18+ | mean girl!reader drunkenly dryhumping with nerdjo in the closet of a party! (YA GIRL IS BACK BABYYY)
this was not how satoru thought his night would go.
suguru had dragged him to a party against his will, parties were not exactly satoru's scene, but suguru thought it would be good for him— good for getting over his stupid crush on you.
you were the campus mean girl, and got did you make his life hell. but even so, satoru was still hopelessly devoted to you. how could he not be? you were so gorgeous..
pathetic, he knows.
so when he saw you drunkenly storming off into a closet under the stairs of the frat house while crying, he wanted nothing more than to be a shoulder to cry on.
its not his fault you wanted more.
your warms hands rested on the sides of his neck and heat rushed to his cheeks, making his face red and his adams apple bob up and down.
and as your lips sloppily met his, he was already so far gone.
you moved up and straddled his hips, he gasped and his hands moved to your waist as he held on for dear life. he was already hard when your hands touched his neck, and now that you were in his lap, straddling him, he was so erect it was painful.
you moved your hips in a circle, his massive bulge rubbing against your clit just right..
his head fall back against the wall, hips involuntary bucking up, every desperate grind sent a bolt of pleasure throughout his body, it was almost too much. this exact scenario was something he's definitely fantasized about before.
he pathetically whimpered like crazy, his grip on your waist going down to grope your ass.
he had begged for his, dreamed of this, for months.
and now you were actually here, grinding up against him like you couldn't get enough.
he came in his jeans with a choked sob, you giggled and kept on moving your hips, cruelly overstimulating him just for the fun of it.
but you know what? he was fine with it.
hed do whatever you want, no complaint.
just like the good boy he is.
TAGLIST: (OPEN) @nerdy-beez @nyxiedreams
this is kinda sucky sorry i havent wrote anything in a while im a lil RUSTY.
How long does it take to turn you into a cumdump? I think about that a lot, actually. Especially right now, when my cock is throbbing and I'm leaking at work just thinking about getting home to you. About how I'm not going to waste a single moment warming you up. I'm just going to grab you and start the timer.
So how fast can we do this?
I'm thinking something like two minutes.
Maybe three if I'm feeling generous.
Walking through the door, pushing you face down into the couch, shoving your skirt up just far enough and driving straight in. That wet sound of me forcing my cock into you while you're still adjusting to the stretch. Pulling you back onto me while I hold on tight and keep you steady. Hard fast strokes that serve exactly one purpose. My hips slamming against your ass while I use you the way I always do. Me climbing to the peak, and you just barely managing to hold on.
And you love this. That's what makes you so special. You love that I walked through the door and had my cock inside you before you finished your sentence. You love feeling how hard I am, how much I leaked just thinking about you. You love being fucked feral, like you're just a warm little rag doll that has to take it while you get thrown around. Because both of us know that the less I care about your pleasure the wetter you get. Every selfish thrust is doing more for you than an hour of foreplay ever could.
You're whining into the cushion and I'm not even listening because a minute has gone by and I know I'm running out of time. I bury myself as deep as I can and that's when you know I'm cumming. Groaning through every pulse while I hold your hips flush against mine. A few heavy ropes and then the rest leaking out around my cock, but I keep grinding through it, spreading the mess around because I want every last drop inside you.
Pulling out. Breathing hard. Giving your ass a little slap.
Thanks baby. Fuck, I needed that.
Tucking myself away while you're still bent over catching your breath. Two minutes ago you were a person, but now you're flushed and wrecked with your skirt around your waist. Now you're a cumdump. That's how fast it can happen. That's how thin the line is between whatever you think you are and what I can turn you into.
You weren't sure how it happened, really. One minute, you're giving Herman a pep talk on how to make the first move with someone he likes. The next, he's got you bent over in the storage closet, pressing his wet torso against your bare back.
"Oh, God. So go-good for - fuck- better than good, amazing." Droplets of water slip down your neck. His uneven thrusts managed to hit your sweet spot every single time. You dig your nails into the wall in front of you, sinking your teeth into your arm to keep yourself quiet.
"Is it good? I'm doing good?" Herman pants into your ear, pulling your head softly so he can look in your eyes.
"Yes! Yes , yes, yes, Herman~!" You grab his hand, pulling it down so he can feel the bulge he makes in your belly. He gasps, and his hips stutter as he falls over the edge, cumming deep inside you. You press his hand down over the bulge, eyes rolling back as your orgasm rocks your body.
"Mm, really like you. Like you so much." Herman whines into your neck, eyes shining with tears. "Can I take you out? On a date, out on a date, me and you?" He fumbles over his words, still buried balls deep inside of you.
"Yeah... Yeah, Herman, we can go on a date." You whisper, trying to steady yourself on your shakey legs. After a few minutes of putting yourselves together, you leave the storage closet first and rush to the locker room to change your clothes.
warning/tags: MDNI. NSFW. daddy kink, dom/sub undertones, praise, squirting, slow burn? Lucifer x fem!sinner!reader, established relationship, vaginal fingering, finger sucking, slight teasing, dirty talk, freaky, choking, and lowkey shit writing, hella Lucifer glaze, sorry not sorry
a/n: yes, hazbin hotel season 2 is out and i cannot stop thinking about Lucifer Morningstar, his fine self. i seriously went a bit crazy with this, but that last episode with his new song had me FERALL | ᯓ★ 𝔪𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱
When the people of hell ask you what it’s like dating the king of hell, Lucifer, you would first say how you simply didn’t expect it to happen.
Sure, he’s always made you feel a type of way. Your first time seeing him, you knew you’d want to sink your fangs in.
Then you saw his true demon form, and his beautiful pearly white and red wings on the day of that crazy, holy, battle, and before you could stop your mouth from moving.. “Wow..” you sighed, in awe of the king himself. “He’s beautiful.”
Charlie, of course, was already watching you with that crazed, hopeful, look in her eyes and since then she made it her mission to get you guys together.
It isn’t news that Lucifer isn’t fond of sinners, he thinks they’re disgusting and the worst. But you believe in Charlie’s cause. You had a hopeful and beautiful look in your eye as Charlie explained the hotel to you. Lucifer most certainly noticed that, and it made it easier for him to fall for you.
Your relationship with him grew to be extremely passionate, romantic and beautiful.
Who knew the fallen angel, Lucifer, the king of hell, could love so hard.
Coming across Lucifer was like finding a diamond in a gold mine. You truly believe you are the luckiest woman in hell. His loyalty to you is unlike any devotion you’ve seen from others. He genuinely loves you, and you love him.
Actually, he’s OBSESSED with you in every single way, and is always so quick to compliment you, kiss you, touch you, please you.
He’s such a simpp, but you lovee it. You CAN’T have it any other way. Fuck that nonchalant shit, you like what’s yours to be loving you loud and without shame. And that’s exactly the kind of person YOUR king of hell is. Your precious, fallen angel.
And believe it, he’s sooo eager to please HIS precious, little angel.
That’s why when you two are relaxing downstairs with the rest of the gang, and you tug on his coat, looking up at him through your pretty lashes to get his attention, he immediately knows something is up.
His precious girl definitely needs something. You can’t help it or control yourself, stealing quick glances at him while you’re with everyone else still makes you get flashbacks of your last night with Lucifer. You couldn’t take it anymore.
You lean closer and whisper in his ear, “Luci, my love. I need you so bad right now.” He thinks he might just pounce and fuck you right then and there.
Ohhh, FUCK, he’s ready to ruin you.
Subtly and sneakily, watching the others to make sure they don’t interrupt your “spicy convo”, he snakes his hand around your waist and pulls you in a bit closer, locking eyes with you.
He leans in as well, his breath on your ear sending literal shivers down your spine and asks, “You gonna be a good girl for your king, angel?”
You sigh and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him flush against you, and whisper against his lips, “Anything for you, my king.”
⛧☾༺♰༻☽⛧
Yeah, he thinks he might just die.
Actually, YOU think you might die.
He has you wetter than you’ve ever been before, fingering your pretty little pussy with his jaw slacked, and eyes hooded, filled with a deep, dark desire.
He’s hungry for more, breathless, watching you squirm and react to every single touch he blesses you with.
He loves to finger the shit out of you, finger your pussy soo good, and watch you come undone from just that alone, sometimes, and he’s most certainly skilled at it.
“He must have the hands of God.” You think to yourself as your back arches.
It’s not enough, though. He NEEDS more.
He leans down toward your perfectly fucked out face and makes out with you so passionately, letting his tongue feel around in your mouth, letting both of your tongues tangle and swirl around each other. The kiss is HOT, sexy and desperate.
He pulls away from the kiss but still keeps his face very close to yours, his labored breaths hitting your face. You note how he smells like cinnamon bark and vanilla. God, you just wanna devour him.
“Baby,” you whine against his lips.
He curls his fingers and moves them in and out rhythmically. “That feel good, my sweet girl?”
“Mhmm, yess, baby. Fuu- yess, Luci,” You choke out.
He groans at the sound of your voice, he just lovess hearing you moan. You’re so loud and reactive. He can never ever get enough of it, how filthy the sounds are that you make, but how it’s so fucking sexy at the same time. He can’t stand it.
He can’t stop himself from bringing his hand around your throat and continues to finger fuck you at the same time. He brings himself closer to your ear and licks it a little before huskily mumbling in your ear, “Say yes, daddy.”
You gasp and shiver at the sensation of his forked tongue on your ear and his low voice. You might just come right now.
“Mmm. Y-Yess, daddy,” you whimper, desperately. You can’t take it anymore, you’re seriously wet and horny for him, off his skilled ass fingers and his voice.
You moan again while grinding against his hand, “Faster, please, daddy, please. M’gonna come.” The words helplessly spill out from your pretty lips, filled with heat and undeniable desire.
He moans from hearing you beg, letting him know how how dumb you are off his fingers alone.
“Yeah, angel? You love when daddy fingers you like this, hm? My pretty girl.” He muses as he changes his fingers’ tempo, removing them from inside you and bringing his very wet fingers to rub your clit, rubbing it so quickly that you immediately approach your climax.
“Mm, yess, daddy, please keep goingg, just like tha— ah!” You squirt like crazy. All over his hands and his sheets, your slick and wetness is everywhere.
“Woww, look at you,” Lucifer hisses, more than amused. “Look at this mess you made from only my fingers, princess.“
He brings his fingers to your mouth, giving you a knowing, suggestive look and you waste no time on wrapping your yummy lips around his digits, sucking and slurping all over his fingers. Sucking them like they are his hard, delicious cock.
You lick and suck his fingers clean, eagerly, moaning around them, all while looking him in the eye, happy to please your king in any single way.
He moans and literally growls at the sight of you licking his fingers like they’re about to disappear, and he thinks he might lose it.
He knows he’s really done it, though, when he feels your pretty hands paw at his hard on, through his trousers.
He looks at you to find out you’re already hungrily looking at him through your wet lashes and you literally fucking purr, “Your turn, daddy.”
He’s in for a longgg night, baby.
⛧☾༺♰༻☽⛧
a/n: wow. i must say i had SO much fun writing this. i’ll be honest, i never thought i’d ever end up writing for Lucifer or any character from hazbin, for that matter. but i seriously couldn’t help myself. this is also unexpectedly long. i just love writing for a simpy ass mannn ugh
warnings: nsfw. mdni¡ lots of nastiness. possessive/mean bakugo, overstim, nasty talk, lil soft aftercare bc he can’t help it
MASTERLIST
a/n: while i’m writing for the lovely requests i saw btw thank you to everyone that sent requests i promise i saw them all and they were amazing hahaha i wrote this while i was drunk lol enjoy 🤽🏿♀️
-bakugo doesn’t do chill sex. he fucks like he’s training for the olympics. sweaty, rough, swearing the whole time. every thrust feels like he’s trying to prove something.
-if you mouth off?? oh you’re done. you talk shit to him and suddenly your legs are folded back, bed creaking, and he’s right in your face like: “say it again. bet you fuckin’ won’t.”
-he gets off on wrecking you. like actually obsessed with making you cum until you’re crying. it’s not sweet, it’s competitive. “thought you could tap out? nah. you’re takin’ it until i say.”
-his fingers??? literal weapons. he finds your g-spot once and then abuses it like he’s mad at it. he’ll be leaning over you, growling in your ear: “yeah, right there? that’s all mine.”
-he’s nasty about oral. eats pussy like it’s a challenge, not a favor. drags you to the edge of the bed, throws your legs over his shoulders and doesn’t let up until you’re literally sobbing. if you try to squirm away? nah. he pins you down and snarls, “you’re not fuckin’ done ‘til i say.”
-absolutely spits in your mouth. no hesitation, no warning. you make one bratty comment and suddenly his hand’s gripping your jaw, tongue on yours, and he’s muttering “swallow it like the slut you are.” you’ll be dizzy and soaked after.
-lowkey into breeding talk but will never admit it. you moan about how full he’s got you and his whole body stutters, breath ragged. “shut up—fuck—don’t say shit like that.” meanwhile he’s fucking you deeper, grinding it in like he wants to prove it.
-hates when you tease him in public. if you’re being flirty around the others, expect to get railed within an inch of your life the second you’re alone. bent over a sink, teeth in your shoulder, growling, “you think anyone else can handle this attitude? nah. only me.”
-bakugo is SO mean in bed it’s ridiculous. calls you loud, bratty, messy..but his dick twitches every time you moan his name. “shut the fuck up,” while secretly loving that you can’t.
-he’s insanely possessive. if he even catches another guy looking at you, you’re not walking tomorrow. “you’re mine. no one else gets to see you like this.” and then he fucks it into you until you believe him.
-aftercare is so on brand for him. he’ll toss you a towel and be like “jesus christ, you’re needy as hell” … but then he’s pulling you onto his chest, kissing your hair, whispering shit he’d deny if you called him on it.
It was comical to Pope's family that he had fallen for a stripper. They’re latent amusement was hardly concealed through their frequent comments, consistently dragging on the reality of your work. There wasn’t a Cody brother that didn’t know the layout of your body over the thin veil of dazzling bralettes and tasseled panties, the smooth switch of your hips, the angle of your heels perching up your plush ass, the curl of your glossy lips and glittered eyelids. A notion that should have unsettled Pope, his disregard of the fact had perplexed them all entirely. Pope, who had a notoriously difficult time with sharing any and all things he held dear, you above all else.
Pope sheltered himself in the gradual withdrawal of light, a passenger in the shadows, stiffness lining the folds of his shirt. The perpetuating speckle of colored lights shadowed the bridge of the booth seat where he sank low, seedy club swarming with stumbling fools, trailing after expensive girls glittered with rhinestones. Eyes dim like the fading light shadowed pitch black under the purplish and red hues that danced across the walls, scanning the vacant stage, the clack of thick heels drumming in chorus to the loud music vibrating the base of his seat. The purplish haze thrummed under the heavy bass of the music, lilted laughter crafted faux interest, the long smooth legs of the dancers switched hips across the floor, leading cash stuffed palms to private rooms. The spherical daze of alcohol lingered in men's hooded eyes, thick stubby fingers grabbing at the plush skin swaying infront of them, effectively guided away with disarming smiles.
“Andy,” the lilt of your pretty voice broke Pope from his steady gaze across the floor, your dazzling smile curled just for him. “Are you ready to go?”
The lamplight of your living room hung over the space in a mask of yellow-orange dimness, the splintered shadows of you and Popes melting together against the wall. Your lips slotted against Popes, sticky gloss spreading across his parted lips, eagerly guiding his broad hands over the expanse of your covered thighs. Your lips were soft, tentative at first, easing him into the feeling of your warm mouth on his before your lips pressed to part his lips, prodding your tongue against the seam of his lips. Your tongue soothed slowly over his own, nose brushing the warm apple of his cheek, tongue sweeping along the back of his teeth in a way that was foreign to him, pulling an excitable rumbling hum from the back of his throat, his fingers clutching to the soft pants you had slipped on after your exhaustive shift.
He felt like a teenager again. Fingers winding to tug at your baggy clothes, cinched at your bent knees on either side of his thighs on the sunken couch, gathered at your rolling hips over his hardening cock. You were exhilarating. The sweet curl of your smile pulled against his lips, seeking for you when you pulled away, panting into his wanting mouth, eager hips pressing down to roll against the stiff outline of his cock, catching the seam of your cunt through your thin pants, “‘S that feel good, Andy?” Pope's chin titled up and down with eagerness, breathing deep through his nose when the gentle sweep of your lips pressed to his throat, the thrumming pulse under his skin tugged between your perfect teeth, “You want me to touch you?”
Pope's chest heaved, a soft plea leaving his lips watching you shift back onto his bent knees, nimble fingers working at the buckle of his jeans. His cock hit the taut muscle of his abdomen once you pulled the edge of his boxers down, tugged into your waiting palm, blushing red tip beading precum into your spread fingers, “Look at me,” you hummed, stroking down on the slippery girth of his cock. “Wanna see you while I make you feel good.”
Pope's heavy gaze fell on you, fingers clutching tightly to your shifting hips, subtly rolling over the ridged muscle of his thighs, thumb sweeping over the bulbous tip of his cock. A shuttered moan left his lips, hips rutting pathetically up into your palm, watching you lean forward, a string of spit falling from your lips and spread over the length of him. Your wrist turned, tugging up and down, experienced hand working him closer and closer to the edge, a slur of curses tumbling from Pope's parted lips, “Fuck—please—can I touch you? Wanna—fuck—wanna make you feel good too.”
“This does make me feel good,” you murmur, lips brushing his cheek, rocking against him when his hips stutter up into your palm, his achingly hard cock pushing up to fuck your hand, like he can’t help himself. His fingers unfurl from the fabric of your pants, tugging at the loose hem, sliding along the hip band of your panties.
“Let me? Please,” he breathed, fingers tentatively reaching to cup your pussy over the soft cotton panties you had slipped into, much softer than the jagged jewels of your work outfit. You sigh heavily when his fingers easily slip beneath the fabric, quickly following your permitting nod. You whine at the feeling of his callous fingers stroking against the slick of your cunt, circling your clit the pads of his thick fingers. The taut muscle of his arms flex with the menstruations of his fingers working against your cunt, tendons flexing as he presses two fingers into your eager hole, groaning as your tight walls hug around him, slick gushing into his palm and leaking down his knuckle with each curl of his fingers, “Yeah? You like that?” he murmurs, palm hitting up against your clit, watching how you keen forward, fingers squeezing around the base of his cock, “Tell me how it feels.” Your lips part to gasp, hips rolling against his palm, fucking yourself into his open hand, “No one else gets to see you like this. No one.”
“No one,” you pant, eyes caught in his hard gaze, “Just for you, Andy. Never want anyone else.”
“Yeah?” he gasps, words repeating lowly as his hips hunch up into your stroking palm, head falling forward as his abdomen tenses. His hips meekly fuck up into your steady palm as he cums, ropes of cum spilling over your fingers, his own fingers working you open with renowned vigor as his shuttering pants accentuate the overstimulation of your hand still stroking down his cock. You don’t stop until you cum into his palm, squealing as his fingers piston up into you, eager to overwork your pussy the same way you did his blushing red tip.
A/C: hey y'all I just thought of this idea so why not give it a try and reposting helps lol but here you guys go I know y'all are starving..
Warning:MDNI/smut/doggie style/mating press/69~
Characters: Jabber Tamsy Follo
JABBER- doggie style
Jabber would be the type to do doggie style...it's basically when you are on your hands and knees it's something about him fucking you hard and raw from behind I mean he is so fucking crazy fucking you from behind especially when pulling your hair doing so he loves reaching up to pull your hair all hard kissing you on your neck leaving them crazy ass bite marks that takes days for them to fade and you would let him out scars on you I mean scratches that would pain mixing in with the pleasure it feels so good to him how he would let you hit on him during sex just to get off and nut deep inside you...
TAMSY- mating press
Tamsy would be the type to do mating press where your knees are to your chest and fucks you knowing you can't move away from him either just you moaning and him deep up inside of your cervix you swear you could feel him inside of your fucking stomach you lol out moans for him your eyes rolling in the back of your damn skull I mean that's just how much he loved you to do so I mean he was thrusting inside you just as hard causing you to squeeze him tightly you just couldn't help it at all..
Follo- 69
I feel like Follo would do this type of position where you're both getting pleasure at the same time you sucking on his cock and him sucking and licking up on your pussy you sucking on his dick gagging up on it and fiddling with his balls as you did so and him licking on your nice creamy wet pussy that tasted absolutely delicious to him it would drive him crazy about it until you both cum together at the same time your mouth full of his cum and his mouth full of your juices you both swallowing and lapping them up and finishing...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~lilmisstea~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hey y'all thanks for reading and make sure you repost please just to get this to more people it helps a lot but it seems your milk shake just got filled by-lilmissteascafe...
cw: sub! mizuki, dom reader, masochism, emotional dependency, praise kink; jealousy, hair-pulling, crying kink, possessiveness, vulnerable behavior, power dynamics.
a/n: i was watching kamisama kiss and couldn't pass up the opportunity to write about the adorable mizuki <33
mizuki is the kind of sub who doesn’t just crave affection he craves intensity, the kind of sensation that lets him feel anchored to someone after a lifetime of loneliness; his masochism isn’t dark or cruel, but emotional, almost tender, because for him a little pain is another form of closeness, another proof that your attention is firmly on him, that you’re touching him with intention instead of pity.
whenever you correct him with real firmness when you pull his hair, grip his jaw, press your fingers into his hips, or leave faint marks along his skin he shivers, not just with arousal but with pure validation; his body reacts too quickly, too easily, trembling under your hands like something delicate that gets stronger the harder you hold it, and every controlled sting makes his breath stutter.
his masochistic streak is tied tightly to his jealousy and his hunger for affection; when he feels ignored or overshadowed by someone else, he becomes even more responsive to pain, almost eager for it, as if earning your attention through sensation; a bite, a slap, a harsh squeeze to his thigh each one draws out a soft, broken sound from him, his eyes shining as if begging you to keep looking only at him.
mizuki is noisy in the most innocent way: he gasps, whines, whimpers, and lets out choked little cries that he absolutely cannot hide; every sharp touch pulls a sound out of him, and each noise reveals exactly how much he feels, how exposed he is, how easily he unravels under the smallest controlled hurt; his voice goes high, breathy, trembling, almost childlike in its sincerity.
he responds better to physical guidance than verbal orders; if you take his wrists and place them where you want them, his whole body relaxes into the pose; if you push him gently to his knees, he melts instantly; hair-pulling makes his spine arch, a hand around his throat makes his eyes flutter shut, and firm hands on his hips make him obey without a single question his body listens even faster than his mind.
he is deeply emotional, a sub who can cry easily when sensation overwhelms him; the tears aren’t from pain, but from the shock of being wanted, the sweetness of your attention, the overwhelming pleasure of finally being seen; his face crumples, his lips tremble, he tries to hide behind his hands or your shoulder, but he never pulls away; he cries into your touch, not away from it.
his confidence depends heavily on continuous affection; harshness without tenderness wounds him fast, making him shut down, doubt himself, or shrink back; but when you mix pain with warmth when your bite is followed by a kiss, when your slap is followed by praise mizuki becomes beautifully obedient, the kind of soft, trembling devotion that molds perfectly to your hands.
he is naturally obedient even outside of anything sexual, which makes his submission feel instinctive; when you give an instruction, he bows his head slightly, blushes, lowers his gaze, and follows you with a kind of quiet eagerness, as if your guidance is the only thing keeping him grounded; a gentle “come here” can undo him completely.
his whole body is expressive; he touches you constantly, clinging to sleeves, kimonos, hands, or arms; his head rests on your lap or shoulder whenever you allow it; during submission he grows even more tactile, needing the reassurance of your skin, your warmth, your presence contact stabilizes him, keeps him from spiraling into insecurity.
ignoring him is far more painful than any slap or bite; if you turn away from him when he’s sensitive, he wilts quiet, sad, casting long, longing glances your way, staying close but not daring to interrupt; to win back your attention, he becomes dramatically obedient, kneeling at your feet, offering his throat, lowering his eyes, showing you through action how desperately he wants you to look at him again.
his innocence blends strangely with his desire for pain; mizuki asks for things he doesn’t fully understand with a voice too sweet to handle, tilting his head in confusion when something hurts and then gasping when the pleasure rushes in after; he discovers his masochism through you, realizing how much he likes pain only when your hands are the ones giving it, trusting you in a way he wouldn’t dare trust anyone else.
in the end, mizuki is a sub who feels too much, wants too deeply, and gives himself away too easily not because he’s weak, but because his heart was built for affection, for loyalty, for emotional surrender; his masochism amplifies that devotion, turning every sting and every whimper into proof of how fully he belongs to you, how thoroughly he wants to be held, guided, hurt just enough to feel alive under your hands.
