praise her a lot tho and promises to reward her if she's being good & stays still. ofc its dom!kaeya and subby reader🤭 (im uncomfy with being degraded so i'd appreciate it if u keep that out in the fic) thank you <3
Please tell me what u think of this ask 💗
thank you for the request <33 i love this kind of kaeya sm and i hope you like this!! i gotta start working on some of my fluff for kaeya to counteract all the smut ive been writing recently lolol
Payback's A Bitch
Kaeya x AFAB, Fem Reader || Smut || 2 641 words
“And, perfect!”
Kaeya grins to himself as he scrolls through the photos on his phone. All of them present him scantily clad, eye hooded and hand resting delicately on his waist. His fingers toy with the hem of his sweatpants, pulling it in such a way that it begins to reveal the hair at the base of his navel while simultaneously outlining his hard cock.
He knows that his lovely little wife is going to absolutely love the photo he’s taken, sending it to you with a grin on his face. Thankfully, you’ve left your read receipts on so he can see that you’ve seen the message. He watches excitedly to see those little bubbles pop up on the other side, anxious to see your response.
All he gets is the slow passage of time and no response from you. It’s not like you not to respond – anything he sends you is usually at least given an emoji or something really sloppily typed. As far as he knows, you just merely glanced at it and didn’t realise fully what he sent because he had too many clothes.
He strips down a little more, taking off his shirt and eye patch. This time, his pants are pulled down far enough to see the beginnings of his shaft, poorly hidden under his boxers. Kaeya quickly sends that off, not expecting you to see it immediately yet no response.
At this point he tries a barrage of images, only to be left on seen. At some point you stop looking, not even when he sends a video. It’s clear to him that he’s being ignored, but unfortunately for you his cunning mind was not about to let that happen without any sort of retaliation.
“Kaeya? I’m home,” you call out, pulling your phone out again to read his very straightforward message.
Get ready and find me. Check the box at the door.
The box in question contains Kaeya’s new favourite strap-on. Your face flushes a little as you imagine a needy Kaeya at your feet, clearly worked up from all the photos and videos he sent you throughout your day at work. You’re not sure what he’s got in mind but you know that he’s got you all melted down in the palm of his hand, more than just a little desperate to feel his touch against your skin.
Quickly, you make your way up to the bedroom after doing as he asked, deciding that it would make the most sense to find him there. The door swings open, Kaeya sitting on the bed with a shit eating grin as he eyes the straps sitting on your hips above the waist of your pants, pulling you in by them and bringing you to stand between his legs when he sits back down.
“Can’t stop staring huh?” he purrs, loving the attention you’re finally giving him.
“I got all dressed up nice and pretty just for you. Don’t you like it?”
He brings your hand to run down his exposed chest, button up barely buttoned and tucked underneath the almost skin tight pants that outline everything on the lower half of his body perfectly.
You lean down for a kiss, lips slotting together perfectly and you think that he’ll just let the two of you take your time with each other. Your hands rest on his shoulder, expecting to be able to just hold him when you’re suddenly thrown down onto the sheets, staring back up at that smirk he had before.
“W-what are you doing?” you gasp, whimpering a little as he takes off your bottoms and readjusts your strap accordingly.
“Punishing you. I haven’t been sitting around all day waiting for you just to have nothing to show for all that effort,” he grins, quickly working to lube up the toy.
“You’ve spent all day ignoring me sweetheart, you really think I’m going to let you off that easily?”
Your eyes go wide at the sound of his words, letting him continue as you try to figure out what to say in response.
“So now because you ignored me, I’m going to ignore you. But, unlike your cold shoulder I will repay your kindness for all this but only if you behave. How does that sound?”
You know that he’s asking you for your consent right now, pausing in his preparation to see if you’ll try to tell him off. When you nod in reply his playful face returns, easily straddling your hips after removing his pants. He keeps his shirt on, only unbuttoning the rest of it as he slots your cock between his cheeks, his own twitching at the thought of finally having you inside of him.
“Anything else?” you ask him.
“Nothing. Just keep your eyes on me, alright doll?” he replies, words turning to a soft moan as he sits down on your dick.
Kaeya takes your hands in his, fingers tightening as he slowly begins to bounce on your lap, biting his lip as he sets his own pace. You do just as he asks, wishing he would let go of your hands so you could touch him more. The way he looks on top of you always sends a chill down your spine, absolutely enraptured with the way his gaze keeps yours as though the lewd sound of his ass smacking against your body and the bobbing of his girth against his stomach was something he wanted to show off. You’re sure he actually does want to show off, practically preening under your watchful eye as his pace begins to pick up, making the noises slipping out of his lips even louder.
“Fuck – your cock feels so good,” he sighs, throwing his head back to show you the delicious expanse of his neck. You’ve never felt the desire to kiss him more than right now you think, wanting to feel the way his throat constricts with his needy noises and hold his waist to help guide his pace.
Like this however, Kaeya’s got you right where he wants you. He can see the way you want him to give you your freedom back, the instinctive bucking of your hips into him to hit that spot inside of him that makes him see stars. The way your eyes linger on parts of his body isn’t missed by him, smirking as you bring them back down to watch the spot where your bodies join.
“What are you thinking about baby?” he starts to croon, leaning over your body with your joined hands to pin them down at the sides of your head.
“Thinking about how pretty I look sitting on your dick? Or how badly you want to wrap that sweet mouth of yours around my cock? You’re doing so good just being a toy for me, just sit tight and if you make me cum then I’ll give you anything you want, alright?”
“Yes darling,” you manage to whimper, heart stopping at the close proximity of his face to yours.
Your hands clenched into fists as he lets go of them, instead holding you down by your wrists as he begins to bounce in earnest. Quickly, you match his pace with your hips and fuck into him, making sure to pay close attention to the noises he makes as you shift your hips around. Kaeya’s a good teacher and you know you’ve found your spot when he almost collapses onto your body at the feeling of the blunt head hitting against his prostate.
He presses kisses against your neck, eyes closed in bliss at the feeling of you fucking him just the way he needs without even having to ask. He’s a little proud he’s trained you so well, knowing that your reward will have to be just as sweet. His hips eagerly buck into yours, pretty noises pressed right up against your ear, stuttered words of praise making you even more anxious to please him.
“That’s it,” he starts, cutting off his own words with a hearty moan.
“You’re doing so good for me. I knew you could fuck me just the way I’ve been wanting you to. Now, just sit still and let me do all the work, okay? I did say it was a punishment after all.”
He sits back up, this time taking your hands and putting them on his waist. When your fingers dig into his skin lightly he shakes his head, almost about to scold you before you loosen your grip to his approval. Once he’s got himself back in position, he gives you a wink before resuming his previous pace, fucking himself recklessly as he focuses solely on pursuing his pleasure.
You resist the urge to buck into him, wanting to aid him but judging by the way his cock throbs as it bounces against his stomach it’s clear he’s enjoying himself. Kaeya looks back down at you, letting his moans sound even lewder as he sprinkles in calls of your name, making sure the aggressive way he slams down on your hips keeps you pinned under his weight. You try to take your hand off his hips, wanting to grab his cock to add to his pleasure but as soon as he feels your grip falter he shoots you a glare, reaching for it himself as soon as you resume your grip.
“Look how hard my dick is for you pretty doll, it’s so fucking desperate for you to touch it. See how much it’s leaking? That’s all just for you darling,” he groans, hand moving up and down his shaft quickly.
“You’re gonna make me cum – fuck – beg me for it. Tell me how badly you want me to cum for you,” Kaeya pants, barely able to hold back his incoming orgasm.
“Please cum,” you whine, digging your nails into him – without resistance, thankfully – as you do your best not to squirm under him.
“I want you to cum, please,” you continue to beg, eyes unable to leave his body as he cums with a loud moan of your name.
He seats himself fully on your dick, now grinding against it as his cock fucks into his fist. You watch his cum spill over his hand, some of it landing on both of your remaining clothes. Kaeya’s hand finally slows, beginning to languidly stroke himself, prolonging his pleasure with a satisfied groan. He shudders lightly as his body enters the post orgasmic haze, getting off of you and undressing the two of you fully.
“You got another round in you love?” he asks, parting your legs over his waist.
“Only if you want to,” you mutter, not wanting to force him into anything after all the effort he went through.
“Of course I do. I told my pretty baby I’d give her a reward, didn’t I?’
Before you’re given the chance to respond you gasp over the feeling of his fingers teasing your soaked slit, knowing that the damp spot underneath you was purely from watching Kaeya enjoy himself on your body. He leans over and presses a kiss to your lips at the same time as his fingers enter you, easily giving him access to your mouth. His tongue slips in immediately, stroking against yours as he kisses you. You can barely focus on the way his lips and tongue move, more preoccupied with the lewd sound of your wetness being fucked by his lithe fingers.
You moan against his mouth, hips bucking into his touch as he scissors you open in preparation for his cock. You can feel it hardening against your thigh, wanting nothing more than for him to be ramming his thick length into you.
“You want me bad, huh,” he says lowly into your ear, rutting against your thigh as you arch into him.
“I was good, wasn’t I? So I get my reward?” you ask, getting your response in actions, not words.
His length sinks into you as soon as you finish speaking, bottoming out and only giving you a moment to adjust before he starts fucking you at his own pace. He still seems pent up from earlier, your moans unable to be silenced as your legs wrap around his waist and nails scratch down his back. Kaeya watches hungrily as your tits bounce wildly at the rough pace he sets, your warm and tight pussy quickly reminding him why he was so obsessed with it.
“You did so well for me, made me cum so fucking hard. You want my cum, don’t you? Want me to fill you up all nice so you remember who you belong to? Remember why you don’t ignore me when I work so hard to make sure I look good for you?”
“Yes, yes, thank you Kaeya – you feel so good – I’m so sorry for ignoring you,” you cry out, hips writhing in his grip.
“It’s okay sweetheart. I know you were busy but now I have this pretty body to play with, don’t I?’ he teases, bringing both his hands to tease at your nipples.
Your pussy clenches tightly over him, making it harder for him to fuck you but he doesn’t care. He gropes at your tits, practically using them as leverage at the same time as his hips increase in pace and strength. The way he slams home inside of you every time makes you see stars behind your eyes, sobbing when you feel his tongue beginning to tease one of your stiff peaks as a finger starts to circle your clit.
“You’re so fucking tight,” he breathes against your chest, reveling in the fact that you’ve been reduced to whimpers.
“Fucking me wasn’t enough for you, right? I know you were desperate to have my cock splitting you in two. You’re so cute.”
He licks and sucks on you, the feeling of the suction against your nipple adding to your pleasure as your lower core tightens in anticipation for your rapidly approaching orgasm. Kaeya’s pace falters as you squeeze around him so tight he almost can’t pull out, only getting rougher with his mouth and fingers as he feels the sporadic way your walls clench over his girth to bring you to that peak.
“Cum for me,” he growls against you, his words finally giving you that final push you needed to cum all over him.
Kaeya’s glad you came quickly, unable to hold back as he folds your legs up to your tits, hands bracing themselves against the underside of your thigh and exposing your pussy to him. His eye stays trained on the way your lower lips spread to accommodate his size, fucking into you like an animal as he finally cums inside of you. You can feel his seed shooting inside of you, whimpering and moaning softly as his slowing pace draws some of it out of you, shaking under his weight and the pleasurable feeling of your orgasm as he draws it out for the two of you. Your arm rests against your eyes as you catch your breath, feeling Kaeya pull out of you and press kisses against your thigh.
“Pretty baby,” he coos, pulling your arm back to press some kisses against your cheek.
“You’re such a good girl, I knew you’d make it up to me despite ignoring me all day.”
Kaeya wraps his arms around you, pulling you over his body as he runs his fingers through your hair.
“Rest now, okay? I’ll be right here when you wake up. You deserve it.”
Kaeya’s warm words have you nodding, lazily pressing kisses against his bare chest.
“I love you so much Kaeya,” you mumble against him, brain much too murky to say anything more profound.
“I love you too,” he replies quietly, pulling your blanket over your bodies as he falls asleep with you.
#kaeya x reader#kaeya smut#genshin smut#genshin x reader#genshin impact smut#kaeya alberich x reader#genshin impact#genshin impact fanfic
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Sometimes You Can’t Fix It
[Day 3 dpxdc week 2023; Tim Drake // Eldritch Danny // Teeth]
MAJOR TW: BODY HORROR
I went full out with the descriptive body horror so if you are at all squeamish please take care of yourself if/when you read this.
It’s not often that Tim fails as Red Robin. Okay, setbacks yes, but full on failing the people? Not a common occurrence. It hurts. It always does. Dick says that if it doesn’t hurt, that means you’ve truly failed because you’ve lost your compassion and desire to save people. Tim is pretty sure that’s not strictly true but not sure enough to argue with him on it but that’s not the point.
The point is it hurts like a bitch to lose a civilian in your arms. He’s not sure what exactly Hugo Strange injected into this civilian (he looks so much like Tim it’s almost like looking in a mirror), but apparently he’s not reacting the way that Strange had intended. An allergic reaction to one of the ingredients?
The teen is writhing in Tim’s arms. He’s so thin…his body so fragile looking even as it thrashes around with a surprising amount of strength.
When he starts to seize, his skin ripples like its liquid and Tim almost drops him at the feel of it. He’s seizing for what feels like forever but is only about 33 seconds according to his mask visuals. He checks bre-he’s not breathing! He feels for a pulse and finds dead cold skin. His fingers shake as he presses them to the teen’s pulse point and he nearly cries when he feels a beat but it’s so far between one and the next. Skin ripples beneath his hands once more and this time odd protrusions start forming all over his body. They’re growing at alarming speed and Oracle is in his ear yelling at him to get back.
But he can’t. He can’t leave this kid. That scared look from blue blue eyes is burned into his very soul. He can’t leave him now.
The civilian’s eyes snap open and they’re a brilliant glowing green and he’s thrashing again and his hands grasp tight enough to Tim’s arms to leave bruises through his suit. Something breaks inside of Tim when the kid who looks like him starts keening while the lumps on his body grow in size and in number.
Tim finds himself at a loss and fumbling over himself with what to do. He just keeps repeating “hey, hey, I’ve got you. Shh, I’m here. I’ve got you,” like he’s a broken record. Dimly, he knows there’s more he should be able to do, to assess. People he should call, but his mind can’t separate him from this moment long enough to do it.
One of the lumps on his neck finally splits open, clear fluid leaking from the split and something white poking through. It grows and grows until Tim can see that it’s a…
…a tooth?
Slowly a green fluid oozes around the edges of the tooth and solidifies to close the wound. It leaves a fascinating glowing green outline around the base of the tooth. It’s not until more green catches his eyes that he notices that more teeth are erupting from this guy’s body in random places. more of them cluster together around vulnerable points. There’s several rows of teeth, all human teeth in a line up where his jugular vein runs.
And they are all human teeth, mostly molars and premolars but there’s incisors and canines too.
When one splits the bed of the civilian’s fingernail, Tim can’t watch anymore. He has to focus on not throwing up but he still refuses to even attempt to leave. He’s going to stick it out until the end.
~•~
The end…
The end takes forever (not really but it feels like it). Every second drags on into infinity and every sound lasts a thousand years.
The guy in Tim’s arms is whimpering while Tim is caught between wanting to check up on him and not wanting to see just how bad it is. It’s not until cold hands turn loose of his arm that he brings his gaze back to him. He focuses directly on his face which is a mistake. It is surprisingly clear of excess teeth if you avoid looking at his eyes. But gods you can’t avoid looking at his eyes.
What used to be his eyes…
Tim’s voice stutters in his mantra but he still manages the courage to continue and even to card his fingers through dark dark hair so much like his own.
“I’m sorry.” It breaks his pattern but he can’t help it slipping out and falls silent after saying it.
After a few shuddering breaths, the guy says something that gets caught in his throat, making him cough. He tries again.
“Not your fault,” he rasps out. “I’m okay. I’m okay.”
Tears start to slip from Tim’s eyes at that. Not at the “not your fault” but the denial of the situation. Tim doesn’t know how he could ever be okay again. The guy is…he can’t even find words to describe it. His mind rebels over even looking at the man for too long.
He can’t look but he can’t leave and he wishes he could make it okay, that he could fix this and he cries because he knows deep down that he can’t.
Author’s Note: Danny is fine, don’t worry. His ectoplasm just had a funky reaction and decided that Teeth was the way to go and then got buggy. But Tim doesn’t know that. Tim was fully prepared for Danny to die in his arms and was going through it
I’ll probably do a part 2 for this as well at some point. Right now my thumbs need to not write more than I have to so it’ll def be after dpxdc week
#body horror#dpxdc week 2023#I totally understand if you can’t read this through bc squick#dpxdc#dcxdp
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Alright, I’ll play. There’s a lot of questions because I just copy and paste the original post and remove anything I don’t wanna know or feels too personal or whatever.
🤡 What's a line, scene, or exchange you've written that made you laugh?
😈 Has there been a point in a story where you did something just to be playfully mean to your readers?
🎢 Which of your fics would you call your wildest ride?
✨ Give you and your writing a compliment. (Do it)
🎶 Do you listen to music while you write? What song have you been playing on loop lately?
🙋♀️ Do any irl people know you write fanfic?
🌞 Do you have a preferred time of day to write?
💖 What made you start writing?
❌ What's a trope you will never write?
🏆 What's your most popular fic?
🎯 Have any of your readers accurately guessed major plot points? Care to share which?
🦅 Do you outline fics or fly by the seat of your pants?
🤗 What advice would you give to new fanfic writers that are just getting started?
🧠 Pick a [toh] character, and I'll tell you my favorite headcanon for them. (It’s gonna be angst-y most likely btw)
😬 Which of your fics would you be most horrified for friends, family, or coworkers to stumble upon?
🎉 What leads you to consider a fic a success?
🤯 What's a genre you struggle with as a writer (ex. romance, action, etc.)?
💔 Is there a fic of yours that broke your heart?
Okay I’m doing this no procrastinating.
🤡 What's a line, scene, or exchange you've written that made you laugh? Cannot think of any i might be funny here but it doesn’t come naturally in writing
😈 Has there been a point in a story where you did something just to be playfully mean to your readers? hmm does inserting a twice song into my first Wenclair fic count?
🎢 Which of your fics would you call your wildest ride? if I ever actually go somewhere with twaf (I’m working on it I swear) we are going places and not coming back folks
✨ Give you and your writing a compliment. (Do it) i have good analogies?? I think??
🎶 Do you listen to music while you write? What song have you been playing on loop lately? yup! I’m a swiftie bitch and right now I’m listening to cruel summer a lot for a ronance fic that maybe I’ll release someday should the fanfic gods allow. that and silk chiffon by muna has been stuck in my head since I watched do revenge
🙋♀️ Do any irl people know you write fanfic? *grits teeth* they can’t prove it
🌞 Do you have a preferred time of day to write? preferably afternoon 👍
💖 What made you start writing? i do wanna be writer but I didn’t really think I’d write fanfic. But then I tried and despite all the woes I have about it it’s super fun
❌ What's a trope you will never write? I can’t think of any?
🏆 What's your most popular fic? good question. I should probably know this. okay I just checked it’s New Years eve. (A Wenclair fic) which I am slightly salty about bc like all of my popular things I wrote it at midnight slightly unhinged. Still, I like it and I even got some fanart of it (!!!) out of it which was super cool.
🎯 Have any of your readers accurately guessed major plot points? Care to share which? *sighs* I’m not cool enough to have readers theorizing abt my work lol. Maybe further into twaf that’s my dream
🦅 Do you outline fics or fly by the seat of your pants? both! I spout out the randomest shit as I go but if I have a timeline idea I’ll write it down in a separate doc with future scenes I want to use
🤗 What advice would you give to new fanfic writers that are just getting started? write multi chapter fics in advance or you’ll regret it
🧠 Pick a [toh] character, and I'll tell you my favorite headcanon for them. (It’s gonna be angst-y most likely btw) give me a vee headcanon!
😬 Which of your fics would you be most horrified for friends, family, or coworkers to stumble upon? oh god. I might actually die if any of them read any of my fics but especially the new years fic idk it’s a little dramatic
🎉 What leads you to consider a fic a success? well I wouldn’t consider any of my fics successes so… maybe praise. or just a comment. I’m not a popular fanfic author but one day. One day.
🤯 What's a genre you struggle with as a writer (ex. romance, action, etc.)? id love to say angst but I’m not sure that’s true. maybe action I can’t write fight scenes ;-;
💔 Is there a fic of yours that broke your heart? nope.
thanks for the ask dagger sorry this took me so long!
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🚀 🎁 🔮 for the writers ask? <3
hell yeah! <3
🚀 Do you like to outline your fic first or create as you go?
answered here!
🔮 Any advice for writers working through burnout or writer’s block?
as someone who is having a bit of real life stress burnout leaking into my writing life as we speak, I know I have GREAT advice when I'm not actively in the middle of it fjakdlfj
but!! I do know somewhere at the back of my brain that as much as I'm a big proponent of 'write every day even if it's only a sentence' I do also realize that if your brain and body are asking you to rest, you probably need to just rest, as frustrating as that is. it's happened to me on many occasion when I'd think I was done writing ForeverTM and then I'd finally catch up on sleep and eat a nice meal and stop worrying about it for longer than a day and suddenly solve whatever word hurdle I'd been trying to jump.
horrible and shocking news!! taking care of yourself also takes care of your creativity!! UGH!!
🎁 Have a piece of a WIP you want to share?
I sure do!! here's a bit of something that won't be ready for A Minute but which I'm very enamored with already:
“That puts us officially at an average of three fewer catches this month than last.”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t like it.”
“Yeah, Nance,” Steve runs a hand down his face, obscuring the view of strung-up woodland creatures draining into the dirt below, but only for a moment, “it means less food, none of us fucking like it.”
It goes quiet, or as quiet as this part of the forest ever does with chittering creatures waiting just beyond barbed-wire fences and carefully set traps, and Steve knows what face she’s leveling at him before he even drops his hand and opens his eyes.
“Sorry.”
“You don’t have to bitch at me,” she says, flat but not actually with any hurt to it.
There can’t be that much hurt for bursts of frustration, not when they have so little time to offer the working through of petty issues.
“Yeah, I know,” Steve sighs, looks back at their haul from their daily check of the aforementioned traps. It really is significant, how much less is coming in.
“We’re all frustrated,” she huffs, swinging her rifle to hang over her shoulder by the strap, “we’re all hungry.”
Steve works his jaw, rolls his eyes a little bit as he moves over to the nearby spigot to rinse off his hands.
“Maybe we’d be less hungry if we didn’t have to share with goddamn—”
“It’s not the tourists—”
“—tourists using up resources on our land,” he finishes despite her protest, over the sputter of unfiltered water that’s fine for something like this but definitely not for drinking. None of the water is fine for drinking, not unless it’s had the Hell boiled out of it. “Passing through they said, what, three weeks ago?”
“We’ve been downtrending for six months, Steve,” Nancy huffs, arms crossing, “this isn’t the fault of three people trying to travel under the radar.”
Steve grumbles at that, even though there’s a part of him that knows she’s probably right, because if he doesn’t blame the random passers-by in a goddamn Winnebago, then whose fault is it?
He knows who’s in the wrong for how few meal tickets they get a week, for how much shit shoveling work they have to do just to get one, and that’s the Feds and the Feds alone, but this is wildlife. This is shit that they can’t regulate no matter how hard they try, and it means all they’ve done to supplement how little the system cares about them and the horde of teenagers they’re trying to keep from getting stunted in their growth, is just fizzling out without anyone for Steve to fight about it.
Blame his military school background, whatever, but Steve really doesn’t like an enemy he can’t clock in the damn face when they’ve earned it.
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fic stats meme
twas tagged by @jeeyuns
rules: give us the links to your fic with the most hits, second most kudos, third most comments, fourth most bookmarks, fifth most words, and fic with the least words.
SIDE NOTE: i have not published 911 fic!!!! trust me i am also mad at me for this!!!!! i am working on it!!! so instead everyone gets a look into the history on my ao3 profile that hasn't had anything updated since 2021 and my most written for fandom. (i am not going to publish anything in 911 fandom until it's fully written to avoid the unfinished fate of a lot of these works dw) but I WANT TO PARTICIPATE!!!! so here goes!!
most hits: i've tried goodbye a hundred times (not one of them true)
Check, Please! (Webcomic), Derek "Nursey" Nurse/William "Dex" Poindexter
The first time it happens, it’s daisies. Seven year old William watches in fascination as the flowers appear, line by line, around his wrist and up his arm. They’re just black outlines, with little yellow dots in the middle, but they fascinate him, and he watches as they grow all the way up to his elbow. And then Mitch slams his desk.
yeah i'll be real with you besties. this will probably never be updated again. which is so sad because apparently it's my work with the most hits. but i'm a polyfrogs bitch now!!!! people change!!!!! i don't even remember where the plot was going. this is not the target audience of this apology but you're the ones who get it.
second most kudos: Amy Parson Takes No Shit
Check, Please! (Webcomic), Kent "Parse" Parson/Original Character(s)
She hates this. She hates knowing that for all the talk of acceptance and anyone being able to play, it doesn’t matter. If she told the team, she can’t imagine what they’d think. And God, management would be a nightmare. She shouldn’t have to pick between hockey and being herself but she does and she’s made her choice. Someday, she’s gonna find a way to have her cake and eat it, too.
oh my god so. okay. the tag "im tired of cis bullshit" on this work is so funny. 1) the "cis bullshit" in question was genderbends which is the most 2017 discourse imaginable. 2) when i wrote that tag I identified as cis. LMAOOOOO. i thought i was being such a good ally writing this fic. and then somewhere along the way i was like "goddamm why do i relate so much to Amy's choosing to ruthlessly be herself and why am i jealous of it." and here we are. so this work holds a special place in my heart and i will finish it if it kills me and also probably rewrite the early chapters because they are SIX YEARS OLD oh my god i was FIFTEEN. they could be better, and they will be.
third most comments: all the gun fights, and the lime lights, and the holy sick divine nights
Check, Please! (Webcomic), Derek "Nursey" Nurse/Kent "Parse" Parson
Nursey rolls over in bed the morning after Epikegster, and finds himself face to face with Kent Parson. Kent is drooling, and still asleep, so Nursery takes a moment to assess the situation. Kent has all the covers and is kind of hogging whatever bed they’re in, which appears to be in a hotel room. Nursey is naked, and a quick inventory of the floor leads him to believe that most if not all of his clothing is there. He glances down at himself, and notices a not insignificant number of mouth sized bruises littering his torso. His therapist has been teaching him about not jumping to conclusions, but he’s starting to think he hooked up with Kent Parson.
you won't get it unless you Get It but this is the funniest possible rairpair. i'd love to finish this someday and fix the haphazard characterization. the plot was good as shit i just have to hope i get inspiration back after *checks notes* five years! we'll see!
fourth most bookmarks: i've got you (and you've got me)
Check, Please! (Webcomic), Eric "Bitty" Bittle/Jack Zimmermann
He’s done it. He’s graduated, and he’s got his degree, and he’s got an internship lined up, and he can’t wait to get on with the rest of his life. And he’s got Jack. Oh, lordy, how could he forget Jack? Jack who is currently waving at him from across the quad, waiting by the lake. Bitty has been saying his goodbyes to his parents, and now, he turns and heads over to him. “Hey, you.”
yeah i don't have a lot to say about this one! it was okay! least words: would you love me less (if you knew the beds that i've been in)
Check, Please! (Webcomic), Eric "Bitty" Bittle/Kent "Parse" Parson/Jack Zimmermann
Eric Bittle, struggling baker, runner of a not so struggling premium snapchat, frequenter of the Seattle Fitness Center. Jack Zimmermann, history teacher, boyfriend of Kent Parson, frequenter of the Seattle Fitness Center. Kent Parson, part-time wedding planner, allosexual who's demisexual boyfriend has approved his porn habits but has no interest in partaking, frequenter of some blond twink's premium snapchat.
ZERO words baby!!!! that's what happens on the archive's backend when a fic is told ENTIRELY THROUGH FAKED SCREENSHOTS (and some gym membership cards)!!!!!! i wanna redo some of the things in here and also. you know. finish the entire fic. trust me it's GLORIOUS. if you click on nothing else in this post because you aren't into check please click on this and be proud of some of the edits. (not the reddit one i like. quarter assed that one rather than find a template) this is the fanwork of mine im most proud of i love it so much PLEASE ask me about it even if you haven't read check please i'll happily gush about the plot.
that is all sorry that this is literally NO wee woo content. tagging @evcndiaz @lucydonato @shitouttabuck @housewifebuck and anyone else who wants to do this!
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PART TWO IS NOW LIVE
(ao3 link) (if u want) (or it's on tumblr right below)
~~~
Much, Much Earlier
Nursey gets back to his room after his one o’clock seminar, ready for a nap before he starts his homework—competing as a Division 1 athlete has impressed unto him a real appreciation for the toddler lifestyle, including frequent meals, midday naps, and an early bedtime—and finds his desk covered in stuff. There are two packages that must have come in the mail while he was out (probably one from his moms and the other from his grandparents); a few cards that he guesses some of his… appreciators dropped off; and a small bunch of roses next to a covered plate of cookies.
Nursey approaches the desk a little cautiously, as though it might contain an explosive mechanism. He checks the packages first. The smaller one is from his moms, the larger from Mama’s parents; he’ll open them both a little later. Then he glances over the cards. They are, as he expected, mostly generic, likely purchased from CVS or Stop & Shop, which makes him feel better about the fact that he’s going to throw them right in the garbage. Or, the recycling bin. C has been on his case about that.
Anyway, then there’s the roses.
There’s not, like, a ton of them; it’s not a bouquet. A bouquet would have been a joke, probably organized by Hops, to buy Nursey something that’s both embarrassing and kind of nice. Nursey hears the phantom voice of Shitty, long-graduated, whispering the words, ‘Intricate rituals.’
But it’s not a bouquet.
There are only four roses, with little white flowers mixed between them and some kind of green plants outlining it all. The effect is too tasteful to be ridiculous, and Nursey blinks at it. Then he rips the cling film off the plate and shoves a cookie in his mouth.
Fuck, it’s good. Nursey keeps telling Dex that his white chocolate chip macadamia cookies, modified (improved) from a Whiskey family recipe, could change the world. They’ve definitely changed Nursey’s, God. He groans, finishes chewing, and picks up another one, folding it in half before shoving the whole thing in his mouth.
There’s an unaddressed white envelope, attached to the flowers with a green ribbon. Nursey attempts to peel it open—cringing when it rips despite his best efforts—and slides out the heavy cream card inside. On it, in Dex’s handwriting, small and tucked ashamedly in the corner, are the words, ‘Happy birthday bro.’
Nursey bursts out laughing.
Then he stops, reads the message again, and picks up the roses. Hesitantly raises them to his face; sniffs them to see if they give off a scent, which they do, green and a little sweet. Turns them around in his hand, observing from every angle. Looks at the note again, and goes downstairs to find a vase.
They don’t live in the same room anymore, but on Mondays and Wednesdays, after his Operating Systems lecture, Dex always stops by Nursey’s room to bitch—he hates his professor—and get some work done. Around six, Chowder comes by too, to share new details about the ongoing soap opera that is the Asian Student Association exec board, and then they all go get dinner together. There’s an aching intimacy to it all, Nursey thinks, that comes from repetition. At what point does freeing up desk room before your friend arrives, or scheduling job interviews around your dedicated study time, start meaning more than the action itself? Is it the lack of expectation of reciprocation? Affection freely given; freely rejected?
Not that Dex has rejected him. He just also hasn’t… done anything, and Nursey has been really obvious about liking him. Until these flowers. Which are pretty fucking declarative, except why would Dex call him ‘bro’ in the accompanying note? Dex doesn’t even really call him ‘bro’ in real life. Dex is so fucking weird, is the thing. His motives are mysterious and often inscrutable, and if he could hold a poker face to save his life, Nursey would never know what was going on with him. Luckily, though, he can’t, and the direct approach rarely fails to get answers out of him. In the meanwhile, Nursey’s learned not to try and guess what’s going on in that pretty ginger head of his. So Nursey’s just not going to worry about the flower thing. He’ll take a nap, and do some reading (he always has some reading to do), and not think about the roses at all.
By the time Dex gets back to their dorm, as he usually does, at three, Nursey has, transcending all earthly forms of nervousness and uncertainty, achieved a state of chill so absolute that he barely has to work to keep his voice steady when he says, “Hey, man.”
Dex shrugs off his backpack. “Hey.” He glances at the desk, face either carefully expressionless or genuinely only half-interested; the fact that Nursey can’t tell is killing him. “Get anything good?”
“Chyeah, this fancy fountain pen from my moms. And my grandparents got me a new phone.”
Dex doesn’t even take the opportunity to comment on Nursey’s rich-kid birthday presents. He just pulls his laptop out of his backpack and settles on Nursey’s bed. “Cool.”
“I also got some roses,” Nursey says pointedly. “From a friend.”
“Oh,” Dex says mildly, which means he’s definitely calling Nursey’s bluff, the asshole, “there wasn’t a card?”
“There was a card. But it, like, said they were from you? Which was weird?”
The last sentence comes out a question. Nursey takes a few quick, shallow breaths and hopes he’s not going to have to flee his own room bloodied, his foolish, hoping heart ripped to shreds inside his chest.
“Yeah,” Dex says. He opens his laptop and then seems to notice Nursey blatantly staring at him, because he adds, after a pause, “Yeah, it was me.”
“Okay,” Nursey hedges. “I got that from the card.”
“Cool. Happy birthday, bro.”
Nursey watches, disbelieving, as Dex—because sometimes Dex types nonsense on his keyboard so he can avoid awkward situations, or eavesdrop—but in this case Nursey can see his screen, and Dex is literally writing code right now.
“Thanks,” Nursey says, loudly, several beats too late. Dex doesn’t look up, and Nursey realizes with a kind of incredulous horror that he’s actually going to try and get out of addressing this.
He clears his throat. When that fails to get a reaction, he says, “Dex, you bought me flowers.” Dex stops typing and starts looking at Nursey. “And made cookies, which were really good, by the way, thanks for those. I ate like ten of them already. But like.”
“But like what?” Dex’s tone is beginning to be belligerent, which, good.
“You got me roses,” Nursey says. “For Valentine’s Day.”
Dex scowls. “I got you a present. For your birthday.”
“Cookies are a present. A book is a present. Sharks merch is a present!” Once upon a time, Nursey used to be chill.
“If you don’t like them, you can just say that.” Dex rolls his eyes, presumably for something to do with his face. “No need to get all, like, macho and invalidating of male friendship about it.”
Nursey takes a breath to keep arguing, then abruptly changes his mind. In the silence, Dex looks at the desk again, a quick darting glance that manages to set off his blush, starting at his ears and spreading steadily downward. After a moment, he says, quickly, “Anyway, you put them in a vase. So you don’t get to complain, and,” his voice starts rising again, “I literally don’t know why we’re even talking about this when—”
“Dex,” Nursey interrupts. Dex, magically, shuts up. “Are you trying to gaslight me into dating you?”
“What?” Oh, his whole face is red now. “What are you talking about?”
“This—” Nursey points at the desk “—is not normal friend shit. I know that. And I know you know that too.”
Dex doesn’t say anything, but his jaw clenches, and his eyes drop to the floor at Nursey’s feet. “Yeah,” he says after a moment. He slams his laptop shut, the sound ricocheting in the small space. When it dies, he adds, rough, “Yeah, that’s—that’s my bad.”
He stands, and, because he’s looking down, takes a moment to notice Nursey staring at him. “Sorry,” he says, voice tight, and Nursey is going to lose his goddamn mind. He stands too.
“Just ask me out!” he says. Jesus, and he throws his hands out too. Poindexter is such a bad influence on Nursey’s theatricality. “Just ask me out! Like a normal fucking person!”
“Fine!” Dex yells. “Do you wanna go on a date with me!”
“Yes!”
“Fine!”
“Fine!”
They stare at each other a moment, breathing hard.
“Fine!” Dex says again, but much softer now, and it’s so ridiculous, the whole thing, that Nursey is seized by uncontrollable giggling that he doesn’t even bother to try and fight. He ends up on the floor; Dex stands over him the whole time, frowning loudly, which doesn’t help.
“So… yes?” he asks, when Nursey is done.
Nursey nods, hard, a few times. “Yes.”
“Okay.” Dex offers Nursey a hand up. “I made reservations at that sushi place you’ve been talking everyone’s ears off about.”
“Masa?” Nursey asks. It’s a new restaurant in Boston, run by a chef from New York, and has a wait list of several months.
“Yeah,” Dex says, avoiding eye contact. “My brother knows someone who works there, and there was a cancellation, so—anyway, it’s at seven.”
Nursey feels his mouth stretch into a grin. “Holy shit, Poindexter.”
“Yeah, whatever.” Dex is pink and refusing to look at him. “I have to go, like, meet with someone. Just wear something nice.”
He hesitates, then steps closer to Nursey, kisses him on the cheek (!!!), and flees out the door, unzipped backpack in hand.
Nursey is in love with a crazy person.
He grins to himself and goes to pick out an outfit.
Nursey gets back to his room after his one o’clock seminar, ready for a nap before he starts his homework—competing as a Division 1 athlete has impressed unto him a real appreciation for the toddler lifestyle, including frequent meals, midday naps, and an early bedtime—and finds his desk covered in stuff. There are two packages that must have come in the mail while he was out (probably one from his moms and the other from his grandparents); a few cards that he guesses some of his… appreciators dropped off; and a small bunch of roses next to a covered plate of cookies.
Nursey approaches the desk a little cautiously, as though it might contain an explosive mechanism. He checks the packages first. The smaller one is from his moms, the larger from Mama’s parents; he’ll open them both a little later. Then he glances over the cards. They are, as he expected, mostly generic, likely purchased from CVS or Stop & Shop, which makes him feel better about the fact that he’s going to throw them right in the garbage. Or, the recycling bin. C has been on his case about that.
Anyway, then there’s the roses.
There’s not, like, a ton of them; it’s not a bouquet. A bouquet would have been a joke, probably organized by Hops, to buy Nursey something that’s both embarrassing and kind of nice. Nursey hears the phantom voice of Shitty, long-graduated, whispering the words, ‘Intricate rituals.’
But it’s not a bouquet.
There are only four roses, with little white flowers mixed between them and some kind of green plants outlining it all. The effect is too tasteful to be ridiculous, and Nursey blinks at it. Then he rips the cling film off the plate and shoves a cookie in his mouth.
Fuck, it’s good. Nursey keeps telling Dex that his white chocolate chip macadamia cookies, modified (improved) from a Whiskey family recipe, could change the world. They’ve definitely changed Nursey’s, God. He groans, finishes chewing, and picks up another one, folding it in half before shoving the whole thing in his mouth.
There’s an unaddressed white envelope, attached to the flowers with a green ribbon. Nursey attempts to peel it open—cringing when it rips despite his best efforts—and slides out the heavy cream card inside. On it, in Dex’s handwriting, small and tucked ashamedly in the corner, are the words, ‘Happy birthday bro.’
Nursey bursts out laughing.
Then he stops, reads the message again, and picks up the roses. Hesitantly raises them to his face; sniffs them to see if they give off a scent, which they do, green and a little sweet. Turns them around in his hand, observing from every angle. Looks at the note again, and goes downstairs to find a vase.
They don’t live in the same room anymore, but on Mondays and Wednesdays, after his Operating Systems lecture, Dex always stops by Nursey’s room to bitch—he hates his professor—and get some work done. Around six, Chowder comes by too, to share new details about the ongoing soap opera that is the Asian Student Association exec board, and then they all go get dinner together. There’s an aching intimacy to it all, Nursey thinks, that comes from repetition. At what point does freeing up desk room before your friend arrives, or scheduling job interviews around your dedicated study time, start meaning more than the action itself? Is it the lack of expectation of reciprocation? Affection freely given; freely rejected?
Not that Dex has rejected him. He just also hasn’t… done anything, and Nursey has been really obvious about liking him. Until these flowers. Which are pretty fucking declarative, except why would Dex call him ‘bro’ in the accompanying note? Dex doesn’t even really call him ‘bro’ in real life. Dex is so fucking weird, is the thing. His motives are mysterious and often inscrutable, and if he could hold a poker face to save his life, Nursey would never know what was going on with him. Luckily, though, he can’t, and the direct approach rarely fails to get answers out of him. In the meanwhile, Nursey’s learned not to try and guess what’s going on in that pretty ginger head of his. So Nursey’s just not going to worry about the flower thing. He’ll take a nap, and do some reading (he always has some reading to do), and not think about the roses at all.
By the time Dex gets back to their dorm, as he usually does, at three, Nursey has, transcending all earthly forms of nervousness and uncertainty, achieved a state of chill so absolute that he barely has to work to keep his voice steady when he says, “Hey, man.”
Dex shrugs off his backpack. “Hey.” He glances at the desk, face either carefully expressionless or genuinely only half-interested; the fact that Nursey can’t tell is killing him. “Get anything good?”
“Chyeah, this fancy fountain pen from my moms. And my grandparents got me a new phone.”
Dex doesn’t even take the opportunity to comment on Nursey’s rich-kid birthday presents. He just pulls his laptop out of his backpack and settles on Nursey’s bed. “Cool.”
“I also got some roses,” Nursey says pointedly. “From a friend.”
“Oh,” Dex says mildly, which means he’s definitely calling Nursey’s bluff, the asshole, “there wasn’t a card?”
“There was a card. But it, like, said they were from you? Which was weird?”
The last sentence comes out a question. Nursey takes a few quick, shallow breaths and hopes he’s not going to have to flee his own room bloodied, his foolish, hoping heart ripped to shreds inside his chest.
“Yeah,” Dex says. He opens his laptop and then seems to notice Nursey blatantly staring at him, because he adds, after a pause, “Yeah, it was me.”
“Okay,” Nursey hedges. “I got that from the card.”
“Cool. Happy birthday, bro.”
Nursey watches, disbelieving, as Dex—because sometimes Dex types nonsense on his keyboard so he can avoid awkward situations, or eavesdrop—but in this case Nursey can see his screen, and Dex is literally writing code right now.
“Thanks,” Nursey says, loudly, several beats too late. Dex doesn’t look up, and Nursey realizes with a kind of incredulous horror that he’s actually going to try and get out of addressing this.
He clears his throat. When that fails to get a reaction, he says, “Dex, you bought me flowers.” Dex stops typing and starts looking at Nursey. “And made cookies, which were really good, by the way, thanks for those. I ate like ten of them already. But like.”
“But like what?” Dex’s tone is beginning to be belligerent, which, good.
“You got me roses,” Nursey says. “For Valentine’s Day.”
Dex scowls. “I got you a present. For your birthday.”
“Cookies are a present. A book is a present. Sharks merch is a present!” Once upon a time, Nursey used to be chill.
“If you don’t like them, you can just say that.” Dex rolls his eyes, presumably for something to do with his face. “No need to get all, like, macho and invalidating of male friendship about it.”
Nursey takes a breath to keep arguing, then abruptly changes his mind. In the silence, Dex looks at the desk again, a quick darting glance that manages to set off his blush, starting at his ears and spreading steadily downward. After a moment, he says, quickly, “Anyway, you put them in a vase. So you don’t get to complain, and,” his voice starts rising again, “I literally don’t know why we’re even talking about this when—”
“Dex,” Nursey interrupts. Dex, magically, shuts up. “Are you trying to gaslight me into dating you?”
“What?” Oh, his whole face is red now. “What are you talking about?”
“This—” Nursey points at the desk “—is not normal friend shit. I know that. And I know you know that too.”
Dex doesn’t say anything, but his jaw clenches, and his eyes drop to the floor at Nursey’s feet. “Yeah,” he says after a moment. He slams his laptop shut, the sound ricocheting in the small space. When it dies, he adds, rough, “Yeah, that’s—that’s my bad.”
He stands, and, because he’s looking down, takes a moment to notice Nursey staring at him. “Sorry,” he says, voice tight, and Nursey is going to lose his goddamn mind. He stands too.
“Just ask me out!” he says. Jesus, and he throws his hands out too. Poindexter is such a bad influence on Nursey’s theatricality. “Just ask me out! Like a normal fucking person!”
“Fine!” Dex yells. “Do you wanna go on a date with me!”
“Yes!”
“Fine!”
“Fine!”
They stare at each other a moment, breathing hard.
“Fine!” Dex says again, but much softer now, and it’s so ridiculous, the whole thing, that Nursey is seized by uncontrollable giggling that he doesn’t even bother to try and fight. He ends up on the floor; Dex stands over him the whole time, frowning loudly, which doesn’t help.
“So… yes?” he asks, when Nursey is done.
Nursey nods, hard, a few times. “Yes.”
“Okay.” Dex offers Nursey a hand up. “Well, we have reservations at that sushi place you’ve been talking everyone’s ears off about.”
“Masa?” Nursey asks. It’s a new restaurant in Boston, run by a chef from New York, and has a wait list of several months.
“Yeah,” Dex says, avoiding eye contact. “My brother knows someone who works there, and there was a cancellation, so—anyway, it’s at seven.”
Nursey feels his mouth stretch into a grin. “Holy shit, Poindexter.”
“Yeah, whatever.” Dex is pink and refusing to look at him. “I have to go, like, meet with someone. Just wear something nice.”
He hesitates, then steps closer to Nursey, kisses him on the cheek (!!!), and flees out the door, unzipped backpack in hand.
Nursey is in love with a crazy person.
He grins to himself and goes to pick out an outfit.
~~~
& that's a wrap! this somehow turned out to be over 4k words long, which makes it the longest nurseydex thing i've written so far. here's the ao3 link again if you wanna be so so nice to me and leave a comment/kudos, or read my other nurseydex stuff. there's more of it and it's mostly just as stupid as this. thanks for reading!
They've been studying in Founders for a few hours when Nursey says, apropos of nothing, “Get me a blueberry muffin too?”
Dex and Chowder both glance up at him; Dex, who’s been tapping his right hand against the table faster and faster for the past few minutes, stills for a moment, then nods and stands.
“Yeah, sure,” he says, shutting his computer. “Chris, you want anything from Annie’s?”
“Um,” Chowder says, “when did you say you were going?”
“Oh, he didn’t,” Nursey supplies. “But he was getting all fidgety.”
Dex shrugs in confirmation.
“Okay,” says Chowder, who, until now, would have been pretty sure that Dex works in total stillness from the start to the end of a project. “I’ll take an iced latte. Wait, Cait’s last class is over soon, can I ask if she wants something too?”
“Sure,” Dex says.
Chowder sends the text. While they wait for a response, Nursey goes back to work (on an… essay? of some sort? Chowder’s not really sure), and Dex remains standing, scrolling on his phone. Cait replies a few minutes later.
“She wants an oat milk matcha latte and a croissant,” Chowder reports.
Dex nods once, frowning. “One blueberry muffin, one iced latte, one oat milk matcha latte, and a croissant.” When no one corrects him, he nods again. “Be back soon.”
And then Chowder’s brain breaks, because Nursey, who’s clearly absorbed back in his task, raises his head a little, not even really looking away from his computer screen, and Dex steps forward and kisses him on the mouth.
Chowder hears himself make a noise like a dying fish. They both look over at him, because the kiss was really short, and it’s over now. It wasn’t a real kiss, just a little ‘goodbye see you soon’ kiss, which Chowder can recognize because he kisses Cait that way all the time, and Bitty kisses Jack like that, and Chowder’s aunt and uncle who actually still like each other kiss each other like that. Why the fuck are Dex and Nursey kissing like that??
“Oh,” Dex says after a moment. “Uh.”
Nursey has gone back to his work, but, sensing the atmosphere, looks up. “What? Oh.”
“Is there something you guys want to tell me?” Chowder can tell his voice has gone up roughly two octaves, but he doesn’t know what to do about it.
They look about equally sheepish.
“We’re, uh, practicing?” Nursey suggests finally, at the same time that Dex says, “Nursey has a thing for blueberry muffins.”
Chowder stares at them. “Sit down,” he says to Dex, who sits. He takes a breath. “Okay. I don’t know what’s going on, but you guys have been acting weird all day. I saw you holding hands on the way to practice. And—and looking at each other. All day! A lot!”
Dex raises an eyebrow, but Chowder plows on. “It’s like you’re together all of a sudden, but you can’t be together, because Nursey would be way smugger right now if you just got together. And you don’t seem like you just started dating. It’s more like you’ve been together for ages. But you’re both terrible at secrets.” He feels like he’s unraveling a puzzle. “And if you were keeping it a secret, why would you make it so obvious now? It doesn’t make sense! None of it—wait.” He has an idea and bites his bottom lip, considering. “Nursey, can you open Instagram?”
“What?”
“Open Instagram,” Chowder repeats, feeling more sure by the second. “On your phone.”
“Uh,” Nursey says. He fumbles at his phone, the way he’s been fumbling it all day. Chowder watches him tap the phone screen as if expecting that to turn it on before catching himself and pressing the power button. Then it takes him almost fifteen seconds to navigate to the app: he tries to swipe up instead of sideways three separate times, and clearly doesn’t recognize the icon when he first sees it. Finally, he gets it open and says, weakly, “See? Easy.”
Dex thunks his forehead gently against the table.
“Okay,” Chowder says slowly. “Stop me if I sound crazy. But what if the reason you both clearly don’t know how to use your phones, and forgetting to go to your classes, and talking about how young we all are, is because,” he pauses, “you’ve been replaced with future versions of yourselves. When you’ve graduated and have cool new phones and have been dating for ages.”
He finishes, cringing a little at how silly it sounds out loud, but Dex and Nursey are staring at him, wide-eyed.
“Uh,” Nursey says finally. “Yeah, that… the second one.”
Chowder blinks, then feels himself grin. “So you two do get together! That’s ‘swawesome! I’m so happy for you guys! I knew you’d make a great couple! Do you live together? Where do you live? How long have you been together? How did you start dating?” He pauses. “Wait, how far in the future are you from? Why are you here? Are me and Cait still together in your world? Are we all still friends?”
Dex and Nursey exchange a look. Chowder can’t read the conversation that passes between them, but after a moment, Dex’s shoulders drop down, and he takes Nursey’s hand in his. That makes Chowder’s brain spaz out a little: if the rest of… everything hadn’t been enough to convince Chowder that these Dex and Nursey aren’t the ones he knows, this would: he literally can’t imagine Dex willingly reaching out for affection. Especially from Nursey. Wow, the future must really be different.
“Okay, so,” Nursey says, grinning. “First thing, Dex and I aren’t dating, we’re married.”
Dex rolls his eyes.
“And second, here’s how it all went down.”
~~~
thanks for reading! i'll post the second part in a few days. and as usual here's the ao3 link if you want to leave me a kudos/comment :)
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lessons in love
Pairing: professor! Marc Spector x female reader x Frank Castle
Word Count: 1731 words
Warnings: swearing, inspection kink, pet names, daddy kink, power play/dynamics, sub play, sex toys (butt plugs), anal fingering, anal sex, oral sex (male receiving), cumeating, humiliation kink, praise kink, degradation kink, marc is a little mean and possessive, frank is a cocky bastard.
Outline: Your professor has long promised you a special favor if you can keep your grades up.
Author’s Note: This is both cause of @wint3r-h3art and for her. If you hadn't check out her stories yet, you definitely should ;) Linda my love I hope you'll enjoy!
P.S: dividers by @firefly-graphics || banners by @maysdigitalarts
Main Masterlist ・❥・ Marc Spector Masterlist ・❥・Frank Castle Masterlist
NSFW UNDERNEATH THE CUT. MINORS DNI.
“Professor.”
You greet him bowing your head slightly and closing the door behind you, walking further inside the narrow office.
“Y/N.” He greets you back, heavy eyelids behind his thick glasses. “Did you do what I asked you to do?” He continues placing his hands firm on the table after gesturing for you to sit on the velvet chair.
“Yes, sir. Chose the next one in line.” You reassure him. “Should I take off my clothes?”
“Just lift up your skirt.” He instructs you and clears his throat. In response, you lift up your skirt and turn around bending down to show him the shiny butt plug adorning your asshole.
“Good. Very good.” His voice is getting deeper with each word.
Your archaeology professor Marc Spector had been training you for a couple of weeks now. Trying different sizes and different kinds of butt plugs, trying to stretch you. In anticipation of one of his friends. He had long promised you to indulge your fantasies of having two men inside you at the same time and thus wanted to make sure you were as prepared as possible.
“How does it feel?”
“Stang a little at first but quickly it felt really good.” You mused drawing your fingers over the object. “Felt really nice to sit on top of it all morning.”
“Good. Good. Take it off for me. I wanna inspect your hole.”
“Yes, sir.” Immediately, securing one leg on the chair, to better stretch yourself, you reach for the object, twisting it around slowly, pulling it outside of your skin. You can hear clearly your professor Marc curse under his breath as he watches your hole clench at the sudden loss.
“How does it look, sir?” You question him, your voice is saccharine sweet like always.
“Looks ready to be filled again.”
You enthusiastically cheer and ask for permission to turn around. He grants you so and then you sit on the chair watching him as he makes a phone call. Once he puts the phone down, he asks all kinds of various questions about today’s lesson and you reply correctly each time. Being top of your class was a requirement to be with him anyway.
Then there’s a knock on the door and curiously you look at him as he tells whoever is on the other side to come in.
“Marc.” A tall broad dark-haired man with a goatee dressed in all black in heavy boots and a leather jacket walks inside. He looked like a man in every definition of the word.
He couldn’t be, could it?
You glance between him and Marc wondering if you should greet him or wait for instructions but the man extends his hand to you and you notice how he is obviously chewing gum.
“Frank. Frank Castle.” He grins. “You must be Marc’s favorite student. He won’t shut up about you.” Marc rolls his eyes as he watches your movements close while Frank is firmly shaking your hand. His touch feels electrifying and you can’t help but feel yourself getting wet.
“She’s already fantasizing about you. Look at her. She’s the biggest whore I ever had.” You gulp at Marc’s words, feeling humiliated at them, and try to take your hand back. But Frank only caresses your cheek tenderly.
“Don’t worry sweetheart. Marc is just a little rude bitch. I will take real good care of you.”
“You are not fucking her alone,” Marc warns him, and there’s something so incredibly sexy about the way his voice has gotten so low, jealousy dripping off his tongue.
“Alright, man. If you wanted to see my dick so badly all you had to do was ask.” Frank chuckles and settles down on the chair next to you, legs spread and your eyes immediately go to his crotch area. He looked big, you couldn’t help but salivate yourself staring at him. He grabs his crotch and shakes it looking at you with a smirk. “All yours baby girl. Just this dude needs to do his wacky mind games first.”
“Get up. Undress.” Marc spits out but he is staring at Frank with annoyance. Surely he called him in here, why was he so angry? “Now.” He shouts looking at you and there’s a fear that creeps under your spine, making you get up instantly.
Quickly you take off your college shirt followed by your skirt, carefully placing the items folded on the desk just like Marc has instructed you to, leaving your shoes on. You then unclasp your bra and let it silently fall off your frame before placing it close to Frank which makes Marc growl at you. Frank is grinning and licking his lips together watching you put on a little show for him as you push your panties down and then bend down for him to look at your stretched hole.
“Holy shit, Marc.”
“She’s nothing if not a whore. Now go sit on the couch, on all fours.”
You follow your instructions perfectly and slowly they both walk closer to you. Frank is taking off his leather jacket and you are admiring his big muscles hiding under a small white t-shirt that looks to be too small on him. Marc is taking off his tie, leaving it at the desk, and raising his sleeves up his arms. Usually at times like this, after an inspection plug, he would use his fingers on your hole and then perhaps a dildo and sometimes even stroke you with the tip of his cock but so far he hasn’t entered you. Yet.
“Man look at how she’s dripping already.” Frank is laughing at you, as you realize that your pussy is very wet at the sheer presence of these two men.
Marc comes closer to you, petting your hair soft and looking at your eyes.
“If you feel uncomfortable at any point, or if you want to stop, or if you want us to do it another day, just use our safeword. Alright? You are the one who calls the shots here.” His voice is sweet against your ear, his reassurance and his devotion to your and your own pleasure have you nodding your head.
“I won’t hesitate, I promise.”
“You promise?”
“Yes, daddy. I do.”
“What’s the safeword?”
“Applesauce.”
“What’s the word for going slower?”
“Lemon.”
“Good girl.”
You settle on your arms looking at him with a smile as he softly kisses your lips and your forehead. And then you feel him dripping lube inside your hole.
At first, Marc is fingering you slowly, administrating to Frank how well you can take it, explaining the training process, and telling him about key points in your joint sex life. It feels so good the way he praises you and notes how fast you could do things and how docile and non-bratty you are.
“Go ahead, use her mouth a little.”
“Oh, fuck, thanks, man. Is getting very stingy here.”
Frank had been gripping his crotch again and again once Marc had started stroking you with his tip. You watch him as he zips down his jeans, and hear the big oof coming to his lips once his heavy big dick is finally free.
“Look at what’ve you done, sugar. You look so delicious like that.” You grin at him with doe eyes and open your mouth wide, a little bit of drool dripping off your chin. He strokes himself after the drool falls on his dick and strokes it once or twice before heading for your mouth.
Obediently you start bopping your head down his length, an inch at a time, knowing that Marc would never let you use your hands. Marc started pushing his tip inside your hole slowly, the burning sensation of it, making your breath cut short.
“Easy, easy, baby.” Frank pushes your head off his cock and you quickly protest. “Is gonna get too much for your baby. Your asshole must feel so tight for Marc right now.”
“Oh, it is, feels so good burying myself in there.”
“That’s it. Atta girl, feel him.” Marc pushes all of his cockhead inside and the moan that you let out has Frank’s cock twitching with pre-cum right in front of your face.
“Fucking hell.” Marc curses, lifting his shirt up a bit to look better as half of his dick is not buried between your ass cheeks.
And that’s how the rest of the time goes, sucking a little bit of Frank as Marc is stretching you. Slowly they pick up the pace and Marc starts thrusting inside you, each thrust getting a little faster than the other as Frank is caressing your back and your hair praising you.
“Baby, baby, sugar. You need to let Marc fuck you good alright? We’ll get time to play together soon baby. I ain’t got nothing else to do all day than admire you, pretty baby.”
“Yes, yes, sir. As you wish.” You breathe out bracing yourself on your wrists, Marc’s body force pinning you down.
“Let Marc has his taste, he knows he’s gonna be getting outfucked real soon. “
“If you keep acting cocky like that, it ain’t happening.” Marc curses and Frank is grinning as he is stroking his cock with his palm.
Marc brings a hand over your waist and down below, reaching for your pussy and starting rubbing it, to make you finish first. Doesn’t take you long for the coil inside to break, electrifying and vibrating through your whole body as you curse out his name.
“Give it to me baby, come on. Come for daddy.” Marc encourages you while Frank is stroking his cock faster looking at your body shaking.
“Fucking hell, baby, you sound so good.” You feel your orgasm washing over you when Frank’s cock explodes on his hand ripping out ropes of cum that fall on your face followed by the warm sensation inside your hole. Marc filling your asshole for the first time with his precious cum.
An hour later, Marc would be pulling you by your hair his palm firm on your mouth, as both he and Frank were pounding your little pussy from both sides hating how good Frank’s cock made you feel.
But for now, he was praising you and kissing your back telling you ‘you are the best girl in the world for me’ and he’d never let you go.
If you want to be notified about my future stories please follow my library blog @fluffyprettykittylibrary !
#selenewrites#marc spector#marc spector x reader#marc spector smut#marc spector one shot#marc spector x you#marc spector x y/n#marc spector x female reader#moon knight x reader#moon knight smut#moon knight x you#frank castle x reader#frank castle smut#frank castle oneshot#frank castle x female reader#frank castle x you#frank castle x y/n#the punisher smut
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One Wall Over: Geto Suguru x Fem!Reader
synopsis: you’re new in the neighborhood, but that doesn’t mean you’ll get a warm welcome from your duplex buddy.
wc: 3k
tw: nsfw, smut, annoying noises at five am, the works
a/n: ahhhhhhhhh! I am so excited to be taking part in this collab with @suna-reversed reversed for a super sexy jjk collab! Please check out the masterlist for the collab here and the other authors! SO EXCITED TO READ THE OTHERS! (The other title I had for this work is “First of All, How Dare You” because that’s literally me every time I see my hubby Suguru, but anywho!).
Moving in was a bitch.
For the first time ever, you have no roommates, no parents, and no pets - just you and your meager belongings moving into the little, two-story duplex a friend allowed you to sublet. As you stare out of the window facing the sparse front lawn, you wonder what your neighbor is like. They hadn’t come to welcome you to the home, but you knew they existed by the sound of the bass through your shared wall at five am every morning.
You assume they’re male or a couple, but you’ve never gotten a chance to see them with your own two eyes. So you kept a lookout day after day. At exactly four p.m., you would sit across from the window with a book and keep watch, the sun streaming in and illuminating your figure and crossed legs anchored on the window sill. But day after day, you wouldn’t see anything. The neighbor’s car wouldn’t even move an inch from the previous day. Everything would remain the same until the next day when you took your perch by the window.
It isn’t until you’re out on your front lawn, slaving over the flowers you maintained for a whole month - a new record - that the sleek Range Rover drives up to the garage on your neighbor’s side of the house. At first, you don’t notice it, your eyes firmly planted on the soil at the root of your orchid tree. But then you hear a car door slam, and you look up, watching for the person who would be exiting the vehicle.
A tall, black haired man slides out of the truck and slams the door shut, his locks tucked into a half bun and a white towel resting around his rippling shoulders. He slides his keys into his gym shorts and turns to walk into the house, barely noticing you on the front lawn in an ill-fitting t-shirt and dirty yoga pants.
He’s halfway to his front door when you find your voice and yell out, “Hey, neighbor!” You wave your hand at him in hopes that he would return the gesture, but you’re sorely disappointed when he only looks your way with disinterest and walks into the house without speaking. You frown at the encounter, hoping that he would return a little while later and explain his lack of manners, but he doesn’t, and you retreat into the house once more.
______________________________________________________________________
“Unzzz, unzz, unzzzz…” Both eyes fly open at the sound of the bass on the other side of your bedroom wall, the sudden noise jarring you from your sleep.
“Ugh…” Your eyes slide to the white numbers on the clock face, which politely remind you that it’s five-fifteen AM. Don’t confront him, don’t confront him. You wrap the pillow around your ears, hoping the gentle cushion would block out the sound. But for some reason, it gets even louder, and a groan escapes your lips. There were only two more hours for you to rest, but at this rate, you’d be up until it was time for you to wake and get ready for work. That just wouldn’t do.
The grey sweatpants deposited on the floor the night before are quickly jerked on, and you pad to the front door, not caring about your appearance as you walk the length of the porch over to his front door. Inhaling, you find the will to bring your fist up and pound on the door, hoping the sound would be angrier than you actually felt. Fear ate at your nerves while you waited. A few agonizing moments later, the door is yanked open, music floods outside, and your neighbor stands before you in just a pair of black sweatpants. Nothing else.
“What?” he gripes, sweat rolling down his forehead. As your eyes take in the full sight of him, you wonder what kind of sculpted god you had for a neighbor. You could even faintly see the v that would culminate in the bulge near the crotch area of the pants, which apparently is quite--
“Uh…” You had entirely forgotten what you had come over to his side of the house for, but as he leans on the doorframe and gives you a withering stare, you suddenly remember your complaint. “Your wall is next to my bedroom. Can you turn your music down?” You place a hand on your hip, trying to seem more inconvenienced than you actually were in that moment.
“Yeah, sure.” He shuts the door in your face, and you trudge back over to your side of the house, hoping the music would soften.
But for some reason, you swear he turns it up even louder.
_______________________________________________________________________
“Why don’t you just call the landlord and make a noise complaint?” your friend wonders over the phone, the sound of a frying pan in the background slightly overshadowing her voice.
“But you said you didn’t have any problems with him, Mariela.”
“Yeah, Geto was nice enough and didn’t bother me much. Not sure why he’s being such an ass now.” You hear an oh, shit on the other end, and Mariela hisses into the receiver, “Hey, y/n, I have to go; the risotto is burning. Call me back if you have any other issues, okay?”
“Okay.” You hang up and toss your phone on your desk, trying to focus on the words in front of you but failing as the sound of the bass filters through the other side of the wall again. For the fourth day in a row, you’ve been subjected to the sound of pure noise coming through the other side. Tonight was absolutely not the night, mostly because you had a presentation that took you all night to finish, and the clamor was interrupting your prep work for the bright and early eight o’clock meeting. You feel like Squidward, subjecting yourself to the endless noises from the grunting to the bass to the sound of weights clanking back into place.
It’s the sound of Geto’s groaning that sets you on edge the most. If it weren’t for the added noise of weights, you’d be convinced he was fucking someone. There was no way he could make so much noise and not know that he was disturbing your peace. Hadn’t he ever heard of headphones?
You snatch up your set of earbuds on your desk, place them in your ears, and try to turn up lofi music as loud as it will go. But that doesn’t work. Even relocating to the living room didn’t seem to fare you well, and you wonder if he truly had cranked up the music higher than before just to annoy the hell out of you. Finally, you toss your earbuds down and slam your computer on your coffee table.
You’d had enough.
Stomping over to the front door, you fling it open and bang on Geto’s door, hoping he would answer it in a rage so you could let out your frustrations. But when the door flies open, he’s dressed in only a pair of gym shorts, this time the outline of his dick even more apparent. But you’re not focused on that. You point a finger at him and inhale to begin your tirade; sick and utterly over his shit.
“Hey! Can you fucking turn it down?” Geto stretches out a hand, and for a minute you think he’s going to grab you by the shirt, but he pulls you inside by the wrist, crushing you against his chest. “What the hell?” You push away from his sweaty chest, backing into the closed door harshly.
“Lower your damn voice; the neighbors will hear,” he chastises, and turns away from you to grab the water bottle on the counter. The muscled man takes a long swig, then wipes his face with the towel right next to it.
“I don’t know what the fuck your problem is, but I’ve never been so disrespected in my li--” As you talk, he’s advancing on you, pushing back his long black hair back behind his ears and getting too close for comfort. Once he’s right up on you, you gulp hard, fully intimidated by his size and stature. The music suddenly stops, and you’re left in silence.
“I’m listening,” he mutters, staring down at you. “Please, continue.”
“I was saying…” your throat dries up. “What I meant was…” Your eyes travel from his chest to his navel, and then to the hand pressed against the doorframe.
“Uh huh…” He nods, squinting his black eyes at you. “You said you’ve ‘never been more disrespected in your’… life, right?” You don’t reply. Rather, you can’t reply. All of the words you could have ever said are now gone from your skull. “I highly doubt that, y/n.”
“H-how…”
“You’re Mariela’s friend. I’ve seen you quite a few times before you moved in here. Never thought I’d be living so close to you, though. Mariela’s subletting, isn’t she?”
All of these questions. And you can’t reply to a single one because he’s practically squeezing you between the door and his rock-hard abs. Or are you pressing yourself against the door to get away from the heat emitting from his body - oh, fuck; you don’t know.
“But I had to get your attention somehow.” The admission startles you so bad that you accidentally knock the back of your head against the door, touching the point of contact in pain and hissing slightly. Geto hums at your blunder, then pushes off of the wall to turn away from you. As he rotates, you catch a glimpse of his erection, now fully apparent in the atrocity that is his shorts. “The yard work wasn’t effective, the trips to the gym and back barely worked; shit, by now I would’ve thought you would throw yourself at me the first chance you got. I guess I had to make you mad enough to confront me.”
“You literally looked at me and said nothing the first time I saw you!” you retort, throwing your hands up in the air. “Then you almost bit my head off the first time I came over to tell you the music was too loud.”
“I didn’t expect you to come over the first time. Besides, I couldn’t figure out anything smooth enough in that short amount of time.” Geto shrugs, his shoulder muscles moving like water in the dim lighting of the living room. You look around at the furnishings, noting his impeccable taste in wood and red suede in conjunction with his minimal exercise equipment. “Coffee? You look like you’ve been up for a while.” He leans over a coffee-maker - one of those fancy ones that you’ve seen on TV - and slides a plain coffee cup into the holder.
“Uh, no thanks.” You turn to the door and begin to open it, but Geto clicks his tongue thrice.
“You’re just going to leave without getting what you came for?”
You pause for a moment, then turn back to look him over once. “Don’t you mean what you brought me over here for?” A lazy smile spreads across his face, and that’s when you realize that he’s charming, but not necessarily as suave as you first imagined. You shut the door and walk over to him, examining his physique as if you hadn’t just helped yourself to his tall, statuesque figure already. He allows you to look him over, eyes dedicatedly following you.
“Like what you see, doll?” You don’t get a chance to answer as he pulls you into his chest with a smooth movement, then presses his lips against yours. You instantly open your mouth so he can slide his tongue inside, and he does so without hesitation. Hands grasp at your flimsy night shirt, pulling it over your shoulders as he backs you up against the wall, hiking one leg up and wrapping the other around his waist.
As both of your hands tangle in hair, fabric, sweat, you wonder how long - just how long - he’s wanted to do this. But your train of thought is rudely interrupted by his lips trailing kiss down your neck and to your collarbone, where he pauses for a second, catching his breath. Fingers dance through his locks and he peers up at you for a second, drinking in your flushed expression and breathy exhales.
“Geto, please, I--” You’re silenced again by his lips, his thick fingers rolling past the waistband of your night shorts and right to your core, where he nestles them into your heat with ease.
“Goddamn…” The rumbling of his voice vibrates against your chest, and you gasp, feeling every stroke of his fingers inside of you. “So fucking wet… just for me.” Your vision narrows in on the black eyes watching your every move, the angle of your face, the way you tilt your chin to the side and shakily exhale. Everything is perfect. Maybe even better than he imagined at first. But you don’t know that, and you really don’t care to know. All you want is release and for that release to be at Geto’s hands. When he removes his fingers and hoists you onto the suede couch, your first reaction is to cry out in shock.
His hands roll your shorts down to your knees and then press your legs open, spreading you for him to examine.
“You’re a mess down there… perhaps I should help you clean up.”
“Huh?” The double entendre is completely lost on you in the heat of the moment. You watch as he leans down, then moves to lick your core with a flat tongue, stroking up before he goes down again and repeats his action twice. Your head finds the soft cushion of the pillow in ecstasy, and you let out a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding.
Geto hums down below, fully appreciating your taste before sucking on your clit, hard. You yelp, shooting up, but his hand presses you back down, eyes still closed. Fingers make their way up to your breasts, tugging at your nipples leisurely before tightening and pulling with more tension. “Oh, god, please…” Your hands find his head, and at the sudden application of pressure, he grunts again. And you’re left there in agonizing pleasure, dangling between an orgasm and a build-up of pressure, one stroke away from tumbling into the cavern of blissful unawareness.
Geto stops without warning, pulling back to watch you as he still tweaks your nipples with varying degrees of firmness. You tug at his shorts in a silent plea for him to discard them, and he waits a minute before sliding them off wordlessly. His length is impressive, you note, his cock springing free from his shorts and angled upwards a little. A condom is produced just as quickly, and he rolls it over himself before spreading you a little wider to accommodate his length. When he nudges his cock at your slit, you realise he’s a little breathless and shaking, but that all goes to the back of your mind when he slides inside of you with little resistance.
“Fuck, doll, that’s--” He groans just as you moan, both of you relishing the expanding feeling. “God, that’s perfect.” You whimper at his praise and bring your hands to his shoulders, holding on for dear life as he begins to pump into you. Geto’s lips find your neck and he sucks a hickey on your left side, placing another one neatly below it while his hands cup your ass.
“Does that feel good?” He whispers and you nod, completely at a loss for words. But soon, it’s not enough, and your fingers dig into his back. He’s fucking you slowly… too slowly.
“M-more,” you whine, and he delivers his thrusts faster, pumping into you and moaning loudly. Your fingers find his face and angles it towards your raised head so you can kiss him on the lips. He offers you that mercy - a deep, languid kiss - while he plows into you with abandon. Pleasure is the only thing on your minds - you just so happen to have found it in each other’s arms - and your orgasm is just within reach.
“Geto, I’m close…” His response to your words is to lift your left leg a little higher so it practically hung off the couch and in the air, deeping his strokes until they settled against your cervix, like someone tapping a soft rhythm into your stomach. “Shit, like that.”
“Yeah?” he exhales, looking at your face with a blissed-out expression, his cheeks reddening. You raise your hips to meet his with each thrust, hoping your orgasm would arrive before Geto came. There isn’t much you can do though, besides writhe beneath him and pull him closer to you, thereby making you and him almost inseparable. He’s merely rocking into your hips now, cock barely rolling out of you as before. And you can’t deny that it feels like heaven, not when you’ve been so frustrated for so long.
“I’m gonna cum,” Geto hisses into your mouth, and you nod, constricting a little to urge him on. What you fail to realize is that the constriction was just what you need to tumble over into the abyss of thoughtlessness, and your mouth opens to let loose a guttural moan as Geto fucks you faster and faster, chasing his own orgasm on the heels of yours. “Oh, shit,” Your neighbor sinks into you one final time, shooting his cum into the condom, but pumping in stuttered strokes as if he were really letting loose inside of you.
When you both fall from the heights of your sex-induced high, shoulders and heads are draped where there is comfort and space, little exhales from his mouth fanning across your breasts. Geto lifts off of your sweaty chest and looks you in the eyes before breathing:
“Maybe I should start my days with this instead of a workout.”
#geto x reader#jjk geto#geto suguru#jujutsu kaisen getou#getou x reader#jujutsu kaisen geto#getou suguru#geto smut#getou smut#jjk smut#jujutsuhub collab
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personal disaster
Toji took the personal invitation to be your personal disaster.
REQUEST. toxic toji + enemies to greater enemies + toji railing reader in front of someone they’re seeing because he doesn’t want to see you happy but he doesn’t want to “keep” you either
PAIRINGS. toxic toji x reader x mafia! leader noritoshi kamo (he’s just witnessing the fun, dw)
CONTENT/WARNINGS: rough sex, slight bloodplay, violence, toxic toji, toxic and abusive relationships, choking, begging kink (you’ll be surprised in what way), degradation, mass murder, mentions of blood, cuckolding, overstimulation, reader is kind of crazy, hate fucking, neck slicing, IT’S DARK okay? unedited too, sorry for typos and grammatical errors
WC: 3.5k+
masterlist !
Your arm looped with your fiancé’s, his possessive arm wrapped around your waist. He glared at everyone who stared at you with a lust filled gaze, his cold eyes alone enough to send his people staring at the ground with a tug of their jackets to hide their erection. You almost felt bad for them, knowing that they always saw how your pussy took Noritoshi’s cock so well, but that was it.
They could only see but never had a taste of the specimen you were because you were the mafia leader’s fiancé, soon to be the Queen of his empire while you sat pretty next to him, getting richer and richer with each passing second before you fulfilled your duty and birthed him an heir.
Noritoshi wasn’t in a rush, though. He was a man of sensual pleasure, wanting to take his time with you and getting to know you, and take his time he did.
There was not a day that he didn’t have you moaning under his silk sheets, wrists already chafed from the handcuffs he insisted on using you, simply because he was a man who liked to exert dominance and craved being in power. You never denied him – how could you when all you had to do was spread your legs and you got that coin?
You were beyond a slut for him, however, and this much was clear when Noritoshi announced that you were his and his only.
When even that didn’t deter the curious hands of his people from pumping their cocks at the thought of you, Noritoshi have had enough. He roughly slammed his lips to yours before he melted at the sweetness of your lips, soon turning gentle before he slipped a ring inside your finger to make it official.
Noritoshi, dramatic as ever, wanted everyone to know about this engagement as loudly as he could without opening his mouth.
Your fiancé had a flare for the theatrics, which was why he didn’t blink an eye as he got you an expensive designer dress, hand-stitched, and flaunting you around – flaunting his soon to be wife hanging off of his arm proudly.
He guided you into his limousine until you reached a night sky nightclub that was notorious for its luxury. Not even the richest people belonging in the top tier of society could afford a single ticket, much less a private room. Noritoshi made the right choice by walking with you down the hallways, the walls transitioning from a glossy black to a velvet tint, leading into one of the VIP rooms that was already surrounded by his guards.
The whole way there, Noritoshi didn’t loosen his grip on you, making sure his hand was cupping your ass to flash your ring and his.
Several envious gazes and curious ones later, followed by hushed whispers before the pair of you disappeared behind the double doors, Noritoshi loosened up in his seat, satisfied that he’d marked his territory successfully.
Noritoshi uncapped a bottle of fine whiskey served by a shivering waiter, while you sat next to him, legs crossed enough that the poor blushing waiter flushed at the sight of your bare cunt.
You checked your nails, smirking at the velvet black acrylics Noritoshi was generous enough to let you borrow his black card for. The dress you wore was infinitely superb too, the bust firm enough to push your breasts high enough that the outline of your cleavage was just a step away from exposing your nipples – a tease, as always – just as how Noritoshi wanted.
He was like that; always dangling the treasure right in front of people’s mouths as they salivated in hunger, then bringing it back to his grasp just before they took a bite.
How Noritoshi, you thought.
Out of nowhere, muffled gunshots could be heard from the outside, your eyes cat-like as they glared at the door, waiting for people to burst through. Not a second later, one of your guards rudely invited himself in, pushing the curtain that hid a secret exit as he started babbling nonsense about a madman or something.
“What’s wrong?” Noritoshi asked calmly over his glass, swirling the glass with a satisfying clink. “What’s all the commotion about?”
“Sir, you need to leave! There’s an assassin here and he’s easily taking our men down!”
“Assassin?” he scoffed with a pinch of his brow. “What do you mean assassin? This is a private nightclub – isn’t our security tough?”
“Yes, sir, but he’s easily overpowering us—”
“This assassin you speak of,” you stopped inspecting your nails, placing them over your knee instead. A smirk painted your bold red lips when the guard’s eyes trailed downwards to your shaven cunt, his Adam’s apple bobbing at the sight before he turned away, stiffening harder once he met Noritoshi’s glare. “Is he tall, dark, has a scar running down in his lip and has a crazy look in his eye?”
“Y-yes, that’s exactly him.”
“Do you know who he is, darling?”
You scrunched your noise, uncrossing your legs out of poor mercy to this man. He looked like he’d faint soon – seriously, didn’t Noritoshi have enough sluts for his men to fuck? “An old friend of mine, although I could hardly call him that when he took everything from me,” eyes darkening at the memory of him, you pushed yourself off the velvet cushions of the couch, swiping at the gun strapped to your thigh. “You should leave, Toshi. I’ll handle him.”
“You’ll handle him? It’s unsafe – we need to leave—”
Sigh, he always worried too much over you. It was so easy for him to forget you lived an equally dark life prior meeting him, so you pressed your lips against his, making sure to mark the edges red to remind him he had nothing to worry about. As always, it shut Noritoshi up, his hands coming up to caress at your ass.
“He won’t hurt me,” you assured, palms laid flat on his chest. “Now go.”
Noritoshi wasn’t given a chance when you nodded at his guard, who got the message and dragged his boss away rather harshly behind the curtain. Smirking, you made your way outside, adrenaline rushing through your veins and heat seeping into your core. This night just got a lot more interesting.
Your fun was spoiled, however, when you were met with blood stained walls and limbs torn everywhere. A sneer made its way to your face, not because you were disgusted by the sight, but because he was still as boring and upfront as ever.
He never let you had your fun.
“Toji,” you greeted the tall man sitting on top of the pile of bodies, brows raised because it’s been a long time and he still hadn’t changed. He still wore the exact same fitted black shirt that looked like it would rip into pieces at each of his movements, which to your surprise, never did. “Still as messy as ever, huh?” you clicked your tongue, bunching your dress up with your fists as you stepped over the bodies, making sure not to slip from the sea of blood. “Jeez. You’re not even the least bit concerned about the cleaners.”
“Sweetheart,” he crooned, mirroring your smug expression as he jumped down his throne of corpses, roughly tilting your chin up so you could look him in the eye.
Even with high heels, Toji effortlessly towered over you, reminding you again and again of the strength difference. Though you held your ground pretty well, and he knew this too, otherwise he wouldn’t have struggled so much in his mercenary work the moment you came.
“It’s so nice to see you again – or is that what you wanted me to say?” Your lips stretched for a sinister laugh, Toji beating you to it when his strong hands came to wrap around your neck, slamming you on the wall hard enough he blurred in your vision for a moment. You kept chuckling through the lack of air, tongue darting out to lick the blood of his knuckles. Toji growled, “Don’t think I’ve forgotten what you’ve done to me, bitch. You ruined my pretty face with those nails of yours.”
“Can’t blame a woman, Toji, you weren’t letting me cum.”
“To be fair, you were leaving me after you killed all my clients when I kindly asked you to keep your hands to yourself,” Toji sneered, head darting down to rip the diamond necklace Noritoshi got you onto the ground. You whined upon seeing the crystals scatter onto the floor, millions worth now dipped in blood. What a fucking shame. “But you’ve always been a naughty little minx, aren’t you? You just can’t keep your hands off of beautiful men.”
“Trust me, Toji, what’s inside their pockets are a lot prettier than faces,” you giggled as your hand came up to trace the scar on his lips, eyes narrowed into appreciative slits. “Nothing would ever be prettier than this.”
“Is it still a face you want to sit on?”
“Fuck, yes,” you admitted, pushing yourself off the wall to wrap your legs around him.
The momentum took Toji by surprise, forgetting that you were just as strong as him as he staggered two steps backwards. His grip tightened on your hip to steady you both, the sharp blade of his weapon poking against your thigh threateningly.
It didn’t bother you, and you only nuzzled your nose against his almost affectionately, staring him in the eyes as you mumbled, “I fucking missed you.”
“Then why did you leave?” he grunted while grinding you down on his cock, hissing for a split second when your killer heels dug into his lower back. He could feel blood leaking from how the shoe pierced him, but he made no move to push you away, enticing you to kiss the corners of his lips to worship his scar. He was so beautiful, sinfully gorgeous that you always lost your mind around him.
He was your end, your ruin, your destruction – and you left in a poor attempt to keep your heart safe.
“How long has it been since I had my hands on you, huh, pretty thing? Six months, maybe more? Time gets so blurry when I’m not buried in your tight cunt,” Toji buried his nose in the crook of your neck, using the blade of his sword to tear your dress open, leaving your lower half revealed to him.
“Oh, you asshole, that was expensive!”
“Don’t give a fuck, baby,” he rolled his eyes, and of course he didn’t. Toji wasn’t any better than you; both your minds were always clouded and hazy with sex. “You smell different. Got another man?”
“Hmm, and he’s much better than you are,” Your words ticked Toji off, knowing full well he always hated it whenever you poked at his ego. Toji was a man of many things, and every time you implied that he wasn’t something, you could expect that he would fuck you so hard you wouldn’t be able to feel your legs for days. Now that was exactly what you wanted, so you kept going, your nails travelling under his shirt to leave more scratches at his already ruined back – all thanks to you. “He’s rich, classy, handsome, praises me instead of calls me a little slut—”
“Aren’t you?”
“I am,” you agreed shamelessly with a sultry laugh, looking back at him with a devious glint in your eye. “But I like being worshipped every now and then.”
“Haven’t I done that enough? You talk as if I never made you feel good.”
“Oh, don’t get me wrong, nothing can still compare to your cock, Toji,” Your other hand shoved itself down his pants to feel him, soft pants leaving those pretty mouth of yours when felt his cock bare, the tip already wet with pre-cum.
Of fucking course Toji executed his missions on commando mode – he couldn’t be bothered to keep his fat cock imprisoned.
“But he’s richer. And he’s willing to marry me, breed me until I’m swollen with his children and pamper me afterwards. He’s willing to make me his.”
“You fucking slut,” Toji shoved his tongue inside your mouth, the moans spilling from your lips to his only encouraging him to align his huge length onto your already dripping cunt – always so wet and ready to be filled by him – before he slammed you all the way down. The sudden stretch had you biting on his tongue to muffle your moan, Toji’s hands bruising as he cupped your ass. Toji clenched his jaw upon feeling your walls embrace him warmly, his breaths ragged and faint.
It made your chest swell with pride at the thought that only you could make the infamous Fushiguro Toji this disarranged.
“What is it with you sticking to alpha males all the fucking time?”
“A princess wants her throne beside a handsome prince, Toji. Just because your family didn’t like you, doesn’t mean mine did too. I grew up being told fairy tales while you ran rampant in the streets,” you bit back, the sinister laugh painting the blood red walls dark because you knew Toji better than anyone, and one of the things that always set him off like a bomb was the mention of his abusive family.
You couldn’t wait to see how he would ruin you, and you moaned loudly when Toji grabbed your jaw until your cheeks were squished, the cold of his blade held against your throat sending a shiver down your spine.
“Are you the slightest bit aware of how much I want to kill you right now? Slice your lovely neck and fuck you while you suffocate in your own blood?” You gasped as you felt warm liquid slowly bleed out from the slightest cut, your blood sliding down your chest and under the leftover materials of your dress. Toji used his bare hands to rip the dress apart, your tits bouncing the moment they were freed from its confines.
The guttural groan that echoed from his throat was pure animalistic, similar to the carnal thrusts of his dick that pummelled into you. He pushed you flat on your back until your skin pricked with the shards of glass on the bar countertops, the pain only adding to your pleasure.
Toji kept you locked underneath his arm, his hands choking the air out of you while you clenched around him repeatedly, your walls sucking him in tight enough that Toji lost rhythm in his thrusts. “Only you would like that, Toji,” you choked out in a broken gasp, the man above you growling when you picked up a broken wine glass to push his hands off of you.
Blood coated both your bodies as Toji drove his dick deeper, hitting all the spots that only he could ever reach.
“I’m a man of rare taste.”
“So fucking rare,” you teased. Toji’s middle finger and thumb met once they wrapped around your neck, pulling you off the table to bounce you on his cock, using only his masculine virility and raw strength to fuck you good.
The sudden change of position had the tip of his cock pressing into your most sensitive spots, Toji’s angry grunts sinful yet so erotic as your bumpy walls kissed the veins of his cock.
Toji suddenly wrapped an arm under your breasts, flipping you over until you were met by the sight of Noritoshi standing still outside his VIP room, his gun aimed at the both of you. “Uh-uh – I wouldn’t do that if I were you, pretty boy,” he warned, his words taking a huge hit on Noritoshi when his arm wavered. “One cut is all I need and your lovely fiancé’s body would be swimming in her own blood. Now, you wouldn’t want to waste such a beauty, right?”
“Y/N!” he suddenly dropped his gun, hands raised in surrender beside his head. If Toji wasn’t driving his dick like a fucking animal, you would’ve broken Noritoshi’s nose, ashamed that he surrendered so easily. Noritoshi’s dark eyes turned to Toji’s, heat seeping off of him in waves. “I will never forgive you for what you’re doing!”
“Wasn’t asking for forgiveness, shorty,” Toji pressed, using two fingers to split your lips open, giving Noritoshi the show of his life as Toji’s fat cock stretched you open completely, your puffy lips wrapped around his swollen length.
You knew you looked so dirty right now, skin covered in blood, wearing nothing but your black heels that accentuated your legs while Toji split your body in half.
A strangled moan was pulled from you when Toji hitched one of your legs, his arm hooked behind your knee, completely exposing yourself to Noritoshi. Even though you couldn’t see yourself, the squelching of your pussy taking in Toji’s cream filled dick was so pornographic you couldn’t help the heightening of your arousal, breasts bouncing as Toji kept up his relentless pounding.
“Come on, sweetheart, let him see how much I’m stretching you out. Watch as she loses herself around my fact cock like the fucking whore she is,” Toji laughed, silencing your incoherent fucked out mumbled by shoving a thumb through your lips, smearing your lipstick to the side as if you weren’t a mess already. “Oh, look at his face. You don’t mean to tell me he doesn’t know how filthy you are, huh, sweetheart?”
“Shut the fuck up.”
“What the fuck did you say to me?” Toji slapped your ass, your walls clenching around him on instinct. Noritoshi’s eyes widened when you only moaned in response, the blissful smile on his ace rendering him silent. “Not so threatening now, huh, Kamo?” Toji leered, snickering at the apparent tent growing in your fiance’s pants.
It was absolutely sickening that he got off at the sight of his pretty little fiancé be used by some other man, but Toji respected all kinks, even if he didn’t have much respect for Noritoshi to begin with.
“Come on, sweetheart. Scream for me. Say my fucking name like you always used to. Let’s show this pretty boy here how awful you are before he regrets being with you,” Toji snapped his hips harder into you, causing you to see stars that mixed with the sight of Noritoshi falling onto his knees, your name a plead for his lips.
Toji’s cock only twitched at the sight of seeing someone so helpless, to see the infamous powerful Kamo leader beg for Toji to save you and let you go.
He always knew he had a begging kink, but he didn’t think it would come in this form.
“T-Toshi—” you moaned out, eyes snapped shut. You couldn’t think anymore, the only sounds filling your ears were Noritoshi’s cries and Toji’s ragged pants in your ear, his hand pressing down on the apparent bulge of your lower stomach every time he bottomed out.
“I said, say my fucking name.”
“Toji, Toji, fuck!” you leaned backwards and placed your head on his shoulder while he grabbed your hair to kiss you, that familiar heat beginning to form in your core. Unable to help it, your moans fell left and right, loud enough that it drowned out Noritoshi’s pleads. Toji laughed at both of you – called you the dumbest lovers alive – so he kissed you, more tongue and teeth than lips, his thrusts sloppy and desperate. “Oh, oh fuck, yes, yes, right there, oh!”
“You can never fuck her like I do. You can never make her feel good like I do. See how she’s moaning so pretty for me? You can never have her.”
“You’re so fucking unfair,” you cried out, hands tugging at his hair. Toji never let up for even a moment as his thrusts slowed; the new pace he set slow yet deep. Toji pulled out his cock slowly to make you feel him inch by inch, your walls licking at his cock vein by vein until only the tip was left inside, before thrusting full into you in one swift movement of his hips. “You can’t just break up with me and – fuck – tell me I can’t be with others.”
“I own you, sweetheart – I’m your personal disaster,” Toji taunted, large hands groping at your breast when your eyes snapped open, his last final thrusts turning your pussy to mush.
You came around him, hard and overwhelmingly so. Your hands wrapped around his bicep to steady your shaking legs, his name spoken like a prayer with malicious tone as if to curse him. Toji pushed you off his cock until you fell on the floor, his rough hands grabbing at your jaw again to face him, thick spurts of his cum painting your face.
Taking them all in like a good girl, Toji swiped his length over the slope of your nose and pushed the still hard cock through your lips. His hands gripped your head tight as he fucked into your mouth, nothing but anger shown through that scarred face while your jaw fell slack and sore.
“And I’ll break you over and over again until you’re reminded that you’re mine.”
#fushiguro toji x reader#toji x reader#toji x reader smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader smut#fushiguro toji smut#toji smut#fushiguro toji imagines#toji imagines#fushiguro toji x reader imagines#fushiguro toji x reader smut#jujutsu kaisen#fushiguro toji#toji fushiguro smut#toji fushiguro#jujutsu kaisen drabbles#jujutsu kaisen fushiguro toji#jjk#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jjk x reader smut#this is the darkest and craziest thing i've ever written ngl#i didn't think toji could bring this side out of me but alas#suki: 500 milestone event
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A/N: I would like to preface this by letting everyone know that I am in no way knowledgeable about actual science things. That being said I am amazed that in a random draw I actually managed to get a prompt that had to do with flowers lol. This is my contribution to the BakuHarem Collab! Please take a second to check out the other contributions here!
Warning: bad science, no protection, swearing, overs!mulation, accidental exhibti0som, intoxicated smut? idk sex pollen is a drug i guess.....
W/C: 3.5k
“Bakugou, dude. We should not-”
“Shut up Kirishima!” Bakugou walks through the sterile hallways checking every corner for signs of other people. “That bitch took my top spot with some bullshit flowers?!” He finally gets to the lab that was granted to you for your research. After winning first place, stealing first place in the UA university science expo. He walks into the observing lobby, looking through the large window to make sure you weren’t working in the lab after hours.
“Just keep quiet and listen for any one coming this way.” He walks over to the security door and holds his key card up to it, the light on the scanner turns green and he hears the dead bolt slide open.
Kirishima is lingering behind him, hovering in the doorway. He turns to Bakugou to talk him out of this again but his friend has already entered the lab. “Ahh geez.” He didn’t even wear any safety gear.
As the door clicks shut behind him, Bakugou stops to examine the lab. Several different species of flowers in full bloom behind temperature controlled enclosures. Some of them are recognizable; lavender, chamomile, and jasmine. “I thought it would smell like the perfume department, this fuckin place smells like heaven.” Guess it wasn’t a new shampoo she was using then.
He walks through the aisles turning his head this way and that, trying to find something, anything that he can fuck up without it being overtly obvious. He gets to the back corner of the lab and sees a piece of familiar equipment. “Perfect.”
*****
“He said WHAT?!”
Your roommate flinches at your reaction to her news. “He told Professor Aizawa that your ‘Viagra flowers’ are a joke to the science department and they should ‘wither and die’.”
You’re fuming. That fuck tard Bakugou, mister my shit don’t stink is ridiculing my research? “All that man knows is how to blow shit up! Just cause I beat him in the expo this year, he thinks my research is a joke?!” You stand up from the couch, pacing in front of it and you can’t decide whether to scream or cry. “Why did I ever like that twat?”
Cause he has wide shoulders, big hands and scarlet eyes that -
“Oh for the love of god shut up.” Screw your inner thoughts.
Ochako watches you pace, worrying in her eyes when yours line with silver and your neck flushes bright red. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have told you that.”
You stop moving and look at her, guilt flooding through you as she slumps forward. “Don’t apologize, I was talkin to myself babe.” She nods her head weakly and you stand up straight “I’m gonna go.” You walk to the door grabbing your coat and key card.
“W-where are you going?” Ochako follows you to the door and grabs your wrist gently. You turn to her and smile, she was always so sweet but you knew that if shit went down she would be right beside you, kicking ass.
“I need to blow off some steam, so I’m gonna go check on my ‘Viagra flowers’.” She huffs a laugh and let's go.
“Alright, don’t stay too late.”
You nod, put on your shoes and leave the dorm. It’s a bit of a walk to the building the lab is in and hopefully the cool breeze will calm your mind.
*****
As you walk into the building you are grateful that your professor is more of a night owl than most students. Considering how many naps he takes during lectures it is no wonder he can’t sleep at night. You contemplate going to his office to say hi but think better of it.
Don’t wanna end up venting about Bakugou to my professor of all people.
You walk down the hallway and notice the door to your lab is cracked. Not unusual, a lot of students from your class have been coming and going to see the different species of flowers and plants you are growing. Assuming someone didn’t shut the door behind them you take your phone out of your pocket to check the time. Out of the corner of your vision a quick flash of red and you walk right into Kirishima, Bakugou’s friend and one of your classmates.
“Hey! How- how's it goin?”
You take a step back, rubbing your nose from face planting into his giant chest. Does this guy eat boulders for breakfast? “Hey Kiri! Just gonna do some late night tests! You checkin out my garden?”
“Yeah! Flowers are pretty.” He laughs, it’s high pitched and obviously forced.
You take in his nervous appearance, the fact that he is still standing in front of the door and your mood sours.
“Where is he?”
Kirishima looks like he is gonna try and stall but one look at the fury in your eyes and his head hangs down. “He’s in the lab,” you rush past him and punch in the code to open the door. “I tried to talk him out of it!”
The door clicks shut and the spiky blonde huffs in annoyance somewhere in the back of the lab.
“I told you shitty hair, if you’re gonna keep a look out you have to stand outside.”
You clear your throat and his head shoots up. You walk over to him, taking note of all of the plants and equipment, taking note of anything that looks different. As you get closer to him you notice that he smells particularly good tonight.
Keep it in your pants idiot
“Really Bakugou?” You stop a few steps away from him, noticing the various disassembled parts on the counter top behind him. “What were you gonna do, break my extraction equipment and make it look like a malfunction? Are you a B-Movie villain?”
He stands up and you are reminded of how small you feel next to him, wide shoulders, arms barely fitting the t-shirt he was wearing, strong chest that tapers to a toned waist. He laughs and you look at his face. What I wouldn’t give to just lick from your navel to your neck.
“A B-Movie villain huh? That’s rich coming from the fanfiction cliché scientist.” He crosses his arms, your eyes quickly dart to the sight of his biceps flexing with the movement then back at him.
“Fanfiction cliché? What the actual fuck are you talking about?” You take another step towards him, softly inhaling his scent. Why does he smell so good?
He laughs at you again, the sound caresses your skin and you realize your feeling very, very hot. You drag your fingers through your hair, your eyes zeroing in on a bead of sweat running down the side of his face. When you lick your lips and shift to take another step closer a small part of your brain connects the dots. “What. Did. You. Do?”
Bakugou looks at you, noticing your flushed cheeks and eyes that show you aren’t quite your normal smart and sexy self. Reaching behind himself you hear the unmistakable sound of clinking glass, he grabs a beaker, an open beaker. “Just grabbed this from your equipment, I know how long it takes to extract this stuff. Would suck if it were to suddenly go missing.”
“You idiot! Do you know how potent it is in that form?!” You reach for it but he pulls the beaker out of your reach. “Why do you think I keep it enclosed? You have to close it up now!”
“Why should I?”
Honestly how stupid can this guy get?!
“Put it back in the enclosure first and I’ll explain it to you!” Your breathing is getting heavy, the closer you get to Bakugou the hotter your body feels. You lunge for him again and trip, he hurries to put the beaker on the table behind him and catch you. Put off balance from the position you both crash to the floor with him underneath you. Sighing in frustration you lift yourself up only to bump your head on the table, knocking over the beaker and spilling the extract over you both.
“Shit!” You scramble off of him and run to the door, pressing the exposure button and effectively locking it. You turn to Bakugou and back up trying your best to keep your distance. “Stay on that side of the room, if we’re far enough apart the effects won’t be as bad.”
“What are the effects?” The question is spoken so calmly that you almost convince yourself he didn’t speak at all.
“What are the fucking side effects!?” His shirt is soaked, sticking to his tanned skin. The outline of his chiseled body makes your mouth go dry. You look back at his face, his mouth twisted in frustration at your silence but no less attractive. The sharp angle of his jawline, pink lips slightly chapped, aristocratic nose, scarlet eyes that-
“Take a picture, it'll last longer.” Shaking your head to clear some of the fog in your brain, you focus on him again.
“It’s an aphrodisiac so obviously it enhances sexual desire.”
“Yeah-yeah, sex pollen I get it. But what else?” he rings out the bottom of his shirt, lifting it slightly and you avert your eyes.
“It is not sex pollen, I don’t even use the pollen of the plant.” the last part coming out in a mumble. “The aphrodisiac only works on people who are consenting adults that are attracted to each other.” You clear your throat.
Bakugou freezes for a moment and looks up at you, examining you. The flushed skin, short breaths, and how you keep as much distance between the two of you as the small lab provides.
“So why are you so far away then?” The smirk on his face is sinful as all hell.
Cheeky bastard.
“Surely I don’t have to spell it out for you.” Resisting the urge to turn your face away from him like a pouty child..
“HA!” The smug look on his face momentarily lifts the cloud of lust and replaces it with anger. “Of course you’re attracted to me, who wouldn’t be?”
“Well, aren't you a cocky bastard?” Hoping you're not about to embarrass yourself you take a chance and muster up some courage. Slowly walking up to him you notice that his forehead is glistening with sweat, his breathing heavy, ears and back of his neck flushed with pink. “Tell me, Katsuki. How are you feeling?”
A few steps and you can see his hands balled up in white knuckled fists, a few more his jaw clench and unclench. Once you are only an arms length away you can see him swallow harshly, Adam's apple bobbing, nostrils flaring. You push your breasts against his toned chest, the light friction causing a moan to escape your mouth, the sound going straight to his cock.
“I’m - I’m fine.” Bakugou clears his throat, the sound of his first name from your lips sweeter than it should be.
“Lookin a little flushed, you feeling hot?”
He doesn’t answer, his attention captured by the closeness of your body, your lips, the tops of your breasts peeking out of the v neck top you’re wearing.. He stops breathing when your tongue flicks out to lick your bottom lip.
“Cat got your tongue?”
On impulse his hands move to rest on your hips, eyes never leaving your lips. “What was the question again?”
“How. Are. You. Feeling.” you walk your fingers up his chest with each word before pulling his head down so you can whisper in his ear, the anger fading fast. “Katsuki.” You hear him growl, the sound reverberating through your core, then you're being picked up.
“I’m gonna ruin you.” Bakugou crashes his lips to yours, pressing you up against one of the walls and bracing you with one hand so that the other can wrap around your throat. “Fuck, you drive me crazy.” He bites your lip, licking it to soothe the hurt. “Smart, funny, sexy, beautiful.”
You whine at the words and grind against the bulge in his pants, your pussy throbbing with need. “Need to feel you touch me Bakugou.” He stops moving and you shift to try and grind against him again but he holds you tight, slightly squeezing the sides of your neck.
“What happened to calling me by my first name, baby girl?” Loosening his hand and crouching down as if to put you down you sputter out “Kat-Katsuki Please touch me.”
The feral grin on his face has your pussy drooling and you all but sigh in relief when he stands up straight and slips a hand under your shirt, cupping one of your breasts. “Oh god yes.”
“You’re so soft baby,” he pulls one of the cups down and rolls your nipple in between his fingers. “Take off your shirt, wanna see those pretty tits.”
Katsuki keeps playing with your nipple when you rip your shirt off, making short work of your bra and tossing it. As soon as the other nipple is in view he dives down to suckle it, his mouth hot. You throw your head back, grabbing fistfuls of his hair and pushing your chest out to give him better access.
He is merciless in his teasing, alternating between breasts, making sure to suck each nipple till they are both hard peaks. Kissing the top of your soft globes, your collarbone and neck, everywhere his mouth goes is left with a mark in varying shades of red and purple.
You grow impatient with him, needing to make him feel as good wanting to feel him with your hands, mouth, teeth.
“Wanna feel you too Katsuki.” you whine as he pinches one nipple while nibbling the other one. When you pull on his hair a little he groans but lifts his head, pulling both nipples with him before letting them go.
“What do ya wanna feel, baby girl?”
With all your inhibitions throw out the window you lean down and whisper in his ear. “Wanna feel you fuck me.”
You pull away and he quickly sets you down, you’re about to object when he takes his shirt off in one smooth motion then starts unbuttoning his jeans. You rush to follow, unzipping your pants and pulling them down, before you can pull down your panties he grabs your hand stopping you. “Leave ‘m on.”
Katsuki picks you up again before you can get a good look at his cock, but when it's pressed against you there is no need to see it. “Fuck you’re huge.”
He smirks at you, smug pride in his eyes. “Glad you approve.” Reaching a hand down he pulls your panties to the side and runs his fingers through your wet folds. “This all for me?” bringing his fingers up to show you the slick dripping down them he puts them in his mouth and sucks. “Gonna have to enjoy that tasty treat later.”
Your body is burning up, breathing is heavy as you both watch him drag his cock along your wet slit before pushing in. Your moans echo in the lab and neither one of you cares as Katsuki's cock drags against your inner walls until bottoming out. Right now is not the time for slow strokes, not with the aphrodisiac flowing through both of your bodies, so he starts a pace that has your ass slapping against his thighs.
“C-cumming!” You scream out before your body bows in on itself and you're creaming around his cock.
“Already?” a sideways grin on his face Katsuki starts moving you up and down in time with his thrusts, his cock reaching that much deeper. “Gonna cum for me again? Come on baby, wanna feel you milk my cock.”
Your mind is going blank, the only thing running through it is Katsuki. “Please don’t stop,” you dig your nails into his shoulders. “M Gonna cum again.” His thrusts go shallow and the head of his cock drags against your walls, hitting all the right spots.
You’re repeating his name endlessly, the only word that is in your mind then you’re cumming again. Your legs tense around his waist and your pussy clenches down hard enough that he has to stop moving or risk hurting you. He watches your face contorted in pleasure and starts thrusting as soon as he feels your orgasm subside.
“One more.”
Your head fuzzy, body limp from two orgasms. “I can’t!”
“Wrong,” Katsuki pulls out for a second, setting you on the floor and pushing on your back. You obediently bend forward grabbing the edge of the counter top and he wastes no time in rutting back into you. “You want me to stop?”
“NO”
“Then you got one more beautiful thing.” He sticks two fingers in his mouth, getting them wet then reaches around rubbing soft circles on your puffy clit. His other hand gripping your hip, before moving up and grabbing your shoulder using it as leverage to fuck into you harder.
“Come on, cum for me.”
You turn your head to the side trying your best to look in his eyes, yours tearing up at the overstimulation. “You cum too, fill me up Katsuki.”
“Oh fuck yeah.” Bending his knees he thrusts up into you and with the new angle, teasing circles being rubbed on your clit and the feral moans coming out of his mouth you cum one last time.
Fuckfuckfuckfuck
Katsuki cums after you, rope after rope of cum coating your fluttering walls.
You both stand there catching your breath. Katsuki pulls out and you whimper, “Oh don’t worry beautiful,” he picks you up again, walks over to a chair and sits down with you in his lap “not done with you yet.”
By the time you are spent both of you are exhausted and lost track of how many times either of you came. He helps you stand up, quickly pulling your panties back in place. “Don’t want you leakin.”
You giggle and pick up your clothes from the floor, he helps you get dressed and you both walk to the door. Making sure to check the air quality before leaving the lab you confirm that nothing is left in the air and unlock it. Before opening the door you turn to him opening your mouth to ask a question but he talks first.
“Let's go back to my room, yeah? I’ll help you clean up.” His voice rough from moaning and growling but you can see a small smile on his lips. Even though you know that the effects of the extract have worn off you can’t help but worry that he is still under their influence. Nodding your head you turn away from him again and open the door, walking into the lobby.
“I assume you're finished with the lab?”
You stop dead in your tracks, Katsuki bumping into you. “P-professor Aizawa?” Red hair peeks out behind him and Kirishima looks at you both with a nervous sharp toothed smile and red face. The fog of your memory clears and you vaguely remember hearing knocking on the window and door while you were… indisposed.
Katsuki steps in front of you, from the lack of red on his face or neck you know he isn’t nearly as mortified as you. “How long have you been standing there?”
The tired eyes of your teacher examine both of you. “Long enough.” He sighs heavily and pinches the bridge of his nose. “You are both to meet me in my office tomorrow morning.”
And just before you can’t get anymore embarrassed he walks out and says over his shoulder. “The labs aren’t sound proof, and these walls echo.”
@doinmybesthere @patchworkpuzzle @eyebagsbutglam @sugarspiceanddynamight
#bnharem collab#katsuki bakugou#bakugou katsuki#bnha katsuki x reader#katsuki bakugo x reader#katsuki x y/n#katsuki x reader#katsuki x you#bakugo x y/n#bakugo katuski x reader#bakugou katuski x reader#bakugo x reader#bakugou x y/n#bakugou x reader#bakugo mha#bakugo katsuki#bakugou x you#lilliths masterlist#lillith writes
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making things right
you and iwaizumi just aren't meant to be, and if he has to fuck some sense into your little brain for you to understand, then so be it.
wc: 2.8k
tags/tw's(PLEASE READ): noncon, explicit n*fw, blackmail, emotional manipulation, emotional sadism, dumbification, degradation, fem!reader with inner genitals, has something resembling an actual plot
a/n: i couldn't decide which way i wanted to go with the plot, so i just did both. read a darker version of this here
i don't want minors interacting with my content
Oikawa really doesn’t like how much time Iwaizumi has been spending around you lately.
It’s not that he’s jealous, of course - that kind of pettiness is far beneath him - it just doesn’t seem right. It’s not the natural order of things for someone as pretty as you, all soft skin and glowing smiles, to be practically draped around Iwaizumi all the fucking time.
He’s counted, you know, and today was the thirty-eighth time that you’ve visited their lunch table and somehow ended up on Iwaizumi’s lap.
And doesn’t he also have to think of his team? The Spring Interhigh’s coming up, and it wouldn’t do for one of the most important players on the team to be constantly distracted. He’s seen the way Iwaizumi looks at you: it’s adoration encapsulated in a gaze, the kind of tenderness and admiration that he’s only ever seen Iwaizumi direct at himself.
Oikawa’s going to have to fix this, isn’t he? He’s going to have to make everything the way it should be.
-
He finds that he enjoys the constant planning and brainstorming and especially the fantasizing far more than he’d anticipated.
Oikawa notes down which days you go home immediately after school, which days you stay, and the routes you take home. He writes down all your friends in a little notebook, familiarizes himself with the classes you take, and pays extra attention to your mood swings.
Of course, as he spends more and more time detailing every aspect of your life, it’s only natural for his thoughts to… wander. In class, he catches his own attention drifting away from Japanese literature to thoughts of what you’d look like strung out on his cock, eyes squeezing out tears as he stuffs you full and claims your pussy. He thinks about how slutty your skirt looks when you’re bending over, and about how much he’d like to rip it off of you. He likes to imagine how Iwaizumi would react, too - the way he’d cry and sob and finally understand that you don’t belong with someone like him.
He finds that these thoughts allow him to tolerate Iwaizumi’s presence near you a lot better, even though the two of you have only grown closer as of late. When you start getting particularly obnoxious with your flirting, he just has to picture you screaming in pain as he fucks you dry, or think about the bulge in your throat from his cock shoved deep inside your mouth. And when he sees Iwaizumi finally ask you out on a date to the ramen place nearby, he almost feels sorry for how short-lived, how temporary, your romance is going to be.
As the weeks go by and the Interhigh draws near, Oikawa thinks he’s got a pretty good idea of how to make it happen.
It starts off almost too easy.
Oikawa’s usually the one who stays late after practice, slamming his serves into the opposite end of the court until his vision goes dizzy and his arms turn numb. But Iwaizumi - bless his generosity - had planned on staying after to help a few of the first years out with their serves.
He waits at the school gates, scanning the entrance for any sign of you. You should be finishing up with your little club soon if the notes he’d been keeping were any indication, and sure enough, he spots your bright teal jacket scurrying towards the gates after just a few minutes.
Oikawa plasters on his friendliest smile, waving you towards him. “Hey,” he greets. “Iwa-chan told me to wait for you today. Do you want to come over? He’ll be along in just a minute - he’s just cleaning up the gym a bit.”
“Aren’t you the captain?” you tease. “So much for being responsible.”
He forces out a laugh. Do you realize how insufferable you are? Because you’re really not doing yourself any favors with the way you’re acting. But he pushes down the surge of anger that threatens to spill over, because he knows you’ll change your tune as soon as you arrive at his place.
He can’t wait.
The walk home is filled with empty banter, useless conversation that flits back and forth on the most boring of topics. To be honest, Oikawa appreciates this - it gives him the mental room to think about much more interesting things, like the way your breasts are pushing against the jacket, or the slight sheen of your lip gloss. Or, alternatively, the way your breasts would look spilling out of his hands, and the way your shiny lips would look smeared with spit and cum.
He places a hand on your waist as he guides you inside his house, but you stiffen. “Isn’t Hajime supposed to have caught up to us by now?” you ask.
Hajime.
First name basis, huh?
It’s a small detail, but it’s the kind of change that has him seeing red at the periphery of his vision, the kind that makes him want to ruin your slutty body until it's bruised and leaking cum. He’s been friends with Iwaizumi for twelve years. Twelve years, and all he’s gotten from him is a nickname. You’ve known him for barely a fucking year, and here you are, sauntering away with his first name.
His hand on your waist tightens, gripping and squeezing at your lovely flesh until he can feel you wince in pain. “I’m afraid it might be a while,” he says, voice brittle.
“What do you mean?” you ask, turning around, your eyes widening.
Oikawa shoves you inside and slams the door. “I mean,” he hisses. “That your precious Hajime won’t be coming around anytime soon.”
Panic rises in your throat, but he slaps a hand over your mouth quicker than you can scream. All that escapes is a strangled cry, weak and thin, one that quickly dies out in the entrance hall of his house. It’s much too quiet to reach any neighbors, you realize with a sinking feeling. The last bit of faint hope you harbor in the back of your mind dies when you realize that there’s no concerned housewife coming to check on the commotion, no fumbling child who might stumble in on you and Oikawa. You’re alone. You’re fucked.
He’d made sure of it.
“Bitches like you are so stupid, aren’t you? Making me spell everything out for you.” His voice drips condescension as he yanks you by the hair towards the bedroom. There’s no reason to put up an act anymore, he thinks, so he can be as rough as he wants with his new toy - he just has to make sure he returns you in one piece to Iwaizumi. Oikawa’s sure he won’t mind if you’re a little beat up around the edges, a little used by the end of this.
As he throws you down on the bed, the thought gives him immense satisfaction. You’d been so eager to do things with Iwaizumi - he’d coaxed out embarrassed confessions from his friend over late-night calls - so he’s almost sure that you’re a needy slut during sex.
Of course, you’re not nearly so eager now, not when he’s holding your squirming body down on the bed.
“You do realize that this is what you get, right? It’s your fault for being this fucking easy. Should’ve thought a bit harder about going home with me. Did your mommy and daddy never teach you to not trust men?” he says, face curling into a smile.
You’re unable to get a word out, mouth dry and cottony from the fear that pierces you. He watches your eyes flicker between the bulge in his pants and his face, uncertain and wary, like a deer caught in headlights. Oikawa can’t help the sick pleasure that bubbles up within him at the look on your face.
“Please,” you say hoarsely. “Please.”
“You have to use your words, you know. You could be begging me to stop, but I think you like this. I think you’re begging me to get on with it,” he says.
Maybe he’s taking it a step too far with the dramatics, but he can’t bring himself to tone it down - not when he’s right about to get to the good bit, and certainly not when he sees those pretty tears trickling down your face.
He looks you up and down appraisingly. He’d always thought you were rather pretty, with your soft halo of hair and your glittering smile - but he can’t deny that there’s a special sort of charm in the way you fidget uncomfortably under his gaze.
It makes him hungry.
As he spreads your thighs apart, all he can think about is how much he wants to claim you, to ruin you, because that’s what he imagines fucking you is like: ownership and victory spread on his tongue while your juices drench his cock. All the filthy dreams he’s had, every fantasy he’s gotten off to late at night, and the stifling heat spreading through his core is begging him to fuck you, to ravish your tight hole until the only name you know is his own.
He doesn’t really want to bother with prep. He’s sure that stretching you out on three - no, maybe four fingers until you scream would be fun, but you don’t deserve that kind of special treatment. Aren’t sluts like you supposed to be wet all the time anyway?
You can feel the outline of his dick dragging along your soft thighs, pressing close to your cunt, a breathy moan escaping his lips from the friction of his sweatpants grinding against your body. It’s not long before he pulls his cock out all the way and strokes it a few times. He grabs at your hips, maneuvering you like a rag doll, and fits the tip of his cock at your fluttering entrance. Nudging at your hole, he pushes in just the head of his cock - enough so you can feel the sting of his girth, but not nearly deep enough to offer any real relief.
You whine involuntarily, and a grin lights up his face. “You’re desperate, aren’t you?” he asks, dragging a thumb against your lips. “Is it because Iwa-chan doesn’t fuck you well enough? Is his pathetic dick too small to fill up that hole of yours properly?” he leers. “I’ve seen his cock before… mine’s bigger, you know.”
“Fuck you,” you mumble. You’re dizzy from the fear and panic that clouds your brain, but anger still seeps into your veins at his crude words.
Maybe if your head was a bit clearer, you would’ve realized that only stupid girls talk back.
Oikawa’s hips snap into yours harshly, his cock tearing at your insides, and you let out a strangled gasp. You’re not prepared for how well his cock stretches you out - it’s curved in all the right places, ramming into your cervix, brushing up against your tender g-spot - and as he ruthlessly pounds your frail body into the mattress, your mind blanks, overloaded with sensation. You can’t remember who you are, or why you’re getting fucked. The only thing on your mind is the raw feeling of being cunt split wide open, of having your insides rearranged until you’re a drooling, dumb mess.
“Fuck who?” he asks, shoving two fingers inside your sloppy mouth,
“F- fuck…” you whisper. His fingers are gripping at your hips so tightly you can feel the skin beginning to bruise, and there’s just too much to handle. He’s everywhere; his fingers probe around your mouth, making you gag, and his cock drags along your tender walls until you’re left quivering around his length.
He leans down to kiss at your forehead, his lips brushing tenderly against your hair. “You can do it, baby,” he encourages, cooing at you. “You can say it.”
“Fuck me,” you whimper quietly, cheeks burning with shame.
“Good girl,” he says, voice sickly sweet. “I knew you could do it for me.”
Fucking you feels so much better once you’re compliant, he thinks. He slows down a bit, savoring the sensation of your cunt twitching uselessly while you writhe on the bed in pleasure. He feels a sharp jolt of arousal as he looks at the marks he’s left all over you, admiring how the angry bruises on your hips and waist are beginning to purple.
You tug at his shirt, sniffling and crying. “Please,” you beg. You’re not sure what you’re asking for anymore, not even sure whether you want Oikawa to stop or continue, but you can’t handle the way he’s slowly fucking you senseless.
He raises an eyebrow. “You want it faster?” he asks cruelly, bouncing you into his cock. There’s no response on your end, but Oikawa thinks he’ll take that as a yes. And if that’s what you want?
Well, that’s what you get.
The hum of pleasure in your core intensifies as he picks up speed again. This time, he angles his cock until it grinds down harshly on your sensitive spot, leaving your legs limp and body helpless as your cunt tightens like a vice. As you shudder from the orgasm that washes over you, he spills into your pussy until your hole is leaking white down your thighs.
You can feel him laughing softly as he pulls out and climbs to rest beside you, leaving you stuck in a pool of your own sweat and cum and. He wipes the remaining cum off of his cock, smearing it on your face, but you barely react. You feel so dirty, so tainted and violated, but you’re not sure you could move even if you tried - his cock has left you boneless and made sure that every square inch of your body is sore and aching.
“Well,” he says, breathless. “Better run home unless you want Iwa-chan to know you’ve been all used up.”
Hajime? Your eyes widen, welling up with tears.
Oikawa unlocks the phone in his hand and presses play.
The sounds that echo through the empty room make you feel like screaming, because there’s no denying the solid, tangible proof that’s being played back. Your breathy moans are clear as day, and it’s unmistakable when you hear yourself begging Oikawa to fuck you harder, faster, to split you apart on his cock.
With a sinking feeling, you know there’s no explanation that would ever satisfy Hajime if he heard this audio. You can already see the pain in his eyes if he were to find out that his best friend for the past twelve years had ruined you, fucked you so thouroughly that you could barely tell the difference between pain and pleasure.
You don’t want that, you realize miserably. You can’t have that.
“I’m not going to send it,” he says. He sees hope creep into your expression, as if you’re almost daring to believe that you could go back to your normal life after this little session, but he doesn’t feel any pity for you when he speaks again.
“Not if you stay away.”
You and Hajime don’t belong together anyway, so why would he be sorry?
Your eyes drop as you inhale shakily. Oikawa watches you fumble around for your clothing, entertained by the way you trip and stumble as your weak legs attempt to hold you upright. It makes for an awkward, ugly image - but he can’t deny the warm thrill of satisfaction that runs up his spine as you slink out of his bedroom.
He’s finally making things right.
-
When you go to school the next day, you’re glad that you don’t have any classes with Hajime for the first time ever. It makes it easier to avoid him, and you purposely choose to sit as far away as possible from their table in the lunchroom. You don’t bother responding to his messages either, every single text of his sending a bitter jolt of pain through you, and you eventually block his number.
Weeks later, you’re not sure he’d believe you even if you were to explain everything. What would you even say? That you’d been ignoring him and ghosting him because his best friend of twelve years had raped and blackmailed you? That someone he knows and trusts was capable of devastating violence? Oikawa and him seem closer than ever, and you start to wonder at your own stupidity. To think that you could ever get in between a bond as close as theirs - maybe Oikawa was right all along.
You’re walking home alone one day, the hazy late-day sun bathing the roads in a shimmering heat, when you hear footsteps and a voice behind you. Your heart hammers unsteadily, getting ready to run, when you hear three words that make your stomach drop.
“I’ve missed you.”
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